Columbia ©niDerjSftp THE LIBRARIES LIFE AND TIMES OF DANIEL O'CONNELL, WITH SKETCHES OF HIS CONTEMPORARIES. COMPILED FROM THE WORKS OF W. J. O'N. DAUNT, MR. FEGAN, R. L. SHEIL, VOLUME I. DUBLIN : JOHN MULLANY, 1 PARLIAMENT-STREET. 1867. V. CD 50 CHR^ ' IGICAL TABLE V JOMENTS. VOL. I. C3 1775 — Condition of the Irish Catholics before the birth of O'Con- nell .. Irish deputation to the government of France Anecdotes of turncoats : risks they ran O'Connell's birth : his family General Count O'Connell and the Irish Brigade in France Name and pedigree of O'Conuell 1776 — Relaxation of the Penal Code Paul Jones the pirate Terrific naval engagement : English defeat O'Connell's mother . . A band of robbers Anecdotes of O'Connell's confessor, Father Gradv Childhood of O'ConneU His love of ballads and early intelligence University education in France . . 1791 — O'Conne.l enters St. Omer's : incident on the journey French Revolution : O'Connell's opinion of its necessity Equahty estabhshed in France 1792 — O'Connell in Douay College: CathoUcs admitted to the Irish bar John Keogh : the Shearses. Sec. . . . , 35 1794 — O'Connell's residence in London: prosecution of English radicals 1795 — Attempt on O'Connell's life: narrow escape of George III. ^ O'Connell's letter to his uncle Battle of the Diamond : origin of the Orange banditti oath . . ^ 1797 — O'Connell in DubUn : Lord Edward Fitzgerald , 179S— O'Connell called to the bar •^ Retiu-n to Kerry : dangerous iUness Irish hospitaUty : " Cousin Kane" ^2^^ O'Connell's first circuit : a long journey r^799 — The Union and the Veto discussed t Plunket's opinion of the Union: means by **» carried »>^ Origin of Lord Enniskillen : his corruption . . O'Connell's first speech on politics : Major Sin- Lord Clare : his pedigree : letter to Castlereagh O'Connell challenged by a duelhst 1800 — Prices paid by government for rotten boroughs Lord Charlemont's bigotry ; " the goat" Treachery of Ulstermen Humble origin of Lord Castlereagh 1801 — O'Connell a Freemason : conflagration in a timber-vard their which it was 51 page 2 4 5 8 to 12 to 17 18 19 21 22 22 24 25 27 29 31 32 33 34 &36 37 38 39 40 41 42 & 43 6c 45 &47 & 49 & 52 53 64 57 58 59 60 61 62 63 1 78207 IT CHBOJrOLOGICAL tartv qf CO?rri3TS. Lad Kcriivy mi Ja%e Dah- : fiditing judges . . 67 O'CoHMflsMllheldg^waTmin .". ^ ^.. 69 ffiiMiii otfeMMg^ecgcgfe .. 71 Awr fat g rfLefrpr: ChaAiey t^ ittooiey .. 73 & 74 OTnf ir«bMMgl0w«dittejfdges; B«n» MHaeDmd 7€ .. .- 71 -.77 ef Ona, WIhb Cn^er, Judge Dar, JodeeBoyd .. 78 & 79 his opinHHis on courtship : anecdote afhiswi£e ' .. 81 Quiet's lebdfian: O'Comidl's esdxnate of Emmet's da- .. 83 Ot>MDMA leaacd fran them 85 Bxmebts 86 ^ftkeHabenCaipBs Act: fiist funt efforts ci (yCammUnA lad TnaA 88 «flrd»d(wte) 89 Hhkj ad Ae bnker ..90 Lorii Ibigil* fteadi, and 91 ScdIIt, Ffrextch, Dmngoole, and 92&93 itiooinf opposed by the aiisto- c«ey .. .. ".. .'. 93 flu 94 sjMdoftkeCMlMfieprdates 96 lodelsthelR^q[>s 97 hjOaasKSien m Dublin and Rewrr .. .. ' 98 \m^a\d*^Jatk-]esley Pole Sketch of OCoIne'l by Lafiy Morgan An Orangeman's opiuioa of C'Coaad A prime minister m^xdered Deplorable condition of George IIL O'Connell's opinion of George IV. Moore's lyric on the prince regent Violated promises Lord Moira's iBsineenty O'Connell cm. tbe cfaaracter cf Lord Castlerea^h y^Mleon's power descnbed br CCoaBeil Battle of Moikowa .. How the Pope's iTnprlsonDcnt affected the Irish Catholics, "Witchery resolutions : hubbub created by them A drunken lord lieutenant DupUcity of Lord Fingal Sir Arihxir Wellesley on the English Catholics O'ConneU's encoostcr with Wotte Rise of the Catholk Board O'Connell rebukes Lord fSagal . . O'Connell's opinion of Foot Character of Patrick Dnifeiian . . ., Lord Liverpool's ministry — •* Liberty Han" . . Byron's opinion of Casilereagh .. Torture in Limerick . . Catholic petition Sir Arthur Weileslev on the Irish ^ess Watty Cox O'Gorman's speech on Catholic *' securities" O'Connell's popularity : his love of fame Broman the robber . . Anecdotes of Counsellors MacNally, CoDis, O'Gorman, and OGrady .. ..* .. 182 & French opinion of O'Conndl Cobbetr's inteT.ectual rhy^^^n . . Bichard Brinsley Shendaa Koyal friendships Parliamentary reporters : their «'Tpnl^jon fm^ tlie Hone of Commons The Besdiers of Lincoln's Inn Lab<»oiis life led by O'Conndl . . Anecdotes illustrative of 0'C<»]idFs legal ability Character of Jack GtSard : the coDegoss Gojeral dection : character of Curran 183 185 187 188 189 190 193 195 197 199 201 VI CHRONOLOGICAL TABLE OF CONTENTS. 1812— Lady Hertford and her child Abject character of Irish Catholics in 1812 . . O'Connell's description of Jack Lawless Discord and distraction of the Catholics O'Connell's efforts to restore harmony O'Connell's table-talk . . ' Corruption in the English army Anti-Catholic petitions : O'Connell's exposure of them 1813 — A friar's explanation's of the Veto Edmund Burke on the same subject Aggregate meeting in f ishamble-street Description of Scully Dr. Dromgoole Grattan's bill : Canning's clauses Lord Trimleston's duplicity Character of William Bellew O'Connell's answer to Bellew Bellew's secret pension Orangemen of Ulster menaced with ruin by the Catholics Origin of Lord Kenyon Ulster Orangemen described by O'Connell Proposed apphcation to the Spanish Cortes . . Admirable pro ect for liberating Catholics The Catholic Board described by its enemies English fears of Irish eloquence . . Canning's commissioners : out-door reUef Object of Bellew's patriotism — twelve hundred a year O'Connell and the CathoUc bishops Canning's eulogy of EngUsh Catholics Noble language of Dr. Milner Vote of thanks to Dr. ^lilner opposed by the Catholic ar tocracy Rapturous reception of Dr. Milner's name by the people Irish loyalty to the prince regent Wliat the British government really is The prince's promise to the Irish Catholics Mendacity of Lords Fingal and CUfden Geographical morality Napoleon's projects for the invasion of Ireland What the Catholics should have done AUeged forgery by the Irish Catholics Charles Butler denounces the Irish prelacy Disrespectful treatment of Irish CathoUc representatives Confidence of the Irish prelacy in O'Connell . . Errors in faith worse than moral errors O'Connell's interview with an infidel Martin Luther: Catholic hymns . . O'Connell on religious controversy Ancient stone Cross destroyed by Orangemen in Armagh Horrible cruelty of the Ulster linen-weavers . . O'Connell's account of Orange machinations . . Secesssion of the Catholic aristocracy and gross ignorance Catholic peers Real criminals : King William dressed of CHRONOLOGICAL TABLE OF CONTENTS. Til page 1813 — ^Descriptiou of an officer of the Irish Brigade . . , . 269 Brooke, the author of " Gusta%-iis Vasa" . . . . 272 Charles O'Connor of BaUinagare . . . . . . 272 The local Cathohc Board of Cork .. ..273 An American privateer in Dubhn Bay : a naval battle . . 274 Irish seamen in the Enghsh na\'y : their number . , 275 O'Connell's adventures while going circuit : the inns he fre- quented .. .. .. .. 276 Grose the antiquarian, and the butcher . . . . 278 O'Connell's encounter with Counsellor Magrath: a duel prevented .. .. .. ..279 O'Connell at the assizes : immense amount of business . . 280 O'Connell and the girl who sold eggs . . . . 281 The Kerry boy and the newsvender . . . . 282 The trial of John Magee : Denis Scully . . . . 283 Sauiin's speech at IMagee's trial . . . . . . 285 O'Connell's reply . . . . . . . . 289 Cruelty perpetrated by Sir Walter Raleigh . . . . 290 Antiquity of jur)--packing .. .. .. 291 The vices of the rich and great . . , . . . 293 Lord Camden's administration : ninety-seven men hanged togqdier .. .. ' .. ..294 0'Ccfi*iell attacks Saurin . . . . . . 296 Sketclf of Saurin : his personal appearance . . . . 297 Extr^ from Magee's lil)el on the Duke of Richmond . . 299 ColQUel Wingfield and Lord Monck described . . 299 Pedigree of the Duke of Richmond . . . . 300 " Who's this, what's this ?" a poetical squib . . . . 301 Terror of the Orangemen : ribaldy of their newspapers . . 302 Review of Irish history by O'Connell . . . . 303 The nature of O'Connell's defence of ^lagee . . . . 305 O'Connell's account of James 11. : Protestant parsons re- moved by that monarch . . . . . . 307 Protestant rehgion is not its temporalities . . . . 308 Sketch of Charles Kendal Bushe : his appearance and cha- racter . . , . . . . . . . 309 Bushe's rejoinder to O'Connell's speech .. ..311 Characteristic account of the Irish nobihty . . . . 313 O'Connell at home: his conversational powers .. 314 Anecdotes related by O'Connell : Lord Clare, Crosbie Mor- ^gan, Jerry Keller, and Counsellor Norcott . . . . 316 O'Connell's professional recollections . . . . 321 Advantage of having a red nose . . . . . . 322 A prisoner's escape from jail . . . . . . 322 Sir Jonah Barrrington and the pawnbroker . . . . 323 Instances of honesty . . . . . . . . 323 Ignorance of the fine arts . . . . . , 324 Sketch of the Irish gentry of former times : their character 325 A parson prosecuted for breach of promise . . . . 327 Anecdotes of Father Taaffe, Tim DriscoU, &c. . . 329 State of Ireland in 1798 .. .. .. 330 O'Connell's reminiscences of bar practice . . •. . 332 O'Connell's opinions on religious persecution . . . , 333 O'Connell in his study and in the courts . . . . 335 Vm CHRONOLOGICAL TABLE OF CONTENTS. page 1813 — Vote of confidence in the Catholic bishops opposed by Dr. Dromgoole .. .. .. ..339 Dr. Dromgoole on Henry VIII. : how Protestantism was in- troduced . . . . . . . . 340 Sketch of Dr. Dromgoole's person] and character . . 341 Dromgoole's speech against the Veto . . . . 342 Character of the English nation .. .. .. 344 Sketch of Lord French . . . . . . 345 Proceedings of the English Catholics .. .. 346 Dr. Milner challenged to box . . . . . . 348 Bible societies estabUshed by English Catholics . . 349 Dr. Milner's admiration of O'Connell . . . . 351 Description of the vampire-bat . . . . . . 351 Aristocratic opposition to petitioning . . . . 352 Eulogy of Counsellor Phillips : petition adopted . . 353 Protestant abuse of the CathoUc Board . . . . 355 The main object in war . . . . . . 356 Wliy the CathoUc Board was not suppressed . . 357 Origin of the word " Emancipation" . . . . 357 Speech of Counsellor Finlay . . . . . . 358 Phillips's speech on O'Connell's character . . . . 359 Agitation in 1813 .. .. .. ..360 " Kilkenny Resolutions" .. .. .. 360 Lord Whitworth appointed viceroy ,. .. 361 Who were the " undertakers ?" . . . . . . 362 Scully's description of Irish \-iceroys .. . . 363 Sketch of Whitworth's history . . . . . . 364 Crimes of ambassadors . . . . . . 365 Disruption of the Catholic party in Cork . . . . 366 O'Connell's efforts to restore harmony . . . . 367 Vote of thanks to O'Connell and Dr. Milner .. .. 368 Opposition to the votes : strange scene . . . . 369 Speech of O'Connell . . .. .. ..370 Remy Sheehan's first anpearance in politics .. .. 375 Speehes of James N. Mahon and Dr. England . . 377 O'Connell chaired through Cork . . . . . . 378 A diplomatical lord lieutenant . . . . . . 379 Sketch of Dr. England .. .. , ..380 Property not the standard of opinion . . . . 383 " The martyr of the press" . . . . . . 384 Policy of England described . . . . . . 385 Letter from Dr. Milner . . . . . . 387 Disgraceful conduct of Enghsh Catholics .. .. 390 Dromgoole's denunciation ©f the Veto .. ..391 Shiel's reply to Dromgoole . . . . . . 392 Grattan's conduct impugned . . . . . . 393 Shiel's defence of Grattan . . . . . . 894 Sketch of Richard Lalor Shiel . . . . . . 395 Dr. Dromgoole's denunciation of the Protestant Establish- ment . . . . . . . . . . 396 Tremendous uproar among Cathohcs and Protestants . . 397 Parallel between the Cathohcs of Ireland and the negroes oi the West Indies .. .. .. .. 398 Strange farrago of conflicting sects .. «, 399 CHRONOLOGICAL TABLE OF CONTENTS. IX page 1813 — Shiel's speech in reply to Dromgoole .. v. 400 O'Connell's answer to Shiel . . . . . . 401 Number of Irish soldiers in the English army . . 412 Death of a kinsman of O'Connell in Spain . . . . 413 Napoleon's efforts to destroy England .. .. 413 Seige of Badajos : valour of the Spaniards .. .. 414 Ignorance of war displayed by Enghsh officers .. 415 Lord Whitworth bribes the press of DubUn . . . . 417 Thomas Moore's indirect attack on O'Connell . . 418 Pernicious influence of the British aristocracy on Moore's mind and opinions .. .. ..419 His attack on the bishops . . . . . . 419 Tortru-es inflicted on the Catholics in 1798 .. .. 420 Quartering and emboweUing abolished by law . . 421 Activity of English Bible societies in 1813 .. .. 421 Melancholy consequences of Bible reading : Johanna South- cote .. .. .. .. .. 422 Kildare-street Society .. .. .. 423 O'Connell's encounter with Baron Lefroy . . . . 424 Uproar created by O'Connell's appearance at a Bible meet- ing .. .. .. .. ..425 Sketch of Lefroy's personal appearance . . . . 426 Polygamy established by the primitive Protestants . . 428 Sketch of Miss Saurin . . . . . . 429 Magee prosecuted for publishing a speech of O'Connell's 430 O'Connell threatens the attorney-general with personal chastisement . . . , . . . . 434 Strange scene : astonishment of the court . . . . 435 O'Connell's defence of Magee . . . . . . 436 Sketch of Counsellor Wallace : his history . . . . 445 Speech of Wallace . . . . ... . . 446 O'Connell " shelved" by Magee . . . . . . 448 Interesting argument of Counsellor Wallace . . . . 449 O'Connell's feelings on finding himself repudiated by his chent .. .. .. .. " .. 451 Bushe's reply to Wallace . . . . . . 453 O'Connell's contempt for the judges .. .. 461 Severe sentence on Magee . . . . . . 462 Lord Norbury in court . . . . . . 466 Lord Norbury's hair-bottom chair .. .. 469 Saurin's letter discovered .. .. ..470 O'Connell procures Norbun-'s expulsion from the bench . . 473 Prosecution of Hugh Fitzpatrick for libel .. .. 474 Cross-examination of Bernard Higgins by O'Connell .. 478 Speech of Burrowes in defence .. .. .. 479 Hugh Fitzpatrick committed .. .. ,. 487 Speech of O'Connell : case of Barry .. .. 488 Conclusion of the trial . . . . . . 493 Irish agitation not sufficiently republican . . . . 494 Lord Digby's tenantry and estates .. . . 495 Character of the Irish aristocracy . .. 496 Earl of Bandon's Protestant colony .. .. 498 Sale of a pew by a swindhng peer . , . . 500 De Beaumont's opinion of O'Connell .« .. 501 CHRONOLOGICAL TABLE OF CONTEXTS. ISlo — Government s^windied bv an Irish Lord Singular honesty of Shapland Carew Lord Castlereagh kicked out Evidence of Counsellor Campbell Hugh Fitzpatrick in jail Character of Fitzpatrick Origin of Lord Donoughmore, " Lying Jacl:"' Mrs. Hutchinson a major of horse The Cathohc board etilogise O'Connell Sketch of the Cathohc bar Description of N. P. O'Gorman . . His review of 'Conn ell's services O'Connell presented vrith ^1,000 worth of plate Sketch of Counsellor Finlay His eloquent eulogy of O'Connell Castle Browne bought by the Jesuits O'Connell's opinion of the Jesuits The Duke of Leinster's account of Clongowes College Irish and English boys at Stoneyhurst Peel's interview with Father Kenny O'Connell's examination relative to the Jesuits Korman antipathy to education . . A silver cup presented to O'Connell 1314 — O'Connell routs and disperses the Cathohc aristocracy Lord Donoughmore's letter to the Cathohcs . . Letter from Henry Grattan O'Connell's reply to Lord Donoughmore Ene as MacDonnell's sketch of the penal laws Cafholics animated by Protestant example: Lidwill's spee Cathohcs receive worse treatment than neg^-oes Fatal effects of persecution Alleged superiority of Protestants T\"hy the aristocracy hated O'Connell Parallel betw^een O'Connell and Napoleon The Irish magistracy : their character A mig.strate charges liis brother magistrate with treason Conspiracy against the Irish people Degradation of the Cathohcs Prctestant papers attack O'Conn ell 'Council severely censured by a Scotch Trriter LIFE, TIMES, SOME OF THE CO^'TEMPOEAEIES OP DANIEL O'COXNELL " Let Us renie^iber — that we may hope.'* — SAiel. In every period of recorded time — on every point of geogra- phic space, the human race, though differing on every other question, have been unanimous on one subject. Successful pa- triots who broke the shackles of oppression and rescued their compatriots from the degradation of thraldom, have been unanimously placed in the foremost ranks of illustrious cha- racters. So \ridely is this feeling diffused that a reverence for patriotism seems to be an inalienable attribute of the entire human family. La every clime and in every century th.e halls of military commemoration and the joyous festivals ex peace, the solemn processions of triumph and the standards of national war — nay, the very temples of the Divinity have blazed with the imperishable names of successful patriots. They are ever respected and frequently commemorated. For them the chisel of the sculptor and the pencil of the painter have been pas- sionately employed in their noblest creations. The lyre of the poet resounds and the eloquent page of the historian glows with an enthusiastic sentiment of loving reverence for successful patriotism. The eager solicitude of national grati- tude festoons the furrowed brows of their venerated statues, with the fi-eshest garlands of dewy spring and the brightest roses of laughing summer, and anniversary music swells the com m emorative pomp of their historic triumphs with the har- monious thunder of national anthems ; while the snowy hand of youthful beauty enwreaths their venerated monographs with the warlike laurel and the festive myrtle. Why is this ? "^"hat is the origin of this general homage ? "Why does Swit- zerland revere its Tell, and Ireland its Brian Bora ? "Why is Alfred honoured in England, Bruce in Scotlimd, and Washing- ton in America ? "VMij for them is earth vocai and fuU hearts 1 55 LIFE AND TIMES OF O CONNELL. teeming with loving sympathy and admiration ? What is tha reason of all this ? One incontrovertible circumstance originates this anthemnal chorus, a universal and deep-rooted conviction which cannot be eradicated — that the loss of freedom is the du-est calamity that can overv/helm an unfortunate people — that want, dis- grace, and misery are the inseparable concomitants of subju- gation, and that the iron chain of slavery is incompatible with the golden current of prosperity, industry, and even of life. There is nothing in the experience of man — in the records of history, so painful as the humiliation — the tortui'e of feeling which originates in the subjection of one people to another. The subject race can never be persuaded that they are governed by the sovereign ; they are made to feel in every member that they are ruled by a faction — slaves to a more favoured class, to whose advantage all then- interests are sacrificed. Hence the ad- miration which O'CoNNELL excited in his countrymen — hence the loud jubilation of his triumphs — hence the long pomp of his exulting and multitudinous processions — hence the huzzas which preceded and the shouts of raptm-e which followed his car — hence the enthusiastic homage w^hich he received and the popular power with which he was invested — and hence the world-wide renown which crowned him like a diadem, and made him the observation and the gaze of Europe, America, and the world. All this originated in the matchless oppression of his unfor- tunate people — in the conviction which they felt that their best interests were sacrificed to the gi-atification of an envious but favom'ed people, and in the grinding operation of the emaciating laws which ruthlessly tore asunder the holy ties of natm'e, the sacred charities of kindi-ed, and the consecrated bonds of civil society, and outraged our common humanity in the person of every native Irishman. Yes ; by the elaboration of that penal chain — the links of which have been rent to pieces by the giant hands of O'Connell — ^youth and inexperience were entrapped by cunning, when they could not be compelled by violence. It was deplorable, but unquestionable, that selfish- ness, fickleness, and libertinism — the basest principles of human nature — were conjured up like demons to arm the son against the father, dissolve the concord of brothers, and melt away the tender and sacred attachments of husband and wife — to reward the ungrateful and encom'age the profligate. The Catholic who held property was forced to look round him with circumspec- tion, to watch with caution, and arm himself at every point — LIFE AND TIIVIES OF o'CONNELL. 3 not against the open violence of the Protestant, but against the legaHsed treachery of his wife, his children, or his kindred. It was a deplorable state of things. Should the affections of his family render the Catholic secure at home, the impulsive hospi- tality of his generous nature left him open to the mly malice of the crawling informer, who entered and smiled on him but to betray him, and shared the viands on his board but to rob him of the shelter of a roof — a "bill of discovery" might descend on him like an avalanche, and leave him perfectly naked — strip him in a moment of everything he possessed. Not content to shut in his face the door of every public office, oppression as mean as it was cruel crawled into the bosom of his family to poison his peace, and deprive him of the consolations and com- forts of domestic life. The distracted Catholic often saw his children torn from his loving arms, to be educated at his cayeuse in a religion which he abhorred. Should the Catholic, with a view to religious instruction, shelter a priest or friar in his house, he was harassed with pecuniary penalties for the first offence, and subjected for the third to the confiscation of all his goods, chattels, and freehold property. In Ireland Cathohc schools were prohibited ; and if educated abroad, the Catholic, when he came home, was liable to serious disabilities. If the dissolute son of a wealthy Catholic professed himself a Protestant, the profligate and unnatural boy was immediately embraced, rewarded, and enriched, by a demoralizing govern- ment, with a third of his parents' w^ealth — and this though the wretched lad were only in his fourteenth year. Not content with these odious measures of irrational tyranny, the legislature went still farther. They prepared two bills which may perhaps be paralleled in Protestant Sweden, but whose atrocity could hardly be matched in any other part of the world. These bills proposed that every priest in Ireland should be emasculated ; and if found subsequently in the king- dom, he should be put to death. Father Hannegen, writing in Morreri's Dictionary, tells a curious anecdote relative to these bills. He says that the Duke of Orleans was at that time Regent of France, and that an Irish deputy, with the view of averting from the Irish Church this cruel visitation of bar- barous intolerance, waited on his Highness, and besought his protection and good offices with the British court in behalf of the Irish Catholics, then suffering the most horrible persecu^ tion. The Duke cf Orleans received the deputy with exqui- site politeness ; his Highness was winning, cordial, and frank, but at the same time he hinted, with a smile, that he feared 4 LIFE AND TIMES OF O CORNELL. he should interpose in behalf of persecuted Catholics "with a very bad grace — veiy awkwardly indeed — if Protestant sub- jects were suffering persecution at the hands of Catholic go- vernments. He thought that Protestants living in Catholic countries had quite as good a right to toleration as Catholic subjects under a Protestant crown. The Irish deputy, a man of brilliant talents, requested his Highness's permission to make a slight distinction, which he hoped would show plainly the disparity wiiich separated the two cases. "I shall feel great pleasure," replied his Highness, "if jou will be good enough to instruct me on a matter which is at present, I con- fess, perfectly unintelligible to my poor understanding." The Irish deputy then pointed out with great felicity of illustra- tion, the wide difference which, in all ages of the world, the legislation of all nations had recognized between those quiet people who, in their oicn country, peaceably follow the tranquil tenor and ancient faith of their fathers, and those restless fanatics who perversely invent a new and fantastical religion of their own. Not content with invention, the in- novators in some instances advanced to coercion, and la- boured to force with violence on the acceptance of others their theological crotchets. The propagation of a new creed might be compared to the construction of a new road, which cannot be run through private property without the approval of owners and the sanction of the authorities. The preser- vation of order was the object for which government was in- stituted, and this order, the alarming and portentous forms which fanaticism assumed (as in the case of the Anabaptists of Germany) often jeopardised and sometimes overturned. There could be no paralleUsm, he ventm-ed to assert, between the case of Catholics who, in their own country, quietly pur- sued the hallowed road of their tranquil and majestic Church, and those frenzied or pragmatical sectaries who broke into the vineyard and trampled down its graceful arrangements, and were only too ready to climb to the bad eminence of notoriety on a mountainous pile of the ruins of society. '' Under the iniquitous laws enacted against Catholics," said O'Connell himself, speaking to his secretary, O'Neil Daunt, '•'it was not suiScient that a man born of Catholic parents should merely profess Protestantism ; it was also necessary that the convert should go through the legal forms of abjuring 'Popery,' and receiving the sacrament in some Protestant church. I heard of a very curioui case, in which the son of Catholic parents, early in the last century, entered Dublin LIFE AND TI5IES OF O CORNELL. 5 College professing to be a Protestant. His talents in due time procured for him a fellowship, from which he retired upon a rich college living. He amassed gi'eat wealth, bought an estate, and leh it at his death to his son ; when behold, a bill of discovery was j&led against the son, as inheriting from a man ivho in the eye of the law had been a Papist, inasmuch a3 he had never made a formal, public, legal abjuration of Popery. So that the Anglican parson, the F.T.C.D., the rector of a college living, who had been in Anglican orders for thirty or forty years of his life — this man, notwithstanding all his Protestantism, was legally a Papist, because he had omitted the performance of some legal formula. " It often happened, too, that points of objection to the legal Protestantism of apostates were raised by reason of in- accuracy in the certificate of the apostate's abjuration. These certificates often bore that the conforming party had received the sacrament diiriiir/ divine ser^dce ; whereas the sacrament in the Anglican Chm'ch is administered, not during the service, but after it. There were frequently needy but dishonest per- sons to watch for and pounce upon flaws of this sort.-^ ^ ''The temptation to apostatise," continued O'Connell, ''was strong, and alas ! was too frequently yielded to. There was a Mr. Myers, of the County Roscommon, who was thi'eatened that a IBill of Discovery should be filed against him. He in- stantly galloped ofl' to Dublin in a terrible fright, and sought out the Protestant archbishop. The ai'chbishop examined him upon the points of difference between the two chm'ches, and found that he knew nothing at all about the matter. He accordingly said he could not receive him into the Anglican Chm'ch unless he should get some previous instruction ; and politely oflered to commit him to the care of the Ptector of Castlerea, who chanced to be in Dubhn at the time. This proposal delighted Mr. Myers, for the rector had long been a hunting and diinldng companion of his own in the country. ^Yith the rector the pious convert arranged to dine every day until the ensuing Sunday — upon which day it was absolutely necessary the recantation should be publicly made. Myers and the rector had a jovial booze — six bottles each at the least — and their jollification was repeated each day until Sun- day ; when the archbishop, on receiving an assurance from the jovial rector that Myers was aufait at the theology of the case, permitted him to make his solemn public abjm-ation of the errors of Popery and to receive the Protestant sacrament. la * " Personal Recollections of O'Connell." 6 LIFE AND TIMES OF O CONNELL. order to celebrate the tappy event the prelate invited Myers and several zealous Protestant fiiends to dinner. When the cloth was removed his gi-ace thus addi'essed the convert : ' Mr. Myers, you have this day been received into the true Protes- tant Church. For this you should thank God. I learn -with pleasure from the Rector of Castlerea that you have acquired an excellent knowledge of the basis of the Protestant religion. Will yon be so kind as to state, for the edification of the com- pany, the grounds upon which you have cast aside Popery and embraced the Chui'ch of England.' ' Faith, my lord,' re- plied Myers, * I can easily do that ; the grounds of my con- version to the Protestant religion are two thousand five hun- di'ed of the best grounds in the county Ptoscommon.' "* It seems strange to find nations which act with consum- mate prudence in their own aftairs, thus apparently bereft of common sense and common humanity when managing the affairs of their neighbours. From this mismanagement it may be inferred that no nation has been endowed by Pro- vidence with sufiicient judgment and capacity to rule another nation so as to benefit the sulject race. Every page of the British statute book relating to Iiish afiairs seems to estabhsh this conclusion. The passion for power is accompanied by a a passion to make it felt ; and while they mantled their own country with prosperity and opulence, British legislators spread misery, ruin, and famine over the subjugated island. It was in Ii'eland then, as in Poland in more recent times. There was a blight on everything — no genius could flourish — no en- terprise succeed, and the sons of Ireland were invariably unhappy and unprosperous until they learned to be faithless. Depression and apathy, like a funeral pall, shi'ouded the land, and the dead sluggishness of the fallen people resembled the mute immobiUty of a corpse. Every public eflbrt seemed to fall under the withering influence of an evil demon which ma- lignantly delighted to thwart and baffle the struggles of pa- triotism and disappoint and frustrate industrial exertion. After but a few fitful thi'oes or spasmodic gesticulations, which the presence of some patriotic leader momentarily produced, the body which rose painfully for a second, fell helplessly back into the heavy somnolence of dreamless torpidity. Enter- prise was paralyzed or crippled by an unaccountable incapa- city which seemed miraculously at variance with the native character of the subjugated race. The national mind had become tame, cringing, and cowardly, and the moral character * " Personal Recollections of O'ConneU." LIFE AND TIMES OF CONNELL. 7 of the community seemed base, servile, and emasculate. Youth was stripped of its daring buoyancy and old ago of its reverend wisdom. Every heart seemed melancholy with despair, and every cheek saddened with the settled gloom of dissatisfaction. Instead of the boisterous song of triumph, a tremulous wail reached the ear in querulous and half-audible murmurs. To no purpose had nature lavished in boundless profusion her richest treasm'es on the downcast community — given loveliness and purity to the women — valom- and eloquence to the men. Drooping in the unwholesome air of subjugation, these flowers produced but shrivelled and scanty fruits. The very fields — as in 1740 — owing to what is the worst result of subiugation, the absence of security, often lost their fertility and bitterly thwarted the hopes of the disappointed agriculturist with half a harvest; and the elements, by some inscrutable dispensation of Providence, ravishing fecundity from the fields and susti- nence from man, seemed to have entered into a tacit league with the stranger, to overwhelm with destruction or sweep from creation the remnant race of the ancient Gaels, trembling, silent, and prostrate under the oppressive storm of unparalleled tyranny. In every district in Ireland the disastrous and inevitable results of penal legislation were conspicuously visible when O'Connell was born. It was the misfortune of Ireland to be subjected — not to a monarch — not to a republic, but to a form of government more heartless, grinding, cruel, and rapacious than any in existence — namely, a hereditary aristocracy. A greedy band of voracious freebooters, nicknamed Undertakers, the aristocratic heirs of the ten'ible confiscations, undertook the management of Ireland, and were the volunteer stewards of this miserable di'aw-farm, in which they built ergastidce, and constructed gibbets and hoarded plunder, insulting the crown by their arrogance, and trampling on the people in their cruelty, but doing nothing whatever to improve or benefit the nation at large. Indeed they were only allowed to govern the country because they had the strongest motives for keeping it down. These worthless men had reduced L'eland to a degradation which might be equalled, but could not be surpassed by the degradation of the Greeks wi-ithing and bleeding under the heel of the ferocious Mahometans. Never in the vrhole history of the world was the aspect of a nation more hopeless and gloomy, more helpless and disheartening than that of Ireland on the eve of the event which was destined to shed the first gleam of sunshine over the sepulchre of this Lazarus of the 8 LIFE AXD TIMES OF o'CO^':^ELL. nations. Never was apathy more intense — never was despair more sickening and profound. The heart of the nation seemed literally broken. But we should never despaii' of the fortunes of a country to which the prophecies of our saints have pre- dicted a glorious futui-e. We should cherish the consolation of that Hebrew proverb which has often chequered with the radiance of hope the gloomiest fortunes of an outcast people : " When the tale of bricks was doubled — Moses came." Daniel O'Connell was born on the Gth August, 1775. In a letter dated 17th July, 1828, he himself tells us, addressing the editor of the Dublin Evening Post, "It is right to be accu- rate even in trifles." He then goes on to say that a para- gi'aj)h had appeared in the journals which he was desirous of contradicting. "It contained two mistakes — it asserted that I was born in 1774, and secondly, that I was intended for the Chm'ch. I was not intended for the Church. No man respects, loves, or submits to the Church with more alacrity than I. But I was not intended for the priesthood. It is not usual with the Catholic gentry in Ireland to determine the religious destiny of theii* children ; and being an eldest son, born to an independence, the story of my having been intended for the Chui'ch is a pure fabrication. I was not born in the year 1774. Be it known to all whom it may concern that I was bom on the 6th of August, 1775, the very year in which the stupid obstinacy of British oppression forced the reluctant people of America to seek for secmity in arms, and to com- mence that bloody struggle for national independence which has been in its results beneficial to England, whilst it has shed glory and conferred liberty, pure and sublime, on America." The subject of our biography was the son of Morgan O'Con- nell, a gentleman who resided within a short distance of a town which has been rendered famous by its proximity to the bu'thplace of an illustrious man — Cahii'siveen.- The Ii*ish are * It was of this town of Cahirsiveen that the " Times' Commissioner" said in after days : "Tlaere is not a pane of glass in the whole town," to which O'Connell replied with the racy humour wliich cliaracterised him : " If the commissioner had as many pains in his belly, his tongue would be more veracious and his wanderings less eiTatic." In a satirical poem written by Aongus Daly on the famous astrologer, Dr. Whaley, so well described 'in the " History of Dublin" by Mr. Gilbert, a line occurs which seems to illustrate the name of Cahirsiveen, " 'S AT) cAiicAc Sfcbinn coir rlfo^ ■beAUA." Tills line may be translated, " The sybil Si%-in near the road of Beara-' The town of Calm-siveen may have taken its name from this druidess or sybil; if so, Cahirsiveen may be translated "the seat of Sivin." LIFE AND Ti:\IE3 OF O CONNELL. \) a prolific race, and have ere no^ alarmed tlieir "pale" oppres- sors by the stealthy and noiseless increase of their augmenting numbers — swarming in frightful and growing multiplicity like the tide waves surging and weltering round the tyrant's foot- steps. This attribute of our race was exemplified in the O'Connell family. The uncles and aunts of Daniel O'Connell were twenty-one in number. His grandfather had twenty-two childi'en, his father ten. O'Connell's own words on the sub- ject of his family, as given by O'Neill Daunt in his ** Personal Recollections," are, "My gi-andmother had twenty-two children, and half of them lived beyond the age of ninety Old Maurice O'Connell of Darrynane pitched upon an oak tree to make his own coffin, and mentioned his purpose to a carpen- ter. In the evening, the butler entered after dinner to say that the carpenter wanted to speak to him. *For what?' asked my uncle. 'To talk about your honom*'s coffin,' said the carpenter putting his head inside the door over the butler's shoulder. I wanted to get the fellow out, but my uncle said : * Oh ! let him in, by all means. Well, friend, what do you want to say to me about my coffin ?' * Only, sir, that I'll saw the oak tree your honour was speaking of into seven-foot plank.' * That would be wasteful,' said my uncle. * I never was more than six feet and an inch in my vamps, the best day I ever saw.' ' But yom* honour will stretch after death,' said the carpenter. ' Not eleven inches, I am sure, you blockhead! But I'll stretch, no doubt, perhaps a couple of inches or so. Well, make my coffin six feet six, and I'll warrant that will give me room enough.' " Of the uncles of O'Connell, the most remarkable was Gene- ral Count O'Connell, who served in the Irish Brigade. It is alleged that another illustrious Irishman, Chevalier Fagan, extended the hand of patronage to General Count O'Connell, when in early youth — a raw boy, fom'teen years of age — he entered the French army. It seems at least certain that in after life a warm friendship subsisted between the two military exiles. This is the more likely as it was not only by their prowess in the field, but by their fiiendliness to one another, that the exiled Irish — who went eastward (into Europe) with the firelock, as they now go westward (to America) T\dth the spade — attained rank, honour, and promotion in the conti- nental armies. By emigrating to France O'Connell's uncle procured what was denied him in Ireland, an ample field for the exercise of his abilities. To him, as to thousands of Lishmen, France 10 LIFE AND TIMES OF O'CONNELL. threw open the career for militai'y talent. He was one of those Irish '* adventm^ers of honour" who, as Willis says, *' are to be found in every country of Europe, "=:= and of whom we may confidently assert, with Dr. O'Connor, " They were to be seen, whether in ecclesiastical, military, or mercantile capaci- ties, triumphing over indigence and rivalling the most illustri- ous geniuses of France, Spain, Italy, and Germany — and this without riches to command notice or foreign patronage to create esteem." By those distinguished exiles every evidence of their Irish origin was preserved with pride and exhibited with ostentation ;f and their relatives at home, from the re- nown they acquired abroad, were induced in many instances to resume the O's and Macs which prefixed their patron j^mics, and blazon once more their descent from the kings and heroes of Irish history. In 1759, General Count O'Connell entered the French ser- vice as a sub-lieutenant in Clare's regiment, a service in which he rose speedily to the rank of major-general. He served in that terrible siege of Gibraltar which still appals us by its in- cidents, and which rendered the year 1782 so memorable in history. Nearly all the scenes of that sanguinary drama took place under his eyes. With one hundred men who acted as marines, this heroic exile served as volunteer in the ship of the French admiral, who with inefiectual valour endeavoured so gallantly but so fruitlessly to prevent the relief of Gibraltar by Lord Hood. The heroism which O'Connell displayed on this occasion was so highly appreciated by Louis XVI., that his majesty invested him with the command of a regiment of Germans then serving in the French army, with the title of Colonel- Commandant. This regiment of " Salm Salm," as it was termed, at that time was a mere mob, consisting of 2,400 men in two battalions ; but under his management it became perfect in discipline, and when in 1782 it marched into the great French camp at Metz, it was received with admii'ation and pronounced the finest regiment under the French crown. In 1788 he was appointed one of the inspectors-general of the French infantry — a position of high importance, which afibrded him an opportunity of exercising those great talents for mili- * " Pencillings by the Way." + Perhaps nothing can more strikingly display the estimation in -which they were held, than the fact that Hemy O'Donnell, of Murresk in Mayo, received in marriage, in 1754, a near relative of the Empress Maria Theresa, descended from an Emperor of Greece, John Cantacuzene, wha reigned from 1347 to 1355. LIFE AND TIMES OP o'CONNELL. 11 tary organization with which he was so eminently endowed. Here he had the distinguished merit of originating the system of internal organisation, since universally adopted in the in- fantry regiments of all European armies. Sir Bernard Burke, with reference to this system, tells us, that in the 3'ear 1788, "The French government resolved that the art of war should undergo revision ; and a military board was formed for this purpose, comprising four general officers and one colonel. The colonel selected was O'Connell, who was esteemed one of the most scientific officers in the service. Without patronage or family he had risen to a colonelcy before he had attained his fortieth year. Only a few meetings of the board had taken place when the superior officers, struck with the depth and accuracy of information, gi-eat mihtaiy genius, and coiTect views displayed by Colonel O'Connell, unanimously agreed to confide to him the renewal of the whole French military code ; and he executed the arduous duty so perfectly that his tactics were those followed in the early campaigns of revolu- tionised France, adhered to by Napoleon, and adopted by Prussia, Austria, Russia, and England." What Lady Morgan says of Richard Kirwan, the philoso- pher, is perfectly applicable to Count O'Connell. "Born in an epoch of Irish story the most marked, the most heart- rending, under that regime of terror, when the worst penal statutes against the Catholics were first imposed ; born, too, and receiving his first and deepest impressions in a district poetically and historically the most Irish, he preserv^ed, from the early part of the last century to the commencement of the present, the high and formal courtesy, the gallant bearing, and chivalrous point of honour, the broad guttural accent, and the idiomatic phraseology with which the brave officers who survived the siege of Limerick went forth into voluntary exile, to fight and perish in foreign lands for foreign interests." On the eve of the gi'eat French revolution, in 1789, when the tempest of popular violence which subsequently drenched Europe with blood was louring in the darkening sky, and about to burst on France, he commanded the foreign regi- ments which then wrapt Paris in a circle of steel. In that high position the military talents of the exiled Irishman might have averted from the throne the disasters which overturned it — he might have snatched from the mad whirl of popular rage the royal martyr whom he idohzed. But he was not al- lowed to act — the benevolent imbecility and irresolute mind of Louis XVI. shrank appalled from the alarming suggestion of 12 LIFE AND TIMES OF o'CO^"NELL. crushing, by the ai-ms of the Brigavle, the insurgents of the French metropoHs. Yet this would have been possible. In after life General Count O'Connell was often heard to declare, that had the foreign troops been allowed, they were willing and able to sweep the streets of Paris of the canaille with gi-ape and canister, and strangle in its cradle the revolutionary Hercules. The experiment of repression, however, was pre- vented by the vacillation of the humane monarch, who revolted in fright and horror at the carnage which must in that event crimson his capital. So long as personal devotion and loyal attachment could serve the cause of falling royalty, the undying fidelity of Greneral Count O'Crnneli kept him close to the side of his king. But when individual devotedness was no longer avail- ing, he prepared, with his companions in aiTus, to quit France. The scene of the separation of the loyal soldiers and the grateful monarch is one of the most affecting episodes in history. The Irish Brigade — who in the French service had long received double pay — were'under arms and about to inarch from France, after a century of military service, covered with military glory. They had halted to receive the last sa- lutations of the unfortunate Louis XYI. in the person of Monsieui' his brother. Their interview was deeply interesting. He advanced to the fi*ont of the Brigade. The officers formed a circle round him. Many were honoured by the most flat- tering marks of his personal attention. He addressed them under evident feelings of agitation : " "We acknowledge, gentle- men," said he, '*the invaluable senices which France, during the lengthened period of one hundred years, has received from the Irish Brigade — services which we shall never forget, though totally unable to repay. Receive this standard" — it was embroidered with a shami'ock and fleur-de-Us — '*a pledge of our remembrance, a token of om- admu-ation and respect ; and this, generous Hibernians, shall be the motto on your spotless coloui-s : ' 1692, 1792. Semper et uhique fideles.''^ Having served in the short and disastrous campaign of the Duke of Brunswick as colonel a la suite of a hussar regiment, General Count O'Connell emigrated to England, where he was so unfortunate and ill-advised as to prevail on the British government to take into its service the illustrious Irish Bri- gade. The policy of the EngHsh aristocracy to those heroic regiments was hterally murderous. Like those ten thousand * " Ever}-vvhere and always faithful." — See Teeliug's " Irish Rebel- lioiv," LIFE AIvD TIMES OF o'COXNELL. 13 Irishmen whom Cromwell sold as slaves to the Y/est India planters, the gallant regiments of the Irish Brigade were shipped off to the plague-breathing islands of the pestiferous tropics, where they were literally devoured alive by the poison- ous climate. The dreadful demon of disease which haunts those beautiful scenes mowed them down by hundreds, and in a short time there was scarcely a man of them leffc. Their illustrious standard — that gonfalon of glory which so often waved in the sulphureous sirocco of tempestuous battle, now droops in dusty decay, faded and motionless, in the lonely aisle of a half- deserted church in one of those West India islands, flowery but poisonous, whose every breeze is deadly ! In the gloomy annals of human tm-pitude, perhaps there is nothing more atrocious than the perfidious treatment of the Irish Brigade by the English aristocracy. It can only be sur- passed by the slow and ignominious murder of Napoleon I. in the pestilential island of St. Helena. The men were cruelly deprived of life — the officers meanly cheated of then* pay. General Count O'Connell was one of the few who came alive out of that " place of skulls." Breathing with impunity the pestiferous atmosphere which hurried so many of his comrades to the grave, he manied in the West Indies a creole lady of St. Domingo. At the peace of Amiens ho returned to France, to urge the claims of his wife to some hmded property. When that short inten'al of tranquillity was suddenly terminated by the outburst of renewed war, General Count O'Connell (as a British subject) was retained a French prisoner; andv/hen the leagued bayonets of allied Em-ope secm-ed to the head of Louis XYIII. the tarnished crown of reluctant France, Count O'Connell was restored to his rank of general in the French anny while retaining his commission as colonel in the British service. He thus was in receipt of v/hat was nearly unparal- ^ leled — mihtary pay from those two rival governments. He died in 1834, when he had reached his ninety-nrst year. The wealth which he obtained in honour he distributed in charity, and the schools which he founded and the benevolent estab- lishments he enriched previous to his death, attest, in his favom'ite barony of Iveragh, the generosity of his heart and the piety of his gallant and patriotic spirit. As to the name of O'Connell, it is now universally admitted that Irish names were not derived from the districts in which the clans lived, but from individuals of celebrity from whom they claimed to be descended. The clan did not take its name from the land — but the land took its name from the tribe who 14 LIFE AND TIMES OF O'CONNELL. inhabited the country. The term Cincl-Conail, taken literally, signifies the kindred of Conal, but taken geogi'aphically, it sig- nifies the territory where the descendants of Conal lived. — The district termed Cinel-Conail, in the county Limerick, Tvas the orighial tribe-land of the ancestors of the Liberator, and from this they were expelled by the warlike tribes in their vicinity. It was the opinion of the Liberator himself that this district was the original seat of his clan. When travelling on one occasion from Charleville to Limerick, he informed a friend that the barony of Connelloe, through which they were then passing, had belonged to his ancestors. He re- gretted that when Emancipation passed he did not thence- forth write his name O'Conal, as this was the original mode of spelling it. " There is scarcely a Catholic family in L'eland," says a distinguished writer, "■ whose story, if impartially told, would not illustrate the misinile by which the prosperity of the coun- try has been overthrown and its genius nullified. From the beginning to the end of the last century, to have been bom a Catholic was a stigma which no talent could efiace, no patriotism remove." This is so clearly demonstrated in the annals of the family of O'Conal that we shall, with the reader's permission, glance for a moment at the history of the tribe : The surname of O'Conal emanated fi'om Cor)Al 3<^^]^<^ an ancient prince of the royal line of Heber, whose tribe or clan, before the English invasion — forced by the fortunes of war — retreated from Connelloe in Limerick to Iveragh in Kerry. In this district they flourished for a considerable time as lord- chiefs of Iveragh. 2lobT), or Hugh O'Conal, by a commission issued by Edward III. in the year 1337, is authorised to re- duce by arms some refractoiy tribes in the county of Lime- rick. This Hugh was succeeded by his son and namesake Hugh, or 2lobl), lord-chief of Iveragh, and by him the tribe- lands of his clan were long and gallantly defended with the sword against the invasive encroachments of the Geraldines. Hugh — -the second of the name — was married to Marguerita, daughter of Mahon H. O'Brien, Prince of Thomond. From this union sprang Jeflery O'Conal who, in a royal order on the Iiish exchequer dated 1372, is specially mentioned as lord- chief of his " nation." This Jefiery was married to Catherine O'Connor, daughter of the chief of Traghty O'Connor, by whom he had a son named Daniel, who succeeded him as **The O'Conal." This Daniel is specially mentioned in a treaty LIFE A^^) TIMES OF O CONNELL. 15 dated 1421, as at that period lord-chief of his district. Daniel was married to Honora, daughter of 0"Sullivan Beare, lord- chief of Dunboy, in the county Cork. By this lady Daniel had a son, Hugh, the third of his name, who succeeded as arch-duke of his tribe. This Hugh was knighted by Sir Richard Nugent, afterwards lord-deputy of Ireland. In 1490, Hugh received from Heniy VII. an order on the Irish ex- chequer for £20, for services rendered to the English interests in the province of Munster. Hugh was married to Mary, daughter of McCarthy More, Prince of Desmond, by whom he had a son named Maurice. This Maurice armed his clan in defence of Perkin Warbeck, in opposition to the reigning monarch, Henry VII. ; but Maurice was pardoned on the 24th August, 1496, by Henry VII. In the follo^\ing reign we find that Morgan O'Conal undertook to pay a crown rent of twenty pence, Irish, to Henry VIII., as a recognition of that monarch's authority. This chief was appointed by Edward VI. high sherifi of the county Kerry. His son and successor, Packard, sub- mitted to EHzabeth, and served in her army against the rebels of Desmond. In 1641, Daniel O'Conal was living at Aghgore in the barony of Iveragh. He did not participate in the rebellion, and thus preserved his estate. In 1655, John O'Connell of Ashtown, near Dublin, the brother of the lineal ancestor of the Liberator, proved his good affection to Oliver Cromwell by conforming to Protes- tantism. He thereby preserved his estate. " I saw his escut- cheon," said the Liberator, " on the wall of St. James's church, in Dublin, some twenty years ago. I do not know if it be there still." " O'Connell," says O'Neill Daunt, " was angry at the dispa- raging manner in which his family had been spoken of by ' Mask,' an anonymous wi'iter who described leading members of parliament. ' The vagabond allows me a large share of talent, but he says I am of humble origin. My father's family was very ancient, and my mother was a lady of the first rank.' " In the time of James II. Maurice O'Conal, of the county Clare, was a general of brigade and colonel of the king's guards. In that regiment John O'Conal of DarrjTiane — the lineal an- cestor of the Liberator — served at the head of a company of foot which he himself had raised and embodied in the regi- ment. This officer served at the siege of Derry, at the Boyne, and Aughrim — engagements in which he signalised himself. 16 LIFE AXD TIMES OF o'COXXELL. The battle of Augkrim, beautifully alluded to by Moore, was witnessed by him : ** Night closed around the con(|ueror's way, And lightnings showed the distant hill, "^Tieic chose who lost that dreadM day Stood few and faint — but fearless still." "When the Irish lost the day at Aughrim, John retired with his shattered regiment to Limerick, and was included in the treaty or capitulation of that stronghold. Eespecting this gentleman, O'Connell told an anecdote in the House of Com- mons, which awakened a storm of anger, gi'oans, and turbu- lence. When the storm had abated, O'Connell — unabashed by the noisy vociferation of the house — proceeded with his anecdote — which he deemed illustrative of the subject before him : ''On the morning of the battle of Aughrim, an ancestor of mine, who commanded a company of infantry in King James's army, reprimanded one of his men who had neglected to shave himself, ' Oh ! your honour,' said the soldier, ' who- ever takes the trouble of cutting my head oil in battle may take the trouble of shaving it when he goes home.' " John, who served under James II., had a son named Daniel. This Daniel, son of John, was the father of Morgan, who in his turn was father of the remarkable Agitator, of whom a German said, " He should rank with Christopher Columbus and Yasco de Gama — for he discovered Ireland." The house in which the - future Liberator was born is not a ruin, as Fagan erroneously states. That house was demolished, and out of its materials a second house was formed. That second house has mouldered into ruin ; and this ruin is the monument which travellers are shown as the birthplace of the Liberator. Of the house in which O'Connell was bom, no ti'ace whatever remains. One of the most remarkable members of the O'Connell family was a second cousin of the Liberator's named Morgan O'Connell, of Ballybrake, who entered the seiwice of Austria, reached the rank of lieutenant- colonel, and was appointed " gold key" or chamberlain to the emperor — a fact which greatly sm*prised Prince Puckler Muskau, who, in his work on Ireland, asks in astonishment, "can this be the case?" so exalted in the estimation of Germans is this dignity. The motto of the Clan-Connell is QaI a^ixv ve.\]i-, "judg- ment and power," attributes which unquestionably character- ised the distinguished subject of this sketch. The O'Connells retained an estate named Glancarra from a period prior to the LIFE AXD TDIES OF o'COXXELL. 17 penal laws. This estate escaped confiscation because it was not discoYered by the confiscators. Its remote situation, hidden among wild mountains and inaccessible from want of roads, caused it to escape the clutches of the harpies who loved to hover round and pounce on the property of Ca- tholics.* / During the year which followed O'Connell's birth, an event auspicious to Ireland took place. The fears and selfishness of the Protestants produced a slight relaxation of the Catholic penal code. The booming cannon of American insurrection, which appalled the British aristocracy in their palaces and distressed the monarch on his throne, produced the panic teiTors which in 1776 first loosed Catholic chains. Stimu- lated by the thunders of transatlantic wai", the Irish aristocracy had discovered that it was desirable to allow the hewer of wood and drawer of water a little force and fi'eedom to accom- * With that perverse and amusing ingenuity which has but too often characterized incompetent, unprincipled, and common-place men, who find theu- way into om- halls of legislation, the House of Commons solemnly declared, in direct opposition to the honest impulses of human nature itself, that the profession of an informer was an " honourable office." To the Irish Pailiament it proved as dithcult a task, however, to make in- formers honourable as it proved to Canute to make the waves obedient. The Irish people could never be induced to pervert their principles and contort their nature into a respect for the treachen*, baseness, duphcity, and malice which necessarily characterize the ductile tools of suspicious oppression. They scouted them with honor, and excluded them from their households with tremulous caution, as is e\-ident from the following anecdote of the O'Connell family. In Dr. Smith's " Ilistor)' of Keiry" we find little mention of the O'Connell family. An anecdote told of old Maurice O'Connell will account for the neghgence of the historian. In the coiu-se of his Iherary peregrinations Dr. Smith ^-isited Darn,nane, where he was entertained for several days by the grandi'ather of the great Agitator. The patriarch of Iveragh, in the course of conversa- tion, communicated to the historian mauy interesting particulars of local and domestic historA-. ^V armed by his genial hospitahty and dehghted with his fund of a ecdote, Dr. Smith proposed to Maurice to devote a due proportion of the forthcoming history to the virtues and heroism of the Clan-Connell. The reply was not very encom-aging : " "NVe have peace in these glens, Mr. Smith," said the patriarch, " and amid their seclusion enjoy a respite from persecution : we can still in these solitudes profess the beloved faith of our fathers. If man is against us, God assists us; he gives us wherewithal to pay for the education of our children in foreign lands and to further their advancement in the Irish Brirade ; but if you make mention of me or mine, these sea-side sohtudes will no longer yield us an asylum. The Sassenayh will scale the mouirtaius of Darn-nane, and we too shall be diiven out upon the world without house or home." The wishes of the patiiarch were respected by the historian — a broken sentence is all he devotes to the aimals of the Clau-ConuelL 18 LIFE AND TIMES OF o'CCNNELL. plish his task — and thus the penal chain was lightened that the Irish slave might toil. Three months after the Americans proclaimed their country independent, the first act for the relief of Irish Catholics passed both houses of the Irish Parliament. This bill enabled Ca- tholics to take leases for 999 years, and even purchase land under certain restrictions. It recognised as citizens the Ca- tholic natives of the country, who were previously regarded as having no existence in their native country. The Irish Catholics, hke the American Indians, had been re- garded as aliens and intruders in their own country, strangers in their fatherland. Some time before the introduction of this bill, it was gravely stated from the bench that the laws did not presume a Papist to exist in the kingdom, " nor could they breathe," it was said, *' without the connivance of the government." One of those sublime and dai'ing fictions in which law leaves poetry so far behind iU^ This relief bill, which is known to lawyers as the 17 & 18 George III., exempted Catholics, in some degree at least, from the most harassing, odious, and unnatural of then* many forms of persecution. The profligate son could no longer bring his virtuous father, in the grey evening of his venerable life, with shame, sorrow, and beggary to the grave. The young rene- gade was deprived of the power to despoil his hoary parent of his landed property. But so reluctant is tyranny to forego the unhallowed pleasures of oppression, that still the youthful reprobate could plead the old statute where goods and chattels came in question. He could still rob his father of the per- sonal fruits of life-long industry, and despoil him of what he acquired in business by a pretended conformity to the estab- lished faith. Nor did the parent purchase repose by the total surrender of such efi'ects. Very far from it. The unnatural son was encouraged by a nefarious legisla- ture (determined to demoralize him) to bring in a fresh bill, and compel a new distribution when he discovered that his father had acquired by industry an increase of property, since he was first despoiled. Such was the state of the law so late as 1792! Previously to this relief bill no Catholic could either inherit, acquire, or bequeath landed property. Morgan O'Connell — the father of the Liberator — had nevertheless contrived to acquire property. He was one of those industrious Catholics who managed to ''deceive the senate," and make themselves easy * Moore's " Captain Rock." LIFE AND TniES OF o'CONXELL. 19 and comfortable. He had purchased privately a small estate which he transferred to a Protestant who made himself conve- nient to Catholic gentlemen in this way. We are told that in- stances were not wanting among the Protestants, in that dark and disastrous period, of this honourable fidelity. The seeds of humanity could not be eradicated from the breast of Pro- testants by all the contrivances of a satanic legislation, by the influence of religious hatred, the contagion of example, and the menaces of power ; and the cunning evasion of those iniquitous statutes by suffering Catholics was facilitated, encom'aged, and connived at by generous Protestants. Thomas Moore illustrates this admirable conduct of Insh Protestants in his " Life of Captain Rock." He speaks of a Protestant barber '' who, though his o^ti property did not ex- ceed a few pounds in value, actually held in fee the estates of most of the Catholic gentry of the county in which he lived. *'Let me add," ]\Ir. Moore goes on to say, ** for the honour of human nature and periwig-making, that though the legisla- tm-e had set a high premium on perfidy, this Protestant barber was never known to betray his trust, but remained the faithful depository of this proscribed wealth, which an 'honourable' hint to the law officers would have made his own for ever." It was the opinion of O'Connell himself, that no landed estates could have remained in the possession of Catholics, "only that individual Protestants were found a great deal honester than the laws. The Freeman family of Castlecor," he observed, ''were trustees for a large number of Catholic gentlemen in the county of Cork. In Kerry there was a Pro- testant named Hugh Falvey who acted as tmstee for many Catholic proprietors there. In Dublin there was a poor Pro- testant in very humble circumstances who was trustee for several Catholic gentlemen and discharged his ti-ust with per- fect integrity." At that time the Irish reas were scoured by a formidable pirate, who spread terror along the coast of England, and occasionally anchored in the harbours of Ireland. This was the celebrated Paul Jones, one of the most daring and remark- able adventurers of the last century, whose tafrail was alter- nately decorated with the streaming stripes and stars of American republicanism and the hvUlmni Jiew-de-Us of French despotism. He had letters of marque fi'om both states, and waged impla- cable war uniformly against the power of Britain, under two standards. When this daring adventurer encountered British men-of-war, he laid himself alongside and sunk or plundered 20 LIFE AND TDIES OF o'CO^'XELL. them in the open seas. Britain rarely encountered a more pertinacious and troublesome adversary than this hardy Scotch- man, whose heroic intrepidity, in the narrow seas where he scared the British mariners, was only to be equalled by his gallantry in Parisian salons, where he delighted French beauty, and was feted, flattered, and lionized by the French noblesse. On the mind of the young and rosy child, Daniel O'Connell, then only thi^ee years old, this fierce rover of the surges made a fearful and inefi^aceable impression. Gamboling at the head of Valentia harbour — that noble and capacious estuary whose desolate waters, unbroken by a keel, were of themselves sufiicient to inspire his impressionable mind with aversion for the unnatural government which neglected it — the comely and ingenuous boy, his golden ringlets playing in the wind, beheld, with unspeakable interest, three men-of-war one day looming in the distance or approaching the shore. These ships consti- tuted the fleet of the privateer. They were commanded by the bold adventurer in person, manned for the most part by Irish seamen, and having a company of the Irish Brigade serving as marines, on board. Paul Jones had swelled the number of his hands by drafts from the French prisons, where many Irishmen captm'ed in war were draining away their Hves in di^eary incarceration. These men were not satisfied with the service into which they had been allured or coerced ; and in the proud vessels which rode so gaily in the offing, discontent was brooding over wrongs, and mutiny waiting for opportunity. The winds which had aided him hitherto died away vexa- tiously, as Jones closed in with the shore of KeiTy ; and as the tide below was running towards the land at the very moment when from the absence of a breeze his vessels became un- manageable, he seemed to those on shore likely to be drifted gradually into the dangerous and intricate channel between Skellig rocks and Yalentia harbour, and thus VkTecked in the open day. To avert this disaster, he put out boats which towed him from his dangerous position. With the fall of evening, a light v.ind sprang up and the ships could be seen spreading their widening sails, taking the welcome breeze in their bellying canvass, and slowly shaping their course for the open sea. At the same time a signal was run up, as the spectators on the shore could plainly discern, which ordered the boatmen on board. This signal the latter seemed to be insensible of. They loitered, as if reluctant to obey the com- mand, and finally two boats, availing themselves of the deep- LIFE AND TIMES OF O'CONXELL. 21 ening darkness of approaching night, pulled powerfully and desperately for the shore. As darkness precluded pursuit, the fugitive boatmen reached Valentia harbour in hot haste and perfect safety. They were received v,^th apparent hospitality but real treacheiy by a gentleman of the neighbourhood, who first entertained them at his house, and then secretly informed the authorities, and perudiously suiTendered them to the minions of the government. It was vdth no ordinaiy interest that the wondering and timid child, who was destined to be one day the fomiidable and fearless Agitator, gazed awe -struck on the gleaming arms, brilliant uniforms, and moving panorama presented by the mi- litary escort and their seafaring prisoners as they marched out of Cahirsiveen in the direction of Tralee. He was particularly amused by one, who for some reason or other was mounted on a grey nag, and who, with flom'ishing gesticulations and preposterous verbosity, declaimed loudly against the treachery and ill-treatment experienced by him and his comrades. — O'Connell never forgot this man. He was, in a miniature way, acting towards the prisoners as O'Connell acted subse- quently towards an entire nation': — denouncing theii- wrongs. '' He seemed," said O'Connell, " the lainjer of his pa'rty." In narrating the story to O'Neill Daunt, O'Connell said: '' When they landed they went to a pubhc house to drink, leaving some fii-e-arms in the boats. The muskets were found by some peasants who drenched them; and the sailors were seized by the orders of Mr. Hassett, and conveyed to Tralee to prison. They remonstrated loudly against this treatment, alleging that they had not committed nor intended any breach of the laws, and that the authorities had no right to deprive them of theu' liberty. I well recollect a tall fellow who was mounted on a grey horse, remonstrating angrily at this co- ercion. No legal charge of com-se could be sustained against them, and accordingly in the end they were released. "=:- Exasperated apparently by the desertion of these men, and resolved to sulier no loss hj their tergiversation, Paul Jones seized a number of poor fishermen who were loitermg in their lagging corraglis off the same coast. These men were witnesses or actors in the terrible fight which Paul Jones gallantly fought off Flamborough Head with the British fiigate Serapis. Paul Jones compelled the Semjns to strike to the Fleur-de-lis. The moment he stepped on board his prize, his own ship, shattered by the fight and riddled by cannon shot, reeled, * ♦' Personal Recollections." 22 LIFE AND TIMES OF o'CONNELL. foundered, and went down into the deep. It was a terrible engagement, and reflected high honoui* on the daring seaman- ship of Paul Jones. The Irish fishermen, whom he had picked up near Kerry, he landed near Brest, where they were empk)yed in the labours of the arsenal, and where they saved money which, on their return home at the end of the war, made their old age com- paratively comfortable in Ireland. Alluding to his mother, O'Connell, in a letter to the Belfast Vindicator, dated 20th January, 1841, said: '' I am the son of a sainted mother, who watched over my childhood with the most faithful care ; she was of a high order of intellect, and what little I possess was bequeathed me by her, I may in fact say without vanity, that the superior situation in which I am placed by my countr^nnen has been owing to her. Her last breath was passed, I thank heaven, in calling down blessings on my head ; and I valued her blessing since. In the perils and the dangers to which I have been exposed through life, I have regarded her blessing as an Angel's shield over me, and as it has been my protection in this life, I look forward to it also as one of the means of obtaming hereafter a happiness gTeater than any this world can give." The maiden-name of this lady was Kate O'Mullane. She was the daughter of Mr. O'Mullane, of Whitechurch, near Cork. Representing an old Catholic family, Mr. O'Mullane possessed a considerable extent of landed property, which fell subsequently hy purchase into the hands of the O'Connells. During O'Connell's childhood, the mountains of Glencarra were infested by a daring band of ferocious robbers who nightly scoured the plains of Clare and Galway, and successfully di'ove away the oxen and sold them daily in the fairs of Kerry ; or with impartial rapacity swept off the stolen beeves of KeiTy and disposed of them retributively in Galway and Clare. The harassed farmers regarded these " Crelaghs," as they nick- named them, with terror and loathing ; but their hatred was repressed by fear, because the Protestant gentry extenled to the freebooters a kind of negative protection. A portion of the ppoil which the grateful robbers presented to the sympathising magistrates rewarded this profitable connivance. Emboldened by an impunity which, having purchased, they regarded as a right, the robbers stole fi'om the lands of Morgan O'Connell, who was unwell at the time, fourteen cows. Exasperated by this outrage, the father of the future Liberator, at the head of an armed party, penetrated the mountain defiles and proceeded LIFE AND TIMES OF o'CONNELL. 23 to storm the haunt of the banditti. The struggle which ensued was of a very desperate and even sanguinary character, as the Crelaghs offered a fierce resistance, in the course of which the father of young Daniel wounded one and captured two ; while the remainder of the robbers broke through their assailants and effected their escape, to renew in another part of the country the depredations which made them so formidable in Glencarra. One evening as !\Iorgan O'Connell was riding home alone, he was set upon by these desperadoes ; determined to revenge on his fi'iendless head the injuries which, when sun-ounded by companions, he had inilicted on them. Rushing down the slope of a mountain they called on him with threats to stop, and fii'ed on him as he continued his course. His horse at this moment, temfied by the discharge of the musket, became im- manageable, and he was flung heavily to the ground. While thus prostrate he was again fired at, but fortunately without effect. Regaining his feet, he succeeded in recovering his horse, and springing upon its back, he was speedily bej'ond the reach of the banditti, who pm-sued and fired at him as he fled. Some time subsequently one of the Crelaghs was convicted of horse- steaHng at Tralee. Leaning on the bar, he heard the sentence of death with a degree of savage apathy which astonished every spectator in the court. "Is it listening to his lordship you are, you stupid gomeril?" exclaimed a by- stander, with unfeigned amazement. "Don't j^ou see it's listening I am?" replied the prisoner angiily ; " but fot do I care fot he says. Is not Colonel Blennerhasset looking at me — isn't he — all the time? and he says nothing." The prisoner, doubtless, relied on the presents which he had given the Colonel for an entire immunity from the penalty of crime. To understand the benefits which Ireland has reaped from the labom's of O'Connell, we must understand the mode in which justice was administered during his boyhood. For in- stance, the noted Denis O'Brien had a record at Nenagh, and learning that the judge had talked of purchasing a set of carriage horses, Denis sent him a magnificent set. The judge graciously accepted the horses, praised their points ex- travagantly, and then charging the jm'y in favour of Denis, obtained a verdict for him. The moment Denis gained his point he sent in a bill to the judge tor the full value of the horses. His lordship called Denis aside to expostulate pri- vately with him. "Oh! Mr. O'Brien," said he, "I did not think you meant to charge me for those horses. Come now, 24 LIFE AND rOTES OF o' CO'SyT.-LL. my dear friend, -why should I pay yon for them ?" '' Upon my word that is cnrions talk," retorted Denis, in a tone of fierce defiance. '"I'd like to know Vhy your lordship should not pay me for them ?" To this inquiry of course a reply was impos- sible. The judge was obliged 'to hold his peace and pay the money.* The counsellor is feed in our times, but in the times pre- ceding the birth of O'Connell the judge hkewise required a fee. It was impossible for poverty to obtain justice. The rich could ply the judge with golden reasons which were alike in-esistible and unanswerable. At that time the value of land was estimated by its capa- bility of feeding a certain number of stock. This was the most natural, and perhaps the only possible way of computing terri- torial value. In the remoter parts of L-eland the gentry moved frequently from one farm to another, "^lien they and their household had consumed the produce of one farm, they migra- ted to consume the food furnished by the next. Mr. Maurice O'Connell had a house at Logher, and occasionally moved thither from Darrynane. He found it easier and cheaper to move the family to the food than the food to the family, as conveyances were bad and the roads a great deal worse. In some districts indeed neither roads nor cars existed, and where the farms were at a considerable distance from each other, the best expedient was to mount the household upon hoi-seback and transport them all to the provisions. These excursions, to which he frequently adverted in after days, added much to the guileless enjoyments of O'Connell's childhood. f EQs confessor in early boyhood was a Father Grady, who dwelt with Maurice O'Connell and acted as CathoHc rector of the parish. Of him a curious anecdote is told. Eesiding at Louvain during the wars of Marlborough, the good priest found himself reduced to the utmost distress, as, owing to the troubled state of Flanders, his profession afi'orded him no means of subsistence. In helpless and deplorable penury he begged his way to the coast, hoping to meet some vessel whose captain might take hiTn for charity to Ii'eland. Animated with this slender hope he was trudging slowly and paiDfully along, when he suddenly fell in with a band of robbers. One of the robbers was a Kerryman, named Denis Mahony, who moved to compassion by the penniless poverty of the priest, and charmed with the sound of his native tongue, gave him out of his own share of plunder the means of returning to Ireland. * " Personal Recollections," by O'Neni Daunt. f I^id. LliE AND TIMES Of o'CON'XELL. 25 *' God be merciful to poor Denis Mahonv," Father Grady was accustomed to sa_v, when relating this adventure ; "I found him a nsefol Mend in need. But for all that he might prOTe a yerr disagreeable neighbour." The Liberator in after years accounted for the appearance of a native of Kerry among a gang of Flemish robbers, by supposing that he had served in Marlborough's army, and, de- serting from ill treatment, sought subsistence on the highway as a footpad. This reverend gentleman, Father Grady, on his return to Ireland, was prosecuted and tried in Tralee on the charge of being a ''Popish priest." A flippant witness mounted the table and swore he had heard him '' say" Mass. " Prav, sir," said the judge, '* how do vou know he said Mass?"' " I heard biTn say it, my lord," replied the witness. " Did he say it in Latin *?" inquired his lordship. "Yes, my lord." '•' Then you understand Latin ?" " A Uttle." ** What words did you hear him use ?" *' Ave Maria.'' " That is part of the Lord's Prayer ; is it not ?" *' Yes, my lord," was the fellow's answer. '•'Here is a pretty witness to convict the prisoner," cried the judge ; "he swears that Are Mana is Latin for the Lords Prayer." As the judge pronounced a favourable charge, the jury acquitted Father Grady. From the persecuted confessor we naturally turn to the tutor of 0"Connell, who was likewise persecuted. The manner in which the acquisition of the English alpha- bet was made by the fature Liberator, must not be passed over in sUence. One day the house at Carhen was visited by a wandering teacher — one of those hedge-schoolmasters who, in defiance of law, communicated the rudiments of literature to clustering scholars, where, " Stretched on motuitain feni. The pupil and his teacher met Feloniously to learn." The itinerant teacher took the blooming child upon his knee, and with honied words and kind ende^iments smoothed his ruffled locks, and with a pocket comb loosed the tangles of his golden hair. The grateful child, charmed with this attention (which contrasted favourablv with the hurried manner and 2 ii6 LIFE AKr. TIMES OF o'CONNELL. painful petulance of the female servants -u'lio tortured when combing him), ^delded a slow consent to learn his letters. — He mastered the alphabet in an hour, and unquestionably made vast use in after life of that invaluable acquisition. This shows that what the Catholic was not allowed to take he stole ; he was educated in defiance of penalty, in the face of priva- tion ; he was educated under every restriction of penal law. A periodical teiTaed the Dublin Magazine was published in the Irish metropoHs while young Daniel abode with his uncle In DaiTynane. Piiats of distinguished persons accompanied by a biogTaphical notice appeared in this magazine. Poring over these prints the young and ambitious boy, fii'ed with emulation, often whispered to himself, " I wonder will my por- trait ever appear in the Dublin Magazine T' He could at that time imagine no greater celebrity. In the year 1810 his anti- cipation was reahsed ; O'Connell's portrait appeai'ed in the Dublin Magazine. Two Protestant gentlemen at this time paid a visit to Darry- nane. As there was no Protestant chmxh in the vicinity, they were reduced to the alternative on Sunday of going to Father Grady's Mass, or doing without divine worship. They chose to go to Mass ; and on entering the chapel sln-ank back fasti- tiiously from the holy water, which the clerk was scattering Nvith gi'eat liberality in copious showers on eveiy side. The indignation of the honest clerk was roused by this unaccount- able squeamishness, which he regarded as a slight on the cere- mony and an insult to his profession. He placed himself with a smile quietly behind the sanctuaiy door, through which they had to pass, and slashed the contents of his full- charged brush into then- faces. The futm-e Liberator laughed immoderat.ely and danced with delight at this occmTence, as the blank and discomfited faces of the disconcerted Protestants, di'owned in w^ater and perfectly dolorous, seemed to his young eyes irre- sistibly ludicrous. Some time subsequently a private play was performed at Tvalee in which the young O'Connell was an actor. Another boy, named Ealph Hickson, had likewise a part to perform. Hickson's speech was not very long. It consisted of a few words, "Put the horses to the coach." Into this short sen- tence the young performer introduced an egi'egious blunder. He said, ''Put the horses into the coach," to the no small amusement of om- youthful hero. The first large volume perused by the futiu'e Liberator was ^ Captain Cook's Voyage round the World." Captain Cook, LIFE A^-D TQIZS OF O CuXXELL. 2/ wlio had been the son of a farm servant, delighted young O'Connell. The boy read the book -^th intense avidity. — "When asked by the other children to play, the fnture Agitator would bury himself with his book in the recess of a window at Darrynane, and sitting cross-legged and incumbent, devour the adventures of Captain Cook. The book in question helped to improve him in geogi*aphic knowledge. He loved to trace the career of the navigator on a map of the world, and follow his roving vessels from isle to isle and sea to sea round the globe. There he would sit, poring over the ponderous tome, silently absorbed in the narrative, while other lads of his age, engaged in noisy games, were screaming with pleasure or squabbling in transient exasperation. Owing to this passion for study, O'Connell in boyhood had the reputation of being distant, cold, and even unsocial. In such studies, however, he passed whole days, " Nourishing a vouth sublime With the fairv tales of science and the long results of time." " I liked ballads above all things when I was a boy," said O'Connell. " In 1787 I was brought to the Tralee assizes. Assizes were then a great mart for all kinds of amusements — and I was greatly taken with the ballad singers. It was then I heard two ballad singers, a man and a woman, chanting out a ballad which contained a verse I still remember : * I leaned my back against^ oak, I thought it was a trusty tree, But first it bent, and then it broke — 'Twas thus my love deserted me.' He sang the first two lines — she sang the third line, both toge- ther sang the fourth, and so on through the whole ballad." A segment of the skull of a fiiar, hewn down with the sword while saying Mass, by a soldier of Cromwell, had been pre- served in the O'Connell family, and had early made a profound impression on the plastic mind of young Daniel. The eye of the futui-e Liberator was often fixed on that appalling relic, and, doubtless, he often felt animated with an ardent desire to avenge the murder of the sacerdotal martyr, thus brutally im- molated on the steps of the altar. A party of fiiends were one day assembled roimd the hos- pitable board of O'Connell's father, where the events of the period were the topic of conversation. Having canvassed the respective merits of the leading statesmen — extolled Flood and denoimced Charlemont — the services and eloquence of Grattan became the subject of discussion. As the guests were pretty 28 LIFE AND TIMES OF O'CONNELL. equally divided on this question a warm debate ensued, during which the future Liberator — only nine years of age — was ob- served sitting dreamily in an arm-chair lost in thought. The unwonted gravity of the lad's countenance, his abstracted air, attracted the attention of a lady, who said to him suddenly, *'What ails j^ou, Dan? — what are you thinking of?" He tui'ned, and looldng at her said, "I'll make a stir in the world yet." He was brooding over the thick-coming fancies of his anticipative mind ; the ambition which invariably ac- companies talent was kindling in his young breast, and a pro- phetic sense of his future eminence was dawning within him. He was at that moment like the poet described by PoUok in his ''Course of Time," " Wlio deep and sudden vow Of resolution made to be renowned, And deeper vowed again to keep his vow." Adopted by his uncle Maurice in his early childhood, young Daniel was, at that gentleman's expense, sent to the school of the Rev. ]Mr. Hamngton, situated near Cork, in Long Island. He was then thu'teen years of age. ''I was the only boy at Harrington's school," he said at a subsequent period, " who was not beaten ; I owed this to my attention . . I was, in childhood, remarkably quick and persevering. My childish propensity to idleness was overcome by the fear of disgrace ; I desired to excel, and could not brook the idea of being inferior to others. One day I was idle, and my teacher, finding me imperfect in my lesson, threatened to beat me. But I shrank from the indignity, exclaiming, ' Don't beat me for one half-horn* ; if I have not my lesson by that time, beat me then.' The teacher granted me the reprieve, and the lesson, rather a difficult one, was thoroughly mastered." Father Harrington's school was the fiist opened by a priest subsequently to the relaxation of the penal code.* As the legislature refused to throw open the doors of univer- sity education to the Catholic people at home, it was absolutely necessary on their part to seek education in foreign countries. This was not always a disadvantage. The art of ehciting talent and cultivating the human mind — the science of education — had attained in France a high degree of perfection. They did not make such good machines, but they unquestionably pro- duced better scholars than the English. Previously to the administration of Cardinal Richelieu, England was perhaps su- * " Personal Recollections of Daniel O'Connell, Esq., M.P.," by W. J O'Neill Daunt. LIFE A.ND TIMES OF o'CONNELL. 29 perior to France in arts, sciences, and arms. At that time the mode of education in the two countries was much the same ; so that it is probable the pre-eminence of Britain was attri- butable to the native genius of the population. Cardinal Richelieu saw this, and laid effective plans to secui'e the future greatness of his country. That profound statesman was inti- mately persuaded that, like arable soil, the human mind can only be improved by culture, and that national greatness is best based on intellectual pre-eminence. He therefore changed the prevailing mode of education. He estabhshed numerous academies, and his successors improving on his design, multi- phed their number. These seminaries furnished the youth of France with every assistance in theory and practice which could contribute to render them masters of any profession urged by their genius or suggested by their choice, in art or science, the civil or military career. Academies were founded for the study of political economy, in which theory gave place to practice, and the mind was diligently trained to study the minutiae of the science. The land was crowded with academies of the French language and oratory, of the belles lettres, of painting, sculpture, architectui-e, and science, but above all with military academies. Out of these nm-series the rulers of France were always able to draw well informed and skilful officers, states- men, negociators, and ambassadors. From them have emanated those excellent writers who, surmounting the difficulties pre- sented by the native poverty of their language, v/rite eloquently on all subjects. The academies have produced artists whose decorative taste in vaiious manufactui-es furnishes France with treasures richer than mines of gold. Owing to the excellence of her educational system, France has abounded in what have rarely appeared under arbitraiy governments, admirable orators, whose compositions, in a language little suited to the require- ments of a public speaker, are the most eloquent in modem Europe. By these means France has been enabled to dazzle and astonish the eyes of the world by an imparalleled progress in the career of glory ; while England, so long foremost in the race, now relinquishes the torch and lags behind in the career. What has been the origin of this revolution ? It unquestion- ably sprung from the higher estimate of the value of educated intelligence which France has formed. When a stranger enters a di'awingi'oom in London the question is, *' what is he worth ?" In Paris when a stranger enters a salon the question is, "what has he achieved?" In old times England and France had the same mode of 30 LIFE AND TIMES OF o'CONNELL. education. England tlien was confessedly superior. France changed her mode of education while England continued hers unchanged, and Richelieu began the work which his successor carried to perfection. Buckingham, in England, endeavoured to rival Richelieu, but was foiled by the tui^bulent spiiit of his fanatical countrymen, and his attempt was never revived by his successor. The educational system established by Richelieu and the Jesuits remained much the same during successive centuries. France from that hour to the present has been gaining, England losing ground. If their disparity does not arise from the cultivation of the human mind, to what must we attribute it? France has been subject to an absolute mo- narchy, and in the usual com'se of things her advance should have been arrested rather than promoted by this restriction of liberty. The English in this respect boast of their pre-emi- nence over France. They tell us that theii' government is established on the best model and upon the best principles in the world. All this makes in favour of the English, and on the first glance we should say that if England were previously superior to France, she must at this day infinitely surpass her. But the contrary is the truth. That the existing splendour of France is attributable to her educational improvements, admits of the most irrefragible evi- dence. It must be remembered, that previously to these im- provements France, notwithstanding her extent of territory and numerous inhabitants, made but a contemptible figure in European history. In the early years of Louis XIII. she had no reputation for arts, arms, or policy ; her language was poor, her lands uncultivated, her commerce neglected, her manners brutal, and her territory untrodden by foreign visitors. Subsequently to the institution of those seminaries what did France become ? Let the reign of Louis XIV. answer this question. What is France at this moment ? Is she not in all essential points the sovereign of Europe. Ai'e not the youth of all lands ever flocking round her throne and paying homage to this queen of the nations ? Among these was young O'Connell. Sent to Flanders in the first instance, he proceeded subsequently to France, where, in 1791, he entered the famous coUege of St. Omers. On his way he encountered a Frenchman who, sitting opposite in the diligence, pom-ed out incessantly the most virulent tii'ades against England. O'Connell seemed perfectly satisfied ; and the Frenchman, astonished at his apathy, after talking a long time, lost patience with the young traveHer. LIFE AXn TIMES OF o'COXNELL. 31 *'Doyoii hear? Do you understand "what I am saying, sir?" *' Yes, I hear you — I comprehend you perfectly." " And yet you are not angry ?" "Not in the least." " How can you so tamely bear the censures I pronounce against your country ?" ** Sir, England is not my country. Censure her as much as you please — you cannot offend me. I am an Irishman, and my countrymen have as little reason to love England as 5-om's — perhaps less." The expense of his education was defrayed by his undo IMamice, the owner of Darrynane, who in Kerry was known by the soubriquet of "Hunting- cap," fii'om his partiality to that article of head-tire, which he rarely laid aside. The sub- ject of this work was inspired at this period with an ambition to distinguish himself by the example of General Count O'Con- nell, who left Ireland, like himself, at the early age of four- teen, and had risen rapidly in the French service. The marked character of O'Connell's talents, as exhibited in Father Harrington's school, where he spent a year, reached the ears of the general and aroused an interest in the promising lad ; and mainly at the general's solicitation, Mamice incurred the ex- pense of the continental education of the future "Liberator." It was money well expended ; for the brilliancy by which O'Connell's mind was characterised in the school of Father Harrington did not desert him in St. Omers. He was still head of his classes. The post of honour in those continental schools was taken usually by natives of Munster, who, generally speaking, left those of the other thi-ee provinces behind them — o^ing, no doubt, to that devotedness to mathematics and Latin which in their darkest days distinguished the childi'en of Munster. To these two branches of study the Irish on the Continent were mainly indebted for then* marked success in the army and civil service. They first, in hedge-schools, mastered Latin and " Voster," and every other intellectual acquisition proved comparatively easy. Men like Field-Marshal Brady and Ge- neral Count Nugent have- often expressed their predilection for Latin and mathematics as the main elements of success in life, and then' abhorrence of those "ologies" which have in some degree superseded them. We have known a case which illus- trates our statement. An Irish lad from Edgeworth's school, erudite in the " ologies " but imperfect in Latin and mathe- 32 LIFE AND TIMFS OF O CONNELL. matics, was sent out to his uncle, Field-Marshal Brady. But he failed, chiefly owing to that peculiar species of education, which Dr. Johnson compared to the rations of a besieged city, " where every one gets a mouthfal, and no one a bellyful." In St. Omers O'Connell had Munster men to contend with, particularly his kinsman Christopher Fagan, who in after life attained distinguished rank. But young O'Connell held his own, despite the formidable antagonism of this brilliant rival from his native province. Dm-ing O'Connell's residence in St. Omers the prodigious pa- norama of the French Revolution passed, in all its wild terrors and flaming grandeur, before (we may almost say) the excited eyes of the Irish student. Imbued with Bom'bonite partialities by his clerical instructors, the revolution, with its anti-Chris- tian manifestations, aroused his loathing and abhorrence. His young and pious heart was naturally shocked and horrified by the persecution and insults heaped upon his venerable reli- gion — a religion which, trampled on and crushed by the aris- tocracy in Ireland, w^as trampled on and persecuted in France with equal violence by the people. This made him a con- firmed monarchist.* With his illustrious countryman, Moore, he felt tempted at this time to execrate the French, *' Who at death's reeking altar, like furies caressing The young hope of freedom, baptized it in blood." This is the less surprising as the family of O'Connell had ever been devoted partisans of the Stuai-ts, as was only natural in Catholics who had suflered and bled under rigorous persecu- tion. The O'Connells, however, committed no overt acts of * "■ Certainly," said O'Connell, speaking when time had mellowed and modified his opinions, " that revolution was much needed, though it was bought at the price of so much blood. The ecclesiastical abbes were a great public nuisance ; they were chiefly cadets of noble famihes who were pro\dded for with sinecure revenues out of the abbey lands. The nobihty engrossed the commissions in the army ; and both the clergy and nobihty, although infinitely the richest bodies in the state, were exempt from taxes. The people were the scapegoats — they were taxed for all ; the burdens of the state were all thrown upon them, whilst its honours and emoluments were monopolised by the untaxed. This was a gross wrong — the revolu- tion swept it away." On another occasion, speaking to M. I'Abbe ]e Grand, a Parisian priest, he said : " In fact, the democratic spirit is more favoiirable to the cause of morality and religion than the monarchical. In a democratic state, where the electoral power belongs to the people, suc- cess in the objects of pubhc ambition necessarily becomes, in a great measure, a question of personal preference. The pubhc at large will rather commit their interests to the keeping of a man whom they beheve io be under the influence of honest moral principle than to a notorious LIFE AND TIMES OF O CONNELL. 63 Jacobitism ; their zeal extended no further than keeping a print of the Pretender in the house. "When the first reUef acts passed, in 1778 and 1782, their speculative Jacobitism melted gradually away, and the beautiful song of ''The Blackbird" ceased to be heard in those halls which, " in foul and fair weather," had so often re-echoed with the witching sweetness of that enchanting melody. At this time the progress of Catholic wealth and Catholic intelligence was remarkable. The limitation of the Catholic mind to one object, the acquisition of wealth, had produced its natural result. It had perfected the art of acquisition. The Catholic was then what the Jew is still. There was no reason why he should not succeed in the same way and as well. His Protestant master became a spendthrift, with the habits of a spendthrift ; the Catholic a miser, with the habits of a miser. But the relaxation of 1778 forced him from that state. He found himself suddenly empowered to pm-chase land. The Catholic became a landed proprietor ; but with the land the privileges which the land gives were withheld. He was in an unnatural state.* O'Connell with his vouni^er brother seems to have remained about a year in St. Omers. The Rev. Dr. Stapylton was at that time president of the college. Requested by the uncle of the boys for a candid opinion of theii* respective merits, the president penned a remarkable prediction which reflects credit on his deep penetration and -will unquestionably live in history. He said that Maurice in point of moral character was an excel- lent lad, but was likely to yield to the fascinations of pleasure, and abandon the thorny paths of intellectual pursuit for the more flowery allm'ements of amusement. vagabond or scoffer at religion. A candidate for public favour in a demo- cratic state would have little or no chance of success if it could be estab- lished that he was a blackleg, a seducer, or in any way notoriously im- moral. But this is not the case in a monarchy. Look at your Louis XIV. Look at the pre-eminently infamous reign of Louis XV. Why, not only was morality of no advantage to the candidate for court favour and patronage, but, in point of fact, it was a positive disadvantage." In conclusion, we may observe that the French revolution was a civil war fought in the streets and decided on the scaffold. In that revolution equahty — in other words, the destruction of hereditary aristocracy — the greatest evil that can distress a people — was the cry, the aim of the French nation ; and equality they not only "won but kept, even under the empire of Napoleon. This fact reconciles what appears incongruous — that attachment to the revolution and to Napoleon which are in the French mind so universal, and to Enghsh prejudices so incompatible. * "Wyse's " Catholic Association." 34 LIFE AND TIMES OF O'CONNELL. *' You desire to have my candid opinion respecting your nephews ; and you very properly remark, that no habit can be Tvorse than that of the instructors of youth, who seek to gratify the parents of those under their care by ascribing to them talents and quahties which they do not really possess. You add that, being only the uncle of these young men, you can afford to hear the real truth respecting their abilities and de- ficiencies. It is not my habit to disguise the precise truth in reply to such inquiries as yours — you shall therefore have my opinion with perfect candom-. " I begin with the younger — Maurice. His manner and demeanour are quite satisfactory. He is gentlemanly in his conduct, and much loved by his fellow- students. He is not deficient in abilities, but he is idle and fond of amusement. I do not think he will answer for any laborious profession ; but I will answer for it, he will never be guilty of anything dis- creditable — at least, such is my firm belief. " With respect to the elder, Daniel, I have but one sentence to write about him — and that is, that I never was so much mistaken in my life as I shall be unless he be destined to make a remarkable figm^e in society." Never was a prediction more fully realised. '* The Bishop of Ai'dagh told me," says O'Neill Daunt, "that a French captain of artillery said to him shortly after the fro is jours de Juillet, * Some of us imagined that yom' O'Connell was born at St. Omers. Ah ! if he had been a native of om* coun- try we should have made him Iving of the French.' " Leaving St. Omers, where he gi'eatly distinguished himself, O'Connell spent some months in Douay College in the year 1792. In that year a bill ivas introduced into the House of Commons which determined his destiny — Catholics in Ii'eland were allowed to become members of the bar. Up to this period a Catholic might have a noble descent, a large property, and an historical name ; but he could not be a counsellor. The title of counsellor marked a distinctive pri- vilege of the Protestant ascendancy, was a grade in itself, a dignity guarded by the laws of the land, and an assurance of personal gentility. Up to the middle of the last centmy, all the liberal professions were closed against the Catholic gentry of Ii'eland : but it was a dignity to belong to the bar — even among Protestants; for the candidate for its honours was obliged to study in London, which at that time was an afiair of no inconsiderable enterprise and effort. " My uncle," said O'Connell, *' kept a diary of a tour he made in England be- LTFI-: AND TIMES OP O'CONNELL. 35 tween the years '70 and '80, and one of his memorabilia was : * This day we have travelled thirty- six miles, and passed through parts of five counties.'" The uncertain sea-voyage and long land journey were attended with a heavy expense, some risk, and considerable labour. Wales being then inaccessible to carriages, that part of the journey was made on hii-ed horses ; and not less than three weeks were occasionally passed in the transit from London to Dublin. To be a counsellor, there- fore, wa? in itself a mark of a certain considerable wealth and respectability. '• Counsellor" is still prefixed as a title of distinction by the people to the names of barristers ; and even the feudal cogno- men of "The O'Connell" lost nothing by the professional dig- nity of counsellor, which the Kerry clients of that gentleman, the ex-subjects of his dynasty, never failetjl to give him. While living in Douay College he often, in cominon with his fellow- students, felt alarm lest, breaking violently in, the revolutionists should put them all to the sword ; but, except on one occasion, never experienced real danger. Even this danger was not very imminent. While walking one day for re(^'eation accompanied by other students, a waggoner of Du- mouriez' army espied them, and roared, '' Voiia les jeunes Jesuites, les Capucins, les recolets" — "See the young Je- suits," &c. The students scampered, heated and Mghtened, into college, but were with that exception entkely unhm-t. For the relaxations of 1792 and the following vear we are o . chiefly indebted to two men — John Keogh and Wolfe Tone. Of the first, O'Connell himself said, " Keogh was undoubtedly useful in his day." The character and intellect of Keogh were eminently and especially fi-amed for the times. The want of political knowledge and of the free circulation of public opinion, the want even of roads or conveyances, debaiTed the Catholics of all chance of a great national junction. The exertions of John Keogh were thus in appearance local, but the results were felt in every portion of the body. He achieved the fii'st great triumph of the CathoHc cause by a series of measures, none of which were distinguished by any pecuhar brilliancy of effect, but so well linked together and so minutely adapted to then- end, that it was impossible to refuse them the praise of consummate addi'ess. His frame of thought and colour of expression, his writing and speaking, were singulai'ly adapted to the object he had in view and the body with which he had to deal.^i' * Wyse's " Catholic Association." 36 LIFE AND TIMES OF o'CONNELL. Of this man we are told : "He was a member of a depnta- tion, consisting altogether of five persons, who had an inter- view with Pitt and Dundas on the subject of the Catholic claims. Pitt asked what would satisfy the Catholics, Keogh replied, ' Equality.' Pitt seemed inclined to comply with the wishes of the deputation, but Dundas started several ob- jections. Pitt then said, ' Would you be satisfied with the bar, the elective franchise, and eligibility to the municipali- ties ?' Keogh replied, * They would be great boons.' Pitt immediately pinned him to that, and would concede no more. Had a lawyer been present," continued O'Connell, " he would have known that eligibility to the municipalities was really worth nothing. They thought it was a great approach to equality."* The revolution of France led to the relaxation of the penal laws, and this in turn caused the foundation of Irish col- leges at home. The foreign colleges and the Irish Brigade no longer invited the youth of Ireland to try their fortunes in France and Flanders. The physical strength of Ireland, which had been formerly frittered away on many armies, was now for the first time fused into that of England, and her Irish recruits poured fresh and irresistible valour through the ranks of her army and her na\7. The colossal growth of the British empire, which now began to assume gigantic propor- tions, was the inevitable result. The foundation of Maynooth College is the epoch from which the real greatness of the British empire dates. Recently beaten in her ignominious struggle with America, she had at that time, external to these islands, only three millions of subjects. She has now a hun- dred millions — and this owing to the accession of irresistible strength which she derives from the junction of Ireland and the relaxation of the penal code. On the 21st of January, 1798, O'Connell quitted Douay to return to Ireland. At that time Louis XVI., with ghastly face and corpulent person, was ascending, with tottering step and vacillating gait, the scafibld of the guillotine, attended by an Irish priest. When the young Irishman reached Calais the alarming intelligence came flying into the town that the Idng and queen had been beheaded. The consternation, amounting to afiright, which this appal- ling news excited cannot well be described. It was the pre- vailing topic of conversation in the packet on which O'Connell embarked. It is alleged that on entering this vessel the future * " I'ersonal Recollections of O'Connell," by O'Neill Daunt. LIFE AND TIMES OF O'CONNELL. 87 demagogue plucked the symbol of the French republic, the tri- color, from his hat, and trampled or threw it into the water. "While the packet was ringing with the babble of the passen- gers denouncing the barbarity of the Parisian regicides, two gentlemen entered. One was tall, the other low. " We were present at the execution," said one of them quietly. ** Good heaven," exclaimed an Englishman in much excitement, " and how did 3^ou get there ?" " We obtained an excellent ^dew of the entire scene by bribing two of the National Guard to lend us their uniforms." '' But in heaven's name how could you endm-e to witness such a hideous spectacle ?" cried the Englishman. The peculiar manner in which the stranger replied made an ineffaceable impression on the mind of O'Connell — gazing on him in astonishment. He said, ''From love of the cause." The strangers were the two Sheareses. In 1794, O'Connell became a law-student in Lincoln's Inn. The futm'e Liberator lodged in a court or cul cle sac on the north side of Coventry-street, London, where he had what he considered excellent accommodation. One day, fifty years subsequently, passing through Coventry-street, he halted before a fishmonger's shop and said to a friend, " That shop is in precisely the same state in which I remember it when I was at Gray's Inn. The same sized window, the same frontage, I believe the same fish." At this early period of his life he was fond of boating on the Thames, an amusement which made considerable inroads on his slender purse. Though biassed against democracy by the godless charac- ter of the revolution, the scenes enacted in London recalled him to democratic principles and enraged him against aristo- cracy. The state prosecution of those distinguished men — Home Tooke, Thelwall, and Hardy, in which justice was perverted and the ruin of thousands contemplated proved that if democracy had its errors, hereditary aristocracy is organised oppression. Present at the trial of those persecuted men, he entered the court a tory but quitted it a radical. His indignation was naturally and inevitably provoked by the un- scrupulous exercise of power and the malignity Pitt exhibited in the trial, and he vowed devotion to those generous princi- ples from which he never afterwards seceded. To use the language of his son John, *' Each successive day revealing more and more the iniquitous nature of the prosecution, the process of change in Mr. O'Connell's mind ended by convert- ing him to popular opinions, and confirming his natural de- testation of tyranny." 38 LIFE AND TDIES OF o'cONNELL. O'Connell, iu 1795, was witness to an event which threatened consequences as disastrous to London as the French revolution to Paris, together with destruction to his own Hfe. Accom- panied by a friend, the young Irishman sauntered one day through St. James's Park with the expectation of witnessing the king's retm-n from the House of Lords. He was not dis- appointed. The carriage, sm'rounded by a noisy, angry, and excited mob, came mo\dng slowly along. Suddenly the glass in the royal window was smashed by some individual m the crowd, who, having read the Bible, " rendered unto Caesar the things that are Caesar's," by flinging a penny at his majsst :. The flashing sabres of the di'agoons were dra^vn immediately, the loud voice of imperative command was ringing above the tumultuous sounds, and the dragoons, clearing their way through the huddled and scrambling multitude with brandished blades and curveting horses, advanced in a gallop in fi'ont of the king's carriage. As the procession approached the place where O'Connell stood he pressed forward to get a sight of the king, when a dragoon made a furious slash at him which deeply notched the tree about an inch or two above his head. Groans, hootings, and hisses filled the air, and the king's life seemed in imminent danger ; however he got rid of his dutiful subjects, and entered St. James's palace, where he took off his robes in a wonderfully short time. He then came out of the opposite side of the palace, next Cleveland-row, and entered a coach drawn by two large black Hanoverian horses. He was subse- quently di'iven towards Buckingham House, and just as he was passing the bottom of the Green Park the mob tumultuously swarmed round the carriage, seized the wheels, and with united strength and homble vociferations prevented their revolution, though the postilions, with desperate cuts, rained showers of blows on the straining and perspiring horses. The mob seemed intent on tearing the king to pieces. Two fellows at this moment approached the carriage — the hand of one was on the door-handle in the act of opening it. Had the door opened they would doubtless have dragged the king headlong out and murdered him on the spot. At this critical juncture a tall determined-looking man thrust a pistol through the opposite window at the fellows who were going to open the door ; they shrank back, the mob relaxed their grasp on the wheels, the postilions flogged their horses, and the carriage went ofl' at a gallop to Buckingham House. Never had king a more nar- row escape. It was a terrible scene. =^ * " Personal llecollections of O'Connell." by O'Neill Dnunt. LIFE AND TIMES OF O'CONNELL. 39 *'I am now only four miles from town," writes O'Connell in 1795, to Mamdce O'Connell, Esq., of Darrynane; " I pay the same price for board and lodging as I should in London ; but I enjoy many advantages here (in Chisvdck) besides air and retirement. The society in the house is mixed — I mean composed of men and women, all of whom are people of rank and knowledge of the world ; so their conversation and man- ners are perfectly well adapted to rub off the rust of scholastic education ; nor is there any danger of riot or dissipation, as they are all advanced in life — another student of law and I being the only young persons in the house. This young man is my most intimate acquaintance, and the only fiiend I have fouud among my acquaintance. His name is Bennett. He is an Irishman of good family connexions and fortune. He is prudent and strictly economical. He has good sense, ability, and application. I knew him before my journey to Ireland. It was before that period our friendship commenced. So that on the whole I spend my time here not only pleasantly, but I hope very usefully. " The only law-books I have bought as yet are the works of Espinasse on the trials of nisi prius. They cost me £1 10s. ; and contain more information on the practical part of the law than any other books I have ever met. When in Dublin I reflected that carrying any more books than were absolutely necessary would be incurring expense, so I deferred buying a complete set of reports until my return thither. " I have now two objects to pursue — the one, the attainment of knowledge ; the other, the acquisition of those qualities which constitute the polite gentleman. I am convinced that the former, besides the immediate pleasm-e that it yields, is calculated to raise me to honours, rank, and fortune ; and I know that the latter serves as a general passport : and as for the motives of ambition which you suggest, I assure you that no man can possess more of it than I do. I have indeed a glowing and — if I may use the expression — an enthusiastic ambition, which converts every toil into a pleasure and every study into an amusement. " Though nature may have given me subordinate talents, I never will be satisfied with a subordinate situation in my pro- fession. No man is able, I am aware, to supply the total deficiency of ability, but evei'ybody is capable of improving and enlarging a stock however small and, in its beginning, con- temptible. It is this reflection that afibrds me consolation. If I do not rise at the bar, I will not have to meet the re- 40 LIFE AND TniES OF o'CONNELL. proaches of my own conscience. It is not because I assert these things now that I should conceive myself entitled to call on you to believe them. I refer that conviction which I wish to inspire to your experience. I hope — nay, I flatter myself, that when we meet again the success of my efiforts to correct those bad habits which you pointed out to me will be appa- rent. Indeed, as for my knowledge in the professional line, that cannot be discovered for some years to come ; but I have time in the interim to prepare myself to appear with great eclat on the grand theatre of the world." While O'Connell was quietly pursuing his studies in his tranquil retreat in Chiswick, a dark and murderous institution arose in Ireland, which has had on the destinies of our coun- try an effect of a most fatal character. This was the Orange Society. The Protestants and Catholics came into deadly col- lision at a village named " The Diamond," on the 27th Sep- tember, 1795. Forty Catholics were killed in this engage- ment. Exulting in a victory which reflected credit on their organisation — as the Catholics were more numerous — the hot, thirsty, and excited conquerors, in the mad -delirium of unex- pected triumph, glorying in their murderous success and red with blood, vowed with fierce vociferations to call themselves thenceforth " Orangemen," in honom' of William III., Prince of Orange. A ballad was composed in commemoration of this \dctory, which was long popular amongst the Ulster linen-weavers, and from which we make an extract to show the dreadful and dia- bolical spirit of the men with whom O'Connell was ere long to struggle : " The Battle of the Diamond ! round, loyal, let it pass, We'll drink it with a glowing soul and from a ruby glass ; Full let the rich red wine pour forth its fountain and its floo'I, In token that the loyal won that battle with their blood. " The Battle of the Diamond ! — far let the watchword fly — Where craven Popish rebels crouched upon the eaiih to die, Slain by devoted men and true who fought with heart and blade, And slaughtered in their ambush vile by swords they had betrayed." The original object and obligation of the Orangemen was to exterminate the Catholics of Ireland. " I do swear," they said, "that I will be true to king and country, and that I will exterminate the Catholics of Ireland as far as in my power lies." O'Connell was in Dublin in 1797. The politicians of tlie city at that time were accustomed to meet at a tavern in LIFE AND TIMES OP o'CONNELL. 41 Eustace- street. O'Ccnnell, not yet called to the bar, some- times attended those meetings, but took no paii; in the proceed- ings as he was not then p. lawyer. Had he, with his warm Catholic feeling, taken a prominent part, he should have been in all probability hanged. He learned much by merely con- templating the pohtical game. ''I had," said O'Connell, " many good opportunities of acquiring valuable information upon which I very soon formed my own judgment. It was a terrible time. The political leaders of the period could not conceive such a thing as a perfectly open and above-boai'd po- litical machinery. My tiiend, Richard Newton Bennett, was an adjunct to the Du'ectory of United Irishmen. I was myself a United Irishman. As I saw how matters worked I soon learned to have no secrets in politics." Passing thi'ough Grafton -street one day about this period, O'Connell's attention was caught by the dapper person, keen black eyes, and gentlemanly neatness of a passenger. He ran after him, stopped before him, and gazed at lum long and fixedly. This was Lord Edward Fitzgerald. At that time the Directory to which O'Connell aUudes was engaged in a correspondence with the republican rulers of France, and the Irish agents in the French metropolis were urging their claims to assistance with earnest zeal and con- summate ability. The gifted men who held the reins of power acted with that energ}^, order, skill, and promptitude which republican France seemed tc inherit from ancient Rome. Great preparations were made — annies were organised and fleets fitted out to aid the oppressed Irish in breaking then- galling yoke. But divine Pro\'idence disposed it otherwise. Unfore- seen events, which no human wisdom could counteract, frus- trated the wise and beneficent efibrts of the illustrious rulers. A raging tempest dispersed the fleet or expedition, and Ire- land (as steam was not then utilised) escaped by a miracle. Despairing of further aid from France, thi'own entirely upon their own resources, the Directory determined to organise Ireland for a general rebellion. The organisation of Leinster and Munster had been partially efiected, that of Connaught not even attempted. Though to men like the members of the Directory — sly but bold, subtle but daring — this seemed a judicious course, fatal delay was the inevitable consequence. The Irish aristocracy, meantime, had leism-e to ferret, with Satanic eunnino, into the secret tortuosities of the dark con- spiracy, and thus obtained by the foulest instrumentality complete knowledge of its hidden ramifications. The awful 42 LIFE AND TIMES OP O'CONNELL. resolution was secretly taken, "which men with a scintilla of morality would have shrmik from in horror, to goad the south to madness and force it by unheard-of cruelties to burst unprepared into prematiure resistance. They determined to create the rebellion, and then trampling it under foot, drown it in the blood and amid the cries of the rebels. Wexford was the first to break out, and the whole island was more or less afflicted by the horrible consequences. Almost every portion of the desolated country was swept by the fatal wind or deluged by the gloomy rain which burst from this tempest. Every one suffered. The destruction of seventy thousand citizens, and the waste of eighteen milhons of public money, attested the severity of a struggle which lasted only eight months. O'Connell in the spring of 1798 was called to the bar. He entered the "Lawyers' Yeomamy Corps" immediately after- wards. This corps contained many United Irishmen, and he felt apprehensive lest some of the black crawlers, then prowling about in every direction in search of human prey, should pouncG upon and implicate him in treasonable proceedings. He accordingly quitted Dublin in the June of 1798. O'Comiell's voyage to the south was attended with more amusement than dignity, as it was performed in a potato boat. Owing to the disturbed state of the country, in which the rebellion was then raging, an overland journey was impossible. The voyage cost him half a guinea, and was accomplished in thirty-six hours. He landed at Cove, whence he proceeded to Kerry. The pleasure and hilarity with which he once more trod those breezy heights and picturesque scenes he passed his boyhood in, may be easily conceived. He himself delineates tho^s scenes in a letter to Walter Savage Landor : '* Little do you imagine how many persons besides myself have been delighted with the poetic imaginings which inspired these lines on one of the wonders of my infancy — the varying sounds emitted by marine shells : * Shake one and it awakens : then apply Its pohshed lips to your attentive ear, And it remembers its august abodes, And mmiuurs as the ocean murmurs there.' " Would that I had you here to show you their august abode in its most awful beauty. I could show you at noon- tide, when the stern south-wester had blown long and rudely, the mountain waves come tumbling in from the illimitable ocean in maje^ic succession, expending their gigantic foim and throwing up stupendous masses of foam against the more LIFE AND TIMES OF O'CONNELL. 43 gigantic and more stupendous, mountain -clifls, that fence not only this my native spot, but form that eternal barrier which prevents the -wild Atlantic from submerging the cultivated plains and high-steepled villages of proud Britain itself. Or were you with me amidst the Alpine sceneiy that smTounds my humble abode, listening to the eternal roar of the mountain torrent, as it bounds through the rocky defiles of my native glens, I would venture to tell you how I was bom within the sound of the everlasting wave, and how my di'eamy boyhood dwelt upon imaginary intercom'se with those who are dead of yore, and fed its fond fancies upon the ancient and long-faded glories of that land which preserved literature and Christianity, when the rest of now civilized Europe was shrouded in darkness." Owing to an absorbing passion for field-sports he was one day, while residing at Carhen, exposed for several hours to a heavy fall of di-enching rain. Satm^ated with wet, but heedless of the consequences, he entered the rude hovel of a peasant, sat down by the fire, drank three glasses of whiskey, and fell asleep. This sleep proved well nigh fatal to O'Connell ; he moped and wandered about dejectedly for a fortnight in a state of dismal gloom and discomfort. Deep seated disease was preying on his system, which he was obliged to yield to and take to his bed. He w^as pronounced, by the medical man who attended the family, in a high fever. Groaning on his pallet, O'Connell, from the pain he experienced, desired to die. A burning forest, flaming in wide-spread conflagration, seemed to wave round him in appalling brilliancy, as urged forward by some uncontrollable impulse he plodded, he fancied, through a wood of fire. He was delirious. With returning lucidity he became conscious of a growing rigidity of the spine, which alai-med him exceedingly, as he deemed it the harbinger of death. He made a powerful efibi-t to resist the icy touch, and rising with great difiiculty from his pallet, ghastly and thin, he comdnced his father in a weak voice that he recognised him. In after life he attributed his recovery to that powerful efibrt. The well known lines of Douglas were at this time often on his hps : " Unknown I die ; no tongue shall speak of me ; Some noble spirits, judging by themselves, May yet conjectm-e what I might have proved, , And think life only wanting to my fame." " Long before that period," said O'Connell, speaking to O'Neill Daunt, ''when I was seven years old — yes indeed as long as I recollect — I felt a presentiment that I should write 44 LIFE AND TIMES OF o'CONNELL. my name on the page of history. I hated Saxon domyiation. I detested the t^-Tants of Ireland." During his illness he was informed by his medical attendant, among other gossip of the day, that Napoleon, at the head of his army, had marched successfully across the wilderness and reached Alexandiia. " That is impossible," said the patient; "he cannot have done so — they would have been starved." **0h, no," replied the doctor; "they had a quantity of port- able soup, sufficient to feed the army for fom-days." " Aye," replied O'Connell, " but had they portable water ? For their portable soup would be little use without the water to dissolve it." The medical gentleman, glancing hopefully at the mother, said in a low and satisfied tone, " His intellect at any rate is untouched." The jovial hospitality of those times made itself manifest in extravagant customs. The liberal host was never satisfied unless he saw his guests under the table, dead drunk. The person who first in Iveragh refused to get di'unk against his own will was Daniel O'Connell. On his retm-n from the temple he introduced the fashion of retiring early, and soon had many abettors. Fortunately for himself he was in his youth unable to drink three glasses of wine without becoming unwell, and his tendency to temperance was aided by his personal conve- nience. He was the first who insisted that the door should not be locked during occasions of conviviality. On such occasions O'Connell loved to preside at a side table at Derrynane.* A tall, gaunt, why, raw-boned man with splay feet and one shoulder higher than the other, was one day seated at the same table with the future Liberator. This tall, ugly man, whose ill made figm'e was in the last degree awkward and ungainly, was named Kane — "Cousin Kane," as he was universally termed. He was a great advocate of old Irish cus- toms, and pursued with fidelity and perseverance the old mode of living termed "coshering." He lived from house to house, and kept two horses and twelve couple of dogs at other people's * O'Connell was of opinion, according to O'Neill Daunt, that the word Darrynane is derived fi-om two Irish words — Darragh, oaks, and Inane, ivy — " the I\ded Oaks." In that case, however, Darrynane would be written t5Airi-^n-A]5nein, and pronounced in all probability, Barryana- nean, not Darrynane. A more probable etjinology is iDAin-An-Aen, " the sohtary oak forest" — a name which, if the district produced no other forest of that description of timber, would be perfectly appUcable. t5A]n- AH-ein, "the oak wood of the bu-d," is not an impossible derivation, and some extraordinary and mystic bird may have haunted the wood in an- cient times, and given rise to this romantic appellation. LIFE AND TIMES OF o'CONNELL. 46 expense — a mode of keeping domestic animals which he pre- ferred to all others owing to its marked economy. Kane was the younger son of a good family, bat did not confine his atten- tions exclusively to his own immediate relations. He claimed kindred everywhere, and as his descent was respectable he generally " had his claim allowed." He was at once pious and profane, and mingled prayers and curses in a very startling manner — beginning with an ejaculation of sincere piety and ending with an oath of thundering sound. Kane was rather harsh in his manners, and somewhat quan-elsome in his dispo- sition, as may be inferred fi'om the fact that on one occasion, in the assizes of Tralee, seventy-six actions for assault and battery were pending against him. Seated at the same table with the subject of our biography, " Cousin Kane" called for a glass of sheiTy. It so happened that a decanter of whiskey stood before Daniel, and the latter thinking it was sherry, which it exactly resembled in colour, filled " Cousin Kane's" glass. Kane drank it ofi" immediately, but became fui'iojisly exasperated on discovering it was whiskey. He scolded the blushing youth, who had generously treated him to "mountain dew," with ferocious rage, concluding his vitu- peration by roaring in a tone of thunder, " Fill it again, sir !" On the following morning, Kane got up at two o'clock and wakened O'Connell by his noise. " What are you about ?" said young O'Connell, "the clock has only struck two." " Do you think I am to be a slave to that Ijnng devil of a clock ye have there ?" raved Kane. " Do you think a gen- tleman like me is to be ruled and governed by a blackguard of a clock like that — eh ? For what would I stay in bed if it struck twenty-two when I cannot sleep ?" The time was now come when revelry and pleasm-e were to give place to stern duties and arduous toils ; O'Connell was to forsake the joyous scenes of his youth for those of his labours and honours. It was a fine sunny morning; the whole face of nature beamed with a smiling and golden serenity as young O'Con- nell — his massive, ruddy, and inteUigent face lighted up by hope — rode out of Carhen to proceed on his fii'st cu'cuit. His brother John jogged along beside him, and the two young men chatted cheerfully as they proceeded— the one to follow the hounds, the other to follow the toilsome drudgery of an arduous profession. When the brothers separated, the "counsellor" stood still and gazed long and wistfully after the retiring figure of his brother vanishing amid the hills. He longed to 46 LIFE AND TIMES OF o'CONNELL. enjoy the breezy slopes, the jocund cry, the roaring pleasures of the chase which his brother was about to share, but from which he was now to be debarred. On the disappearance of his brother, Daniel felt extremely melancholy ; he remained for several minutes stock still, overwhelmed with dejection, pained in mind and sad of heart, then wheeling his horse he rallied his drooping spirits and proceeded musingly on his way. Having quitted home at four, he reached Tralee at half-past twelve. In that town he got some refreshment, remounted his beast, and pushed on to Listowel. Forced by a shower of rain to take shelter under a bridge, he got into conversation with a gentleman named Robert Hickson who chanced "to seek shelter in the same place. While the rain continued falling the following dialogue took place: "Pray, where are you going ?" *' I am going to Tarbert." "You are very late." " No ! I am rather early. I have been up since four o'clock." " Why, where do you come from ?" " From Carhen." Amazed at the distance, which was nearly fifty miles, Hick- son expressed his warm approval of O'Connell's activity. " You'll do, young gentleman," said he, "you'll do." At five o'clock in the evening O'Connell was seen riding into Tarbert, having travelled sixty Irish miles during the day. Unacquainted -with a single individual in Tarbert, and finding no books at the inn, his spirits sank at the dismal prospect of spending a lonely and melancholy evening in that dreary place. Luckily at this juncture a gentleman entered, whom O'Connell with delight recognised as an old friend. After some conver- sation — " I am going to a ball," said Ralph Marshall — for such was his name — " will you accompany me ?" " Why," said O'Connell, " I have ridden sixty miles." "Oh! you don't seem in the least tired," said Marshall, " so come along." Sallying out with his friend, O'Connell proceeded to the ball where, in spite of his previous fatigue, he remained dan- cing until two o'clock. In the course of this circuit he received a brief from an attorney named James Connor. It so happened that the task of cross-examining one of the witnesses was thrown by the opposite counsel on young Daniel. Though this was his first LIFE A2^T> TIMES OF O'CONKELL. 47 attempt at cross-examination, our yomig barrister did not shrink from the difficult task, nor did he, like some juniors whom we could mention, hand over the cross-examination to his senior. The witness under this cross-examination con- fessed that a pint of whiskey had been called for, and — he had taken his share of the pint. "What quantity did you drink — how much was your share ?" asked O'Connell. " 'Twas a good sup," answered the witness. " On the virtue of yom* oath, did not your share consist of all except the pewter ? The -fatness was silent for a few minutes, but fmally mut- tered, 'at did." ' O'Connell's peculiar mode of shaping the question elicited a loud and hearty laugh from the court. A veteran barrister, named Jeremiah Keller, congratulated the future ''Liberator"' on his debut, and assured him that he might confidently reckon on the most distinguished success. O'Connell in his first circuit visited Limerick, Cork, and Tralee. Occupying a chaise in common with Hany Deane Grady, he posted from Cork to Dublin. In 1799 broken bands of fierce outlaws — the relics of the rebellion — still Im-ked, fire- lock in hand, in the Kil worth mountains, through which our travellers had to pass. The natm-e of the road added to the difficulty of traversing these mountains. Li one place a deep ravine or glen was spanned by a narrow causeway, entirely un- selvaged by guard walls, over which it was necessary to pass, and from which they might be readily precipitated into des- truction by the slightest deviation fr-om the narrow bridge. While spending the night at Feimoy inn, which was crowded to repletion by the judges and their attendants, four dragoons came clattering into the tap-room, one of whom was a corporal.. This circumstance reminded our ti'avellers of the robbers lurk- ing in the glens before them, and the necessity of giving the knaves a warm reception. Addressing the corporal, Grady said : " Soldier, wiM you sell me some powder and ball?" " Sir, I don't sell powder,"' replied the corporal, who in his own opinion was no soldier. "Will you then have the goodness to buy me some?" said Grady ; " in these unsettled times the dealers in the article are reluctant to sell it to strangers like us." " Sir," replied the corporal, "I am no man's messqnger but the king's — go youi'self. 48 LIFE AN'D TIMES OF O'CONNELL. " Grady," said O'Connell in a low tone, " you have made a great mistake. Did you not see by the mai'k on his sleeve that the man is a corporal ? You mortified his pride in calling him a soldier, especially before his own men, amongst whom he doubtless plays the officer." Having suffered a few minutes to elapse, O'Connell entered into conversation with the dragoon : "Did you ever see such rain as we had to-day, sergeant? I was very glad to find that the regulars had not the trouble of escorting the judges. It was very suitable work for those awkward yeomen." '' Yes indeed, sir," returned the corporal, evidently flattered at being mistaken for a sergeant, "we were very lucky in escaping those torrents of rain." "Perhaps, sergeant, you will have the kindness," continued Dan, "to buy me some powder and ball in town. We are to pass the I^ilworth mountains, and shall want ammunition. You can of course find no difficulty in buying it ; but it is not to every one they sell these matters." "Sir," said the corporal, "I shall have great pleasure in requesting your acceptance of a small supply of powder and ball. My balls will, I think, just fit your pistols. You'll stand in need of ammunition, for there are some of those out-lying rebelly rascals on the mountains." "Dan," said Grady in a low tone, "you'll go through the world successfully. That I can easily foresee." They had no opportunity of displaying their courage or burning their powder in the mountains of Kilworth. They rolled along without suffering attack, and reached Dublin on the third daj^ without meeting a single adventure. During his fii'st year at the bar O'Connell received £58; during the second, £150 ; dm-ing the third year, £200 ; the fourth year produced him £300 guineas. He was not many months at his profession when he ob- tained an acquittal for a client whose gi-atitude gi'eatly amused him. "I have no way here to show your honom' my gi'atitude, but I wish to God I saw you knocked down in my own parish, and may be I wouldn't bring a ^tion to rescue you. Whoop ! Long life to your honour !" Two questions of vast importance in 1799 agitated and dis- tressed the public mind of Ireland. One was the Veto, the other the Union. The object of the Veto was to transfer from the sovereign Pontiff of Kome to the Protestant monarch of England the power of naminsr Catholic bishops in Ireland. Ln^E AND TniES OF O'CONNELL. 49 Much as O'Connell may have wavered about the Veto, he seems to have felt the absurdity it involves profoundly when he said : " Do you know it has often amused me to think how the fable of Pope Joan, which was invented at oui' expense by some of the Reformed, has frequently been realised in the Anglican Chui'ch. The head of your Church is now for the fourth time a woman. I understand it was recently proposed that there should be an ecclesiastical regency during the occa- sional accouchements of the head of the Protestant Church, and that the Archbishop of Canterbury, pending those interest- ing intervals, should be invested with temporary functions of supremacy."* The Archbishop of Canterbury, invested during the queen's illness with the power of vetoing Catholic bishops, would not, we may rest assured, sufifer a single honest prelate to be ap- pointed in our Church. It is the misfortune of every monarch outside the pale of the Catholic Church to be at once a king and a clergyman, a monarch and a missioner, a temporal prince and a spiritual pontiff. He wields two sceptres, and while flourishing the sword with one hand, brandishes the crozier with the other. This is a misfortune, because the state cannot exercise power in a proper manner over sphitual things. Bm-ke said that the government of England invested with the Veto would imitate the seraglio of Constantinople, which makes the miserable dignities of the Greek Church subservient to the factions of the harem. Those dignities are exposed to ridicule and laughter, and made the subject of sale. '^ The continual sale to which they expose and re-expose the same dignity," said Burke, ** and by which they squeeze all the inferior orders of the clergy, is nearly equal to all the other oppressions together exercised by Mussulmen over the unhappy members of the Oriental Chui'ch." As to the Veto, it seems quite certain that the origin of the measui-e should be ascribed to the board of EngHsh CathoHcs. In theu' anxiety for immediate admission into the pale of the constitution they attempted, in 1791, to make their Chm-ch independent of the Holy See, and adopted as their designation the name of Catholic Dissenters. As Plowden says: "The views of the English Catholics went far beyond those of the vetoists of Ireland — namely, to shake off their dependence upon the See of Rome, and establish national bishops not drawing theii' jurisdiction from the Chiistian primate ; and this * " Personal Recollections of O'Connell." 3 50 LIFE AKD TI3IES OF o'CONNELL. in accordance with the Jansenistical doctrines of Utrecht, and in the manner of the reformed EngUsh bishops fi'om the time of Henry VIII. dovm wards." The absurd views of the English Catholics were seized by Sir John Cox Hippesley, who matured them into the project of the Veto — a project which was adopted by Mr. Pitt, who attempted to make it part of his arrangements for Ireland. Through the agency of Lord Castlereagh, Mr. Pitt induced the Irish bishops to acquiesce in the proposition and sign the resolution of 1799, which has been so much discussed, viz., " That in the appoint- ment of the prelates of the Koman Catholic religion to vacant sees within the kingdom, such interference of government as may enable it to be satisfied with the loyalty of the person appointed is just, and ought to be agreed to." This was a most questionable resolution, which tended in the most sejious manner to compromise the liberty of the Catholic Church. Religious liberty consists in the power of the clergy to conduct ecclesiastical affairs in an ecclesiastical manner, to shut out from the internal arrangements of the Church the interference of intermeddling laymen. This power would unquestionably be compromised by the concession in question, which gave to a hostile aristocracy a perilous pretext ibr canvassing the cha- racter and merits of ecclesiastical dignitaries, and prohibiting the elevation of ecclesiastics if they were not supple instru- ments of oppression. The lord lieutenant, unable to form an idea of their merits, could not discern which of the clergy was fit to be a bishop. He should hand them over to the lord-lieutenants of counties, justices of peace, and other per- sons, who for the purpose of vexing and turning into derision our miserable people, would pick out the most obnoxious they could find, to preside over the rest. At this time, however, the Catholics were under the erro- neous impression that by assenting to the Veto and acquiesc- ing in the Union they increased their chances of obtaining Emancipation. So excessive had been theu' sufferings from the Irish Protestants, that the Cathohcs, writhing under torture, lent a willing ear to representations which the hypocritical aris- tocracy never contemplated realising. Not satisfied with swindling — the aristocracy combined 5*aud which was loathsome, vrith cruelty which was satanic. They earned the Union, not only by cajoling the Catholics but by stifling public opinion, forcibly suppressing public meetings, annihilating all protection of liberty; by armed violence, trials by court-martial, and the familiar use of tor- LIFE AND TBIES OF o'CONNELL. 51 tore. The Habeas Corpus Act was suspended while the Union was under discussion, in order to produce by terror a mute acquiescence in a measure which was ruinous. Unlimited power was vested in courts-martial, and no man for a single hour was sure of his limbs, his liberty, or his life. No rule of evidence or definite form of charge bound those irresponsi- ble courts, which threatened with death all who dared to resist the spohation of their birth-right. The persons of the king's Irish subjects were exposed to the caprice of the king's minis- ter, and for the most cruel and tyrannical imprisonment no redress could be obtained by a native of Ireland. A motley rabble-rout of English militia, Scotch fencibles, and Irish yeo- manry, formidable to every one but the enemy, were masters of the lives and liberties of the people. In short, this act of I'obbery was perpetrated by the British minister when the gaols were crammed with wretches unaccused of offence — and the scaffolds crimson with the blood of victims untried for crime. Plunket expressed himself on the subject of the Union in the following words : " I will be bold to say that licentious and impious France, in all the unrestrained excesses that anarchy and atheism have given bii-th to, has not committed a more insidious act against her enemy than is now attempted by the professed champion of civilised Europe against Ireland — a friend and ally in the hour of her calamity and distress. At a moment when our country is filled with British troops — whilst the Habeas Corpus Act is suspended — whilst trials by court-martial are carrying on in many parts of the kingdom — whilst the people are made to believe that they have no right to meet or deliberate, and whilst they are palsied by their fears — at the moment when we are distracted by internal dis- sensions — dissensions kept alive as the pretext of our present subjugation and the instrument of our thraldom — such is the time in which the Union is proposed."* Among the atrocities which contributed to carry the Union the following is not undeserving of attention. Lord Com- waUis issued an order, authorising any man in a mihtary capa- city to kill any other man whom he might suspect of rebellious practices I This bloody ordinance had the natural effect of causing thousands to be butchered with brutal ferocity. One afternoon in 1798 a yeoman belonging to Hudson's corps stationed in Bray in the county Wicklow, presented himseli^ * To facilitate the Union, the government intended to awe the IrisU by means of Russian troops. — Vide Correspondence of Castlereagfii 52 LIFE AND TKIES OF O'CONXELL. at the lodge which stood at the entrance of Mrs. La Tonche's grounds, and which was kept by a poor woman named Deiany. *'I want to see your son," cxchdmed the yeoman. *' My boy," replied the widow, *' is lying down in fever, sir, these ten days, from which I am afraid he will never rise." " Oh ! that excuse," said the yeoman, " will not impose on me. Let me see him this moment." " Well, sir, please to step down to the room." *' No, I will not," was the answer ; '' he must come here." The terrifiad mother went to her boy, raised him from the bed, and sustained him languid and drooping to the outer room. The yeoman when he saw him, drew a pistol from his breast and sho+ him dead — upon the bosom of his widowed parent, crying, "Take that you b y Papist rebel, and be d d." A gentleman, remarkable for patriotism, wrote a note to Mrs. La Touche -svhich was published in the Dublin Evening Post, calling upon her to demand satisfaction for this foul assassination. Coerced by this public addi-ess, Mrs. La Touche obtained an audience of Lord Cornwallis, who, at her solicita- tion ordered a coui-t-martial to sit on the case. The president of the coui't-martial was Lord Enniskillen : The fact of the murder was satisfa<;torily proved, and the yeoman was called on for his defence. He simply produced the general order sanctioned by Lord Cornwallis, held it up and said, "I am a loyal Protestant yeoman of Captain Hudson's corps, and I swear I suspected Deiany of rebellious principles." The court, without deliberation, acquitted the Protestant yeoman of the murder of the Papist — and Hoollahan, for such was his name, walked forth in triumph !* The friends of the La Touche family canvassed this trial, if so the process can be called, very loudly. It reached the ears of Lord Cornwallis, who professed to have never heard of the general order on which the yeoman had acted (he cer- tainly ought to have heard of it), and with some show of anger his lordship had it notified, " that no officer on that court- martial should in futm-e sit on any other court-martial." Lord Enniskillen, exasperated at this reproof, retired from Dublin, growling and swearing in his rage to give every possible opposition to the measm-e which Lord Cornwallis had come to Ireland to eflfect — the Legislative Union of the two kingdoms. Lord Cornwalhs wag alarmed at this cu'cumstance. He had * Vide ** Caotain Rock's Letter to the King;.* LIFE AND TDIES Or o'CONNELL. 53 hoped by his soldierly bearing and plansive manners to cajole the gentry, while his bayonets coerced the vulgar with yio- lence and bloodshed, into acquiescence in the Union. He was annoyed that Lord Enniskillen, who had one vote in the Lords and two in the Lower House, should thi'ow his heavy weight into the scale of the oppositionists. Cole is the family name of Lord Enniskillen. The first of the Coles who came to Ireland was the son of a pack-saddle- maker in East Grinstead, Sussex. The fellow enhsted as ^ common soldier, and became in process of time military exe- cutioner or provost-marshal in this country. Owing to his rigorous cruelty to the native L-ish, the maker of pack-saddles received the honour of knighthood. He also obtained a large booty in the shape of Irish land from which the true owners had been swept away, and on which the boroughs were situ- ated that gave Lord Enniskillen the three votes which alarmed Lord Cornwallis. To mitigate his anger Lord Cornwallis waited on the sulky peer in his country seat, and, by means which the dispensers of patronage so thoroughly understand, converted the mutinous lord into a staunch supporter of the Legislative Union : "Blest paper credit ! last and best supply, That lends corruption lighter wings to fly, Gold imp'd by thee can compass hardest tilings, Can pocket states — can fetch or carry kings. A leaf, like sybil's, scatters to and fro Our fates and fortunes as the winds may blow; A single leaf shall waft an army o'er, Or ship off senates to a distant sliore." At that time all classes in Ireland were distressed and dis- tracted by conflicting passions and jarring apprehensions. — The loyalists were distracted by the embers of the rebellion, which, though torrents of blood had been poured on them, seemed to then* scared imaginations burning under theu" feet. The insm'gents were distracted between the hopes of mercy and the fear of punishment. The Cathohes, anxious to maintain the legislative independence of their country, were befooled by the viceroy with delusive hopes of emancipation — whilst the Protestants were inspired with equal certainty of maintain- ing their ascendancy ; and every encouragement was held out to the dissenters, especially the Presbyterians of Ulster en- gaged in the linen manufacture. All classes were distracted by hopes and fears. Lord Cornwallis and Lord Castlereagh seemed to have been created to be " architects of ruin." Both were cha- racterized by unremitting perseverance, aji absence of all poli- 54 LIFE AND TIMES OF O'CONNELL. tical compunction, a disregard of every constitutional principle, and an unqualified contempt for public opinion — without which they could not have carried a measure so unpopular as the Union. Against this pernicious measure, O'Connell delivered his first speech. Before the meeting could be held at which he spoke, the Catholics found it necessary to ask his excellency's permis- sion to meet — a permission which was graciously conceded, because the viceroy knew that the meeting must be fruitless. The Royal Exchange w\as the scene, and Philpot Curran drew up the resolutions. The chair was taken by an excellent citizen named Ambrose Moore. While they were debating. Major Sirr entered the hall at the head of a body of yeomanry who grounded arms wath a heavy clash on the stone pavement. ** Let me see the resolutions," said Major Sirr. *' Here they ai'e," said the chairman. Major Sirr read them wdth apparent attention. Then jerk- ing them on the table said, " There is nohann in them." And wheeling round, he quitted the place followed by his yeomanry. ]\Ir. O'Connell's speech was a summary of the reasons which induced the Catholics to hold this meeting. He said the question of the Union was of vast importance, and the Irish- man must be degraded w4io regarded it with apathy. He should not therefore apologise for introducing its discussion. To the Catholics it appeared unjust, illiberal, and impolitic to separate themselves from the main body of their fellow- countrymen on a question so important. They could not sub- mit to the disgi'aceful imputation of approving a measure as detestable to them as it was ruinous to their country. There- fore they came forward as a distinct body to oppose the Union. It had been stated that Catholics were favourable to the Union : they were bound to prove that they were not. It w^as said that they were willing to sell their country for a price. That calumny was flung on the whole body — the whole body should contradict it. If their emancipation were offered in exchange for their consent, they would reject it with prompt indignation (applause). "Let us," said he, ''show Ireland we have nothing in view but her good — nothing but mutual forgiveness in our hearts. Let ever}^ man w^ho feels with me proclaim, that were the alternative offered him of the Legislative Union or the re-enactment of the penal code, he would prefer the latter as the lesser evil." He would rather confide in the justice of Lish Protestants than lay his country at the feet of foreigners (applause). " If any man be so de- LIFE AND TIMES OF O'CONNELL. 55 graded as to consent to the extinction of the name and the liberty of Ireland, I would at least call on him not to leave to strangers whom he could not control the direction and management of his commerce and property." O'Connell then concluded by mO\dng the resolutions, which being seconded and passed, the meeting dissolved. His appearance on the occasion was dignified and prepos- sessing ; his frame muscular, strongly knit, and active ; and his face extremely comely, the features being softly mellowed, yet determinedly manly. His fine countenance, which beamed with national intelligence, had an expression of open frank- ness, accessibility, and inviting confidence, and showed nothing of that wily malignity imputed to him in after times by the tories. The hateful imputation was at once repelled by his bright and amiable blue eyes, the most kindly and honest-look- ing that can be conceived. In delivering this speech, which was the text-book of his after life, O'Connell's face glowed with diffidence and his ears tingled at the sound of his o^vn voice, but he gi'adually re- covered as he went on. O'Connell in after times proved, by an amusing line of argument, that he possessed modesty. He said, " AVhatever my original amount of that article may have been, I certainly never have worn any of it out by too frequent use, so that I have the whole original stock quite ready for service." On the occasion of his first speech he certainly ex- hibited a large amount of embarrassment and modesty. The part taken by O'Connell in this meeting was rather displeasing to the members of his family, particularly his uncle Maurice, who regarded politics as a dangerous sea which his nephew was ill qualified to navigate. Maurice did not approve of the Union, but he considered it too wide and peri- lous a question for his nephew, who should, he thought, re- strict his efforts to some matter more du-ectly concerning the Catholics. In making the preceding speech, as indeed in all his forensic efibrts, the model O'Connell kept before him seems to have been Pitt. " He struck me," said O'Connell, *' as having the most majestic flow of language and the finest voice imaginable. He managed his voice admirably. It was from him I learned to throw, out the lower tones at the close of my sentences. Most men either let their voice fall at the end of their sen- tences, or else force it into a shout or screech. This is be- cause they end -with the upper instead of the lower notes. Pitt knew better. He threw his voice so completely round 56 LIFE AND TIMES OF o'CONNELL. the House that every syllable he uttered was distinctly heard by every man in the House." Among the men who excited the indignation of O'Connell at this time, by his efforts to ruin the country and carry the Union, we may reckon Lord Clare. The father of this un- principled adventurer was an apostate priest, whose first appearance on the stage of noticeable affaii'S was in the shape of a ragged stripling without shoes or stockings, who was discovered by an Irish gentleman, squatting near the kitchen fire of an inn, within a few miles of St. Alban's in England. The Irish gentleman, who had not witnessed such a mass of rags since he quitted Ireland, inquired to what part of the country he belonged, on which the lad croaked out, " Plaze your honour, I am a poor gossoon out of the county Limbrick in Ireland. My father, Tom Gibbings, did die, your honour ; and my mammy did go for to marry that thief, Terry Lochlin, and it's what he turned me out, your honour. Isn't he laboui-er to Mr. O'Bell at the Grove ? But myself got a little Latin afore that, and it's begging my way I am to St. Omer's in foreign parts, in hopes to be a priest an' plaze your honour." ''We are countrymen, my boy," said the gentleman; "I am from the county Limerick also." So saying, he presented the beggar boy ^ith a crown, and bade him a safe journey. The miserable mendicant prosecuted his journey to St. Omers, from whence he returned to Ireland a j^riest, and fol- lowed the profession for a few years. Having, however, com- promised his character by a violation of his sacerdotal vows, he was suspended. He immediately turned Protestant, and bent his course to the Temple in London, where he studied law for a few years, and on his return was called to the bar. As (though nominally a Protestant) he was considered a Catholic at heart, the Catholics of Munster gave him a great deal of business, in consequence of which he acquired a con- siderable estate, which his son, John Fi7;:gibbon, as he termed himself, inherited. Having been educated in the Protestant faith, this youth was sent to Oxford ; from thence he proceeded to the Temple, and finally to Ireland. In Ireland he apparently entered into all the frivolities of fashionable life, but really devoted himself to the study of law, of which he acquired a perfect knowledge. Pitzgibbon never affected patriotism — derided any opposition to the existing authority, and having purchased a seat, flung him- self at once into the ranks of corruption. His peculiaiity of LIFE AND TDIES OF O CONNELL. 57 countenance, voice, and manner — his flippancy of assertion and audacity of bearing — rendered him remarkable amongst the leaders of the ministerial party. Still his ascent to emi- nence must have been slow, had not his sister attracted tho attention and pleased the fancy of the Archbishop of Tuam, brother to the Marquis of Waterford, wnose family name is Beresford. Owing to the absence of exercise, it often happens that the understanding becomes blunted by the long enjoy- ment of wealth and power. The Beresfords had power — Fitz- gibbon had talent, and infused the seething animation of poisonous Ij^mph into the sluggish mass of muddy aristocracy. The attainment of power rather than the accumulation of wealth early engrossed the attention of Fitzgibbon. Ivnowing that the loud avowal of detestation of the Lish and their reli- gion was the " open sesame" of office in L-eland, this son of a Catholic father, who had sprung fi'om the humblest class of the people, manifested on all occasions a fiery zeal in denouncing them. By vituperation of this nature, he passed from the office of attorney-general to the seat of chancellor, and ulti- mately to the earldom of Clare. The motto he assumed, ^^Nil admirari,'* is usually trans- lated, "Nothing is to be wondered at;" but a diiierent trans- lation renders it more applicable to him, viz., " Admu'able in nothing." Fitzgibbon was mainly indebted to Henry Grattan for his elevation to the woolsack. His ingratitude was flagrant. ' ' From that time forth," says Grattan, "his country and myself were the two peculiar objects of his calumny. Seated on the woolsack the haughty arrogance of the new lord chancellor could only be exceeded by the crawling subser- viency of the House of Lords. Feeling his intellectual supe- riority, they quailed before his anger like hounds beneath the lash ; and, forgetful of their own factitious rank and the real dignity of Ireland, yielded without resistance to his despotic dictation. Relying on the promises of the minister, the Catholics be- lieved that their emancipation was certain if thej' aided or ac- quiesced in the Union. The Duke of Wellington, in 1828, publicly admitted that the CathoHcs had been deluded by the lying promises of the aristocracy. A written letter of Lord Clare's confii-ms the spoken testimony ol the Duke of Welling- ton. Lord Clare says, writing to his fraudulent associate, Castlereagh— 16th October, 1798—" I have seen Mr. Pitt, the chancellor, and the Duke of Portland who seem to feel very 58 LIFE AND TIMES OP O'CONNELL. sensibly the critical situation of our damnable countiy , and that the Union alone can save it. I should have hoped that what has passed would have opened the e^-es of every man in England to the insanity of their past conduct with respect to the Papists of Ireland ; but I can plainly perceive they were as full of their Popish projects as ever. I trust and I hope that they are fairly inclined to bring the measure forward unincum- bered with Emancipation. Lord Cornwallis has intimated his acquiesence on this point, and Mr. Pitt is decided upon it." The fact is, that without the permission of the Protestant garrison of Ireland, the British aristocracy could not conveniently concede Emancipation — an argument which was frequently urged by Lord Clare, who was not long in converting Pitt to his way of thinking. On October 27th, 1792, Lord Camden, writing to Lord Castlereagh, says : '' l^tlr. Pitt is inclined most strongly to a Union on a Protestant basis." Thus it was the determined antagonism of Lord Clare, not the scruples of a half-sane monarch, which frustrated the hopes of the Catholics, and stamped the measure of the Union Tsith the same infamous perfidy as the treaty of Limerick. , "When the Legislative Union took place, O'Connell happened to be in Dublin. A dull torpor seemed to hang drearily over the doomed metropolis. There was no excitement. The deadly hatred with which the measure was regarded by all, except the governmental dependents, had settled sullenly down into hopeless despondency. Meantime the cj-mbal-like clash of the joybells of St. Patrick's cathedral smote his ear and maddened him to fury. The glad chimes of the silver-toned bells were celebrating the degi*adation of Ireland as joyously as if it was some glorious national festival. The bells alone were uproarious — the universal city was bm'ied in funereal sad- ness. As to O'Connell, his young blood boiled, and he secretly vowed that the foul dishonour should not endure, if his pohtical exertions could ever terminate the ignominy. About this time O'Connell was comisel against a gentleman, who was so irritated by his answer to evidence that he started up in the court and called the speaker a puree-proud blockhead. O'Connell assured him that he was mistaken. ''In the first place, I have no purse to be proud of ; and secondly, if I be a blockhead it is better for you, as I am counsel against you. However, to save you the trouble of saying so again, I'll admi- nister a slight rebuke ;" and he thwacked him soundly on the back with a cane. O'Connell, the following day, received a challenge fi'om the offended party, which was speedily followed LIFE Al^D TDIES OP O'CONNELL. 59 by a second letter, stating that the writer had discovered since penning the challenge that O'Connell's name was inserted in a valuable lease of his. ** Under these cu'cumstances," said he, *' I cannot afford to shoot you unless you first insure youi* life for my benefit. If you do, then I'm your man." *' The year of the Union," said O'Connell, '* 1 was travelling through the mountain district from Killarney to Kenmare. My heart was heavy at the loss that Ireland had sustained, and the day was wild and gloomy. That desert district, too, was congenial to impressions of solemnity and sadness. There was not a human habitation to be seen for many miles ; black, giant clouds sailed slowly through the sky and rested on the tops of the huge mountains. My soul felt dreary, and I had many wild and Ossianic iuspii-ations as I traversed the bleak solitude." The Union, though ruinous to the country at large, was profitable to two classes of men — the manufacturers of Ulster who dealt in linen, and the aristocracy who trafficked in boroughs : two hundred and seventeen in number — the aris- tocracy held two hundred and twenty-six boroughs. All the movements, all the machinations which took place during the thirty years preceding the Union, had for their result the en- hancement of the money value of boroughs. When Great Britain was embarrassed by the disasters of the American war, the aristocracy threw themselves into the revolutionary move- ments of the Irish Volunteers. When the discomfiture of the rebellion had drowned their country in tears and blood, they joyously sold their boroughs for £15,000 each, or exchanged them for a rise in the peerage, which was equivalent to £15,000. The unfortunate people, who were thus bought and sold, paid the price of the nefarious transactions which ruined them.--;^ The total sum paid for rotten boroughs, at an average of £15,000 each, was £1,260,000, of which the Marquis of Downshire received £52,000 as his share, the Marquis of Ely £45,000, the Earl of Shannon £45,000, Lord Claremorris £23,000, together with a peerage — and so on. The trafiickers in corruption, who wore coronets and possessed boroughs, were paid in proportion to their treachery in the present and the political turpitude they had practised in the past. Their treachery is perhaps the most striking evidence of the degra- * Twenty-thousand pounds defeated the opposition to the Scotcu Union-ra sum barely sufficient to stop the coroneted patriotism of a single voter, when Lord Castlereagh sold Ireland, ** wliolesale and retail for exportation." 60 LIFE AND TIMES OP O'CONNELL. dation of the Irish. An enliglitened people and an anti- national aristocracy could not co-exist. Regarding with abhorrence the undisguised venality of the peers, O'Connell was often tempted to ask — " Is there a lord who knows a cheerful noon "Without a fiddler, flatterer, or buffoon ? Whose table, wit, or modest merit share Unelbowed by a gamester, pimp, or player ?" Certainly very few — judging from the baseness which disgraced their proceedings when selling their country at the time of the Union. The contempt and loathing with which their frauds inspired O'Connell was frequently expressed. On one occasion O'Con- nell was informed by Pierce Mahony that he had seen an old musket in the Duke of Leinster's house in Dominick- street, which the father of the existing duke had shouldered in the ranks of the Volunteers. '* Aye," said O'Connell, "but why does not the slobbering fellow take his lather's musket ? — eh ! Mahony, why does not he ?"h= The reason was very plain — there was no money to be made by the proceeding. The disgust with which the nefarious conduct of the aris- tocracy inspired O'Connell was not confined to his breast. When Lord Charlemont informed the Volunteers, in reply to then* proposition for reform, that "however desirable parlia- mentary reform might be and was, it was admissible only on the basis of Protestant ascendancy," the people saw through the political juggle. There was at that time a publican in Dungannon who had kept the sign of " The Goat," which he exchanged for a por- trait of his lordship when that nobleman was in the noontido of his popularity. No sooner had the preceding reply on the question of reform reached the public than Lord Charlemont's popularity vanished, and the practice of the inn began to de- cline. Thereupon another publican, the rival of " The Lord Charlemont," displayed the device of the goat, and was caiTy- ing all before him. This was sensibly felt by the former pro- prietor, who determined on resuming the ancient name of his house ; but being loath to displace the picture, which was an excellent likeness, he contented himself with the following in- scription, painted in large letters, over the head of Lord Charlemont in full uniform : " this is the real old goat." The conduct of the Ulster linen manufacturers was charac- terised by equal pei-fidy and followed by equal gain. As * O'Neill Daunt's " Personal Recollections." LIFE AND TIMES OF o'CONNELL. 61 O'Connell said himself, "Not one regiment of the northern Presbyterian insurgents ever stood to amis as such. All seemed very fine on paper, but there was very little reality. Their officers used to meet at taverns, plotted together, made valiant resolutions, and saw everything coideur de rose. The Presbyterians fought badly at Ball}Tiahinch. They were com- manded there by one Dickie, an attorney ; and as soon as the fellows were checked they became fuiious Orangemen, and have continued so ever since." The nature of then* reward may be discovered in the flou- rishing condition of the Ulster linen trade, which, when the three other provinces are in rags, coversthe Protestant north with the bloom of general prosperity. That manufacture has been spared by the all-devouring rivalry of Britain, when the other manufactures of Ireland are swallowed up or swept away. The Ulstennen's motive in acquiescing in the Legisla- tive Union has been explained by one of themselves, who, writing from Coleraine, 23rd January, 1799, says to Lord Castlereagh : ** Our linen manufactm'e is in the most flourish- ing state, which makes the wealth of this province, and ought to make us all happy." The independence of then- country was sold by the Ulstermen for what they considered the security and prosperity of the linen manufacture. They receive annu- ally £2,000,000 sterling from America in exchange for their goods, and this circumstance reconciles them to the calamities which the Union inflicts on three provinces of Ireland. The primary object of the Union was to render manufacturing in- dustiy impossible in Catholic Ireland, and by strangling Irish prosperity, aiTOst that dread bugbear of Ulster — ^the "growth of Popery." The Union originated in an English intolerance of the manufacturing industiy of Irish Catholics. Eighteen millions were expended in first getting up and then putting down the rebellion — that is, in bloodshed 1 Nine millions were expended in carrying the Union — that is, in corruption. This money was not, in the opinion of the aristocracy, unpro- fitably expended; because subsequently, between 1820 and 1830, two-thirds of all the manufactories in Ireland were closed and abandoned as ruinous investments. To prove the destructive effects of the Union on Irish trade, it is only ne- cessary to state that a year before the Union, or in 1799, the lists of bankrupts shows, in Januaiy none, in February two, in March one, in April none, in May two, in June one ; in all six. Ten years after the Union the Hst of banki-upts shows, in Januaiy ten, in February eighteen, in Mai'ch eigh- 62 LIFE AND TniES OP O'CONNELL. teen, in April twenty-three, in May forty-seven, in Juno thirty-six; in all 152. The object of the Union was to reduce Ireland to that condition which the Duke of Wellington exult- ingly alluded to when he said: "There is no country in tho world where poverty exists to such a degree as in Ireland." The origin of Lord Castlereagh, who was the perpetrator of the Union, is at once so curious and so little known as to merit particular attention. The real name of the London- deny family is Gregor. The first of them who figured in L'eland was Rob Gregor, a Scotch pedlar, or old-clothes man, who imported secondhand apparel into the county Downl This rag-man, in a drunken broil at Dumbarton, knocked out his adversaria's eye ; and, apprehensive of punishment, fled his native Scotland and took refuge in Ulster. In this province he entered the service of a shop-keeper named Robinson, in Newtownards, and for 3-ears he might be seen trudging slowly through the country with his heavy pack upon his stooping shoulders, and a yard in his hand, endeavouring to sell the goods which his master confided to his integrity. When Robinson died, his childless widow married the ^ Scotch hawker, who became in consequence owner of a shop and a bishop's lease worth £20 a-year. The son of these people was bred to the business, and in process of time married a girt named Orr, a kind of mantua-maker, to whom the youth was attracted by a prospect she was said to have from a man named Stewart, her maternal uncle, who having gone to India to seek his fortune was rumoured to be success- ful, and who at length died abroad and left his niece a con- siderable property — so much beyond Gregor' s anticipations that he even wanted assurance to continue his suit. The true-hearted girl expressed to a mutual friend her surprise and regret at her lover's absence, in terms which modesty did not forbid nor could decorum censure. They were married, and Gregor thereupon assumed the royal name of Stewart without license from the Herald's office. This couple had a son named Rob or Robert, who was to » be educated as a gentleman ; and who, in process of time, was seilt to the Temple to study law, or eat his way to the bar. Stewart, the father, had pm-chased estates with Miss Orr's money, and gained some footing in the borough of Ne^vtown- ards. An English lord, the Earl of Hertford, was at that time the greatest landed proprietor in the county Down. To him our young Stewart became known, and actually obtained one of his daughters in marriage. On his father's death ho became LIFE AND TIMES OF O CONNELL. 63 a man of property, allied to aristocracy, and owner of a horough; and ha^dng at length risen to the peerage, became so influen- tial that his son Robert, in 1790, was a candidate for the county Down, on what is humourously termed the popular in- terest. Nay, he opposed successfully the powerful leading of the Marquis of Dovvushire, to whose servants' hall the grand- father of Robert would have found it difficult to gain admis- sion. The son of Lord Londonderry was the famous Castlereagb, or, as he was jocosely tenned in the county Down, Castle-m^, in allusion to the occupation of his grandfalher the old clothes- man. In the year 1799, O'Connell entered the Society of Free and Accepted Masons. His lodge, which met in Dublin, was numbered 189. He filled the duties of master of that lodge with exemplary fid«lity, and often delivered the ritual of the several degrees with that impressive manner and bewitching voice which in after days captivated his hearers at the bar, at public meetings, and in the senate. O'Connell himself in after . times confessed this. *'It is true," he writes, " I was a free- mason and master of a lodge : it was at a very early period of my life, and either before an ecclesiastical censm-e had been published in the Catholic Church in Ireland prohibiting the taking of the masonic oaths, or at least before I was aware of that censm'e. Freemasonry in Ireland," adds O'Connell, *' may be said to have (apart from its oaths) no e\il tendency, save as far as it may counteract the exertions of those most laudable and useful institutions, the temperance societies. The important objection is the profane taking in vain the awful name of the Deity in the wanton and multiplied oaths — oaths administered on the book of God — without any adequate motive." O'Connell retired from the Society, or to use the amusing expression of a mason, *' a dai'k hour came upon him and he shunned the light." In the winter of 1801, O'Connell partook of a supper with a jovial party at the Freemasons' Tavern then at the corner of Golden-lane. As he was returning home, full of claret, he saw the glow of a conflagration reddeniug the sky and streaks of fire rising above a smoking mass. A timber-yard burst into awful flames, which were spreading rapidly, and threatened to swallow the entire street in destruction. "Water!" was the cry, but the dimculty of reaching the pipes seemed insuperable to the crowded labourers, who were striking the eai'th but making no progress. O'Connell shouldered one of them away, 64 LIFE AND TIMES OP O'CONNELL. seized the fellow's pickaxe, and speedily reached the plug. Animated by the claret which he had previously taken, O'Con- nell continued wielding the pickaxe when his exertions were unnecessary. He would ere long have ripped up the pave- ment, and covered and confused the whole street with a med- ley of rubbish and stones. Sheriff Macready, who was aided by a company of English militia, called on him to stop, but being under the influence of excitement he refused to desist — when a soldier ran a bayonet at him, which was intercepted only by the cover of his hunting watch. *' If I had not had the watch," said O'Connell, when relating this adventure," there was an end of the Agitator." During some years subsequently to the meeting at the Eoyal Exchange, O'Connell seems to have renounced politics. At least he took no prominent part in the timid agitation which the Catholics, chained and cowed by their own aristocracy, were feebly and impotently pursuing. But meantime he ap- plied himself to the duties of his profession with gigantic energy. Owing to the disabilities which still embarrassed Catholic lawyers — the links which 3^et jangled on their robes — the persuasive power, those wonderful talents as an advocate which rendered him so remarkable in after times, could not be displayed by O'Connell. He could not wear a silk gown, and the opportunity of addressing a jury was rarely accorded to him. He was obliged to shrink from the gi'eat and exciting battle-ground of forensic ability, into the criminal courts. He was obliged to confine himself to cross-examina- tion. But in proportion to the difficulties thus opposed to him, his talent for cross-examination developed itself prodi- giously. Perhaps no lawyer ever exhibited the same amount" of ability in that department. O'Connell appeared to divine the secret thoughts and feelings of the witness. The habits and character of his countrymen were by him so thoroughly understood, that he could penetrate thek motives with unerr- ing perspicacity. His cross-examination usually commenced with some ques- tion which had apparently no connexion with the trial, and when he had by wit and humour succeeded in amusing, con- i'ounding, and perplexing the witness — when he had alternately puzzled him and put him into good humom- — he suddenly re- verted to the subject of the direct examination. Plying the witness then with a series of questions which gi-adually led him to enmesh himself in a labyrinth of contradictions, be flew back to some irrelevant subject, which diverted the wit- LIFE AND TIMES OP o'CONNELL. 65 ness*s attention from his own discrepancies, and hindered him from seeing the maze in which he was floundering. O'Con- nell's cross-examination consisted of a series of attacks and retreats, which gradually clouded the minds of the judge and jury with serious doubts as to the witness's credibility — and this even when the witness was veracious. As a necessary consequence he became the favom'ite law}^er in the criminal coiu-t of the Munster circuit, and often rescued the victim of agrarian oppression from the fangs of law and the ignominy of the gallows. O'Connell on one occasion was engaged in a will case. It was the allegation of the plaintilfs that the will — by which considerable property had been devised — was a forgery. The subscribing witnesses swore that the will had been signed by the deceased while *' life was in him" — a mode of expression derived from the Irish language, and which peasants who have ceased to speak Irish still retain. The evidence was altogether in favour of the will, and the defendants had every reason to calculate on success, when O'Connell undertook to cross- examine one of the witnesses. He was struck by the persis- tency of this man, who in reply to his questions never deviated from the formula, '' the life was in him." *' On the virtue of your oath, was he alive ?" " By the virtue of my oath, the life was in him," repeated the witness. *' Now I call on you in the presence of your Maker, who will one day ,pass sentence on you for this evidence ; I solemnly ask — and answer me at your peril — was there not a live fly in the dead man's mouth when his hand was placed on the will." The witness was palsied by this question ; he trembled, shivered, and tm-ned pale, and faltered out an abject confes- sion that the counsellor was right — a fly had been introduced into the mouth of the deceased to enable the witnesses to swear that life was in him !-;< Notwithstanding the versatile talents and solid learning which O'Connell manifested, his religion excluded him from much valuable business. In those days a Catholic was never heard in the courts of justice with that gracious approval and smiling encouragement which dissipates timidity, and cheers and ani- mates a young and sensitive advocate. On the other hand, O'Connell was always a favourite with a common jury, because his broad humour usually enabled him to have the laugh at his * Fagan's " Life of Daniel O'Connell." 66 LIFE AND TIMES OF O COXNELL. side, and because his religion was often identical with that of the jiin^men. Nor was this all ; the attorneys on the Munster circuit gi'adually learned that a degree of reHance might be placed on O'Connell's pleadings which could not be attached to those of any other junior member of the bar. His astonish- ijig skill in cross-examination ; the caution, the dexterity, and judgment which he displayed in conducting a case, the clear- ness and precision with which he disentangled the most intri- cate mass of evidence, especially in matters of account, pro- cured for him the enthe confidence of all those who had legal patronage to dispense. At nisi _y;?'n/s his manner alone was enough to persuade an Irish jury that his client must be right. His anticipation of victory always seemed so unfeigned, that he seldom failed to create in the minds of every spectator a pre- judice in favour of the party who had the good fortune to en- gage his seiwices. An anecdote which O'Connell told his secretary illustrates tlie foregoing: "I recollect I once had a cUent, an unlucky fellow, against whom a verdict had been given for a balance of £1,100. We were trying to set aside that verdict. I was yomig at the bar at that time ; my senior counsel contented themselves with abusing the adverse witnesses, detecting flaws in their evidence, and makiog sparkling points ; in short, they made very flourishing, eloquent, but rather ineflective speeches. While they flouiished away I got our client's books, and taking my place immediately under the judges' bench, I opened the accounts and went through them all from beginning to end. I got the whole drawn out by double entry, and got numbers for every voucher. The result plainly was, that so far from there being a just balance of £1,100 against our poor devil, there actually was a balance of £700 in his favour, although the poor slovenly blockhead did not know it himself. When my turn came, I made the facts as clear as possible to judge and jury ; and the jury inquired if they could not find a verdict of £700 in his favom-. I just tell you the circumstance," con- tinued O'Connell, "to show you that I kept an eye on that important branch of my profession."* Among the evil consequences which were entailed by that pernicious measm'e, the Union, on the Irish people, a foremost place must be given to the depravation of justice. A number of men were foisted on the bench whose only qualification was their political profligacy, and who received the ermine because they betrayed the country. No less than nine individuals can * O'Neill Daunt's " Recollections." LIFE AND TIMES OF o'CONNELL. 67 be named who were entrusted with the power of administering law, because in their conduct they had violated every principle of poHtical justice. As lawyers they were ignorant, as senators they were perfidious, as men they were equivocal — and there- fore, they were made judges. Judge Daly was one of these. Daly was ignorant of law, but very skilful in duelling — he could always shoot the friends of Ireland with hi» pistols in the field, though he could not reply to them by his eloquence in the House. This talent was thoroughly understood by the aris- tocracy — and therefore they raised him to the bench. Norbury was another who, like a highwayman, was indebted to his pistols for his promotion. O'Connell described him as " one of Castlereagh's unprincipled Janizaries." Norbury was de- scended from a Cromwellian soldier. His original inheritance was £500, charged upon his brother's estate, the interest of which enabled him to scramble through Trinity College and the Temple. He married the daughter of an old miserly Dublin attorney named Hector Graham, whose ill-gotten money enabled him to purchase corruptly a seat in the House of Commons, where, as well as at the bar, he played his part so successfully that he became attorney-general, and finally chief justice of the common pleas. "He was indeed a curious judge," said O'Connell. **He had a considerable parrot-sort of knowledge of law — ^he had upon his memory an cnonnous number of cases,* but he did not understand, nor was he capable of understanding, a single principle of law. To be sure, his charges were the strangest effusions. When charging the jury in the action brought by Guthrie versus Sterne to recover damages for criminal conver- sation with the plaintiff's wife, Norbury said : ' Gentlemen of the jury — the defendant in this case is Henry William Godfrey Baker Sterne — and there, gentlemen, you have him from stem to Sterne. I am free to observe, gentlemen, that if this Mr. Henry William Godfrey Baker Sterne had as many Christian virtues as he has Christian names, we never should see the honest gentleman figm'ing here as defendant in an action for crim. con.' "* The noisy bursts of indecorous merriment which his puns produced seemed to afford him unmixed satisfaction. *' What is yom' calling or occupation, my honest man ?" he once asked a witness. " Please j'om- lordship, I keep a racket court." *'/So do I," rejoined Lord Norbury, chuckling in ex- * O'Neill Daunt's "Personal Recollections.'* 68 LITE AND TIMES OF o'CONNELL. ulting allusion to the noise, uproar, and racket wliicli liis wit- ticisms constantly awakened in court. ''When they were burying Norbury," added O'Connell, *'the grave was so deep that the ropes by which they were let- ting down the coffin did not reach to the bottom. The coffin remained hanging at mid depth while somebody was sent for more rope. * Aye,' cried a butcher's apprentice, 'give him rope enough. It would be a pity to stint him. It's himself never grudged a poor man the rope !' " Towards the bench (contemptible as it then was) the manner of O'Connell was respectful and independent, and at times even stem ; but towards his colleagues he was ever sociable and Idnd. He loved to throw the segis of his intellectual power over the young and sensitive barrister, wincing under the stern repulsiveness of some hoary and supercilious judge ; he not only supported his own dignity, he defended the privileges of others when their shrinking timidity would have surrendered to the bench the prerogatives of the bar. In the court of com- mon pleas, when Mr. J. Martley rose to make his fii'st motion with that embarrassment and solicitude which are inseparable from a fii'st effort, the young man was rudely interrupted several times by Judge Johnson, who heard him with ^dsible ill-humour and impatience. Johnson's truculence was the more painful to young Martley as it was aided by the petulant jocoseness of Norbmy, who sat beside Johnson and flung squibs at Martley. The young barrister blushed, stammered, and went floundering into a maze of confusion and difficulty, when O'Connell entered the com't. Moved to pity by the obvious distress of the j'oung man, O'Connell urged the elder barristers to interpose in his behalf, but they shrank back in alarm and refused to interfere. O'Connell threw his shield over him at once. ''My lords, I respectfully submit that Mr. Martley has a perfect title to a full hearing. He has a duty to discharge to his client, and should not, I submit, be impeded in the dis- charge of that duty. Mr. Martley is not personally known to me, but I cannot sit here in silence while a brother barrister is treated so discourteously." " Oh ! Mr. O'Connell, we have heard Mr. Martley," said Lord Norbury, " and we cannot allow the time of the court to be further wasted." " Pardon me, my lord, you have not heard him. The young gentleman has not been allowed to explain his case — an explanation which, I am quite sure, he is capable of giving if your lordships afford him the opportunity." " Mr. O'Connell," said Judge Johnson, with an air of great pomposity, " are you engaged in this case LIFE AND TIMES OF o'CONNELL. 69 that yon thus presume to interfere ?" *'My lord, I am not ; I merely rise to defend the privileges of the bar, and I will not permit them to be violated either in my own or the person of any other member of the profession." "Well, well; well, well," interposed Lord Norbury, " we'll hear Mr. Hartley — we'll hear Mr. Hartley. Sit down, Mr. O'Connell — sit down." Having thus carried his point Mr. O'Connell, in obedience to the bench, sat do^^^l ; and Mr. Hartley, whose gratitude to O'Connell was sincere and lasting, stated his case so satisfac- torily as to obtain his motion. O'Connell, on one occasion, was engaged to defend a high- wayman who had committed robbery on the public road in the vicinity of Cork, and owing to the masterly manner in which O'Connell sifted the evidence and cross-examined the witnesses the robber was let loose. The foUomng year, on returning to Cork, O'Connell saw the same hardened face resting on the same well-worn dock, giim and ruffianly, and accused of very nearly the same crime — burglary accompanied by an aggravated assault, which was proximate to murder. The culprit, as in the former case, was fortunate enough to secure the services of O'Connell, who puzzled thewitnesses,perplexed the judge, and bewildered the jury — owing to whose hopeless disagreement the prisoner was discharged. His industrious client when re- stored to liberty had no notion of sitting down in sluggish idle- ness ; on the contrary, he stole a collier-brig, sold the cargo, pm'chased arms with the price, and cruised along the coast in quest of booty ; and when O'Connell returned to Cork he was once more in the dock charged with piracy. For the third time his defence was undertaken by O'Connell. O'Connell showed that the crime did not come under the cognizance of the court, as it had been perpetrated on the high seas ; it came under the cognizance only of the Admiralty. The gratitude of the prisoner was warmly expressed — ^raising his hands and eyes to heaven, he exclaimed, " Oh ! may the Lord spare you to mer *' O'Connell was on another occasion counsel, before Judge Day, for a man who stole some goats. The fact was proved, whereupon O'Connell produced to Judge Day an old act of parliament, empowering the owners of corn-fields, gardens, or plantations to kill and destroy all hares, rabbits, and goats tres- passing thereon. O'Connell contended that this legal power of destruction clearly demonstrated that goats were not property, and thence inferred that the stealer of goats was not legally a thief or punishable as such. Judge Day was so unacquainted 70 LIFE AND TIMES OF O'CONNELL. with law that he charged the jury accordingly, and the prisoner was acquitted. Curran used to say that Day's efforts to un- derstand a point of law resembled an attempt to open an oyster with a rolling-pin. A farmer was captured in the act of killing game on the gi'ounds of a landed proprietor, three of whose servants had se- cured the poacher, and were ready to swear that they caught him in the act. The culpability of the poacher was so palpa- ble that the defence seemed perfectly hopeless to O'Connell. He refused to take a fee. *' I can render your client no service ; his guilt is undeniable," said O'Connell. " I confess the de- fence looks desperate," said the attorney, ** but j'ou will greatly oblige me by undertaking it." After considerable altercation O'Connell reluctantly took the fee and proceeded to examine the first witness. '* We shall remove the other two witnesses," whispered the attorney. ''By no means," replied O'Connell, " my only hope of success is in their presence ; let them re- main." The keen perspicacity of O'Connell enabled him to see that each of the witnesses was desirous of engi'ossing the entire merit of effecting the capture. Each witness in succession undeiTalued the part played by the other two — he, and he alone, was the hero of the apprehension. The assumption of the fii'st mortified the vanity of the second, who was irritated to find himself undervalued — a cii'cumstance which led him, in his rage, to contradict his colleague, and to gratify his in- ordinate vaniiy he silenced the whisperings of conscience. "Now will you answer me one additional question?" said O'Connell to the last witness, *' and then perhaps I'll have done with you." **If you promise to ask me no more questions, I'll answer you any way you like." " Very well ! Remember you said so. Now by the virtue of your oath, is not the prisoner innocent ?" *' By the virtue of my oath," said the witness, determined to deprive his colleagues of the merit of the capture as he himself could not monopoKse it all — " by the vii'tue of my oath, he is innocent." The poacher was acquitted. Engaged on another occasion to defend a man accused of mui'der, O'Connell despaired of success, owing to the nature of the evidence, which seemed quite conclusive. The princi- pal witness was a boy, whose eagerness and petulance attracted the attention of O'Connell. Takinfir the measure of his mind LIFE AND TIMES OF O'CONNELL. 71 in a moment, O'Connell determined to avail himself of his im- petuosity to entangle him in a wilderness of contradiction. " How do you know the prisoner is the man who committed the murder ?" " I know him," answered the hoy, *'by the mark on his cheek." " On which cheek was the mark?" ** On his right cheek," replied the boy in unthinking impe- tuosity. By the right cheek the boy understood the cheek which was opposed to his own right hand. Could he have expressed his meaning he must have convicted the prisoner, who had a mark on his cheek, but it was the left cheek — the very one which the witness meant. This discrepancy enabled O'Con- nell to save the life of the prisoner. The real criminal, who was subsequently brought to light, was marked on the right cheek. This power of seizing upon trifles and magnifying them into importance, enabled O'Connell in many instances to save the innocent fi'om destruction, and frustrate the wanton vagaries of pm'se-proud oppression. O'Connell's appearance when going the circuit has been described in a graphic manner by an able but anonymous writer. He says: *' I had sat dowTi at the inn of the little village, and had placed myself in the window. The market was over ; the people had gi-adually passed to their homes ; the busy hum of the day was fast dj^ing away. The sun was sinking and threw his lingering beams into the neat but ill- furnished apartment where I was sitting. To avoid the glare of his beams I changed my position, and this gave me a more uninteiTupted view of the long street, which threw its termina- tion into the gi'een fields of the country. Casting my eyes in this direction, I beheld a chariot- and-four coming towards me enveloped in a complete cloud of dust, and the panting horses of which were urged on with tremendous rapidity. Struck with the unexpected arrival of such a vehicle in that place, I leaned out of the window to observe its destination, and be- held it still rolling hurriedly along and sweeping round the angle of the street towards the inn with increased violence. If my reader has been much used to travelling, he will be aware that the moment a postilion comes in sight of an inn, he is sure to call forth the mettle of his horses — perhaps to show off the blood of his cattle. This was the case at present, and a quick gallop brought the vehicle in thundering noise to 72 LIFE AND TIMES OF O'CONNELL. the door, where Shenstone says is to be found, ' the warmest welcome.' The animals were sharply checked, the door was flmig open, and the occupier hurriedly threw himself out. *' 'Bring out four horses, instantly!' was the command he uttered in the loud voice of haste and authority. " The inmate of the carriage was about five feet eleven and a half inches high, and wore a portly, stout, hale, and agreeable appearance. His shoulders were broad, and his legs stoutly built; and as he at that moment stood, one arm in his side pocket, the other thrust into a waistcoat, which was almost completely unbuttoned from the heat of the day, he would have made a good figure for the rapid but fine-finishing touch of Harlowe. His head was covered with a light fm' cap, which partly thrown back, displayed that breadth of forehead which I have never yet seen absent from real talent. His eyes appeared to me, at that instant, to be between a light blue and a gray colour. His face was pale and sallow, as if the turmoil of business, the shade of care, or the study of mid- night had chased away the glow of health and youth. Around his mouth played a cast of sarcasm, which, to a quick eye, at once betrayed satire ; and it appeared as if the lips could be easily resolved into risus sardonicus. His head was somewhat larger than that which a modern doctrine denominates the * medium size;' and iL was well supported by a stout and well-foundationed pedestal which was based on a breast — full, round, prominent, and capacious. The eye was shaded by a brow which I thought would be more congenial to sunshine than storm, and the nose was neither Grecian nor Roman, but was large enough to readily admit him into the chosen band of that * immortal rebel'- who chose his body-guard with capa- cious lungs and noses, as afi'ording greater capability of under- going toil and hardship. Altogether he appeared to possess strong physical powers. '' He was di-essed in an olive-brown snrtout, black trowsers, and black waistcoat. His cravat was carelessly tied — the knot almost undone from the heat of the day; and as he stood with his hand across his bosom, and his eyes bent on the ground, he was the very pictm*e of a public character hurrying away on some important matter which required all of personal exertion and mental energy. Often as I have seen him since, I have never beheld him in so striking or pictorial an attitude. " * Quick with the horses!' was his hurried ejaculation, as he recovered himself from his reverie and flung himself into his * Cromwell — thus called by Lord Byron. LIFE AND TIMES OF o'CONNELL. 73 carriage. The whip was cracked, and away went the chariot with the same cloud of dust and the same tremendous pace. *'I did not see him pay any money. He did not enter the inn. He called for no refreshment, nor did he utter a word to any person around him ; he seemed to be obeyed by instinct. And while I marked the chariot thundering along the street, which had all its then spectators turned on the cloud- enveloped vehicle, my curiosity was intensely excited, and I instantly de- scended to learn the name of this extraordinary stranger. " Most ynal apropos, how^ever, were my inquiries. Unfortu- nately the landlord was out, the waiter could not tell his name, and the hostler ' knew nothing whatsomdever of him, oney he was in the most oncommonest hurry.' A short time, however, satisfied my curiosity. The next day brought me to the capi- tal of the county. It was the assize time. Yery fond of ora- tory, I went to the court-house to hear the forensic eloquence of the ' home circuit.' I had scarcely seated myself when the same greyish eye, broad forehead, portly figure, and strong tone of voice arrested my attention. He was just on the mo- ment of addressing th6 jury, and I anxiously waited to hear the speech of a man w^ho had already so strongly interested me. After looking at the judge steadily for a moment, he began his speech exactly in the following pronunciation — ' My Lurrd — gentlemen of the jury — ' ** ' Who speaks ?' instantly whispered I. ' " ' Counsellor O'Connell,' was the reply." Counsel in a case in which his cHent was capitally charged, O'Connell undertook the defence, although the attorney consi- dered the chances as utterly hopeless. O'Connell knew it was useless to attempt a defence in the ordinary way, the evidence being more than sufficient to insure a conviction. Sergeant Lefroy, then very young, happened to preside in the absence of one of the judges who had fallen ill. Knomng the character of the judge, O'Connell put a number of illegal questions to the witness, which the crown prosecutor immediately objected to. The learned sergeant decided rather peremptorily that he could not allow Mr. O'Connell to proceed with his line of examina- tion. "As you refuse me permission to defend my client, I leave his fate in your hands," said O'Connell — " his blood will be on your head if he be condemned." O'Connell flung out . of the court in apparent displeasure, and paced up and down on the flagway outside for half an hour. At the end of this time he saw the attorney for the defence rushing out in a great hurry without his hat. " He's acquitted! he's acquitted l" es- 4 74 LIFE AND TIMES OF O'CONNELL. claimed the attorney, in breathless haste and joyous exultation. O'Connell smiled with a peculiar expression at the success of his stratagem — for such it was. He knew that a judge so young as Lefroy must naturally shrink in horror fi'om the ter- rible responsibility of destroying human life. He therefore flung the onus upon the judge, who, in the absence of O'Connell, took up the case and became unconsciously the advocate of the prisoner. He conceived a prejudice in favour of the accused, cross-examined the witnesses, and finally charged the jmy in the prisoner's favour. The consequence was the complete and unexpected acquittal of the accused. " My only chance," said O'Connell, " was to throw the responsibility on the judge, who had a natural timidity of incurring a responsibility so serious." The keen vulpine sagacity of the men who were often opposed to O'Connell rendered profound astuteness on his part abso- lutely indispensable. " The cleverest attorney that ever I heard of," said O'Connell, ^' was one Checkley, familiarly kno^vn by the name of Checkley- be-d d. Checkley was agent once at the Cork assizes for a fellow accused of burglary and arggi-avated assault, committed at Bantry. The noted Jerry Keller was counsel for the pri- soner, against whom the charge was made out by the clearest circumstantial evidence — so clearly that it seemed quite impos- sible to doubt his guilt. When the case for the prosecution closed, the judge asked if there were any witnesses for the de- fence. 'Yes, my lord,' said Jerry Keller, 'I have three briefed to me.' ' Call them,' said the judge. Checkley imme- diately bustled out of court, and returned at once leading in a very respectable farmer-like man, with a blue coat and gilt buttons, scratch wig, corduroy tights, and gaiters. ' This is a witness to character, my lord,' said Checldey. Jerry Keller (the counsel) forthwith began to examine the witness. After asking him his name and residence, * You know the prisoner in the dock ?' said Keller. ' Yes, yom- honour, ever since he was a gosEOon.' ' And what is his general character,' said Keller. ^ Ogh ! the (\e\i\ a worse.' ' Why, what sort of a witness is this you've b/ought ?' cried Keller, passionately fling- ing down his brief and looking furiously at Checkley; ' he has ruined us !' 'He may prove an alibi, however,' returned Checkley; ' examine him to alibi as instiTicted in your brief.' Keller accordingly resumed his examination. ' Where was the prisoner on the 10th instant ?' said he. * He was near Castle- martyr,' answered the witness. * Are you sure of that ? * Quite sure, counsellor,' * How do you know with such cer- LIFE AND TIMES OF O'CONNELL. 75 tainty ?' * Because upon that very night I was returning from the fair, and when I got near my own house I saw the prisoner a little way on before me — I'd swear to him anywhere. He was dodging about, and I knew it could be for no good end. So I stepped into the field and turned off my horse to grass ; and while I was watching the lad from behind the ditch, I saw him pop across the wall into my garden and steal a lot of parsnips and caiTots, and what I thought a gi'eat deal worse of, he stole a brand-new English spade I had got from my landlord, Lord Shannon. So faix I cut away after him ; but as I was tired from my day's labour, and he being fresh and nimble, I was not able to ketch him. But next day my spade was seen, surely, in his house ; and that's the same rogue in the dock. I wish I had a hoult of him.' 'It is quite evident,' said the judge, 'that we must acquit the prisoner; the witness has clearly established an alibi for him. Castlemartyr is nearly sixty miles from Bantry, and he certainly is anything but a partizan of his. Pray, fi'iend,' addressing the witness, 'will you swear informations against the prisoner for his robbery of your property ?' * Troth I will, my lord ! with all the plea- sure in life, if your lordship thinks I can get any satisfaction out of him. I'm told I can for the spade, but not for the carrots and parsnips.' ' Go to the (Ji'own office and swear in- formations,' said the judge. *' The prisoner was of course discharged, the alibi having been clearly estabhshed. In an hour's time some inquiry was made as to whether Checkley's rural witness had sworn infor- mations in the crown office. That gentleman was not to be heard of; the prisoner also had vanished immediately on being discharged, and of course, resumed his mal-practices forth- with. It needs hardly be told that Lord Shannon's soi disant tenant dealt a little in fiction, and that the story of his farm from that nobleman, and of the spade and the vegetables, was a pleasant device of Mr. Checkley's. I told this story," con- tinued O'Connell, " to a coterie of English barristers with whom I dined, and it was most amusing to witness their as- tonishment at Mr. Checkley's unprincipled ingenuity. Stephen Rice declared he would walk fifty miles to see Checkley." O'Connell could not be awed by the judges, who, differing from him in poHtics as they did, were often overbearing and hostile. By the sheer force of legal and intellectual power, he beat down the most formidable hatred, and compelled the bitterest personal rancour to give way. If they were haughty, he was proud. If they were malevolent, he was cuttingly 76 LIFE AND TIMES OF O CORNELL. sarcastic. Happening to be one day present in the courts in Dublin, where a discussion arose on a motion for a new trial, a young attorney was called upon by the opposing counsel either to admit a statement as evidence, or hand in some document he could legally detain. O'Connell stood up and told the attorney to make no admission. "Have you a brief in this case, Mr. O'Connell?" asked Baron M'Cleland, with very pe- culiar emphasis. "I have not, my lord ; but I shall have one when the case goes down to the assizes." "When I was at the bar it was not 7mj habit to anticipate briefs." " When you were at the bar I never chose you for a model, and now that you are on the bench, I shall not submit to your dictation." Leaving the judge to digest this retoii;, he walked out of court, accompanied by the young attorney. At a case tried at the Cork assizes, a point arose touching the legality of certain evidence, which O'Connell argued was clearly admissable. ■ He sustained his own view veiy fully — reasoning with that force and clearness, and quoting prece- dents with that facility, for which he was distinguished. But it was to no purpose. *The court ruled against him, and the witnesses were shut out. The trial was of extraordinary length, and at the close of the day the proceedings were not ended. On the follomng morning when the case was about to be resumed, the judge addressed O'Connell. "I have reconsidered my decision of yesterday," said his lord- ship, "and my present opinion is, that the evidence tendered by you should not have been rejected. You can therefore re- produce that evidence now." Instead of obsequiously thanking him for his condescension, as another would have done, O'Con- nell's impatience broke out. " Had your lordship known as much law yesterday morning as you do to-day," said O'Connell bitterly, "you would have spared me a vast amount of time and trouble, and my client a considerable amount of injury. Crier, call up the witnesses." The judge felt the rebuke acutely, but remained silent. "There was a barrister of the name of Parsons at the bar in my earlier practice," said O'Connell, "who had a good deal of humour. Parsons hated the whole tribe of attorneys ; per- haps they had not treated him very well — but his prejudice against them was eternally exhibiting itself. One day, in the hall of the Four Courts, an attorney came up to him to beg LIFE AND TIMES OF O'CONNELL. 77 his subscription towards burying a brother attorney who had died in distressed circumstances. Parsons took out a pound note. ' Oh, Mr. Parsons,' said the applicant, ' I do not want so much ; I only ask a shilling from each contributor.' 'Oh, take it — take it,' replied Parsons; 'I would most willingly subscribe money any day to put an attorney under gi'ound.' *But really, Mr. Parsons, I have limited myself to a shilling from each person.' *For pity's sake, my good sir, take the pound — and bmy twenty of them.' " " One of the most curious things I remember in my bar ex- perience," said O'Connell, ''is Judge Foster's charging for the acquittal of a homicide named Denis Halligan, who was tried, with four others, at the Limerick assizes many years ago. Foster totally mistook the evidence of the principal witness for the prosecution. The offence charged was aggravated man- slaughter committed on some poor wi-etch whose name I forget. The first four prisoners were shown to be criminally abetting ; but the fifth, Denis Halligan, was proved to have inflicted the fatal blow. The evidence of the principal witness against him was given in these words : ' I saw Denis Halligan, my lord (he that's in the dock there) take a vacancy'^ at the poor soul that's kilt, and give him a wipe wdth a cleh-alpeen,\ and lay him down as quiet as a child.' The judge charged against the first four prisoners, and sentenced them to seven yeai's' imprisonment each ; then proceeding to the fifth, the rascal who really com- mitted the homicide, he addi*essed him thus: 'Denis Halligan, I have purposely reserved the consideration of your case for the last. Your crime, as being a participator in the affray, is doubt- less of a grievous nature ; yet I cannot avoid taking into consi- deration the mitigating circumstances that attend it. By the evidence of the witness it clearly appears that you were the only one of the party who showed any mercy to the unfortu- nate deceased. You took him to a vacant seat, and you wiped him with a clean napkin, and (to use the affecting and poetic language of the witness) you laid him down with the gentleness one shows to a little child. In consideration of these cu'cum- stances, which considerably mitigate yom* offence, the only punishment I shall inflict on j^ou is an imprisonment of three week's duration.' So Denis Halligan got off by Foster's mis- taking a vacancy for a vacant seat, and a cleh-alpeen for a clean napkin."! O'Connell was asked on one occasion by his secretary, O'Neill Daunt, " whether the Iiish bar had not a higher repu- * Aim. t A bludgeon. % O'Neill Daunt. 78 LIFE AND TIMES OF O CONNELL. tation for wit in the last century than the present?" He said they had now no such vdt as Curran ; but that other members of the bar participated in a great degree in the laughter- stir- nng quality. ''Holmes," said he, *' has a great share of very clever sarcasm Plmiket had great wit ; he was a creature of exquisite genius. Nothing could be happier than his hit in reply to Lord Redesdale about the kites. In a speech before Redesdale, Plunket had occasion to use the phrase kites very frequently, as designating fraudulent bills and pro- missory notes. Lord Redesdale, to whom the phrase was quite new, at length internipted him, sapng : * I don't quite understand yom- meaning, Mr. Plunket. In England kites are paper plajihings used by boys ; in Ireland they seem to mean some species of monetaiy transaction.' 'There is another dif- ference my lord,' said Plunket. ' In England, the wind raises the kites ; in Ireland, the kites raise the uind.' "Curran was once defending an attorney's bill of costs before Lord Clare. * Here now,' said Clare, * is a flagitious imposition; how can you defend this item, Mr. Curran? — " To wiitiug innumerable letters, £100." ' * Why, my lord,' said Cm-ran, * nothing can be more reasonable. It is not a penny a letter.' And Curran's reply to Judge Robinson is ex- quisite in its way. * I'll commit you, su',' said the judge. ' I hope you'll never commit a worse thing, my lord!' retorted Curran. "Wilson Croker, too," said Mr. O'Connell, " had humour. When the crier wanted to expel the dwarf O'Leary, who was about three feet four inches high, from the jury-box in Tralee, Croker said, 'Let him stay where he is — De minimis non curat lex' (Law cares not for small things). And when Tom Goold got retainers fi'om both sides, 'Keep them both,' said Croker; ' you may conscientiously do so. You can be counsel for one side, and of use to the other.'" Speaking of Judge Day while he was yet alive, O'Connell said : "No man would take more pains to serve a friend; but as a judge they could scarcely have placed a less efficient man upon the bench He once said to me at the Cork assizes, 'Mr. O'Connell, I must not allow you to make a speech ; the fact is, I am always of opinion -uith the last speaker, and therefore I will not let you say one word.' ' My lord,' said I, ' that is precisely the reason why I'll let nobody have the last word but myself, if I can help it.' I had the last word, and Day cLargel in favour of my client. Day was made judge in 1793. He had been chairman of Kilmainham, LIFE AKD TIMES OF O'COOTTELL. 79 with a salary of £1,200 a-year. When he got on the bench, Bully Egan got the chairmanship." " Was Bully Egan a good lawyer ?" "He was a successful one ; his bullying helped him through. He was a desperate duellist. One of his duels was fought with a Mr. O'Reilly, who fii'ed before the word was given ; the shot did not take effect. 'Well, at any rate, my honour is safe,' said O'Reilly. * Is it so,' said Egan — * egad, I'll take a slap at your honoiu' for all that.' And Egan deliberately held his pistol pointed for full five minutes at O'Reilly, whom he kept for that period in the agonies of mortal suspense." ''DidhekiUhim?" " Not he," rephed O'Connell ; " he couldn't hit a hay-stack. If com^age appertained to duelling, he certainly possessed it. But in everything else he was the most timid man alive. Once I stated, in the court of exchequer, that I had, three days liefore, been in the room with a man in fever 120 miles olF. The instant I said so, Egan shuffled away to the opposite side of the court through pure fear of infection." Judge Day was a simpleton, but Judge Boyd was worse — he was a drunkard. "He was so fond of brandy," said O'Connell, "that he always kept a supply of it in court, upon the desk before him, in an ink-stand of peculiar make. His lordship used to lean his arm upon the desk, bob down his head, and steal a hurried sip from time to time through a quill that lay among the pens ; which mancemTe he flattered himself escaped observation. " One day it was sought by counsel to com^ct a witness of having been intoxicated at the period to which his e^ddence re- fen-ed. Mr. Harry Deane Grady laboured hard upon the other hand to show that the man had been sober. * Come now, my good man,' said Judge Boyd — * it is a very impor- tant consideration ; tell the court truly, were you drunk or were you sober upon that occasion ?' " ' Oh, quite sober, my lord,' broke -^n Grady, with a very significant look at the ink-stand — 'as sober as a judge.' " Humble as was O'Connell's opinion of the judges, his esti- mation of their wigs was, if possible, still more disparaging. His commentary on this grotesque article of head-tire, which the good sense of the Americans has very properly discarded, seems to prove that if he sHghted the contents of the judicial head, he had even less respect for the horse-hair which enve- lopes it- He said : " The judges of the land who come down to preside in your courts, with all their solemn gravity and 80 LIFE AND TIMES OF O'COXNELL. antiquated harlequinade, astonish the people with their profu- sion of horse-hair and chalk ! For must not every one think what a formidable, terrible fellow he is that has got twenty- nine pounds weight of an enormous powdered wig on his head. This is all humbug of the old times, and I long to see it kicked away, with many other antiquated absurdities and abuses." O'Connell had strong convictions against the law of punish- ment by death. In a speech delivered at a public meeting he said: "I myself defended three brothers of the name of Cre- min. They were indicted for mm-der. The evidence was most unsatisfactory. The judge had a leaning in favour of the crown prosecution ; and he almost compelled the jury to con- dct them. I sat at my window as they passed by, after sen- tence of death had been pronounced ; there was a large mili- tary guard taking them back to jail, positively forbidden to allow any communication with the three unfortunate youths. But their mother was there ; and she, armed in the strength of lier affection, broke through the guard. I saw her clasp her eldest son, who was but twenty-two years of age ; I saw her hang on the second, who was not twenty; I saw her faint when she clung to the neck of the youngest boy, who was but eighteen ; and I ask what recompense could be made for such agony? They were executed, and — they were innocent!" Y/ith all his talents, however, his success was not uniform ; he sometimes failed. A cow-stealer, for example, whom he had repeatedly defended, was finally transported. On retm-ningfrom New South Wales, many years after, O'Connell met his quon- dam client. "How did it happen," asked O'Connell, ''that the cows you stole were always fat ?" The significant re- ply was : " When your honour goes for to shteal a cow, mind, it's no use youi' goin' of a fine night ; but go to shteal her always of a black night, when it's rainin' torrents and blowin' whirlwinds, for nobody else will be out barrin' your- self on a bad night lika that. The wilder the night, the easier you'll shteal the cow. And when yom- honom- goes into the •field where you're going to shteal her, don't be for takin' the cow that's crudlin' near the ditch, becase she's surely a lean cow ; but shteal the cow that stands out in the rain. She's worth shtealin'. She's fat, and does not want shelther. That's the cow for your honour to shteal." O'Connell thanked his informant, and promised, mth eveiy appearance of sincerity, to follow his directions to the letter when, abandoning the painful drudgery of the law, he adopted the exciting and ad- LIFE AND TIMES OF O'CONNELL. 81 venturous and not always unprofitable profession of stealing cows. Daniel O'Connell was married privately on the 23rd June, 1802, in Dame-street, Dublin, at the lodgings of Mr. James Connor, brother-in-law of the bride. The ceremony was per- formed by the Rev. Mr. Finn, then parish priest of Irish- town. Mary O'Connell — for such was the bride's maiden- name — was the daughter of a medical man in Tralee, much esteemed for his professional sldll, but not sufficiently enriched with the gifts of fortune to fui'nish his amiable daughter with a dower. She was the cousin of her husband. Many months this private marriage was kept a profound secret, but finally his family became aware of the nuptials, and their indignation was extreme. O'Connell's uncle was particularly displeased. "I never," said O'Connell, "proposed marriage to any woman but one — my Mary. I said to her, 'Ai-e you en- gaged, Miss O'Connell?' She answered, 'I am not.' 'Then,' said I, * will you engage yourself to me ?' * I will,' was her reply. And I said I would devote my life to make her happy. She deserved that I should. My uncle was desirous I should obtain a much larger fortune, and I thought he would disin- herit me. But I did not care for that. I was richly rewarded by subsequent happiness. She had the sweetest, the most heavenly temper, and the sweetest breath." "Mrs. O'Con- nell," says Fagan, " was an exceedingly amiable, strong-minded woman ; and Mr. O'Connell, it was said, was dming her life guided very much by her advice." On one occasion, responding to a toast given in honour of his wife, O'Connell said : " There are some topics of so sacred and sweet a nature, that they may be comprehended by those who are happy, but cannot possibly be described by any human being. All that I shall do is to thank you in the name of her who was the dis- interested choice of my youth, and who was the ever-cheerful companion of my mauly years. In her name I thank you. And this tou may readily believe — for experience, I think, will shotir to us all, that a man cannot battle and struggle with the maiigntiut enemies of his country, unless his nest at home is warm tind comfortable — unless the honey of Jiuman Hfe is commended by a hand that he loves." Certain observations of O'Connell on the manner in which courtship should be carried on, serve at once to illustrate the profound astuteness of his mental constitution and the mode in which he doubtless conducted his own courtship. " It iS inju- bi5 LIFE AND TIMES OF O CONNELL. dicious on the part of a lover," he said, " to offer marriage at an early period of his courtship. By this precipitation he loses the advantage which female curiosity must otherwise afford him, and in sapping his way to her heart discards a powerful auxiliary. He may be tender and assiduous, but should not declare himself until the lady's curiosity is awaked and piqued as to his intentions. In this way he awakes in her heart a certain interest concernmg him, which he may forfeit the mo- ment he proposes." Speaking of a friend (Tom Steele) who had proposed for a widow, he said : " As to his telling her that he was confident of brilliant political distinction, and holding out as a lure that she would be the sharer of his honours, it showed great want of tact — gi'eat want of knowledge of human nature. If he had tact he would have said, ' I am opening a career of ambition ; perhaps I over-rate my prospects of success in public life ; but there is one thing which I deeply feel would essentially contri- bute to it, and that is domestic felicity.'' He should hava spoken this with a tender earnestness, and left her to conjec- ture his meaning. But instead of thus delicately feeling his way, he blurted out his trashy bag of successful ambition and fame and his offer of marriage all at once. Then as to rap- tures — why every woman past^ girlhood laughs at raptures. He had fine opportunities, but did not know how to make use of them." These remarks prove that if O'Connell was not a man of genius, he was at least a man of profound sagacity, and pos- sessed a wonderfal insight into the workings of the human heart. The coldness of his kinsmen and the pecuniary dijQQculties into which his portionless marriage plunged him, had the effect of arousing his giant-like energies, and rendering him ere long the most industrious man in Ireland. O'Connell knew — what many of his young countiymen forget — that the secret of the practical failure in after-life of so many promising young per- sons is, that they never learn that a man's capacity and suc- cess in the world is estimated, not by what he can do, but by what he actually acccomplishes. Thrown upon his own re- sources, O'Connell entered the battle of life with that animal energy and activity of mind which distinguished and sustained him during the brilliant meridian of his political career. The high estimation which the public and the profession placed on his services was the natural consequence of his habitual and systematic industry, and of the ambition which bm-ned I IFE AND TIMES OF O'CONNELL. 83 within him to attain distinction and a name. Feeling sen- sibly his responsibilities as a husband and a father, he de- voted himself to the pursuit of his profession and the study of the law with that iron will and patient perseverance which formed the mental complement of his large, ample, and massive frame. He gradually became an impressive and powerful ad- vocate. He was at once impassioned and discreet, vigorous and argumentative, forgetful of himself and zealous for his client — playful in his broad humour and prompt in his caustic wit, and always capable of applying some story fraught with ridicule, or affixing some stinging epithet ii-resistibly ludicrous to an opponent, which the annoyed and irritated victim could never shake off. With all this, O'Connell possessed a power of the deepest pathos, and thus was enabled to keep his au- dience alternately in tears and in roars of laughter. Standing before a judge and jury, it was impossible to conceive a more powerful advocate. Perhaps the faculty of moving the passions and feelings of a jury was never possessed in the same degree by any other orator. The deep melody of O'Connell's voice added force and dignity to what he uttered, and removed the effect which must be otherwise produced by a French pronun- ciation grafted on a Kerry brogue. The minor tones of his voice struck upon the heart with the solemn music of a dis- tant bell at nightfall. In this respect O'Connell enjoj'ed a marked advantage over Curran, whose melting thoughts and burning words were delivered in a shrill, cracked voice, with- out due pause or emphasis or variety of intonation. In the 3'ear of O'Connell's marriage, Emmet's rebellion broke out. Of that rebellion O'Connell expressed a disparaging opinion. He said: ''I ask you whether a madder scheme was ever devised by a Bedlamite ? Here was Mr. Emmet, having got together about £1,200 in money and seventy-four men, whereupon he makes war on George III. with 150,000 of the best troops in Europe and the wealth of three kingdc^ins at his command! Yv'hy, my dear sir, poor Emmet's scheme was as wild as anything in romance." Emmet's hopes will not appear so visionary if we recollect that he was promised the assistance of Napoleon I. Eelying on this promise, which he received alike from Bonaparte and bis mtiister, Emmet quitted Paris for Dublin in October, 1802. War with England, as Napoleon told him, was to break out in 1803, and the invasion of Ireland was to follow it. Emmet employed himself in' preparing for this invasion by es- tablishing a secret society, and swearing in numbers of reso- 84 LIFE AND TIMES OF o'CONNELL. lute adherents. The oath was kept with imdolable fidelity, and when the insurrection broke out the government was unac- quainted with the complot — at least, the lord lieutenant knew nothing of it. It was only when a magazine accidentally exploded in Patrick-street and precipitated Emmet into im- mediate action, that the Irish government measured with alarm the extent of its danger. Emmet had intended to wait till August, 1803 ; but this unforeseen accident left him no alternative but instantaneous insurrection. By this blaze of explosion he saw too clearly that nothing remained for him and his followers but to rush upon theii- tyrants, and to sell their own lives as dearly as possible. He summoned his fol- lowers, on the 23rd July, to rally round his standard in James' -street. When that day came they did not rally in suffi- cient number. Emmet expected the rising of the men of Dublin, the ad- vance of the men of Ulster, and the descent of the men of Wicklow. In all he was disappointed. The missive he hoped to send to Ulster could not be dispatched, and the message he forwarded to Wicklow was never delivered. As to Dublin — he was standing in his depot, surrounded by sworn partisans, when an excited messenger rushing in, exclaimed with breath- less haste : *' The soldiers — the soldiers are upon us !" *' If so," exclaimed Emmet, who was incapable of despair, " we shall sell our lives pretty dearly. Follow me !" Marching in the direction of the Castle, Emmet was fol- lowed — not by an army — but by a huddled, confused, scram- bling, and vociferous mob, who, self-willed and riotous, per- formed what he forbade and neglected what he commanded. In this state of huddled confusion they met the carriage of Lord Kilwarden, whom they pulled out and piked, in opposition to the frantic entreaties of Robert Emmet. The resistance of the Castle, which baffled the rebels, produced the abandonment of^is design. Obliged to fly in defeat, he concealed himself in Wicklow^ — returned to Harold's Cross — was betrayed, cap- tured, and hanged. Emmet seems to have been deluded into this movement by men who believed that without abortive rebellions Ii-eland could not be kept down. Among these we may reckon, it is alleged, the Earl of Meath and Lord Wycombe. In his ''History of the United Irishmen," page 484, third series, Dr. Madden gives us a brief summary of Robert Em- met's history. He says: "The means at the disposal of Robert Emmet were not adequate to the object he expected to LIFE AXD TIMES OF o'CONNELL. 85 accomplish. The time appointed for its accomplishment was mopportune. The strength and spirit of the nation were beaten down ; the power of their rulers was unbroken. . . . The chances of failure were far greater than those of success. The whole project of the insurrection was at the mercy of forty individuals employed in the several depots, and several hun- dreds of persons in Dublin and three adjoining counties, Wick- low, Kildare, and Wexford, who were cognizant of that project and the preparations that were making for its execution. And the treacheiy of a single individual in the secret of the chief conspirator must have involved the whole of his plans and preparations in ruin. The result of the outbreak, on the night of the 23rd July, clearly proved that there was no re- trieval for a single miscarriage and discomhtm-e — no retreat for chief or followers after a single defeat. No preconcerted measures that were practicable were devised for rallying men thrown into confusion, routed in an attack, or seized with panic in any rencontre ^ath the king's troops. There were military theories, indeed, on paper, but no men vdth. practical military ideas to carry them into effect. Everything depended on the success of a coiqy de main — on the seizure of the Castle, the Pigeon House, and some other places, few of which v/ere capaple of being defended or held in the event (which was certain of occm-ring) of being attacked by the military in such force as the garrison of Dublin had at its disposal. In the face of these facts, it is impossible to deny that the in- sm-rection of July, 1803, had no element of success in its plans and projects — that its attempt (terminating in failm-e) could not fail to be ruinous to all engaged in it, injurious to the country (as all abortive insurrections must be), and the occasion of bloodshed lavished in a hopeless cause. Morahtj-, wisdom, and patriotism, can hold but one opinion on the sub- ject of concocting a conspu-acy so circumstanced as this was, and attended with such results — it cannot be justified." "I learned from the example of the United Irishmen,' said Daniel O'Connell, "that in order to succeed for Ii'eland it was strictly necessary to work within the limits of the law and con- stitution. I saw that fraternities banded illegally never could be safe ; that invariably some person without principle would be sm^e to gain admission into such societies — who either for ordinary bribes, or else in times of danger for their own pre- servation, would betray their associates. Yes, the United Irishmen tausjht me that all work for Ireland must be done openly and above-board." It may, however, be alleged, as 88 LIFE AND TMES OF o'CONNELL. a defence of Irish trust- worthiness, that the oath administered by Emmet was kept with inviolable fidelity. It is like'^dse maintained that during the first five years of its existence, the conspiracy of the United L'ishmen was a perfect secret to the government. The fact is, that two classes of men — swords- men and gownsmen — have by tm'ns fought the battle of Irish freedom. These two classes, in lieu of disparaging, should mutually respect each other. Mr. O'Connell was a gownsman ; Robert Emmet a swordsman. The Irish nation, burning for liberty, alternately tries the craft of diplomacy and the com^age of battle — when one weapon is broken and flung aside, the other is taken up and wielded. The moment the swordsman was defeated in the person of Emmet, the gownsman advanced in the person of O'Connell. The moment O'Connell had marshalled the millions in the discipUne of Re- peal agitation, the fierce and warlike nature of the Irish people rushed up behind the gownsmen, pushed them aside, and fiercely took their places amid the shouts of the spectators. But whether with the pen, the tongue, or the pike, the smoul- dering battle in one shape or other has been going on for ages. "There is always a dumb war in Ireland," said O'Connell; and whether drilled by a young law}^er or an old soldier, the repealer is a nationalist — the nationalist a repealer : ** Still ! Freedom ! still ! thy banner torn but flying, Streams like a thunder- cloud against the wind." In the year 1803, O'Connell was still a member of the Lawj^ers' Corps, and constantly on duty. He himself tells us : " After I had stood sentry for three successive nights, Nicholas Purcell O'Gorman's turn came. He had recently been ill, and told me the exposure to the night air would probably kill him. * I shall be in a sad predicament,' said he, * unless you take my turn of duty for me. If I refuse, they'll accuse me of cowardice or croppyism ; if I mount guard, it will be the death of me!' So I took his place, and thus stood guard for six consecutive nights." The Irish aristocracy, in 1793, had granted the forty-shil- ling fi'anchise to the Irish people with the expectation of pos- sessing themselves of the conscience and the vote, as they had already in then- manifold tpanny possessed themselves of the food and clothing of their uneducated tenantry. Emancipa- tion had been conceded in an unsatisfactory way — in shreds, scraps, and patches. One hand was unchained, and the ty- rants were persuaded that the hand which was fi-ee would not loosen the hand that was manacled. This was an erroneous LIFE AND TIMES OP o'CONNELL. 87 persuasion. Though the efforts of the United Irishmen to sweep away in a mass the mountainous oppression which crushed and prostrated the countrj' — though the rebellion, with all its horrors, had silenced by its terrible interest all secon- dary considerations — though the feelings and claims of the Ca- tholics were lost m the clash of the national encounter, they were not altogether dead.- When the wounds and terrors of the rebellion began to be forgotten, the Catholic began to feel that he ought to rise, and he soon found, wdth a little more perseverance — that he could. But, in 1803 and 1804, the sus- pension of the Habeas Corpus Act obliged the Catholics to con- fine then' proceedings to select meetings at private houses. No meeting of any importance took place until 1805. At that meeting a petition for the total restoration of their still with- ' held franchises was proposed, discussed, and rejected by a Catholic majority of 336 to 124. The accession of the whigs to power, in the same year, seemed to justify a second effort ; but it terminated abortively. Fagan explains the failure of the Catholics when — in his ''Life of O'Connell" — he says: ** There was an enoimous amount of jealousy existing among the leaders, and they were not ^villing to allow the genius of one man to outstep the limits suited to their tamer and less expanded intellects. There was an aristocratic feeling about them little in unison with the liberalizing tendency of O'Con- nell's mind." The duplicity and falsehood of the whig admi- nistration worked with pernicious effect on the Catholic com- munity, and pulverised them into a heap of uncementing sand. The baneful influence of their aristocracy, through whom the whigs acted, paralysed the political exertions of the Catholics The Fiugals, Gormanstowns, and Trimles- tons plotted at the Castle to nullify their own proceedings at the committee ; and looking in one direction — they rowed towards an opposite point. As they believed their order bom to rule, their esijrit du corps compelled them to regard with aversion the uprisings of the commonalty. When Lord Fingal in the Castle betrayed the secrets of the committee, his dupli- city to his religious brethren was compensated in his opinion by his fidelity to his brethi-en in the peerage. Indeed, no member of the aristocracy can possibly be an honest politi- cian, because when true to the people he must become a traitor to his own class. The Habeas Corpus Act, which had been suspended from 1804, came once more into force in 1807. Guarded by the * Wyse's " Catholic Association."' 8« LIFE AND TIMES OF O CONNELL. jegis of this law, O'Conneil appeared on the public platform. In that year we find his name in the Catholic Committee which was appointed on the 7th February. In that year an opportu- nity was afforded to O'Conneil of animating the Catholics with his eloquence, and encouraging them by his bold example, to shake off the timid, vacillating, and crawling policy which theii' shuffling aristocracy countenanced. On the 17th Fe- bruary a meeting to petition parliament was held in the Ro- tundo. ■ The chair was taken by Lord Fingal, who, together with Lord Ffi'ench, put forth all their influence to baffle the object for w^hich the meeting was summoned. This meeting clearly proved that nothing is so ruinous to popular success as aristocratic patronage. By an insidious motion of Lord Ffrench's, the aristocracy sought to strangle the motion for adopting a petition and forwarding it to parliament. Lord Ffrench plausibly proposed that the consideration of the peti- tion should be postponed until the feelings of the rural districts should be ascertained. The eloquence of O'Conneil boldly re- sisted this astute proposition. The herculean vigour of the young demagogue trampled on the serpent-like craft of the sub- dolous peer. In masculine reply to Lord Ffi-ench's declaration that " to forward the petition would be to injure the empire," O'Conneil dashed in the whitening face of the quailing shuffler this verbal thunderbolt : " WTiat ! is it an injury to the empire to tender it the service of five millions of subjects ? Can the total devotion of their talents and their property, their persons and their blood, be termed an injury to the empire ? Is the amplification of the limits of the constitution, so as to take within its pale myriads of its children, whose devoted loyalty and unshaken fidelity the legislatui-e has solemnly acknow- ledged — is this an injury to the empire ?" Having laughed to scorn and swept away the ridiculous idea that the Cathohcs sought to subvert the Act of Settlement, he drew a graphic picture of the character, prejudices, and feelings of the English nation. "Expediency as well as right," he exclaimed, "pre- sent policy and eternal justice require our emancipation. Let us then demonstrate these truisms. Let us renew our peti- tions, until prejudice and bigotry fade before the meek torch oi truth. There is an adventitious point of view in which I would place the subject before the EngHsh nation. I tell them that our emancipation was delayed by our union with their legislature. Our Protestant counti-jTnen in our domestic parliament would have long since conceded what remained to be granted. The Union, with rude violence, and amid the LIFE AND TBIES OF o'CONNELL. 89 wreck of the country, swept away every opportunity of kind- ness and liberality on one hand — every occasion of gratitude and affection on the other. It was a small but wretched con- solation that no Catholic sat in the parliament that voted away the country. The Union was a measure in its eveiy conse- quence deeply deplorable. The devastation it had produced had been frequently foretold : " Ne'er were prophetic sounds so full of woe." Lord Fingal begged to suggest that the Union had no con- nexion with the subject before the meeting. Mr. O'Connell would submit to any suggestion from the chair, but it was impossible for him to stand over the gi^ave of his countiy without shedding on it a tear. However, the question of the Union appeared to him to have some connexion with the subject in debate. The English people were aware that Eman- cipation was promised if the Union were carried ; but that was an argument he would not use. He never would consent to the sale of his country — he despised the man who would ac- cept any boon as its price. Having alluded to the antagonism of the lang, he continues : *' Away, then, with all the objections to the presentmg a petition — there should be no delay. The man does not merit freedom who would hug his chains for a day. The present administration has emancipated the negroes ; they would be entitled to praise as having done their duty if, instead of enabling his majesty to select admirals and generals from our body, they introduced a clause into their Slave Bill to raise Catholics to the rank of freemen. "=!^ * Until the Act of Union, the military and naval establishments of Ireland were distinct and separate from those of Great Britain. The Irish law of 1793 admitted Catholics to hold commissions in the navy and army of Ireland, when the laws of England rigidly excluded all CathoUcs from the right of bearing offices in either service. If a ship of war anchored in an Irish roadstead the toleration of the land was wafted over the ves- sel — hherahty reigned on hoard. The law of England did not apply to a ship in Irish waters ; hut the moment that vessel sailed into an English port, the hght of hherty vanished and the dark cloud of intolerance settled gloomily over the crew. The Irish secretary (Hobart), when in- troducing into the Irish parUament the Cathohc Bill of 1793, said that England would follow then- example, and admit Roman Catholics to hear commissions in Great Britain — but she did not. Dr. Duigenan seemed to know better, for he prophesied that the relaxations of 1793 would prove improfitable to the Cathohcs. " The moment any regiment on the Irish estabhshment," said he, " shall be ordered out of the kingdom, all com- missions of Catholics serving therein will be instantly void." This pro- phecy, suggested by fanaticism, was reahsed by experience. The Enghsh law declared, " That every person who shall be admitted into any office 90 LIFE AN^l/ TIMES OF O'COXNELL. The treacherous opposition of the Catholic aristocracy was withdrawn before the energetic attack of the young tribune. His rising which, hke that of the sun, was to enlighten and beautify Ireland, made the crawling creatures shi'ink into con- genial obscurity. O'Connell explained then' questionable conduct in a conver gation with O'Neill Daunt, which that gentleman has published in his " Personal Recollections." " The Catholic aristocracy," said O'Connell, '' were jealous at seeing the leadership, which they were incapable of managing, taken out of their hands by law}^ers and merchants. Elibrts were occasionally made to control what they were pleased to deem the vulgar violence of our exertions. In 1807, a certain aristocratic banker visited the Catholic board one day, and delivered himself of some ad- vice that savoured suspiciously of Castle influence. I remem- ber that he accused the Catholic barristers of clamouring for Emancipation merely in order to qualify themselves for office. E opposed him, of course, and I had a stout ally in Peter Bodkin Hussey, who discarded all ceremony in his attack of the in- vader. Peter's speech was extremely characteristic of his sa- gacity, his coarseness, and his impudence. 'I understand this gentleman,' said Peter, 'just as well as if I was inside his head. He has talked about Catholic barristers ha^dng per- sonal objects to gain. I tell him there are Catholic bankers who have personal objects to gain. I won't mince the matter, and I boldly declare my con\'iction that his advice is dishonest. I tell bim. moreover, that although I only chastise him verbally now in the hope he may take himself quietly off; yet I would civil or militaiy, or shall receive any pay, salary, fee, or M-ages, by reason of any office, &c., shall publicly take the oath of supremacy, and take, and subscribe the declaration against transubstantiatiou, and also receive the sacrament pubUcly, under a penalty of £500 and disability to hold the office." * A similar law, Mdth still hea^^er penalties, had been enacted in Ireland, and remained in full force until 1793, when it was repealed by an Irish statute. But the disqualifying lav.s of Great "Britain remained in full force in 1808. A palpable incongruity resulted from this state of the law — as the Catholic ensign or midshipman, if removed from the Irish to the English station, was still subject to the Enghsh test act, and compelled to apos- tatise, or abandon the profession of his choice. This shows us that, guided exclusively by sordid impulses, the aristo- cracy were utterly wanting in honesty and principle. They avowed that Catholics were fit to be entrusted with arms, and demonstrated it by the fact that Catholics were soldiers ; but the same aristocracy declared that they were not fit to be entrusted v.ith aims, and proved it by the fact that Cathohcs were not officei-s. LIFE AKD TIMES OF o'CONNELL. 91 hesitate just as little to chastise him personally if he should come here again on a similar errand.' The intruder took the hint and decamped. Peter Bodkin Hussey," continued O'Connell, '' was as rough-tongued a fellow as I ever met — saying ill-natured things of everybody, and good-natured things of nobody. He piqued himself on his impertinence. "=i^ The CathoHc aristocracy whom O'Connell alludes to as inca- pable of managing Catholic affairs were Lords Fingal, Ffrench, «nd Trimleston. The first was a traitor, the second a brute, tie third a coxcomb. f The correspondence of Sir Arthur Wel- lesley, aftei-wards Lord Wellington, while L'ish secretary, re- moves all doubt as to Fingal' s perfidy to the Catholics who confided in him. O'Connell seems to allude to Fingal where he says : " When I took the helm I found all the Catholics full of mutual jealousies — one man trying to outrival another — one meeting rivalling another — the leaders watching to sell them- selves for the highest penny. "| His lordship's condemnation is to be found in the words of Fagan : "Of this we are certain — Lord Fingal was a vetoist." The brutality of Lord Ffrench was painted in the revolting features of his coarse, sallow, and half savage face. As you listened to his roar you were reminded of Mirabeau's description of himself, he seemed a shaved tiger. His ungainly and over-gi'own frame — the swing- ing awkwardness of his slouching gait, and the grating dis- sonance of his Connaught brogue, suggested that if accident had made him a lord, natm-e had intended him for a plough- man. His malicious sarcasms and loose slovenly garb — - his animal energy and clownish wit, his whine and his grunt, jarred painfully on the feelings of his auditors, awakening emo- tions of pain, surprise, and dislike, which disqualified him for the leadership he aspned to. If Lord Fn-ench was almost horrible, Lord Trimleston was nearly ridiculous. Though really an Irish lord he appeared to be a French dancing-master. He exhibited the simial jerk, the self-complacent affectation, and the whifiling activity, which so often characterize individuals of that jigging profession. He was all grimaces, petulance, frills, powder, and pretension. He loved to speak of the "patrician blood of the Barnewells'* with lofty pride — not of the miserable slavery of the unfortunate Catholics with anxious S3TQpathy. His person, his manners, and his accent, werj disagreeably and extravagantly French. * O'Neill Daunt's " Personal Recollections." t Wvse's " History of the Catholic Association." i Uid. 92 LIFE AND TniES OF o'CON^^:LL. A younger son, Lord Trimleston had studied medicine in France, where he turned Catholic. His elevation to the peer- age was the consequence of his elder brother's unexpected death. His associates in France were French noblemen, and from them he imbibed the hatred of popular movements and of self-assertion in the people — the disgust, loathing, and abhor- rence of democracy, which rendered him entii'ely unfit for the functions of demagogue in L'eland. In all he said and did there seemed to be an indescribable air of puppyism, sheathed with French pohsh, but not the less disagreeable. In short, he had nothing in common with Irishmen save their creed — none of that hearty s3Tnpathy with popular enfranchisement which makes the unsophisticated Irishman hail the struggles of op- pressed nationalities with ardour, and cheer them with cordial good wishes. These men of title might be ornamental — they were unquestionably useless. The truly efficient men — the men of power — bore no titles, had no coats of arms, were mere barristers and men in trade. One of these was Mr. Scully. Author of an able work upon the penal laws, which has been erroneously attributed to Charles Butler of Lincoln's Inn, Mr. Scully did much but spoke little. Unlike the Catholic aristocracy he was not ostensibly before the pubhc, but he was the real ruler of the Catholic body. He was scarcely calculated to attain popularity, but if his tongue was not fluent his intellect was masculine. The feelings of his powerful mind were not discoverable in the features of his impassive face ; he was grave, secret, cautious, and profound. Before submitting an arrangement to the passions of the multi- tude he weighed it, in the calm retirement of the closet, with slow and patient deliberation ; but when his sound judgment had recognized its practical utility, neither the withering sneer of polished aristocracy, nor the stormy clamom'S of the bois- terous crowd could shake his resolution or persuade him to relinquish it. He had the mind of a diplomatist — full of crooked statesmanship and astute strategy; although plain in person, he was generally respected, and always absolute. Mr. Hussey was another. Mr. Hussey carried into effect in public w^hat IMi'. Scully had resolved on in private. The gay and volatile nature of Mr. Hussey foi-med a striking con- trast to the grave and massive solidity of Mr. Scully's rather ponderous character. Others might open the battle of debate with more abilitj^, but no man in the entire body was better fitted than Mr. Hussey to the guerilla warfare of a desultory contest. He was expert at sudden sarcasm, could level an LIFE ANI> TIMES OF O CONNELL. 93 appropriate anecdote ^vith sharp effect, and disappear fi-om the search of his adversary in the very moment he inflicted the wound. His red hair and twinkling bhie eye were not less Irish than his phraseology. The manner and matter of the entire man were remarkably Hibernian. He looked, smiled, and acted the brogue. An anecdote told by O'Connell himself ^ill illustrate his character: '* It was not a bad reply he made to another impertinent fellow who hailed him one day in the Four Coui'ts, sajdng, ' Peter, I'll bet you a guinea that you are a more impertinent rascal than I am.' ' You'd win your gui- nea,' answered Peter ; ' I am certainly the more impertinent. You are only impertinent to those you know won't knock you down for it ; but 1 am impertinent to everybody.'" Mr. Clinch was a man of very different appearance and cha- racter. He would have been venerated, in the olden days of black-letter decisions and portly brass clasped folios, as a man of singular and recondite learning. He was, however, too doc- trinal, too dogmatic, too full of Teamed saws and nice prece- dents for the fierce and fervent realities of ordinary political life. In an assembly of ardent and inquiring Irishmen, whose feelings too often travel faster than their reason, and who re- quired no quotation from learned authors to prove to them the grievances which they had found written in deep and en- dming letters in their own hearts, Mr. Clinch's eloquence and learning often proved ''weary, stale, flat, and unprofi- table."* Dr. Dromgoole was another instance of this morbid appe- tite for learned obscurities. The weapon he delighted in was the double-edged sword of scholastic dialectics. His armoury was almost exclusively from the Vatican. His lips were pon- derous, his eyebrows large and bushy, and his broad, sallow features spread over an immense head. Such were the men who, in the commencement of 1808, began to believe that silent submission opened to them no hope. These men formed the '* Catholic Committee." They met in January, 1808, Lord Fingal in the chair. In all such meetings the question was, whether they should petition or not — whether they should ask for liberty, or lie down in lethargic repose. The question was not, as in more recent times, whether they should petition or fight, but whether they should solicit or be silent. The Catholic body was divided on this question. *' We ai'e called upon to decide," said Mr. Keogh, " whether the petition of the Catholics of L'eland shall * Wyse's " Catholic Association." 94 LIFE A^'D TIMES OF o'CONNELL. be forthwith sent to England by our noble cbairman, to bo presented to the imperial parliament." Almost invariably the aristocratic members were hostile to petitioning ; almost invariably the people were in favom- of agi- tation. The aristocracy did not say, "You must not petition at all;" they merely said, '-'Not yet." The time was fast ap- proaching, however, when another " surge of men" was to rush up behind those committee men, more successful because more audacious, and substitute for their timid councils and vacilla- ting efforts, loftier questions and a more open, masculine, and daring policy. Meantime the assemblages of the committee were generally private. They did not parade the power of the Catholics in monster meetings, but in the narrow precincts of a private room consulted Lord Fingal. ]\Ii\ O'Connell said: "The Catholics of every part of Ire- land had been consulted ; their sentiments as to the propriety of petitioning had been required by letter. Numerous answers had been received from the most respectable persons in all the counties, who all concm-red in this one opinion — that the peti- tion should be forwarded without the smallest delay. In some parts the Catholics had already gone fm'ther — meetings had been held in the cities of Cork and Waterford, and resolutions to that effect entered into — nay, the petition had not onl}" the good wishes of our liberal and enlightened Protestant brethren of Iceland, but some of them had expressed their sentiments by a public resolution ; he alluded to that of the gentry of the county of Tipperary. Their conduct — patriotic as it was ami- able, useful as well as benevolent — was the theme of general ad- miration. He regretted that he could not speak of it in terms according with the gi*atitude of his heart. It reminded him, however, of that affectionate attention and care for. the rights of Irishmen which had induced the Irish Protestants of the present generation to lighten the fetters of the Catholic, and totally to emancipate the Presbyterian — a wise and magnani- mous policy, which would have long since restored the Catho- lic to complete fi'eedom, had their cause and their country been left m the hands of Irish Protestants (loud and repeated applause). Under those circumstances nothing but disunion among themselves could ever retard the Catholic cause. Divi- sion, while it rendered them the object of disgustto their friends, would make them the scorn and ridicule of their enemies." The year 1808 was eminently auspicious to CathoHc mani- festation. Austria had fallen, and Prussia had perished pn the field of Jena. Oui- two islands were forced into temporary LIFE ASTf TDIES OF O'CONNELL. 95 nnanimity by the dangers wtiich tlireatened them. The op- pressors of the Irish were rehictant to depend exclusively on religious schism to prop a falling empire. Apprehension was excited, and liberality was the temporaiy result. This appre- hension was not ill-founded, for the prohibitoiy system was at work, and Napoleon in the ascendant ; and all Europe, mar- shalled by one man, was pitted against two islands. As a con- sequence, the Marquis of Headfort, the Earl of Ormond, the Earl of Meath, the Earl of Bessborough, Viscounts Clifton, Dillon, and a hundred more of the landed proprietaiy of the country, signed a ''Protestant declaration" in favoui' of Catho- lic relief. Sentiments of the most liberal and enlightened description were published to the world by the capitalists of Newry. The Catholic question, which imperilled the interests of England, seemed likely to be settled by the unanimity of aristocratic Ireland. Events soon proved, however, that this manifestation of liberality was paraded by the aristocracy for temporary purposes. To secure Catholic loyalty, while the empire was imperilled by France, the flame of hope was kindled in the breasts of the Catholics ; but that flame soon languished when the Cathohc petition, agi-eed to in Dubhn and adopted generally by the Catholics throughout Ireland, was refused ad- mission into the House of Commons. It was alleged as a reason for this objection that the signatures were not genuine. This was admitted by the Catholics, who asserted that the names of persons ignorant of wi'iting were aiSxed — at their own request — to the petition. In the same year, on the 25th May, the same petition, with signatures, which were unquestionably genuine, was presented to the same legislature. The sentiments of the Cathohc body were contained in that petition. The principal argument which Grattan employed in his speech was furnished by the dangers which menaced the empire. The war of France — the power of Napoleon — he said, should produce cordiahty in co-operation. He appealed exclusively to the selfishness of the body he addressed. The right of suffrage had been given to the CathoHcs; they voted at elections and formed part of the constituency. With the exception of fifty situations and all seats in parliament, they were admissible to every military and civil oflice. From those they were shut out be- cause, as was falsely alleged, they were perjm-ers on principle, and could not be bound by the obligation of oaths. In other words, the constituencies of counties, and part of the army and navy, consisted of men depraved by their religion, 96 LIFE AND TDIES OF O'CONNELL. in whom no faith could be reposed. The Catholics, on the other hand, argued with much erudition, that whatever Popes may have practised or some authors taught, such practices and doctrines were condemned and reprobated by the Catholic Church. The only part of America that did not fly from England was Catholic Canada. Their Austrian ally was Catholic. Sweden excepted, England had not one Protestant ally on the face of the globe. If the Protestant religion did not secure them one ally abroad, and if it excluded the full assistance of then- fellow- subjects at home, their country was not allowed a fair chance for its safety. *' I have a proposition to make," continued Mr. Grattan — *'a proposition which the GathoHcs have authorised me to make. It is this — that in the future nomination of bishops, his majesty may interfere and exercise his royal privilege ; and that no Catholic bishop shall be nominated mthout the entire approbation of his majesty. In France the king used to name ; in Canada the king names ; it is by no means incompatible with the Catholic religion that our king should name." The CathoUcs who authorized Mr. Grattan to make this pro- position must have been the perfidious aristocracy, who, " will- ing to wound but yet afraid to strike," were anxious to sell their religion for a parliamentary seat, the magisterial bench, or the sheriff's authority. "Let me ask," said Grattan, "is an exclusion from the two houses of parliament nothing ? from the shrievalty nothing ? fi'om the privy council nothing ? from the offices of state nothing ? from the bank nothing ? Is it nothing to becensm'ed, schooled, and suspected?" It was much — so much, in the opinion of the Catholic aris- tocracy that they were willing, for the emolunients and dignity of those situations, to subject the sacred function of the apos- tolic mission to its persecutors, re^ilers, and sworn enemies — to sell the libei*ty of the Church for a mess of pottage. Fortunately the general voice of the unsubsidised people drowned in its clamours the insidious whispers of perfidious privilege. To the hierarchy, says Plowden, that clamom'ous voice "proved an awful warning." On the 14th September, a regular national synod of the Catholic prelates assembled in Dublin came to the following resolutions : " It is the decided opinion of the Koman Catholic prelates of Ireland that it is inexpedient to introduce any alteration in the canonical mode hitherto observed in the nomination of the Ii'ish Roman Catholic Bishops, which mode long experience has proved to hi unexceptionable, wise, and salutary. LIFE AND TlilES OF o'COXNELL. 97 '*Tliat the Eoman Catholic prelates pledge themselves to adiiere to the rules by which they have been hitherto uniformly guided — namely, to recommend to his Holiness only such persons as are of unimpeachable loyalty and peaceable con- duct." These synodical resolutions against the Veto were signed by twenty-three prelates. They were received with shouts of rapture by the people. The leader of the great national army of the disqualified — Daniel O'Connell — in this dispute concuiTed with the bishops and the people. Deserted as they were by the recreant aris- tocracy, by the eloquent Grattan, and all their parliamentary friends — their prospects discom-aging and dismal — his power- ful assistance was indispensably necessary. To stem the tide of opinion, which, surging in from eleyated quarters, threatened to overwhelm the religion of his country, required the uncom- promising character and invincible courage of Daniel O'Connell. Events elucidatory of the manner in which Britain governs Ireland occurred immediately after this synod. To punish the bishops for the virtue they had exhibited, government resolved to appal them vriih. Orange manifestations. Orangemen held a meeting in Dawson-street, Dublin, on the 15th September, the day after the opening of the synod. In this truculent as- sembly, J. C. Beresford, James Verner, Dr. P. Duigenan, and a representative of seventy-two English lodges, appeared. They not only resolved in this meeting to exterminate the Catholics, but to expel any member who refused to swear — so far as lay in his power — to exterminate them. ''From the most respectable authorities I have it," said O'Connell, at a Catholic meeting which took place subsequently, "that Orange lodges are increasing in diflerent parts of the country with the knowledge of those whose duty it is to suppress them. I have been assm-ed that the associations in the north are re- organised, and that a committee of these delegates in Belfast have printed and distributed 500 copies of their new constitution. This I have heard h'om excellent authority; and I should not be surprised if the attorney-general knew it. Yet there has been no attempt to disturb these conspu-ators — no attempt to • visit them with magisterial authority — no at- tempt to rout this infamous banditti. Perhaps my information is false ; if so, I give the government an opportunity to rebut the charge." During a flying visit which O'Connell paid to his native county, he attended a meeting on the tithe question about 5 98 LIFE A2fD TIMES OF O'CONNELL. this time. At the meeting in question he succeeded in turning into complete and painful ridicule the well-prepared addross of one of the previous speakers. It was the fii*st exhibition of his powers as an orator which he had made in his native count3^ The upholders of the tithe system at this meeting, " Safe from the bar, the pulpit, and the throne, Were touched and shamed by ridicule alone." The statements and arguments of " parsons much bemused ■^ath beer," which were paraded by their friends, were answered and overturned by O'Connell, who produced a decided impres- sion on the assembly. He laughed to scorn the gi-eedy avarice of the clerg-y of the Establishment, who insisted on taking a full tithe of the farmer's potatoes. He argued that if they took his staff of life out of his hands, they should cai-ry the peasant on their shoulders. O'Connell carried triumphantly the anti- tithe resolutions. A glance in this place at the condition of the Catholics — the sufferings which they endured — mil enable us to appreciate the services the Irish received at the hands of O'Connell. At that time a fountain v/hich supplied water to the inha- bitants stood in Kevin-street. A group of idle boys decorated it fantastically with green boughs and garlands. The rage of the Orangemen was ai'oused by their childish hilarity; but when on the evening of that day a bonfire blazed harmlessly in the same street, and was encircled by a cluster of careless youths and jocund girls, the rage of the Orangemen darkened into murderous fmy. Five of these fanatics secretly seized their fii'elocks, loaded them with ball, and proceeded with rapid steps and louring brows to the scene of childish enjoy- ment. The ruddy flame was thro^rtdng its flickering glare on the guileless faces of the thoughtless gi'oup, gossiping or gambolling innocently round the rude fire, when the dreadful explosion of fire-arms was heard beside them. It is impossible to describe the scene that followed — the screams that issued from the dismayed and scattering crowd as one of the group, shot through the brain, fell dead upon the spot — and several others, wounded, screaming, and agonizing, were hurled to the ground, writhing with pain or fainting in agony. It was a dreadful spectacle ! but perhaps the five assassins — hurrying off" in guilty haste and conscious culpability from the vengeance they had provoked and the justice they had insulted, with black murder disfiguring their appalling countenances — pre- sented the most dreadful feature in the deplorable transaction. Horrible as this atrocity may appear, it was not without its LIFE AND TIMES OF O'CONNELL. 99 parallel. At Corinshiga, within a short distance of Newry, a considerable number of men, women, and children were grouped beside a bonfire on the evening of the 23rd June, 1808. Piound a pole adorned ^dth garlands a group of dan- cers, linked hand in hand, were tripping it featly adjacent to the fire. In that happy and thoughtless circle all was jest, laughter, and hilarity, w^hen eighteen linen- weavers, fully armed and accoutred as yeomen, crept in silence to the spot, halted at the command of their sergeant, and at his murderous words, "Present — fire!" levelled their muskets, and shot seve- ral of the merrymakers, one of whom was killed on the spot. The aristocracy — or, as they are vaguety and vulgarly termed, the government, absolutel}^ refused to punish or even detect these atrocious murderers — a circumstance which rendered them as culpable as the assassins themselves. It was in vain that the magistrates of Newry sent to the Hue and Cry a pro- clamation or advertisement. The government refused to in- sert it. In vain did several of the Corinshiga Catholics pre- sent tliemselves trembling before the magistrates, and swear on the Evangelists that they and their alarmed families were in constant fear for the safety of their persons and properties. Marching, with flying colours and glittering arms in defi- ance of the Catholics, in jppen day, to the house of the be- reaved father of the youth they had butchered, the a*rmed murderers, by way of bravado, fired a volley over the house, the thunder of which threw the mother of the victim, whose heart was bleeding for the loss of her son, into violent convul- sions. The aristocracy were in league with the assassins, and all efiorts to punish them proved fruitless. The fate of " Jack of the PtOads," as related by O'Connell himself, may shed a light on the condition of Catholic Ireland in 1808. ''Jack of the Roads," we may premise, was an idiot who, covered with tatters and apparently half-star^^ed, was ac- customed to keep pace with the Limerick mail-coaches. " He once made a bet of four-pence and a pot of porter," said O'Con- nell, "that he would run from Dublin to Limerick, keeping pace with the mail. He did so ; and when he was passing through Mountrath, on his return, on the 12th of July, 1808, flou- rished a gi'een bough at a party of Orangemen who were hold- ing their orgies. One of them fired at his face — his eyes were destroyed — he lingered, and died — and there was an end to ' Jack of the Eoads !' " "Was the ruffian who fired at him punished?" asked his secretary. 100 LIFE AND TIMES OF O'CONNELL. *' Oh, no ! To punish such an offence as that was not pre- cisely the policy pursued by the goYernment of that day." The military semce at that time was crowded with Catho- lics;- but the conscientious soldier who refused to attend Protestant worship was subjected to severe and rigorous punish- ments. A solitary instance may serve to illustrate this dread- ful form of religious persecution. Patrick Spence, a private in the County Dublin Militia, well known to be a Catholic, was required to attend divine service in a Protestant church. Plunged into the black-hole for re- fusing to comply, he ventured to wiite a letter to his com- manding officer, representing that he was guilty of no breach of discipline in obeying the dictates of his conscience. By way of answer he was brought before a court-martial and charged, not with his real offence which was refusing to go to chm'ch, but with writing a letter which was disrespectful and mutinous. For this alleged offence the Catholic soldier was sentenced to receive 999 lashes ! He was led out and stripped — his bare back was exposed — his hands tied up to the red triangle — ^the scourges were ready — the di'ummers prepared — and the mili- tary martyr was about to endure a fatal punishment, when an offer was made him to commute it for an engagement to enlist in a condemned regiment. It would be vain to attempt to de- scribe his feelings at this ignominious proposal. He revolted at the disgrace — but life is sweet, and after some hesitation he accepted the painfal alternative. Spence was transmitted to the Isle of Wight, in order to be sent to a corps constantly serving abroad. Such was the sentence of Spenee, and he was doubtless only one of a multitude subjected to like sentences. A community of feeling united the noblemen who controlled the army and the Orange rabble who shed blood in the to"«T.is — they mani- fested a unity of pm-pose and a harmony of action which filled the Catholics with well-founded apprehension. The aristocracy said to the Irish soldier : " Go to battle ; go fight for the safety of the Enghsh people, and in defence of the British constitu- tion — but remember, if you receive your death-wound jo\x are not to expect the consolation of religion in yom- dying hour. The minister of the Gospel shall pass you by as you lie gasping and expirmg on the earth ; he will go to administer the sacra- ment to a German Catholic ; but you are an Irishman, and shall not be reconciled to yom- God." It must be confessed that * \^Tien a British force first reached Portugal, under Sir John Moore, one-half of the privates consisted of Irish Catholics. — Plowden. LITE AXD TDIES OP O'COXNELL. 101 the malignity of demons was exhibited by the aristocracy when they deprived the Iiish soldier, at the moment of his dissolu- tion, of the means of preparing his soul to appear before the great tribunal. It was a cruel and ferocious mode of exhibit- ing that fanatical hatred of Catholicity which is so deeply rooted in the hearts of om* i*uling classes. The revolting bai'barity of the Orangemen's oath could only be equalled by the disgusting profanity of the well known toast with which they invoked the " assassin of Glencoe," when pour- ing out, in midnight orgies, libations to his memorj^ : " To the glorious, pious, and immortal memory of the great and good Iving William, v\-ho saved us from Popery, slavery, arbitrary laws, wooden shoes, and brass money. May he who would not drink the toast on his bare knees be damned, crammed, and rammed, with flints and sparables, into the great gim of Athlone — blo\tn into the air, and fall into the bottom- less pit of hell — the key in an Orangeman's pocket!" Their sanguinary zeal for persecution is evinced by the hor- rible profanity of the language of their reveliy. In the savage mirth of their impious festivity they forget that they are com- pletely in the power of the Irish Catholics exiled to America, who can overwhelm them with beggary whenever they like, by shutting in their faces the gates of their American market, and, by preventing the sale of their linen in the United States, re- duce them not only to indigence, but to famine. Owing to them, Ireland, since the Union, is regarded as a province by the aristocracy of Britain ; and a province must be always much less under the control of the legislatm-e than at the disposal of a man. The chief secretary is the government of Ireland. Under the administration of the Duke of Richmond the Ii'ish chief secretary was Sir Arthur Weiiesley, afterwai^ds Lord Wel- lington; and to his culpable connivance the atrocities of the Orangemen must be, in a certain degree, attributed. He did not shed Irish blood with his own hand, but it is veiy doubtful if his connivance in Orange crime did not render him as criminal as the Orange murderers. Of this man O'Connell's opinion was very disparaging. " I have two faults to find with him — one is, that I never yet heard of his promoting any person in the army from mere merit, unless backed by some interest ; the second fault is, that he has declared that the only misfortune of his life is his being an Iiishman. There is a meanness — a paltriness in this, incompatible with greatness of soul. But abstractedly from sentiment, he may be right enough ; for great as his popularity and power have been in England, I have no 102 LIFE AND TIMES OF o'CONNELL. doubt they would have been infinitely greater if he had been an Englishman. John Bull's adoration would have been even more intense and devoted if the idol had not been a Paddy." On another occasion O'Connell said that he had in his pos- session an original letter of the Duke of Wellington's eldest brother, Marquis Wellesley, addressed to a Mr. Mo.ckler of Trim, in reply to an application which Mockler had made to the wi'iter (who was then Earl of Mornington) to procui'e a commission in the army for his son. The brother of the fu- ture victor of Waterloo apologises to Mockler for his inability to assist him, saying, " that commissions were so hard to be got that his brother Ai'thm-'s name had been two years upon the list, and he had not yet got an appointment." Of the Wellesley family the real name is said to be Cooley. Theii' history, which is veiy remarkable, merits peculiar atten- tion. There was a man named Garret Wisely who had been a trooper in Marlborough's wars, and who, being disbanded, re- tm-ned to his native countiy — the county Meath, in L-eland. As a travelled man who could tell sm-prising stories, a good shot, and a gi'eat diinker, he was received as an humble com- panion at the side-tables of the gentry of the country. But at none of their houses was he so welcome as at Dengan Castle near Trim, then possessed by a female named Cusack. This lady, to preserve an estate in the family, had married a cousin of her own, who was a moping simpleton, and therefore a cipher in the house. By this man she had no childi'en ; and fame, ever busy with reputation, babbled of the lady's par- tiality for the swaggering trooper who could drink deeply and swear loudly, and who, though he had never occupied a higher station on the muster-roll of his regiment than that of sergeant, was, through the coui'tesy of the squiraity, honoured with the rank of captain. These injmious rumours had been widely disseminated, when, to the horror of the neighbourhood, Mr. Cusack was one morning found stretched — pale, hfeless, and prostrate — beneath the window of his bed-chamber, from which he had, in the com-se of the night, leaped in the frenzj^ of fever. The widow was at first inconsolable, but notwithstanding her grief, when the usual and decent time of mom'ning had elapsed, she surrendered her fair person and her broad lands to the swaggering trooper who had served in the wars of Marlborough. The title of captain was instantly changed by the unanimous consent of the vicinage into that of colonel, which the Irish often confer on the owner of £2,000 a-j'ear, even though a civilian. This union the lady did not long survive. GaiTet LIFE AND TIMES OF O'COXNELL. 103 consoled himself for his loss in the possession of a good estate, which made him a person of consequence in his neighbourhood, and in the ovmership of half the borough of Trim, which en- larged the sphere of his importance. It may be proper in this place to state that GaiTet had no relations save two sisters, one of whom had married a poor labouring fellow named Branagan, who toiled from morning to night, and was all but starved on four-pence a day. She was therefore not to be kno"\Yn by her more fortunate brother, though she had selected a husband fi'om her own class. The other sister, with her brother's approbation, and subsequently to his elcTation, was married to a wealthy gi'azier in the county of Longford, named Harman, to whom Garret gave as a portion his bond for £1,000, some years' interest of which being due — for Garret without the intervention of law was reluctant to pay anyone — Harman imprudently sued the colonel and enforced payment, a cu'cumstance which put an end to all communica- tion between them. Gan-et having discarded his sisters and relatives, bethought him of an old croney or boon-companion of his, named Cooley. Cooley was a miserable byogue-niakcr residing at a place called Carbury in the county Kildare, w^ith whom he renewed his former acquaintance, and to whom he was in the habit of ren- dering some small kindnesses. This poor fellow had, as usual in Ireland, a lai'ge family, and amongst them a boy named Dick, who was painfully learning his father's wretched business, but for whom Wisely promised to do something better, and ac- cordingly bound the son of the brogue-maker to a kind of pastry-cook in Dublin. Shortly after the espiration of the boy's apprenticeship, his patron procured for him the civil em- ployment of cook at Dublin Castle ; and as he had a good voice and Garret had told him beforehand to be a Protestant, he was now installed as one of the choristers of Christ Church. Nor did Garret stop here ; he enabled him to rent a house in Church-lane, where he sold mutton-pies and distilled spear- mint, rose, and lavender-waters. Garret had lived riotously, and now became infirm. Dick Cooley, w^hose mind was eminently speculative, quitted his mutton-pies and went to Dengan Castle to soothe the declin- ing years of his benefactor, where he instantly invested him- self in the office of major domo or dominus factotum. At length Garret AVisely died, and Dick Cooley happened to discover a will by which he himself became jDOSsessed of all the estate, absolutely and without control or remainder. 104 LIFE AND TIMES OF o'CONNELL. It has been already stated that the borough of Trim was an appendage to the estate of Dengan, and by that ladder our hero (now Richard Cooley Wisely, Esq.), an aspiring genius, mounted to the viscoimty of Mornington. This Right Honourable Lord Viscount Mornington maiiied the daughter of an attorney named Slade. Her laclyshij) the viscountess had one son named Garret, in compliment to the benefactor of her lord (these small traits in gi'eat personages merit recording), which son changed the names of Cooley Wisely to Cowley Wesley, and afterwards to Westley, be- coming, by means of the said borough of Trim, Earl of Mor- nington. This noble lord had five sons : 1st — The marquis, who be- came Governor of India, and who in virtue of his dignity changed the names of Cooley Wisely, Wesley, or Westly, to CoUey Well-es-ley. 2nd — William, to whom a small gentleman of the name of William Poole stood godfather and left his estate — of about £300 a-year at the time — and who consequently called himself William Wellesley Pole — secretary for Ireland in 1809. 3rd — Ai'thur, an officer in the army of India, who, under the auspices of his brother the marquis, became governor of a city which he had not taken,';= and reaped laui-els which others had so^vn. 4th — Gerald Valerian, whose real name was Garret Wisely. As Gerald, however, is a celebrated Norman name, and Garret a plebeian appellation in Ireland, this fourth son of the Earl of MorniDgton laid aside the name he had received at the font, and assumed the romantic cognomen of Gerald Valerian. He was a parson by profession. 5th — The fifth son, Henry, was ambassador at some foreign court when O'Connell took a prominent part in public afiliirs. The Wellesleys assert that their ancestor came to Ireland with Henry II. ; but in the roll of officers and men who at that time invaded Ireland, no such name as either Wisely, Wesley, Westly, or Wellesley, can be found. Though the motto of the family is unica virtus necessaria (virtue alone is necessary), it is very doubtful whether, with- out Protestantism and the borough of Trim, then- virtue would have raised them from poverty, misery, and Carbury, to ordi- nary competence — not to talk of titled wealth. To return from the Protestants who oppressed, to the Catho- lics who sufiered : amongst the latter, during the years 1809 and 1810, much sluggishness and apathy existed. In the pub- * Seringapatam. LIFE AND TIMES OF O'CONNELL. 105 lie journals of the period they exhibit few symptoms of political life. They had lapsed into that drowsy torpor in which they are buried at present ; and, as at present, the possibility of political action was precluded by the absence of political harmony. It was not consonant with the dignity of Catholics, as their aristocracy asserted, to address a parliament by which their petitions had been previously rejected. This insidious sug- gestion had the desired effect — it mummified the Catholic body. The same sophistry, under another form, has been employed in recent times to produce the same inaction. O'Connell dashed it aside. He was aware of the horror with which the titled sensualists who rule the empu-e regard agita- tion. To them, he knew that the ii-ritation, the fret which pub- lic meetings occasion is more annoying than \iolent and open war. Hence it was that O'Connell taught one uniform doc- trine — agitate ! agitate ! agitate ! There are many reasons why agitation or petition to parliament should be distasteful to the aristocracy. It develops, in prodigious affluence, quali- ties in which they feel themselves lamentably deficient — energy of intellect and eloquence of speech qualities which make them shrink back and shudder in disgust, or rush for- ward in frantic anger. The events of that period prove the truth of this statement. "WTien they found that the Catholic people could not be fooled into inactivity througlj the instru-. mentality of the Catholic aristocracy — when they* found that O'Connell icoidd agitate, they flung aside the mask of hypo- crisy to take up the weapons of oppression — they endeavoured to wring, by unconstitutional violence, from the clutch of the despairing Catholic the poor privilege of petition. This alter- nate emploj'ment of the craft which deceives, and the persecu- tion which crushes, proves clearly that the aristocracy enter- tain a profound loathing and mortal dread of agitation. About this period the hamsters, animated by the example of O'Connell, began to rally round the Catholic standard. Though Catholics at heart, many of these men had taken the Protestant oath. At the ]f)eriod of the relaxation they threw off the mask, and avowed then- secret feelings more unmistake- ably, and by their ardour in urging the Catholic interests proved that their external conformity had resulted from tpannical necessity. This awakened in the Catholic party gi'eat hopes — in the aristocratic camp speechless alarm. Their facility as orators — theii' industry as men of business — their wily crafti- ness and secret stratagems — their open, broad, and at times daring statements of wrongs and grievances — their utter heed- 106 LIFE AND TDIES OF o'CO^'NELL. lessness of Protestant censiu'e, and stirring appeals to the pas- sions of the multitude — the ability with which they blazoned the sufferings, and the manly courage with which they stig- matised the tyrants of the people, filled with panic fear the ap- palled hearts of the dismayed aristocracy. They felt thstt men so shrewd were not to be befooled. They resolved to fling away disguise and use the crushing weapons of oppression. The malignity of Lord Clare had framed the Convention Act to extinguish the patriotic organization of the United Irishmen. For eighteen years that act had lain doiTaant. Secretly busy in fomenting their dissensions, and craftily tearing them asun- der by internal ditierences, the ai'istocracy had not deemed it desirable to incur the scandal of crushing the Catholics by open force. Now, however, the time had come to hm-l at their heads the slumbering thunderbolt moulded by Lord Clare. A Catholic meeting was held in the Assembly Rooms, Wil- liam-street, in 1809, at which Mr. O'Counell took a prominent part. At this meeting the speakers resolved to renew their efforts by establishing a general committee. They said, as a reason for its establishment, they were convinced "that no principle of justice, no force of reasoning is sufficient to coun- teract a malignant influence, v^-hich threatens the empire with general contamination and consequent destruction. Public delinquents and defrauders would put to hazard the existence of the reigning family and the integrity of the empire, rather than restore the people to the privileges of the constitution." In the formation of this committee the foresight of O'Connell was remarkably conspicuous. luiowing that the Convention Act was an instrument which unscrupulous hands might use for destructive piu'poses, he determined to wrest it from the grasp of his enemies. When it was resolved in the commit- tee that foi-ty-two persons should be appointed to prepare .a petition to parliament, it was proposed by Mr. O'Connell, and " Resolved unanimously, that the noblemen and gentlemen aforesaid are not representatives of the Catholic body, or any portion thereof." This resolution* suggested by the prudence of O'Connell, was laid aside by the folly or treachery of his associates. At a subsequent meeting a committee to petition parHament was appointed, consisting of ten gentlemen from each county, and thirty- six fi'om Dublin. This legal over- sight was at once pounced upon by Mr. Wellesley Pole, bro- ther to Wellington, who was then the secretary — that is, the government of Ireland. Conscious of the powers of O'Connell — aware of his formi- LIFE AND TIMES OF o'CONNELL. 107 dable talents — the long-siglited aristocracy took measures to meet, subvert, and crush them. In the dark chambers of their satanic counsels they determined to strangle, the Catho- lic Committee, and transfer the Irish militia to England. They felt that a Titan was ascending, and hoped by these two measures to darken his radiance and pull him from his sphere. By crushing the committee they expected to silence O'Connell, and by transferring the English militia to Ireland they hoped, should rebelhon result, to drown it in blood. They appre- hended popular tumult on the extinction of the committee — the waves of insurrection might be roused by O'Connell's elo- quence, and they determined to interchange the militia in order to repress its rage. The stern cruelty, and the delibe- rate caution of the British aristocracy, are e^-inced by these two measm'es. An important lesson may be gathered £i-o:ii these proceedings. Grattan said in the House of Commons, that he never presented a petition from the Catholics, but he was met by the objection that such petition did not speak the general^" sense of the Catholics. It is true, said the opposers of these petitions, here are a gi*eat number of names ; but still these persons bear a very small proportion to the whole body of Ca- tholics — and we cannot receive this petition as coming from that whole body. It v/as clear, therefore, that the general sense of that body could only be obtained by a fair and con- stitutional delegation ; and such a delegation had been allowed by the government of Ireland for several years past. The truth is, that so long as the management of the Catho- lic affairs was confided exclusively to titled noodles, the thun- ders of the Convention Act were allov/ed to slumber • but the moment the sincerity of the young Agitator was likely to take the place of the treachery or folly of aristocratic imbecility, the government determined to act. In a circular letter of Y/ellesley Pole addressed to the sherijSfs and chief magistrates, and dated 12th February, 1811, the Catholic Co'mmittee is stigmatised as "an unlawful as- sembly sitting in Dublin." This portion of the scrambling document is perfectly intelligible. The remainder, however, is clouded and muddy — a perfect maze of intangled and inex- tricable stupidity, which it is painfal to read and almost im- possible to comprehend. It resembles the penal laws as de- scribed by Young — it is ''worthy of the meridian of Barbary." It abounds in the barbarous jargon of stupid lawyers " be- mused with beer," heavy as lead, indigestible as Yorkshire 108 LIFE AND TIMES OF O'CONXELL. dumpling. You might fancy a night-mare had written it. — ■ " You are required," says this ckimsy document, addi-essing the sheriffs, "in pursuance of the provisions of an act of the 83rd of the Eng, c. 29, to cause to be arrested and commit to prison (unless bail shall be given) all persons mthin your jurisdiction who shall be guilty of gi^'ing, or having given or published any written or other notice of the election or ap- pointment in any manner of such representative, delegate, or manager as aforesaid ; or if attending, voting, or acting ; or of having attended, voted, or acted in any manner in the choice or appointment of such representative, delegate, or manager; and you are to communicate these dii-ections, as far as Hes in your power, forthwith to the several magistrates of the said coimty." The detestable stupidity of this bungling proclamation out- rages the laws of composition as much as the dictates of com- mon decency. The meaning seems to be (so far as we can extract it) that all persons should be imprisoned or arrested who elected, or took measm-es to elect, delegates to the Catho- lic Committee. For this interpretation the reader is indebted to his own penetration — not to the lucidity of the -vviiter. In a legal sense, the ch'cular letter was a blunder, because the offence, as described in the act, was not set forth in the docu- ment. Even the dignified solemnity of the lord chancellor was tempted to descend fi'om the lofty dulness of his elevated station to play the critic. His lordship said, in words which themselves might be criticised, that "the language was put together in a slovenly manner." The intellect of Wellesley Pole was not sufficiently strong to give verbal parturition to the mis-created conception of his^ malignant mind, and we may safely assert, that it is only under an aristocratic govern- ment (that political fraud) that a document so unintelligible could be issued by an official so elevated. But it is really not worthy of criticism. The speech of Wellesley Pole ia the House of Commons, relative to his circular letter, is very instructive ; it shows the pm'poses which Ii'ish lords contemplate when entering the arena of popular agitation — they pretend to struggle for popular privileges. He said — glancing at the history of the Catholics — "In 1809 the deliberations of the committee were always con- fined to a petition. That committee had declared its reso- lution not to transgress the Convention Act by an3ihing like a delegation. In 1810, the committee acted upon very different principles. It caUed an aggregate meeting of the Catholics, LIFE AND TniES OF o'CONNELL. 109 which came to a resolution — that the committee should have power to manage, not the Catholic petition, but Catholic affairs. Some of the members, Lord Fingal in particular, now began to apprehend that they were going too far, and some instances appeared of the committee taking into consideration certain supposed grievances under which Catholics laboured. A com- mittee of gi-ievances was then appointed, which met weekly, and imitated all the forms of the House of Commons. They grew more and more violent, till at length some of the more res2)ectable of the Catholics took the alarm, and a resolution was passed, but afterwards rescinded, that the committee, by pro- posing a delegation of ten members for each county, had ex- ceeded its powers. A petition was transmitted to England, after which Lord Ffrench said : ' Yom* commission is at an end ; you have exceeded your powers ; do you mean to create yourselves into a perpetual parliament?' and Lord Fingal was publicly attacked at a meeting for his moderation. The lord lieutenant had hitherto forborne to take notice of their proceedings, though he viewed them with an anxious eye ; but it now became the general opinion that it was high time for the government to interfere." This is a very instructive speech, showing, as it seems to do, that Fingal and Ffrench were equally false to the cause which they professed to advocate. The proposal was made m the House of Commons in May, 1811, to exchange the militias of the two kingdoms — apparently ^hat the Irish soldiers might be subjected to the operation of the penal law of England, and forced to go to chm-ch in opposition to their consciences. Against this measure O'Connell pro- tested in energetic terms. He proved lucidly, at an-aggi'egate meeting held in Fishamble-street, 28th May, that the proposed bill was unconstitutional — it was opposed to the very nature of the institution of the militia: " It was not a transfer which was proposed — it was an annihilation of the Iiish militia." O'Connell spoke so well, and the people so heartily concurred in the arguments he employed, that an addi'ess thanking him for his efforts was sent to him from Dingle. " "We are parti- cularly anxious to convey to you," it said, " our decided approbation of the manliness, candour, and perspicuity with which you have developed the tendency of the intended transfer of our militia, and displayed the machinations of those deluded men who style themselves ^Orangemen and Eurplemen. We^ request you to accept our most cordial thanks." This address was signed by Edward Fitzgerald on behalf of the clergy, 110 LIFE AND TBEES OF O'CONNELL. gentlemen, magistrates, and freeholders of Dingle." In liis reply, O'Connell said amongst other things, " For my part, I hate the Inquisition as much as I do the Orange and Purple system — and for the same reason. The man who attempts to interfere between his fellow-man and his Deity is, to my mind, the most guilty of criminals." It is ver}^ extraordinary, but perfectly true, that Grattan dis- approved of the petition which the meeting had adopted relative to the militia. It contained language, Grattan alleged, which rendered it unfit for presentation to parliament. *' It was the opinion of Mr. Grattan," said O'Connell, " that the petition was not in its present form presentable to the House of Com- mons, and to such an authority the highest respect was due. For myself, I have no hesitation in saying that I approve of the petition in its present form. I deny the assertion that it is a libel on the Protestants of England and Ireland. To them it has not the slightest nor the most remote application ; it is solely applicable to the bigotted proselytising system en- couraged and acted on by the present administration." The petition was subsequently examined and canvassed by the committee, who could see no reason for altering it ; but this examination produced delay, and during this delay the bill for interchanging the militia, hurried through the legislature, became the lav/ of the land. The real object of this bill has been elucidated hj an English writer, who seems to explain at the same time the reason o^ Grattan's objection. He says : " By means of this interchange of militia, a military force would be quartered in Ireland, not influenced b,y the local interests or prejudices of that country, which would be at hand to assist in the suppression of the dis- turbances that might arise from the disappointed hopes of the majority of the people, respecting their ci\il and religious pri- vileges. If the policy of subjecting them be once established, the policy of interchanging the militia can be no longer called in question." In the debates which this bill gave rise to, its real object was never even alluded to — a circumstance which places in clear relief the profound astuteness of the British aristocracy. Lord Fingal* and some other members of the committee * Lord B\Ton seems to have penetrated the character of Lord Fingal when, in reference to his knighthood, Byron wTOte : ^ " Will thy yard of hlue ribbon, pogr Fingal, recall The fetters from miUions of Catholic limbs ; Or has it not bound tnee the fastest of all The slaves who now hail their betrayer with hymns." LIFE AND TIMES OF o'CONNELL. Ill ha\ang met in defiance of the threat, were arrested and brought to trial. In the persons of Dr. Sheridan and Mr. Kirwan, the question was tested before a Dublin packed jury. They were indebted for their rescue to the man who had recommended them to avoid the danger. In this case Mr. O'Connell was counsel. The state trial commenced on the 21st of November, 1811. The whole question turned upon the meaning of the words in the Convention Act — " under pretence of petitioning." It was asserted by the crown counsel and chief justice that pre- tence meant purpose. They would fain revolutionize the En- glish dictionary to prevent an improvement in the condition of the Irish nation. The Catholics really met, as every one knew, for the bona fide purpose of petitioning. The crown counsel endeavoured to show that such a p}iupose was condemned by the Convention Act — that the meeting of delegates for the purpose of petitioning parliament was an illegal meeting. The counsel for the traverser maintained that, if delegates as- sembled really and truly to petition parliament, and not for a difierent purpose under the pretext of petitioning — then the meetmg was legal. Common sense and an intelligent juiy declared for the latter interpretation. The traverser was ac- quitted. As O'Connell was not a leading counsel in this case, he coniined himself merely to the cross-examination of the witnesses ;•:= but it was well known that the ^vhole plan of the defence was arranged by him, and to his masterly manage- 4lient was it in a great degree attributable that the accused were acquitted — Eoman Catholics acquitted b}" Protestants. Such an event was new and unexpected in Ireland, and created vast astonishment. Rejoicing in their victory, the Catholics determined to hold a meeting for the purpose of quietly petitioning for a re- dress of their grievances. A few days subsequently to the trial they accordingly^ assenibled in the theatre, Fishamble-street. The chair was still empty — Lord Fingal had not arrived — when they saw, to theu" astonishment, a police magistrate silently enter the room, and take his place beside the still vacant chair. They gazed with no little curiosity on this grim and surly Cerberus, standing silently beside the chair and frowning sternly on the collective leaders. Counsellor Hussey, with that moral courage which men of his profession have so often exhibited in the dark difficulties of Irish politics, stood up. and proposed that '^ Lord Fingal do take the chair." The harmonious voice * Huisli. 112 LIFE AND TIMES OF o'CONNELL. and comely features of O'Connell did not betray a single emo- tion as he seconded the proposal of Counsellor Hussey. The business of the meeting was about to commence ; Lord Netter- ville moved and Counsellor O'Gorman seconded the motion, that " the Catholic petition be now read," when the police magistrate interposed. " My LordFingal, I beg to state my object in com- ing here. His excellency the lord lieutenant has been informed that this is a meeting of the Catholic Committee, composed of the peers, prelates, country gentlemen, and persons chosen in the different parishes of Ireland. I come here by direction of the lord lieutenant, and as a magistrate of the city of Dublin I ask you, the chairman of this meeting, if that be the case, and if so, what is your object ?" " Our purpose in meeting here," said Lord Fingal, " is per- fectly legal and constitutional." " That is not an answer to my question." *' What is your question ?" queried Lord Fingal. "I ask," said the police magistrate, "is this a meeting of the Catholic Committee — a meeting composed of the peers, pre- lates, country gentlemen, and others in the city of Dublin ?" *' I certainly do not feel myself bound," said Lord Fingal, " to give 3'ou any other ansv>^er than that I have already given. Y\^e have met for the sole, legal, and constitutional purpose of petitioning ?" "My lord, I ask you, as chairman of this meeting, in what capacity are you met ?" " We are met to petition parliament." # " My lord, that is not an answer to my question. I hope I have leave to speak." This observation was called forth by some commotion amongst the people, which subsided on the outcry of several voices, exclaiming : "Hear the magistrate! Hear the magis- trate !" " 1 beg leave to ask your lordship again, is this a meeting of the Catholic Committee, constituted by the Catholic peers, prelates, country gentlemen, and the persons appointed in the several parishes of Dublin ?" "I am not aware," said the chairman, "that I can give you any other answer than that I have already given." " Then, my lord, your answer is that you are a meeting of Catholics assembled for a legal and constitutional purpose?" Here several persons exclaimed, " No, no ; there was no answer in such terms." " It is a most unusual thing," said O'Connell, " for any ma- LIFE Am) TIMES OF O'CONNELL. 113 gistrate to come into a public meeting to catechise, ask ques- tions, and put his own constructions upon the answers." " My lord," said the police magistrate, " am I to understand that you decline telling me fully what meeting you are, and the purpose of youi- meeting." "We are met," answered the chairman, "for a legal and constitutional purpose." " I -svish," returned the magistrate, *' to be distinctly under- stood. Am I to understand that you will give no other answer to my question ? Do you give no other answer ?" The speaker was here interrupted by a commotion amongst the people. A voice — '* Read the petition." Another voice — "Where's Mr. Hay ? Hear the magistrate !" " My Lord Fingal," said the magistrate, " I consider your declining to give me an answer as an admission that this is the Committee of the Catholics of Ireland." " As what passes here may be given in evidence," said O'Connell, "I beg leave to say that the magistrate has received a distinct answer to his question. It is not for him to distort any answer he has received into a meaning of his o^vn ; he is to take the words in their literal signification." " My lord, I consider youi' refusing to give any other an- swer," said the magistrate, " as anadmission of the fact of this being the Catholic Committee." " If you please to tell gentlemen that such is your belief," interposed O'Connell, "it is of no consequence to us. We are not to be bound by your opinion." " Does your lordship deny that this is the CathoHc Com- mittee?" persisted the magistrate. " My Lord Fingal has neither given you admission nor de- nial," said Counsellor Finn. "We do not want the magis'trate's assistance to make out meanings for us," said O'Connell. " Let him not imagine that he can bind this meeting by any assertion he thinks proper to make." " Then I repeat that your lordship's refusal to give me a du'ect answer," said the magistrate, "is an admission that this meeting is the CathoHc Committee, and being such, it is an un- lawful assembly — as such I require it to disperse. It is my wish to discharge my duty in as mild a manner as possible. I hope no resistance will be offered. I hope that I need not have recourse to the means I am entrusted with for the pur- pose of dispersing the meeting. Il4 LIFE AND TIMES OF o'COXNELL. "I do not intend to resist the laws," said the chaiiman; " but I shall not leave this seat until I am forced to do so, that I may bring an action against the person removing me." **My lord, I shall remove you from the chair," said the magistrate. '' My doing so will be an arrest." He then took Lord Fiugal by the arm and gently pushed him from the chair. Lord Netterville was immediately called to the chair on the motion of Counsellor 0' Gorman, and was immediately removed by the intervention of the police magistrate. The Hon. Mr. Barn wall was then called to the chair ; but at the recommendation of Sir Edward Belle w the meeting sepa- rated. The daring corn-age manifested by the Catholics in this emergency merits the highest eulogy. They immediately pla- carded the walls of the city with a requisition, signed by three hundi-ed persons, calling on their brethren to assemble in an aggregate meeting in the theatre of Fishamble-street. The recent meeting had been dispersed by the magistrates, because it came under the operation of the circular letter of the. chief secretary — because it consisted of delegates. But an aggregate meeting could not consist of delegates, and therefore could not be dispersed. At this new meeting O'Connell admitted that every magistrate, on learning that an assemblage of people had come together, had a right to ask if the meeting was assembled for a legal purpose or the contrary ; but he had no authority to catechise them further ; he must act upon the answer he re-* ceives. It was therefore satisfactory that the prudent conduct of the chairman, in replying to the question of the magistrate, had aflforded no precedent for the continuation of such a prac- tice. Such a precedent, he trusted, would be henceforth a pro- tection against the vexatious interruptions of ignorance and presumption. It had been insinuated that in changing their assembly from a committee to an aggregate meeting, the Ca- tholics shrank from the ground on which they stood before. But it w^as not the Catholics — it was the government that shrank. The right of petition was that for which the Catho- lics had always contended, and they did not now shrink from a trial of its legality. It was the cyo\yq. la^vyers who shrank from it. Much labour had been expended to frame an in- dictment which, seeming to try the question, in reality should not try it. They imagined that if it went in any shape before a jury, there was no doubt of its success. The late proceed- ings of the government should immediately be brought forward LIFE AND TDIES OF O'CONNELL. 115 as the subject of an action in the court of exchequer; to- morrow's sun should not set before it should appear upon record. It should be brought in two shapes — one an action for false imprisonment, the other a special action upon the case. Mr. O'Connell then proceeded to remark on the manner in which the late trial had been conducted, and expressed his dissatisfaction with some part of it. He aftei-wards went on to say that perseverance alone was requisite — a finn and tem- perate determination was alone necessary to make theu- cause ultimately successful. A very remarkable man was present at the meeting in ques- tion — the unfortunate but renowned poet Percy Bysche Shelley. Read by the melancholy light of subsequent experience, his observations on the Catholic question have the startling ap- pearance of prophecy. He says:=!= '' It is my opinion that the claims of the Catholic inhabitants of Ireland, if gained to- morrow, would in a very small degree aggrandize their liberty or happiness. The disqualifications principally affect the higher orders of the Catholic persuasion ; these would chiefly be be- nefitted by their removal. Power and wealth do not benefit, but injure the cause of freedom and virtue. I am happy, however, at the near approach of this emancipation, because I am inimical to all disqualifications for opinion. It will not add one comfort to the cottager — will snatch not one from the dark dungeon — will root out not one vice — alleviate not one pang. Yet it is a foreground of a picture in the dimness of whose distance I behold the lion lie down with the lamb, and the infimt play with the basilisk ; for it supposes the ex- termination of the eyeless monster — bigotry, whose throne has tottered for 200 years. I hear the teeth of the palsied bel- dam superstition, chatter, and I see her descending to the grave. Reason points to the open gates of the temple of re- ligious freedom ; philanthropy kneels at the altar of the com- mon God. I regard the admission of the Catholic claims and the Repeal of the Union Act as blossoms of that fr'uit, which the summer sun of improved intellect and progressive virtue are destined to mature. I will not pass without reflection the Legislative Union bqtween Great, Britain and Ireland ; nor -^ill I speak of it as a grievance so tolerable or unimportant in its nature as that of Catholic disqualification. The latter aflects few, the Union afiects thousands ; the one disqualifies the rich from power, the other impoverishes the peasant, adds beggary * " Proposals for an Association of those Philanthropists who are con- vinced of the inadequacy of the Political State of Ireland," &c. 116 LITE AND TIMES OF o'CONNELL. to the city, famine to the country, multiplies abjectness, whilst misery and crime play into each other's hands under its wither- ing auspices. I esteem, then, the annihilation of this second grievance as something more than a mere sign of good. I esteem it to be in itself a substantial benefit. The aristocracy of Ireland (much as I disapprove of other distinctions than those of virtue and talent, I consider it useless, hasty, and violent not for the present to acquiesce in their continuance) — the aristocracy of Ireland suck the veins of its inhabitants, and consume that blood in England." These scant extracts afford unmistakeable evidence of a mind which, if not utterly aban- doned to its OT\Ti wild impulses, might under holier auspices have produced a teeming haiTest of wholesome and golden fruit. The Catholic petition alluded to by O'Connell was presented on the 31st May, 1811, by Henry Grattan. His speech on the occasion teems with striking passages which illustrate the condition of the CathoHcs. He said: " Suppose the Thames were to inundate its banks, and, suddenly swelhng, enter this House during our deliberations — and a motion of adjournment being made, should be opposed, and an address to Providence moved — that it would be graciously pleased to tm-n back the overflow, and direct the waters into another channel. This, it will be said, would be absm^d ; but consider whether you are acting upon a principle of greater intrinsic wisdom, when, after provoking the resentments, you arm and martialize the ambi- tion of men, under the vain assurance that Pro^ddence will work a miracle in the constitution of human nature, and dispose it to pay injustice with affection — oppression with cordial support. This is, in fact, the true character of your expectations — nothing less than that the Author of the universe should subvert his laws to ratify your statutes, and disturb the course of nature to confirm the weak, base expedients of man. What says the de- calogue? ' Honom* thy father.' What says the penal law ? * Take away his estate.' Again saj^s the decalogue: 'Do not steal.' The law, on the contrary, proclaims, you may rob a CathoHc. . . . The early efiect of the promulgation of the penal code was to confound tjTant and slave, Protestant and Catholic, in one common mass of misery and insigiiificance. A new law against English Catholics was made in the reign of George II. — and mark the result. When a militia force of 6,000 was wanted, it could not be raised. The Duke of Cum- berland, son of George 11. , would not allow a man to be re- cruited in Ii'eland — except, perhaps, a linen-weaver fi-om the LIFE AND TIMES OF O'COXNELL. 117 north. And what was the consequence ? We met our own laws at Fontenoy. The ^-ictorious troops of England were stopped in then- career of triumph by the Iiish Brigade, which the folly of the penal laws had shut out fi'om the ranks of the British army. ... A little attention will show us that, in the same proportion as we have conceded to the Catholic, have we grown strong and powerful b}" our indulgence. . . . For the benefit of eleven hundred to disqualif}^ four or five millions, is the insolent efi'ort of bigotry — not the benignant precept of Christianity ; and all this not for the preservation of their property — for this was secured — but for bigotry, for in- tolerance, for avarice — for a vile, abominable, illegitimate, and atrocious usurpation. The laws of God cry out against it ; the spirit of Christianity cries out against it ; the laws of Eng- land, and the spirit and principles of its constitution, C17 out against such a system. . . . Before the Union, the expendi- ture of Ireland was i^l, 600,000, and her debt £3,000,000; she had then a free trade and a free constitution. Since that, she has gone on increasing in debt and expenditure ; she has con- tributed to England — exclusive of her cattle, her provisions, her men — above sixty-five milHons of money ; she is the hun- dred-handed giant, and holding out to you in every hand a benefit." The noble advocacy of Grattan — his liberality of principle — was gi'atefully appreciated by O'Connell. "WTiat is called libe- rality is so pm-ely the power of seeing clearly and judging sagaciously concerning the actual state of society — its wants and its means — that able men must be liberal men sooner or later. The ablest will not wait for the pressm^e of exigencies. There is something in the nerve, and sinew, and circulation of a man of genius that forces him on with the age, and leaves him no power of election. This was the case with Grattan. Speaking of Grattan, O'Connell said: "That greatest foe of Ireland, the late Earl of Clare, honoured Grattan with his hate ; and can we forget how a committee of the House of Lords tm-ned itself, under Lord Clare, into a committee to as- sassinate Grattan's character, and with monstrous efirontery charged him with treason. Had they believed it, not only their duty but their inclination would have forced them, at that melancholy period when little evidence was necessary, to prosecute him even to death. Our country being entranced in the death sleep of the Union, I pity the Irishman who does not feel pleasure in repeating with me, that Henry Grattan is alone worthy to sound the trumpet of her resuiTection." 118 LIFE AXD TBIES OF O'COXXELL. His priyate opinion of Grattan is very interesting. He said : " Grattan's eloquence ^^as full of fire, but had not the melody or dignity of Htt's ; yet nobody quoted Pitt's sayings, \vhereas Grattan was always saying things that eveiybody quoted and remembered. I did not," added O'Connell, "hear Grattan make any of his famous speeches, but I heai'd him nevertheless in public. He had great power and great oddity; he almost swept the gi'ound with his odd action." "Was he, in private society, an entertaining man ?" " Yery much so. His conversation contained much hu- mour of a diy antithetical kind ; and he never relaxed a muscle while his hearers were convulsed with laughter. He abounded with anecdotes of the men with whom he politically acted, and told them veiy well. I met him at dinner at the house of an uncle of 0' Conor Don, and the conversation turned on Lord Kingsborough, grandfather of the present Earl of Kingston — a very strange being who married at sixteen a cousin of his own, aged fifteen — used to di-ess like a Eoundhead of Cromwell's tune, kept his hair close shorn, and wore a plain coat without a collar. Grattan said of this oddity : ' He was the strangest compound of incongruities I ever knew; he combined the greatest personal independence with the most crouching politi- cal servility to ministers ; he was the most religious man and the most profligate — he systematically read eveiy day a portion of the Bible, and mai'ked his place in the sacred volume with an obscene ballad.' " I dare say," said O'Connell, after a pause, " that Grattan told 0' Conor to ask me to dinner. I was then beginning to be talked of, and people hke to see a young person who ac^ quires notoriety." " In the com'se of conversation I asked him," says O'Neill Daunt, " who, in his opinion, was the greatest Irishman ?" " Next to myself,'" he answered, " I think old Henry Grattan was." The Catholic petition — the subject of such stormy debate — on which the eloquence of Grattan fiung its light, and the tyranny of aristocratic oppression cast its gloom ; which the government were so anxious to cushion, and O'Connell so vehe- mently earnest to put forth — is a deeply interesting document, inasmuch as, if not wiitten with the hand, it unquestionably conveyed the opinions and met the concuiTence of the subject of oui' biography. It stated that, "for a series of years the petitioners and their ancestors suffered under the most cruel system of legalised persecution that ever afflicted a Christian LIFE AXD TBILS OF O'COXXELL. 119 people. . . . For the last seventeen years no relief what- soever has been extended to yom- petitioners, though they have three several times within that period submitted their gi'ievanees and their claims to the consideration of the united parliament. On the contrary, theii- humble representations are disregarded, their just statements contradicted without afibrding an oppor- tunity of supporting them, every prayer for investigation re- jected, and men, distinguished from theii' fellow-citizens only by their inveterate and offensive opposition to the claims of the petitioners, were raised to situations of trast, dignity, and emo- lument — a com'se of policy which the petitioners cannot help considering, at the least, extremely questionable at all times, but more particularly so when the independence of the United Kingdom becomes the subject of national contest ; and that they deem it unnecessary to enter into any refutation of the several calumnies and misrepresentations which have been circu- lated respecting the doctrine of their holy religion ; the solemn pledges they have given, the revenues they have contributed, the blood they have shed and lives they sacrificed in support of British policy and British connexion, supply abundant con- tradiction to the malignant assertions and insinuations of their enemies. The religion they profess is maintained by every one of his majesty's European allies. It was the religion of every man in England when that colossal pillar of British liberty, so justly entitled her Great Charter, was raised by her trusty sons ; and they beg leave most humbly to remind the House that the Catholics of L-eland contribute very largely to the supply and reinforcement of his majesty's forces on sea and land, and that they cannot disguise the feelings of disappoint- ment and dissatisfaction with which they are impressed on finding such attachment and support, on theu' part, met by a system of cold and jealous reserve, which excluded the Irish Cathohc from rank in mihtary command ; and those feel- ings are raised to a spirit of indignation when they observe that confidence, which is reftised to the petitioners in this their native land, reposed in foreign mercenaries — strangers alike to their soil and then- constitution, and not naturally interested in the defence or prosperity of either ; and that, fully impressed with the conviction that the extent and degrees of theii* giiev- ances are afready known to the House, they deem it unnecessary to resort to a minute detail or recital of them, as such a parti- . cular recapitulation could only tend to impress more forcibly and, if possible, more painfully on the minds of the petitioners the degi'ading consequence resulting fr-om their wretched stute 120 LIFE AND TIMES OF O'CONNELL. of exclusion and humiliation ; and praying the House to comply with the prayer of so many millions of their fellow- subjects, and not to suffer their claims any longer to remain disregarded — the extent of their supplication is that the House will secure and consolidate the real strength of the nation. . . . Re- store then, they most humbly pray, the Catholics of Ireland to a full participation of all the blessings of the constitution, &c. During these troubles O'Connell distinguished himself by his fearless and daring castigation of the attorney-general, who had dared to charge treason against the Catholic Com- mittee. He told him before the bench of justice that the charge was "false and groundless."! His indignant attack on the solicitor-general was equally remarkable. Mr. Justice Day had publicly compHmented the solicitor- general, and the solicitor- general had returned the favour iTy complimenting Mr. Justice Day. O'Connell at a pubhc meeting held them both up to public ridicule, and, amid shouts of laughter, lashed their politeness with merciless in- vective. O'Connell said : " Mr. Justice Day he called ' a mag- nanimous judge ;' the magnanimous judge called the solicitor- general 'the fiiend of Catholics.' Good God! what a notion these men must have of our stupidity ; what dupes and idiots they must take us to be. I am ready to concede magnanimity to the judge ; but that this barrister should be our friend — that he who commenced his political career with being, whilst yet young, the supporter of the blood- written administration of Lord Camden — that he who can look upon his own childi-en, and then doom ours to be degraded — who has shown himself ready to embrace any servitude in the way of his profession to ensure his promotion — such a man may continue to perse- cute us, I consent ; but he shall never enjoy the notion that we consider him a friend." By the trial of Dr. Sheridan alluded to in page 111, the verdict of the jury had restored to the Catholics then- right of delegation, and in the moment of their triumph, elated by success, they rushed forward to a new contest. The warrants for the apprehension of the Catholic leaders had been signed by Lord Chief Justice Downes, and the verdict of the jury had determined such ai'rests to be illegal. It was legitimately concluded by the Catholics that the commission of the illegal act ought to be punished in the person of the offending party. Accordingly, a counter prosecution was set on foot against Chief Justice Downes. t Tagan. LIFE AND TIMES OF O'COXXELL. 121 The prosecution might have been easily and honourably got rid of. A compromise extorted from the fears, or at least sanctioned with the approbation of the ruling powers, would have established the then unquestioned privileges of the Ca- thohc. It was, however, ruled otherwise. O'Connell pushed on the attack with vigour. The case was tried a second time in the pei*son of the chief justice. Judgment was given against the Catholics. No reasonable man who reads facts, not theories, and measures life by living things, could expect any other result. The moment a lawyer is elevated to the bench, he becomes a member of the aristocracy. Therefore, the power of the aristocracy is always put forth to shield him fi'om censure, and bear him harmless in his chance col- lisions with plebeians such as O'Connell ; consequently. Judge Downes succeeded. The Catholics, in the fii'st instance, in- tended to appeal against the judgment, but gradually lost heart, and settled dovvn into despair — even O'Connell's spirit- stirring eloquence failed to rouse them, and the demurrers were not even argued. Thus the victory which they had obtained in the first instance, was reversed. The Committee was scattered, delegation annihilated — and by the indiscretion of individuals, the liberty of the subject was sacrificed to the chicane and corruption of a haughty and arrogant party. To the general- Committee the Catholics of Ireland long looked back with feelings of gratitude, because its leading members had manfully withstood the attacks of the govern- ment. Nothing could be more unworthy than the conduct of the aristocracy with reference to that Committee. AvaiHng themselves craftily of the dubious phraseology of an act of parliament passed exclusively to suppress treasonable associa- tions, they hoped, by misrepresenting inetence to mean pur- pose, and delegation to mean representation, to crush the Catholic body. The intelligence and intrepidity of O'Connell not only defeated the attempt, but tm-ned to the advantage of Ireland what was intended for its destruction. We cannot, at the present day, fully appreciate the value of these services, because we cannot measm'e the appalling height to which Lish intolerance towered at that epoch. Protestant ascendancy, trembling for its empire, made use of every description of machineiy to deter the cautious, to alarm the timid, and to purchase the cornipt. Plots were concocted. The resources of the Castle were set in operation to stifle the public voice, and to seduce fi'om our side the most influential of our friends At such a time the Catholic Committee proved honest, stead- 6 122 LIFE AND TIMES OF o'CONNEIX. fast, firm, and unshrinking. During at least twelve months, however, the Catholic Board which succeeded the Committee exhibited equal vigour, energy, and resolution. The disorganised state into which the Catholics were thrown by their defeat in prosecuting Chief Justice Downes, disheart- ened and dispirited that languishing body. /^ They imbibed cou- rage, however, gradually to urge their just claims, owing to the struggling eflorts of the Protestants, to repeal the Legislative Union. In 1810, a petition denouncing the Union had been introduced into the Dublin corporation by a Mr. Willis. *' The members had suffered," it said, ''in common with their fellow-subjects in their manufactures, trades, and commercial concerns." No influx of British capital, no improvement in public manners, no additional secuiity to church or state, had resulted fi'om the Union. " The discord of religious sects had not diminished, nor did the loyalty of the loyal increase, nor did the disaffection of the disaffected diminish. The Union added nothing to the splendoui* of the throne or the prosperity of the empire." They therefore requested " the knights, citi- zens, and burgesses in parliament" to repeal the Legislative Union. Some valuable remarks were made on this petition by a Mr. Patterson. He said that the Scotch had received as compensa- tion for the loss of their independence d650,pOO, to construct a canal between the western and eastern shores of their country — one of the greatest canals in the world — and £10,000 to make roads through the Highlands. The Irish, unlike the Scotch, had received no pecuniary compensation for the loss of their legislatui'e — save the price paid to individuals for rotten bo- roughs. He could satisfy his hearers as to the atrocity of a measure which had lately hurled destruction on some of the most respectable mercantile firms in the kingdom. Some remarkable observations were likewise made by a Mr. Craven, who said : " Sir, when this measure was first broached, great promises were made. The Catholics, without whose con- sent the measure could never have been carried, were pro- mised Emancipation — they were duped and disappointed. — Dublin was to be made a fi-ee port; the tolls were to be taken off your canals ; this country was to become a land flow- ing with milk and honey. The experience of ten years has shown how these promises have been fulfilled. Sold by the most shameful traffic, the people burdened by the most intole- rable taxes — to pay, bribe, and compensate the very men who betrayed them. , . , If an individual instance were want- LIFE AND TIMES OF o'CONNELL. 123 ing I could mention myself, and declare on oath, as a mem- member of the corporation, that I have, since that event took place, lost £500 per annum." A committee was afterwards appointed, and an aggregate meeting held in the Royal Exchange. At this meeting O'Con- nell said that the interval since the Union was a melancholy period. In that period Ireland saw her artificers starved, her tradesmen begging, her merchants bankrupt, her gentry ba- nished, her nobihty degraded. Turbulence had deepened into murder, taxation had augmented, credit and commerce were annihilated, religious dissensions aggravated and embittered — and to crown all, they were insulted by being told of their grow- ing prosperity. All those calamities sprung from the Union. Ireland was favom'ed with a fertile soil, an excellent situation for commerce, intersected by navigable rivers, indented with safe and commodious harbours, blessed with a fruitful soil, and inhabited by a hardy, brave, and generous population. How did it happen then that the order of Providence was disturbed, and its bless- ings worse than neglected ? The fatal cause was obvious — that cause was the Union. Before the Union it was prophesied that the trade and credit of the country must fail, as capital was withdrawn, and that taxation would rise as poverty deepened. It had also been demonstrated that so long as the Union conti- nued, Irish misfortunes must accumulate. Their experience of the past removed all doubt as to the truth of the prophecy re- specting the future. Mr. O'Connell then went on to say that the act of Union was a flagi'ant violation of their national rights that the Irish parliament was not competent to pass it, that the Union is not constitutionally binding, and that it is a mere question of prudence whether it should not be resisted by force. He dwelt upon the cruelty, the treachery, the scandalous cor- ruption, the execrable turpitude employed to carry the measure. He showed the helpless and degraded condition into which Ireland was plunged as a partner in the United Kingdom — her representation a mockery, and all attempts to advance Irish interests in the hostile parhament of London, vain and nuga- tory. He described the manifold gifts by which Providence had qualified Ireland for prosperity, and delineated the advances she was making in industry, commerce, and opulence, during the eighteen years of her legislative independence. He lamented the miseries that had befallen the country in the first ten years of the accursed Union, and prophesied that they must accu- mulate and overwhelm the land with beggary if the Union were not repealed. He called upon the men most remarkable lor 124 LIFE AXD TIMES OF o'CONNELL. tlieir loyalty to the crown, and their attachment to constitn- tional liberty, to come forwai'd as leaders of the public voice, and he confidently asserted that the nation would thus grow too great for its chains, and the Union repealed without commotion or difficulty. He argued that as the enemy, by fomenting reli- gious discord, had crushed the country, the Irish should sacri- fice their religious animosities on the altar of their nationahty, adding these remarkable words : " I trample under foot the Ca- tholic claims if they interfere with Repeal. I abandon all wish for Emancipation if it delays the Repeal. Nay, were Mr. Perceval to-morrow to ofi'er me the Repeal of the Union upon the terms of re-enacting the penal code, I declare from my heart, and in the presence of my God, that I should most cheei-fully em- brace the ofier." At the present moment when it is seriously proposed to throw the cold shadow of oblivion on his national efforts, and blazon his labours as an Emancipator as his sole claim to distinction, these words are of serious interest. The truth is, that the secret of O'Connell's popularity lay in the hope which he breathed into the popular heart of ultimate independence. The instinct of his countiymen could easily discern the shadowy proportions of a crowned and castellated nationality looming in the distance, beyond the amehorative nieasui'es which he ostensibly contemplated. Had they not believed him to be secretly a nationalist, the Irish masses would never have thronged round and enabled him to be openly an Emancipator. Intimately persuaded that national independence was his ulterior design, they rallied round O'Connell with shouts of transpoi-t. The magic wand of nationality, which, though invisible to others, they saw dimly gleaming in his executive hand, conjured up the prodigious tide of popularity which encu'cled and supported him. Feel- ing deeply and bitterly, as the poor ever must feel, that national misery wells out of national thraldom, they crowded passion- ately round O'Connell with the scarcely whispered but burning hope that the Liberator of the altar might become the founder of a dynasty. To the multitude "Emancipation" was, after all, a vague term ; the futui'e goal they contemplated was natiomil independence, because, owing to the perverse ingenuity of their rulers, all their moral prerogatives — all their physical advan- tages — all the gifts of God and nature were then, as they are now, rendered void, fruitless, and at times even mischievous. They must be so — ^because if our rulers had the will, they have- not always the genius to make our resources truly profitable. This the people felt — and experience has ratified their senti- LIFE AND TIMES OF o'Ci)NNELL. 125 ment. Our village tyrants still trample on us at home, and still the exile bitterly feels in his wanderings the melancholy truth penned by the immortal Humboldt — " The nation which has lost its liberty, like the woman who has lost her honour, is never mentioned except to be insulted." *'In 1810," said O'Connell, talking to' his secretary,* "the Corporation of Dublin met at the Koyal Exchange to petition for the Repeal of the Union. John Keogh attended the meet- ing and made a speech. I also spoke in support of the Repeal, and thenceforth do I date my great lift in popularity. Keogh saw that I was calculated to become a leader. He subsequently tried to impress me with his ovm policy respecting Catholic affairs. The course he then recommended was a sullen qui- escence ; he m'ged that the Catholics should abstain altogether from agitation, and he laboured hard to bring me to adopt his views. But I saw that agitation was our only available weapon ; I saw that incessantly keeping our demands and our grievances before the public and the government, we must sooner or later succeed. Moreover, that period above all others was not one at which our legitimate weapon, agitation, could have prudently been let to rust. It was during the war, and while Napoleon — that splendid madman — made the Catholics of Ireland so es- sential to the military defence of the empu'e ; the time seemed pecuHarly appropriate to press our claims. About that period, a great Catholic meeting was held. John Keogh was then old and inlii-m ; but his presence was eagerly desired, and the meeting awaited his arrival with patient good humour. I and another were deputed to request his attendance. John Keogh had this peculiarity — that when he was waited on about mat- ters of business, he would talk away on all sorts of subjects except the business which had brought his visitors ; accord- ingly, he talked a great deal about everything but Catholic politics for the greater portion of om* visit ; and when at length we pressed him to accompany us to the meeting, the worthy old man harangued us for a quarter of an hour to demonstrate the impolicy of publicly assembling at all, and ended by coming to the meeting. He drew up a resolution which denounced the continued agitation of the Catholic question at that time. This resolution, proceeding as it did from a tried old leader, was carried. I then rose and proposed a counter resolution, pledging us all to incessant, unrelaxing agitation ; and such were the wise-acres with whom I had to deal, that they passed my resolution in the midst of enthusiastic acclamations, mth- * O'Neill Dauat's " Recollections." 126 LIFE AND TIMES OF o'CONNELL. out once dreaming that it ran directly counter to John Keogh's. Thenceforward, I may say, I was the leader." Mr. O'Connell's mode of can-ying on his agitation was emi- nently characterised by reiteration. "There are many men," said he, " who shrink from repeating themselves, and who actually feel a repugnance to deliver a good sentiioent or a good argument just because they have delivered that sentiment or that argument before. This is very foolish. It is not by advancing a political truth once, twice, or even ten times, that the public take it up and finally adopt it. No ! incessant re- petition is requu'ed to impress pohtical truths upon the public mind. That which is but once or twice advanced may possi- bly strike for a moment, but will then pass away from the public recollection. You must repeat the same lesson over and over again if you hope to make a permanent impression — if, in fact, you hope to impress it on j-our pupil's memory. Such has always been my practice. My object was, to fami- liarize the whole people of Ireland with important political truths, and I could never have done this if I had not inces- santly repeated those truths. I have done so pretty success- fully. Men, by always hearing the same things, insensibly associate them with received truisms. They find the facts at last quietly reposing in a corner of theii' minds, and no more think of doubting them than if they formed pai-t of their re- ligous belief. I have often been amused when, at public meetings, men have got up and delivered my old political lessons in my presence, as if they were new discoveries worked out by their own ingenuity and research. But this was the triumph of my labour. I had made the facts and sentiments so universally familiar, that men took them up and gave them to the public as theii' own." The influence which O'Connell exercised in the Catholic Committee — the animation, energy, and vigour, which he im- parted to its proceedings began to be felt by the aristocracy, and they made an efibrt to push him out of it. The instru- ment of this crafty design was Lord Ffrench. At a meeting which took place on the 2nd February, Lord Ffrench asserted that the lawyers were "men who ought to be suspected as having more to expect than any other description of Catho- lics." He added, that to '' put down the lawyers," the com- mittee should appeal to the people ; and for that pui-pose he moved "that the Catholic concerns be referred to an aggregate meeting to be held that day fortnight." Mr. O'Connell saw clearly the malice of this measure, and he met it in a frank LIFE AND TIMES OF o'CONNELL. 127 and manly spirit. ''For his part," he said, ''he should be most grateful if the bar were altogether excluded from Catholic politics. And if the noble lord could attend exclusively to the affairs of the Catholics, he, for one, should rejoice at their being placed in such excellent hands. He (Mr. O'Cennell) would then think himself justified in devoting himself exclu- sively to his professional pursuits. He had no difficulty in calling on the all-seeing Deity to attest the truth of his asser- tion — ^that the conscientious discharge of duty to an afflicted country was his leading motive in coming forward. The Committee, however, had done their duty well. They exposed the gross violations of the law which were daily committed with respect to Catholic soldiers ; and the result had been, that even the Wellesley administration recognised the law of the land in their military orders ; and Catholic soldiers were now allowed to serve their king without violating their consciences. Did the Committee deserve no thanks for this ? At all events, he had a right to call upon those who impeached the Com- mittee, to state in what respect they had done even so much for the Catholic cause. But the Committee had not confined their exei-tions to one object. They had framed a petition which, signed by thousands, was now ready for transmission to England. Ignorance of their situation, under which their warmest fi-iends laboured, prevented the emancipation of Ca- tholics. Even their best and highest friend, Henry Grattan, laboured under that ignorance. It was not, therefore, sur- prising that the Edinburgh Reviewers should have fallen into the same error. In their admirable essay they had stated that Catholics were excluded from only about forty offices, besides the houses of parliament. Notwithstanding this error, their essay was admirable — it was a specimen of that inestima- ble logic, that clear arrangement of the subject, and that con- clusive display of proofs with which the work aboimded. But what would it have been if. they were informed of our real situation ? My praise of those reviewers must be allowed to be unbiassed. I difier from them on the subject of the Veto, and would undertake to convince them I am right. I see my- self amongst those whom they style * bombastic counsellors ;' and I smile to see how happily they have described that fus- tian and rant which I am in the habit of obtruding upon your meetings. But notwithstanding this attack, which I admit to be personal, I do most sincerely and cordially thank them for their exertions. It is not in the nature of 'popular feeling to continue long its gratitude , but I have no hesitation in saying, 128 LIFE AJs'D TIMES OF O'COMXELL. that the Catholics of Ireland deseiTe to be slaves if they ever forget what they owe to the writers of that article. It is strange that when they contributed to the repeal of the slave trade, thej^ were perfectly conversant with the savage tribes of Raarta^ and Bambana, and the police of the barbaric cities of Sego and Timbuctoo, but yet are deplorably ignorant of the condition of the white slaves of Ireland. The ^vriter states, and laments that such grievances should exist — that five mil- lions of Catholics should be excluded fi'om forty offices under government; but I am prepared to prove that there are 1,254 offices from which Catholics are excluded by the dbect opera- tion of the law, and 80,000 places from which they are excluded by its consequences. We have another excellent advocate in England — I mean William Cobbett. The moment we can show him the extent of our oppressions, we fui*nish him with mate- rials to ensure our triumph — and we could not have a more powerful advocate. When he is right, he is irresistible — there is a strength and clearness in the way he puts every topic — he is at once so convincing and yet so familiar, that the dullest can understand, and even the bigot must be convinced. But what has deservedly raised him high in public estimation is the manly candour with which he avows and retracts any opi- nion he discovers to be erroneous. I can hardly conceive a greater proof of sound understanding and perfect honesty than such conduct. But what has been his fate? Why he has advocated your cause, and is sufiering under an atrocious sen- tence — two weary years' imprisonment — for a libel on the German Legion ! "^Tiat a besotted, benumbed people these English are ! They heard the sentence pronounced — they saw the victim conveyed to his dungeon, yet there was no address, no petition to the thi'one for its interference ; neither has this subject yet been brought before either house of paiiiament." O'Connell then proceeded to state the number of situations from which Cathohcs were excluded. Catholics were excluded from the following offices : in parliament 900, in corporations 3,981, in the law 1,058, in the anny 9,000, in the navy 12,200, other offices 2,251, amounting in the entire to 30,490. Catholics were excluded, in addition to all this, from the collec- tion and management of the public money. Six millions were annually raised from the Irish people — four millions were an- nually borrowed in the name of Ireland. There were not twenty Catholics employed in the collection and management of these ten millions — ten millions oppressive to all, but emo- iumentary only to a few Protestants. The four millions al- LIFE AND TIMES OF O'COXNELL. 129 luded to were not only collected — they were distributed, paid out again in discharge of the expenditure of the state. Protes- tants had the management of all such payments ; so that Ca- tholics were excluded from all the advantages resulting from the management of fourteen millions every year. The Com- mittee had investigated the condition of the inferior Catholics in the northern towns when, on days devoted to the celebra- tion of Orange festivals, their systematic oppressors assembled for the purpose of "making Orangemen." In England there was no liberty of conscience for Irish Catholic otlicers. If they went to England with their regiments, they must violate their principles, or quit the service. Why did the pious Per- ceval and the holy tVilberforce allow Popery in the German Legion, and persecute it among the loyal Irish ? The Com- mittee were desirous that the hirelings who did the dirty work of the Wellesleys should dare to contradict the tacts which his statement contained. He had shown that the Committee had not neglected its duty; ''but," continued Mr. O'Connell, "the old curse of the CathoHcs is, I fear, about to be renewed ; division, that made us what we are, is again to rear its standard amongst us. I recollect, in reading the life of ' the great Duke of Ormond,' as he was called, I was forcibly struck -svith a despatch of his written about 16G1, to vindicate himself from a charge of having given Catholics pemiission to hold a public meeting in Dublin. His answer is remarkable. He rejects, with disdain, the foul calumny of being a favourer of Papists, though he admits he gave them leave to meet; * because,' said he, ' I know by experience, that the Irish Papists never met without dividing and degi'ading them- selves.' One hundred and fifty years have since elapsed, and we are still in thraldom ; because no experience can, I fear, cure us of this wretched disposition to divide. I have already consumed too much of the time of the meeting ; I shall there- fore conclude by moving the order of the day : ' That the Ca- tholic petition be forthwith presented to parliament.' I am anxious to place that out of the way of dissension. The cry of * No petition !' was supposed, in the country, to be the watch- word of pai'ty in Dublin. Formerly gentlemen talked for hours in praise of 'dignified silence,' and of 'frowning upon their enemies,' and of ' muttering curses deep — not loud.' Now, in- deed, their faces are decked with smiles ; they are smoothing their whiskers and talking of delicacy; they entreat, with courtly air, that we would not embarrass our friends of the new admi- nistration. Sir, I know but of one embai'rassment in this 130 LIFE AND TIMES OP O'CONNELL. nation — and tliat arises from the state of weakness and distrac- tion the empire suffers from the poHtical injustice inflicted upon the CathoHcs. I know of but one embarrassment to the Catho- lic? — and that arises from the state of inferiority and degrada- tion in which the criminal neglect of our just right leaves us. I know but of one course to procure Emancipation. It is the open, manly, and constitutional right of petition. If you pe- tition session after session, you take away all pretext for in- trigue and cabal amongst yourselves — all rational hope of managing a party amongst us from yom- enemies, and also from your false-hearted friends ; and for my part, my humble opinion is decided — that you should continue to repeat your demands until every giievance is extinguished, and every trace of religious oppression annihilated." Lord Ffrench was defeated ; and it was finally agreed, that the petition should be entrusted to Mr. Grattan for presenta- tion in the Commons. The article in the Edinhurrjh Revieiv, to which O'Connell alludes in his preceding speech, was only part of the con- spiracy directed against himself. The aristocracy caused the editors of the Review to do two things — to vindicate Catholic rights, and denounce and abuse Catholic lawj^ers ; precisely as the wolves in ^ sop's fable stigmatize the dogs as the sole cause of the lamentable discord which blazed between the sheep and the wolves. It was highly desirable on the part of the government that the Catholic cause should be managed by men who, nominally leaders, were really traitors to the cause they espoused. Hence they say : " The original managers of the Catholic cause were men of singular prudence and modera- tion — of high rank and acknowledged abilities. The distinction they obtained by their judicious and well-concerted endeavours natm-ally excited the jealousy of some members of the body who had 7wt exactly the same qualifications; and the very success which had crowned their efforts produced, in the most sanguine and impetuous spirits, a degi-ee of impatience at those slow and regulated movements to which, in reality, they had been principally indebted for theii' success. In the crowded meetings of the Dublin Catholics, accordingly, there had recently arisen a set of rash tm'bulent, ambitious, or bigotted men, who evidently aimed at getting the management of this great cause, and, in some measm-e, the command of this great population into theii- o^vn hands ; and employed, for the attainment of this object, the common arts that are resorted to by all who are more desirous of popularity than scrupulous LIFE AJ^D TlilES OP O'CONNELL. 131 about the means of procuring it. They flattered and inflamed their auditors by speaking in exaggerated terms of their wrongs, their numbers, and their power ; and, mingling some- thing like the language of intimidation with theii* arguments and remonstrances, aflected a much warmer zeal for the rights of the body, and a much more lofty determination to bring the cause to a speedy issue than had suited the cautious policy of their more experienced leaders. The success of those arts was neither to be wondered at, nor, in common times, very much to be dreaded. The assembled multitudes in Dublin might applaud the vehement and bombastic harangues of a few ambitious counsellors and attoniej's; but the Catholic prelacy and aristocracy were likely to maintain a practical as- cendancy in the management of their common cause. In this crisis, however, the question of the Veto was suddenly brought under pubHc discussion ; and the measure being lariously cried out against by those who trembled at the thought of a real conciliation, the cry was rashly taken up by the rash and sanguine who spurned at the idea of compromise, and by the ambitious who sought only for an opportunity to distinguish themselves. By their impetuosity and their clamours they confounded some and infected others ; and, appearing by their noise and activity to be far more numerous than they actually were, they finally succeeded in intimidating the prelates them- selves into an acquiescence in their absurd opposition." O'Connell surmounted the cold and venomous attack of the Edinbm'gh Reviewers. He sm-vived the more open, rude, and fierce assaults of the Orange press, and the crafty devices of the hirelings of the aristocracy to wound him in his private and professional character. His defence was ever characterized by daring, when the attack was most characterized by fierceness ; and looking down from the stronghold of his integi'ity, he saw the poisoned arrows which they aimed at him fall broken and innocuous to the ground. In the British House of Commons a debate took place on the 14th June, 1811, which was not without its efiect in in- vigorating the languishing hopes of the Irish people. It cheered them to renewed exertion by the manly display of ardent patriotism which it elicited. In that debate, relating to Irish distilleries, Colonel Hutchinson struck at the Union a blow which startled the House, and called forth a storm of growling anger from the grufi* arrogance of the imperious Anglo-Saxons. In his speech its pernicious efi'ects were por- trayed in gloomy colours, and, at the same time, the grovelling 132 LIFE A2^D TIMES OF O CONNELL. avarice and brutal selfisliDess of the British character were assailed with bold denunciation. He said : " WhDe Great Britain thankfully receives in her necessity the raw com from Ireland, she would illiberally shut out the Irish spirits manu- factured from that raw material. But, according to the prin- ciple of the Union, there should be a free trade and no duties ; or, if the trade was not fi-ee, the duties should be equal. When this principle operated against Ireland, it was earned out effectually ; but when Ireland requii'ed that it should be likewise carried out against Scotland, Irish trade was inter- dicted, and the Union violated. Admitting, however, that the Irish distiller did reap some advantages h'orn the Irish spirit trade with England, was she therefore to be deprived of the trade itself ? If so, would they restore to Ireland all that she had lost by the degrading and abominable measure of the Union ?" (At these words loud cries of "order! order!" "chair! chaii' !" bm^st fi'om various parts of the House). The Speaker said : " The honourable member will do well to recollect that such is not the language which it becomes this House to hear or him to use, in speaking of a gi-ave and solemn act of parliament." The rage with which the English members were filled ren- dered them unanimous in their roar of "hear! hear!" on the conclusion of the Speaker's pharisaical observations. When their indecent vociferation had subsided, Colonel Hutchinson said: " Sii', I trust I am incapable of using language unworthy of this place or of myself. In saying what I have said I have obeyed the dictates of feelings of which I am not ashamed ; and while I know them to be just, I know not why I am to suffer the expression of them to be suppressed." The uproar of the House — intolerant of truth from an Irish- man—became more loud and, if possible, more general. Cries of "order! order!" "chair! chair! chaii'!" rang fi-om every side. The speaker, once more addressing the generous Irish- man, said: " The honom-able member will be pleased to see the necessity of conlbrming to the usages of this House in the ex- pression of his opinions." The stormy shout of "hear! hear ! hear!" bm^stiug simultaneously from the English mem- bers, gave the House for the moment the appearance of a bear garden. Colonel I^utchinson said: "To confoim to the usages of this House I am in every way disposed ; but my right as a member is what I shall never resign (order ! order !). If LIFE AND TIMES OP o'CONNELL. 133 liberty of speedi be not the right of every member of this House, I know not what is. I have always considered it the right of every member of this House to declare boldly what he honestly feels. With respect to the measure of the Union my feelings have been strong and uniform. I saw danger to this country in the measm-e when it was first proposed ; and in tliat danger, the degi*adation and ruin of my country. As the common friend of both, I resisted it by every means in my power ; and am I now to be denied the melancholy privilege of deploring the humiliating state to which that measure has re- duced my country ? Am I to be denied the right of complain- ing that she has been tricked out of her independence by pro- mises which have been all violated, and hopes that have been all blasted ? If, however, there be a secret detei-mination to rob her gradually of the few advantages to which, under the Union, she may be entitled, let gentlemen avow this determi- nation." The discontent of the Irish orignates not only in the wrongs they endm-e, but in the nature of their character. "Ireland," says Michelet, '' is the land of shining swords and brilliant ideas." We have produced, in proportion to oui' numbers, more soldiers, priests, and literary men, than any other people. To a gifted Irishman, lilie O'Connell or Hutchinson, it seems intolerably irksome and grating — it seems monstrous that a nation so endowed — a nation of soldiers, priests, and artists, should be subjected to a nation of sordid traffickers, whose ledger is their Bible, whose desk is their altar, and whose God is gold — a people who worship mammon. The nature of an Iiishman revolts at this arrangement — his discontent springs from the very constitution of his mind. There is no instance in human history of a nation devoted to traffic — absorbed in sordid pursuits — keeping permanently down another nation which is comparatively fi'ee from the de- grading passion of avarice. It is contrary to that very nature of things which destines the grovelling and brutish races for obedience — the more talented for command. The indignant outbursts of such men as Colonel Hutchinson originate not only in physical injustice, but in the very nature of mind. The degraded devotees of mammon cannot be permanently the masters of a military race. There is no instance of such a contingency in history. The commercial Carthaginians did not subjugate the military Romans — the trader Tyrians did not triumph over their Macedonian conqueror. It seemed therefore monstrous to men like O'Connell, that a nation of 1 34 LIFE AND TIMES OP O'CONNELL. greedy money-grubbers like the English should subjugate and enchain a people who are comparatively exempt from such degrading propensities. It is unprecedented in the whole course of human history. On the 31st January, 1812, Lord Aberdeen asked in indig- nation, in the course of a debate in the House of Lords: ^' After all the concessions that have been made to the Catho- lics, of what can they now complain ? Their complaint," con- tinued his lordship, "is reduced to this — that they are still precluded from holding certain offices. Will their advocates contend that they can claim, as a matter of right, their admis- sibility to those offices ? If that doctrine is set up, I for one do not hesitate to declare that it is not tenable." Lord Sidmouth asked: "Is not Emancipation a religious question ? Is it not the duty of the House to protect the true religion — established by law ? Must they not greatly detract from the estimation in which the true religion is held, if they so far countenance the Mass as to put it on a level with the Established Church — if they allow it to be regarded as a mat- ter of indifference whether persons go to Mass, to church, or to the synagogue ?" The Earl of Rosse made several observations on the tone of hostiHty adopted by the Catholics in theu' conventional mea- sures, which necessarily required the vigour of the government to resist it.n^ Nothing contributed more to the growing popularity of O'Connell than his daring courage in asserting the supremacy of intellect and the inferiority of pinchbeck rank. For this seiwice to the cause of freedom he unconsciously became the darling of the masses, whose toil-oppressed bosoms were de- lighted to see their task-masters held up to theii* ridicule, or subjected to the well-founded indignation of an insulted popu- lation. This again was the result of circumstances which he could not control. Feeling conscious of his own gigantic powers of intellect, O'Connell's rage and scorn for his mean and malignant adversaries knew no bounds. He was like a lion baited by rats. He grasped them as they fled, and crushed them in his talons, with a roar of gratified anger that was re- echoed by all Ireland — happy to see native talent exalting itself above tinselled title and factitious dignity. None of his successors have even approached him in this great service to democratic progress. He alone weighed the gold of intellect * Annual Register. LIFE AND TIMES OF o'CONNELL. 135 against the dross of coronets, and showed, in the face of the pubHc, that " The rank is but the guinea's stamp — The man's the gowd for a' that." At an aggregate meeting held in Fishamble- street theatre on the 29th February, 1812, O'Connell tore to pieces a speech which Wellesley Pole had delivered in parliament. O'Connell said: "I cannot bring myself to believe that any man could pronounce such a discourse ; the style is of the poorest order — there are a thousand phrases in it which demonstrate that no man of common education could have composed it. But to censure it as a composition would be absurd — it is the absence of truth and decency which entitles it to our notice. It is by calumny alone that our degradation is continued ; if nothing were told of us falsely, we should long since have been emancipated. It asserts that ' The government in- tended to stop the elections (of Catholics to serve in their com- mittees) — and did stop them. The ten persons which (I pre- serve the beauty of the original) were ordered to be returned from each county, in point of fact never did assemble.' In point of fact," continued O'Connell, " we all know the government never stopped any such election ; it never did interfere, save by sending forth the slovenly and ludicrous circular ; and in point of fact, the appointment did take place in most of the counties — every county that pleased — and the assembly of those persons was a matter as public and as well known to the go- vernment as any other fact which was entrusted to the news- papers. It also asserted that ' many of the counties in Ire- land could not produce ten respectable persons in Ireland of the Catholic rehgion above the rank of farmers.' Where was the creature found who composed this speech ? Is this igno- rance only, or is it unblushing efii'ontery ? I shall not stop to refute this foolish untruth ; it may serve a purpose in Eng- land — in this countiy it is beneath ridicule. We soon after find it gi'avely asserted : ' The meetings to appoint the present Committee were held for the most part during the assizes ; but they were conducted in such a manner that it was almost im- possible to find out what passed at the time.' Shame, shame upon this profligate speech- writer. Why all Ireland knows that these meetings were held with even ostentatious publicity — that they were crowded with Protestants, and that he who could make the assertion I have just quoted deserves not the trouble of contradiction. There remains yet one calumny — Mr. Pole said ' that if gentlemen would read the debates of the Com- 136 LIFE AND TIMES OF O'CONNELL. mittee, tliey would find separation openly and distinctly recom- mended.' Mr. Pole said no such thing ; the man does not live sufficiently audacious. Why, my lord, this is a direct accusa- tion of high treason, and he who would assert it of me I would brand with the foulest epithets. No ; a writer in a newspaper may be found to compose such a paragraph, but no man in his senses in the world dare to utter it aloud. But if it icere said, I care not while I proclaim it to be unfounded as it is injurious — as false as it is foul ; and I defy the slightest proof to be given of its veracity. I have trespassed on you too long with this miserable speech ; it deserves notice only because, having cir- culated among the EngUsh who know us not, it may, if un- contradicted, be believed. I am tempted to give you another instance of the stuff this speech is made of. It treats of the book called ' The Statement of the Penal Laws,' and, as usual, it flagrantly misrepresents or absurdly replies. Persons have done me the great honour of attributing that book to me. I should be proud to own it if I could, but I am incapable of writing so excellent a composition, or of sharing the honour with a gentleman to whose pen the Catholics of Ireland are deeply indebted. I hasten to conclude by expressing my con- viction that Emancipation is certain and will be immediate. The cordial support of om- Protestant brethren in Ireland as- sures us of it. The petition, which is exclusively their mea- sure — ^the Protestant petition — has more signatures than were affixed to oui' own. It has been supported in every county by the wealth and talent of om' affectionate countiymen. We have the Protestants of Ireland in our favour, and the rational part of the Protestants of England is not opposed to us. Oh ! but one objection still remains to our emancipation. It is quite novel and important. Our -enemies object to the tone which the CathoHcs use. This notable objection was disco- vered by the Earl of Eosse. He dislikes om- tone ; he might as weirhave quarrelled with our accent — but that would be rather a strong measm-e in Lord Rosse (laughter). Seriously speaking, the descendant of Sir William Pai'sons has an here- ditary right to be the enemy of the CathoHcs. I do not believe his lordship has fallen into inconsistency. I have some taint recollection that he once enacted patriotism in Ireland ; but I do not think he ever supported our claims, and I am sure I wish he never may." Though reporting at that period had not attained the won- derful perfection which it has since acquired, we detect in the preceding speech the gigantic energ}' of O'Conncll's mind. It LIFE AND TIMES OF O'CONNELL. lo7 abounds in sturdy and vigorous ideas, and a consciousness of power breathes through this oration which must have rendered it irresistible when heard. " You have seen O'Connell," says an American writer. "Is he not a chieftain ? Did you ever see a creature of such power of the tongue ? I never saw any- one that could converse with ah audience like him. Speeches may be as well made by other men, but I never heard such public talk from anybody. The creatui'e's mind plays before ten thousand, and his voice flows as clearly and as leisurely as in a circle round a fireside ; and he has the advantage of the excitement it affords to arouse his powers." A distinguished Irish writer,* speaking of the supposed idle- ness of genius, adduces the example of O'Connell to prove that such idleness is a mere j^latitude. "Bacon, Shakespeare, Mil- Ion, all who have enlightened and benefited the world, have been no less remarkable for then' labour than for their genius. Physical activity may exist without mind — but the man of talent cannot be idle even though he desire it ; he is mastered by his moral energy and pushed into activity whether he will or not. Vitality, or all-aliveness, energy, acti^sity, are the great elements of what we call talents. . . There is O'Connell — the head and front of all agitation, moral, political, social, and legal. When we read in the papers those eloquent and power- ful speeches, in which the spectres of Ireland's oppression are called up from the depths of history, with a perfect knowledge of all that has concerned the country &om its earliest records, and in which unnumbered modern instances of misrule, in all its shades of ignorance and venality, are collected from the store-house of his capacious memory — those speeches in which, amidst the fiery explosions of long-nurtured indignation (the petulant out-pourings of constitutional impatience), arguments of logical conviction and facts of cm^ious detail come forth as fi'om an exhaustless fountain — who but would suppose that the life of the patriot, demagogue, and agitator, was occupied ex- clusively in one great and absorbing cause. It is, however, on his way home from the com-ts, and after legal laboui's that have occupied him from the dawn of light, that he tm*ns into the Catholic Committee — it is after having set a jmy-bos in a roar by his humour, made butchers weep by his pathos, driven a witness to the last shift of Iiish evasion, and puzzled a judge by some point of law not dreamed of in his philosophy, that all weary and exhausted as he must be, he mounts the rostrum of the Committee, the Jupiter Tonans of the Catholic senate, * Lady Morgan. 138 LIFE AND TIMES OF o'CONNELL. and by those tliunderbolts of eloquence, so much more effective to hear than to read, kindles the lambent light of patriotism to its fiercest glow, and ' with fear of change' perplexes Orange lodges. Again, this boldest of demagogues, this mildest of men * from Dan to Beersheba,' appears in the patriarchal light of a happy father of a happy family, practising all the social duties and nourishing all the social affections. It is remarkable that Mr. O'Connell is not only governed by the same sense of the value of time as influenced Sir Edward Coke, but literally obeys his injunctions for its partition which form the creed more than the practice of rising young lawyers. It is this intense and laborious diligence in his profession that has won him the public confidence. Where his abilities as a lawyer may be serviceable, party yields to self-interest ; and many an inveterate ascendancy man leaves his friends, the Orange barristers, to hawk their empty bags through the courts, while he assigns to Catholic talent the cause which CathoHc eloqitence can best defend.'' The statements of Lady Morgan are confirmed by those of O'Neill Daunt. The latter says: "Hedges Eyre, of Orange notoriety, invariably engaged O'Connell as his counsel. On one occasion a brother Orangeman severely censured Hedges E}Te for employing the Catholic leader : ' You've got seven counsel without him,' quoth this sage adviser; * and why should you give your money to that Papist rascal ?' Hedges did not make any immediate reply ; but they both remained in court watch- ing the progress of the trial. The counsel on the opposite side pressed for a non-suit, and carried the judge (Johnson) along with them. O'Connell remonstrated against the non- suit, protesting against so great an injustice. The judge seemed obdurate. * Well hear me at all events !' said O'Con- nell. ' No, I won't,' replied the judge ; ' I've already heard the leading counsel.' 'But / am conducting counsel, my lord,' rejoined O'Connell, ' and more intimately aware of the details of the case than my brethren. I entreat, therefore, that you will hear me.' The judge ungraciously consented ; and in five minutes O'Connell had argued him out of the non-suit. — * Now,' said Hedges Eyre in triumph to his Orange confrere, * Now you see why I gave my money to that Papist rascal.' " Sir Robert Peel, the toremost of O'Connell's enemies, is said to have expressed his high appreciation of O'Connell's abilities. " My opinion candidly is," said Peel, speaking to a person who had called O'Connell a hrogueing Irish fellow, "that if I wanted au efficient and powerful advocate, I would readily give up all LIFE AND TlilES OF O'COXN'ELL. 139 the other orators of whom we have been talking, provided I had with me this same brogueing Irish fellow." The destinies of the British empire in 1812 were swayed by a minister named Perceval, whom O'Connell, with the intre- pid comi-age which made him great and formidable, denomiced as '* an intolerant bigot." Grattan, rising in the House, had exclaimed, " The naked Irishman has a right to approach his God without a license from his king !" On hearing this noble sentiment, *' that contemptible little creature, Perceval, as- sumed," said O'Connell, "rather the appearance of a convicted criminal receiving the just sentence of the law, than of a man placed at the head of the government of England." This man was assassinated in May, 1812. 'Twas evening ; Perceval had quitted his carriage ; he was passing through the lobby of the House of Commons, his mind surcharged with public affairs. He was about to enter the House, and present himself before the assembled senators, when a ruffian named Bellingham, in whose unsteady eye the lambent glare of insanity was blazing, discharged a pistol at him, and flung him on the ground, bleed- ing, writhing, and mortally wounded. Ere the smoke cleared away, Perceval was dead. " ^^Tiere is the villain who fired?" screamed the voice of some one in a state of indescribable agony and distraction — " T\Tiere is the villain who fired?" and several spectators, equally distracted and alarmed, re- peated the question. " I am the unfortunate man," said Bel- lingham calmly. * ' Who are you ?" vociferated several, perusing him with indescribable inquiry, horror, and surprise. "My name is Bellingham. It is a private injuiy. I know what I have done. It was a denial of justice on the part of the govern- ment." BeUingham, who was perfectly mild and composed, was dragged to the bar of the House of Commons, tried, sen- tenced, and — though a lunatic — put to death.* It is impossible to describe the hubbub and confusion into which the event threw the whole British community. The blow which killed the minister moved, distressed, and startled * On the death of Perceval, Moore wrote a copy of exquisite verse* from which the following is an extract : ** Even now, if one harsher emotion intrude, 'Tis to wish he had chosen some lowher state — Had known what he was — and content to be good, Had ne'er for our ruin aspired to be great. So left through their own httle orbit to move, His years might have rolled inoffensive away — His children might still have been blessed with his love, And England would ne'er have been cursed with his sway. 140 LIFE AND TIIIES OF O'COKXELL. the whole empii-e. The blood of the victim was scarce dry when disorganization broke the ranks of party, which — torn and distracted by hopes, fears, anxieties, and speculations — was babbling with ten thousand tongaes. Whigs, Tories, Catholics, and Orangemen, were alternately chilled by fear or warmed by expectation. The House of Lords was at first filled with consternation by the fall of this Goliath ; but the aristocracy are too astute to be long disconcerted. They soon turned the accident into a weapon to wound the Catholics. " You see, my lords," said the Earl of Rosse, better known as Sir Law- rence Parsons — *' You see, my lords, the consequence of agi- tating the question of Catholic Emancipation." To the minds of loyal Englishmen there appeared at that moment serious grounds for alai-m, if not dismay. The Em-o- pean nations were marshalled and directed by a single man, whose powerful and penetrative mind had discovered and was acting on the fatal secret — that England is only assailable through her pocket. The continental markets were shut in the face of English commerce — a cu-cumstance which gave the aristocracy more just grounds for alarm than the rout of a hundred armies and the submersion of a hundred fleets. The working classes were alternately famished by hunger or mad- dened to insurrection. The miserable king of England was mooning and ranging, like Polyphemus in his cave, bhndly and frantically about his splendid and gorgeous apartments — his head whitened with the snows of age — his brain darkened by the immovable cloud of insanity; eyeless, hoary, and bearded, he went groping round rooms which he could not see, fumbHng and gabbling, and occasionally knocking his head against the velvet lining with which the padded walls were covered — the piteous victim of moody and slobbering idiocy. Meantime, under the title of Regent, his son — a loathsome sensualist — was acting as king during the eclipse of his father's reason. "I believe," said O'Connell, "there never was a greater scoundrel than that prince. To his other evil qualities he added a perfect disregard for truth. During his connexion with ]\Irs. Fitzherbert, Charles James Fox dined with him one day in that lady's company. After dinner, Mrs. Fitz- herbert said, ' By-the-bye, Mr. Fox, I had almost forgotten to ask you what you did say" about me in the House of Com- mons the other night ? The newspapers misrepresent so very strangely that one cannot depend on them. You were made to say that the prince authorised you to deny his marriage with me.' The prince made monitory grimaces at Fox, and LIFE AND TIMES OF o'CONXELL. 141 immediately said, ' Upon my honour, my dear, I never autho- rised him to deny it.' * Upon my honour, sir, you did,' said Fox, rising from the table. ' I had always thought your father the greatest liar in England, but now see that you are.'" "Was he, in vour opinion, a handsome, princely-looking fellow ?" asked O'Neill Daunt. "When I saw him in 1794," replied O'Connell, " he was a remarkably handsome-faced man ; his figm'e was faulty — naiTow shoulders and enormous hips ; yet altogether he was certainly a fine-looking fellow." Thomas Moore's opinion of the prince was very disparaging. " I am sure the powder in his royal highness's hair is mueli more settled than anything in his head, or indeed his heart, ' says Moore, speaking, in one of his private letters, of this in- dividual. In the "Fudge Family," Moore expresses this dis- paraging opinion in verse. He says : " The Regent's brains could we transfer To some robust man-milliner, The shop, the shears, the lace, the ribbon, Would go, I doubt not, quite as ghb on ; And, vice versa, take the pains To give the Prince the shopman's brains, One only change from thence would flow — • ' Ribbons would not be wasted so." Notwithstanding his worthlessness, the Catholics were un- questionably fascinated by him, and cherished the delusive per- suasion that he was at bottom their fast fiiend. They patiently waited and confidently hoped, that the dawn of this rising sun would be the signal of their deliverance ; the darkness of their slavery would vanish, they thought, before the beneficent efful- gence of his royalty. The ghtter of a title has such irresistible fascination for the Irish mind, that they clung to this chimera with desperate tenacity even after repeated disappointments, reaHzing thoroughly the beautiful sentiments of their national poet when he makes Ireland say to the prince : •' When first I met thee warm and young, There shone such truth about thee, And on thy lips such promise hung I did not dare to doubt thee. I saw thee change — yet still relied ; Still clung with hope the fonder, And thought, though false to all beside. From me thou wouldst not wander. But go, deceiver ! go — The heart whose hopes could make ii , Trust one so false, so low, Deserves that thou shouldst break it. 142 LIFE AND TBIES OF o'CONNELL. " When every tongue thy follies named, I fled the unwelcome story ; Or found in ev'n the faults they blamed Some gleams of future glory. I still was true when nearer friends Conspu-ed to \NTong, to slight thee ; The heart that now thy falsehood renda Would then have bled to right thee. But go, deceiver ! go — Some day, perhaps, thou'lt waken From pleasure's di-eam to know The grief of hearts forsaken. The Irish were persuaded that Perceval had drawn a magic circle round the prince, so as to exclude those amiable spirits from the throne who w^ere propitious to the Catholics. They believed that the prince was natui'ally their friend, but that his judgment was warped, his firmness appalled, and his feel- ings excited by the portentous phantoms which Perceval con- jured up and crowded into that magic cii'cle. This was their persuasion — they flattered themselves with the delusive belief that they should be favorites were not Perceval prime minister. But the red right hand of an assassin had broken the wand of the conjurer ; the magician was dead, yet the prince continued as cold as before. Still in theii' insane loyalty they would not censure the prince — he was secretly their fi-iend, but an evil genius, they fancied, had penetrated the princely circle with " The graceful form, instilling soft desire — The curling tresses, and the silver lyre" of another Armida. A sensual trull, named the Countess of Hertford, had beguiled the prince, and banished fi'om his councils honour, integrity, talent, and highmindedness. The disappointment of the Irish on finding themselves deceived found expression in the glowing lyrics of Moore and the impe- tuous oratory of O'Connell. The former said : " Even now, though youth its bloom has shed, No lights of age adorn thee ; The few who loved thee once have fled. And those who flatter, scorn thee. Thy midnight cup is pledged to slaves — No genial ties enwTeath it ; The smihng there, like light on graves, Has dank, cold hearts beneath it. But go ! though worlds were thine, I would not now surrender One taintless tear of mine For all thy guilty splendour. LIFE AND TIMES OF O'CONTTELL. 143 * And days may come, thou false one, yet, When even those ties shall sever, And thou wilt call with vain regret On her thou'st lost for ever — On her who in thy fortune's fall, With smiles had stUl received thee, And gladly died to prove thee all .Her fancy once helieved thee. Go, go ! 'tis vain to curse — 'Tis weakness to upbraid thee ; Hate cannot wish thee worse Than guilt and shame have made thee," An aggregate roeeting of the Catholics of Ireland was held in Fishamble- street on the 18th June, 1812. In that meeting O'Connell " flung," as Shiel said, *' a brood of sturdy ideas on the world without a rag to cover them" — ideas which Moore had clothed in the radiant garb of glowing verse. O'Connell said : " About the commencement of the Fox adminstration, in 1806, the Catholics, cheered by the prospect of redress which the return of the whigs to office threw open to their hopes, were about to prepare petitions, but were withheld fi'om doing so by his grace the Duke of Bedford, then lord lieutenant, who communicated to the Catholics the wish of his royal highness, that the question should not then be agitated. 'The prince,' he said, * was decidedly convinced of the justice of our claims, and resolved to admit them when he had the power to do so.' I see persons here to whom this language was held, and I am sm*e the Duke of Bedford would never have conveyed the idea had he not his authority directly from the prince. In the same year the same pledge was repeated by the chancellor of Ireland, George Ponsonby. Mr. Ponsonby, I understand, distinctly avows the authority under which he communicated to the Irish Catholics the promise of Emancipation— to be conceded in the fulness of time, when he whom we then cherished as the early friend and proudest hope of Ireland shouldhaveitin his power to rally the enthusiasm of a gi*ateful people round his throne. Good God ! what a prodigal waste has since been committed — not of wealth, for that is comparatively trash, but of the best defence of the monarch — the Irish people's love. The third pledge is a written one. That pledge aflbrded for years conso- lation to the Irish Catholics. It could leave little doubt as to the decision of the prince's mind. The fourth and last pledge was that given by his royal highness to a noble lord now pre- sent. Communicated by the prince, the pledge was written by the lord, and signed by two other noblemen who participated 144 LIFE AND TIMES OF o'CONNELL. in the conversation. His royal highness offered something Ii]-:o an apology for not promoting the success of our petition in 1805. However, he desired it to be understood that he had formed an unalterable opinion on the subject. His opinion was that concessions to the Catholics were required, not only by expediency and policy, but by the fii'st principles of jus- tice." The language of O'Connell on the subject of Perceval's murder was ygyj powerful. In the veiy lowest stratum of Irish society, however, he found a melancholy parallel for the "causeless assassination which had deprived England of a prime minister." He took up the case of a peasant boy whom an Orangeman had shot, and exhibited the bleeding youth to the compassion of his auditors in contrast to the murdered statesman — asking them '' if all thek feelings were to be ex- hausted by the great ? Had they no pity for the Irish widow who lost her boy, her hope ? * My child,' she said, ' was but seventeen. On Sunday morning he left me quite well — but he came home a corpse.' Were her feehngs to be despised and trampled on ? Was the murderer to remain unpunished ? Oh, yes, for Bj^rne was a Papist; the assassin, Hall, an Orangeman ; nay, a Pm-ple marksman. They should recollect that his grace the Duke of Richmond did not pardon Hall until after a patient trial. After that patient trial Hall had been convicted — con- victed of having miu'dered in the public streets and in the open day, with arms entrusted for the defence of the public peace, an innocent and unoffending youth. Hall had been pardoned and set at large. Was there no vengeance for the blood of the widow's son ? The head of that government which had allowed the blood of Byrne to flow unrequited, might have vindicated the notion of a Providential visitation for unpunished crime." It was the opinion of O'Connell, that on the death of Perce- val, the Catholics should have been emancipated had it not been for Lord Moira. *^The truth must be told," said O'Con- nell. " This is Lord Moira's administration. He it was who stood between some worthless minions and the people's hopes. A single word from Lord Moira would have dis- missed the minions. Why was not that word pronounced ? Alas! I know not." From these remarks it would appear that Lord Moira, whom the servile infatuation of the Irish had invested with a halo of light and splendom-, and transfigured into the exalted cham- pion of human fi^eedom and general amelioration, had degene- rated into the crawling pander of the swinish vices of the foul LIFE AND TIMES OF O'CONNELL, 145 prince regent. This appears to be O'Connell's meaning when he alludes to the ''minions," who, encircling the throne, mixed the turpitude of the stews with the splendours of the palace. If such be the fact, a useful lesson may be garnered from the circumstance. It may serve to teach the important lesson, that nothing on earth can be so dangerous to human freedom as your " amiable and liberal lord." As in Lessing's fable, the fox, disguised in the spotless plumage of a bird, captures and destroys the poultry with more impunity and success than when the rapacious prowler is clothed undis- guisedly in the warm fur of a thief — so the hypocritical peer who issues fi'om the polished ckcle of privilege to enter the rude circle of democracy, is more formidable, more to be dreaded — though radiant with winning smiles and attractive blandishments, than the tyrant with his grim fi-own, harsh voice, iron chains, and gloomy dungeons. Such, at least, was the case of Lord Mou-a, who, by an appearance of honour, generosity, and chivalrous spirit, lured the admii-ation and won the confidence of the Ii'ish, only to betray them when he rose to power — and this, by culpably conniving at the in- famous tjTanny of their Orange oppressors. " It may be said," continued O'Connell, "that as Lord Moira has gained power, the Catholics may reasonably expect some relief. Let us not be deceived. From the present ministry we can expect notliing." O'Connell then adds these melancholy words: " But in sober sadness, in whom are we to confide ? Are we to believe the word of Castlereagh ? My lord, I would not be- lieve his oath. Already has he been deei)ly pledged. He was a United Iiishman, and, as such, must have taken their test. That test was then administered I believe mthbut the ceremo- nies of an oath, but had all the solemnity of that obligation. It pledged him to Catholic Emancipation and Parliamentary Re- form. He volunteered a declai-ation in favour of both on the hustings of Down. It was a bond solemnly given to his consti- tuents and his countiy. But how has he redeemed his pledges ? He has emancipated the Catholics by duping them at the Union, and voting against them uniformly in parliament. He has re- formed the parliament by selling it to the British minister. May this Walcheren minister be rewarded with th6 execration of his country, and may his tomb be engraved with the epi- taph — Vendidit hie auro j^citriam* No; from us Castlereagh can obtain no confidence; nor can his colleague. Lord Sid- mouth^— Lord Sidmouth, who declared to parliament he would * " For gold he sold his native countn'." 7 146 LIFE AND TBIES OF O'CONNELL. prefer the re-enactment of the penal code to the extension of further privileges to the Catholics. Lord Sidmouth, who be- gan by persecuting the dissenters, has been selected for the home department. He is to regulate the motions of the Irish government, and to cheer the di-ooping spiiit of persecution in this country. His natural allies are embodied here — men who have worked themselves into reputation with ancient maidens and decayed matrons by gi^avity of deportment and church-war- dening piety, but who all then* lives have been discounting re- ligion and God into promotion, pay, and plunder ; these good men, as they fantastically designate themselves, have a suitable companion in Lord Sidmouth. From these holy people we must expect persecution. Let us be on our guard, and cau- tiously watch this ministry. As Lord Moira has been their patron, they will endeavoui' to deceive us with a show of con- cession. The question presses on them with all the force of j)resent expediency and all the weight of eternal justice. If they could entrap us into collateral discussions — if they could entangle us in the chicanery of arrangement and securities, the public attention would be distracted and turned from the prin- cipal object, time would be wasted in useless discussions, animosities created by points of little importance, and, whilst practising the refinements of bigotry, the ministry would give themselves credit lor unbounded liberahty. Not twenty-four hours since, a friend of mine was speaking to one of those right honoui'ables who ai'e equally ready to pack juries, obtain pardon for an Orange assassin, or wi'ite paragraphs for the Patriot.'^ My friend said, ' You are going, I find, to emanci- pate the Catholics at last.' 'We !' rephed the other. ' Oh, no ; Canning's motion will entangle the rascals completely ; we shall easily get rid of them without committing om'selves.' It is impossible they can do anything for us — they u-oidd he false to themselves if they were true to Ireland. But we have re- sources in ourselves — resoui'ces in the liberality of our Irish Protestant brethren, in the eternal ridicule with which bigotry has covered itself in the person of its chosen apostles. Above all, we are strong in the justice and in the inextinguishable right of man to unlimited libei-ty of conscience. Some of our enemies allow that the Catholic religion is innocent and even laudable in other countries ; but when transplanted to Ireland it acquires malignity from the soil — in short, that other Papists are innocent and good, but Irish Papists execrable. But see what the fact is. Look to the history of the last six months. ♦ An Orange newspaper — the Mail of that time. LIFE AND T15IES OP O'CONNELL. 147 Tumult, riot, destruction of property, mui'der, insuiTection, and almost actual rebellion have prevailed in England; while in Ireland there was seen obedience the most perfect, tran- quillity the most profound. Though pressed by want and famine, goaded by packed juries, insulting prosecutions, and a thousand other wrongs which I shall not name, the people of Ireland, during England's greatest peril, have exhibited dutiful submission. Not a leather is ruffled on the suriace of our island in a season of unexampled scarcity and distress. In the mean- time the genius of Napoleon — the star of his imperial house — prevails. How he must rejoice to see the Dissenters and Catholics insulted by the nomination of Lord Sidmouth to rule the home department — to see Walcheren Castlereagh conduct- ing om- war counsels, and Lord Liverpool our prime minister. Securities are wanting against the folly, incapacity, and intole- rance of this ministry — against the power and talents of the French emperor. That emperor has gone to Petersburgh to dethrone his enemy or receive the submission of his vassal. It is absurd to expect any other result ; he will return with his hundi'eds of thousands to the conquest of Spain and Portugal. What can the unarmed bands of one country or our few com- panies in the other be able to do, overmatched by mp'iads ? And then, in what condition shall these islands be found to fight the battle of our existence ? All my anxieties are roused to prepare for that dreadful moment. But I should fear it not if justice were distributed by the hand of confiding generosity. Every village would then produce a regiment ; every field serve as a redoubt. The country combined in its strength would then laugh to scorn the power of every enemy. This is a vision — but it might have been realized. Why has it vanished? Why ? — oh degTading recollection ! — to preserve the household. My feelings overpower me. I must be silent." The efi'ect which Napoleon's power produced on reflective minds in 1812 — the portentous progi'ess and alarming magni- tude of his growdng yet gigantic empire — is clearly perceptible in the oration we have just read. We breathe the alarm which pervaded the public mind as we peruse O'Conneli's picture of the emperor's plans. A few weeks subsequently, 0''Connell read in the newspapers accounts which corroborated his views, and gave an air of stern and simple veracity to the dreadful picture which he had so ably drawn of the overwhelming and irresistible power of the ruler of France. Read by the light of subsequent experience the following article fi'om the Free- man s Journal of 7th October, 1812, is profoundly interesting. 148 LIFE AND TniES OF o'CONNELL. The article stirs us up like the brazen blast of a martial trum- pet — transfers us into the stirring times, and confronts us %Yith the terrible scenes enacting on the theatre of Europe in 1812. For, like the splendour of the vesper sun, the power of Napoleon never appeared so gorgeous and magnificent as when about to descend into an abyss of gloom. Never were his foes so near despair as when he himself was on the verge of irretrievable disaster. On the morning of the 7th September, 1812, O'Connell, in his study in Menion- square, took up the Morning Freeman and read the following lines : " The dreadful battle which has, we may say, decided the Eussian contest, and completed the destruction of the unfortu- nate Alexander, was fought on the 7th ult. at the village of Moskowa. On the 5th, it seems, a redoubt which the Russians had formed upon their left, and at which a corps of 10,000 men were stationed, was taken. In one hour, we are told, they were put to flight, ' lea^^ng a third of their force upon the field of battle.' The position of the main army was, it appears, too v^eak for the tedious operation of tm-ning it ; Bonaparte therefore resolved, by one of the bold strokes which are almost peculiar to him, to attack it by a direct assault. Before his resolution, however, was carried into effect, it seems he had adopted the precaution of ascertaining with accuracy the precise situation and circumstances of his enemy, for which purpose he passed the entire of the 6th in reconnoitering ; and lie was also prudential enough to wind up the spirits of his troops to the utmost pitch of enthusiasm by one of the most powerful of his inspiring addresses. Everything being duly prepared, on the morning of the 7th the ' Sun of Austerlitz' having risen ' without clouds' — his plans having been laid, his knowledge of his adversary's position perfected, the temper of his troops vrorked up to the highest degree of ardour — the battle commenced at six. In the short space of two hom-s the tide of victory rolled so powerfully against the Eussians that the bulletin emphatically says, ' they saw the battle lost which they thought had only commenced.' The advantages of the position belonged to the French ; their own batteries were turned against the Eussians. * 300 pieces of French cannon,' says Bonaparte, 'placed on the batteries thundered against their masses, and they died at the foot of those parapets which they had raised with so much labour to shelter themselves.' The unfortunate Eussians, dismayed at this sudden and tremendous shock, it appears, made an efi'ort — a bold and intrepid but miserably imprudent effort — to regain LII'E AND TIITES OF O'CONNELL. 149 their lost advantages ; but this effort did nothing but expose thousands of human beings to inevitable destruction, and inun- date the fields with unavailing gore. Here the wretched gene- ralship of the Russians was eminently conspicuous — a stupidity, a want of experience, an absence of self-possession and thought, which no valour of troops has been ever able to sustain. " 'There still remained to the enemy,' says the bulletin, * his redoubts to the right. General Morand marched thither, and carried them ; but at nine in the morning, attacked upon all sides, he could not maintain himself there. The enemy, encouraged by this advantage, made both his reserve and his last troops advance to try his fortune again.' From this passage it would appear that there were two desperate efforts made by the Russians to recover themselves — one along the line to regain their lost chain of retrenchments, and the other to regain the redoubts on the right. The result of the first effort we have narrated, and what was the result of the second ? It is thus described by the bulletin : ' Eight}'- pieces of French cannon immediately arrest and then annihilate the enemy's columns, which stood for two hom^s in close order under the chain shot — not daring to advance, unwilling to retire, yet renouncing their victory-. Mm-at decided their uncertainty. He caused the fourth corps of cavalry to make a charge, who penetrated through the breaches our cannon shot had made in the condensed masses of the Russians and the squa- drons of their cuirassiers ; they dispersed on all sides. Hera the fortime of the day appeai'ed to be unequivocally tm-ned against the Russians ; and here again was there exhibited to then* pitying hiends another lamentable specimen of their wretched generalship. Perhaps the annals of modem warfare do not present so singular an example of blunder and total incapacity as is fui-nished by the Russian general's exposing his troops for two hours, in condensed masses and without motion, to the fii-e of an enormous park of artillery. The havoc that was committed among the Russians is singularly great. The bulletin states their loss at between forty and fifty thousand men. There is good reason to suppose that Bonaparte does not underrate his enemies' sufferings ; but when we consider the manner in which his unfortunate adversaries were' exposed, we cannot think he exaggerates materially. We cannot well conceive what could withstand the operation of eighty pieces of cannon upon a condensed mass of several thousand men. Bonaparte himself gives a good reason for the enormous mis- fortune of the Russians : ' Had the enemy,' he says, ' when 150 LIFE AND TIMES OF o'CONNELL. driven from liis entrenchments, not endeavoured to retake tliem, our loss would be greater tlian his ; but he destroyed his army by keeping it from eight o'clock till two under the jGxe of our batteries, and in obstinately attempting to regain that which was lost.' This was the cause of his immense loss." The great power which Napoleon wielded affected the Irish Catholics in the most tender point — it furnished their enemies with a plausible pretext for torturing them with libels and withholding the privileges for which O'Connell sighed. The sovereign Pontiff was the captive of the imperial soldier, and Ireland was subject to the spiritual influence of the sovereign Pontiff. Therefore, said the Orangemen, the power of Napo- leon extends over Ireland. This is what was meant by Castle- reagh when, in a debate in Parliament, he said : "An honourable gentleman had represented the Pope as a very feeble instrument even in the hands of the enemy. He (Lord Castlereagh) could not allow, however, that he was feeble in Ireland, where he had, perhaps, more power than in any other country. He would, however, freely confess that he never knew of the see of Rome having done anything, in the exercise of its ecclesiastical authority in Ireland, but what was perfectly fau' and reasonable. But although it had hitherto conducted itself in a way that no fault could be found with it, it did not follow that if a fature Pope should be absolutely nominated by Bonaparte, that the ecclesiastical influence of the Pope might not be very much abused in Ireland. This was a danger that should be guarded against ; and in that case, without denying the Pope to be their spiritual head (which was a main tenet of their religion), the correspondence between the bishops and the Pope ought to be carried on in so open pnd undisguised a manner as not to give reasonable alarm to the state." In the course of his reply to Lord Castlereagh, Mr. Tiemey said: "He could not imagine why an Irish bishop should not in such a case be dealt with like an EngHsh bishop, who would only lose his head." Among the resolutions passed by the meeting at which O'Connell made the preceding speech, there was one which scandalized the whole aristocracy, particularly the gracious patrons of Catholic plebeians, and stung that lump of corruption, the prince, into a tremor of rage. It referred to his disgi-ace- ful amom- with Lady Hertford — to whose influence the Catho- lics ascribed the alienation of her royal paramour fi'om the cause of reHgious liberty. It was a resolution which occasioned a prodigious hubbub at the period, because it struck a daring LITE AND TIMES OP O'CONNELL. 151 blow at those voluptuous pleasui-es to whicli the servile aris- tocracy were the obsequious panders. It said: "Thatirom authentic documents now before us we learn with deep disap- pointment and anguish how cruelly the promised boon of Catholic freedom has been intercepted by the fatal idtcherij of an unworthy secret influence hostile to our fairest hopes, spurn- ing alike the sanctions of public and private virtue, the de- mands of personal gratitude, and the sacred obligations of plighted honour." Nothing could surpass the hubbub which this stroke at the wanton associate of the prince's sensuality awakened in the aristocratic patrons of the Catholics. To understand the shock which they received and the indignation they felt, we must re- member that they regarded his royal highness with religious awe as the head of the Established Church — the Pope of Pro- testantism — and this daring intrusion of plebeian censure into the secluded chambers of his enjoymentsseemed, in their eyes, little less than sacrilege. It outraged theu' feelings and pro- voked theii' bitterest animadversions. Royal power had touched the prince's vices with an Ithurial spear, and defonnity had become divine. The lord lieutenant (the Duke of Richmond) was extremely displeased. This nobleman had made himself particularly obnoxious to the Catholics by raising to the dignity of privy counsellor Dr. Patrick Duigenan — a man who had libelled the Catholics by the gi-ossest slanders. Alluding to this unworthy selection, O'Connell said that ** bigotry had covered itself wdth eternal ridicule in the person oi its chosen apostle." At that time lords lieutenant came over to diink the L'ish into good humour, as in more recent days they come over to palaver us into content. The Duke of Richmond was a drinking viceroy. His great mission was to go to bed drunk — for the good of Ireland. A poetical epistle, professing to be written by Dr. Duigenan to the Duke of Richmond, appeared then in the papers. It said : " If youi- grace has a mind to be gay — And we know you're the devil at that — You mil come take a drop of sweet pea,^ "With yoiir own privy counsellor, Pat. Faith, it's so tempting, whate'er you may think of it, Claret's hut sour, and champagne is hut ropish — Besides, troth I've neither to give you, asthore ; But whiskey's the thing, be it ever so Popish, To lay a right noble duke flat on the floor." Were it possible to fathom the depths of the viceregal po- * Whiskey. 152 LIFE AKD TDIES OF o'CONNEIX, tations, we might be able to calculate the loftiness of his proud indignation ; but such calculations are impossible, as the noble duke went deeper in his cups " than plummet ever sounded." If the Ii-ish were not content and good-humom-ed, it was not his fault ; the boozing portion at least of the vice- regal duties was performed with enthusiastic devotedness. He was unutterably indignant at the witchery resolutions. Notwithstanding his lordship's attention to such statesman- like cares, the Iiish Catholics clamoured against their disquali- fications, and the liberal Protestants poured on that pernicious measure, the Union, their unanimous execrations. His ex- cellency the duke was not a little puzzled with their contu- macy. He seriously thought that the Irish gentry' were in duty bound to be perfectly satisfied with their shipless har- bom-s, their deserted villages, theii' roofless manufactories, their ragged, discom-aged, and dispirited peasantry — because his ex- cellency went to bed di'unk every night for their amusement. He could not conceive what more they could require. Yet they did require more. In reference to the regent's disgraceful attachment to Lady Hertford, the Catholics said : "To this im- pure source we trace but too distinctly our afilicted hopes and protracted seiwitude, the arrogant invasion of our undoubted right of petitioning, the acrimony of illegal state prosecutions, the surrender of Ireland to prolonged oppression and insult, and the many experiments, equally pitiable and perilous, re- cently practised upon the habitual passiveness of an ill-treated but high-spirited people. Cheerless, indeed, would be our prospects, and faint our hopes of success, were they to rest upon the constancy of courtiers or the pompous patronage of men who can coldly sacrifice the feelings and interests of mil- lions at the shrine of perishable power — or, deluded by the blandishments of a too luxurious court, can hazard, the safety of a people for ill-timed coui'tly compliment. The pageant of a court commands not our respect — our gTeat cause rests upon the immutable foundations of truth, and justice, and reason. Equal constitutional rights — unconditional, unstipulated, un- purchased by dishonour — are objects dear to our hearts. They consist with virtue, wisdom, humanity, true religion, and un- afi'ected honour, and can never be abandoned by men who de- serve to be fi'ee." Such were the *' witchery resolutions" which made all the parasites of regal vice, all the tribes of titled corruption — "the peers, and dukes, and all their sweeping train," jibber, shriek, LIFE AND TIMES OP O CONNELL. 153 and jump with speechless wi'ath or pallid consternation, until they were as distracted as " a wilderness of monkies." '' O'Connell's propensity," says Fagan, ''to arraign in no measm-ed language, men of distinguished rank who differed from him, has often been charged against him as a crime." It was really a virtue. He hved at a time when Catholics could be known, as they walked the street, by then- sycophantic manners, their sneaking gait, and their crawling subserviency under eveiy species of obloquy and insult. O'Connell taught them to raise then- heads, look their enemies in the face, and proclaim fearlessly and boldly their indignation. By the masculine power of his character, as well as by the intrepidity of his in- vectives, he imparted to those poltroons a portion of his own courage — a lesson for which we can never be too grateful. Their minds expanded under his instruction until they becamo too large for their chains. It was not always irritation, as he himself expressed it in conversation with a friend of Mx. Fagan's- — it was calculation which made him adopt that style of animadversion. When the mfatuated Whiteboys assembled in midnight council, he found it was not the oppressors of their country or the exactions of the parsons so much as personal injuries which roused their malice and incurred their censm-e. From this degradation O'Connell sought to rescue them. He found it necessaiy to elevate these grovel- ling serfs, and tm-n up to the lofty sources fi'om which their grievances showered upon them, theii' misdirected attention. Besides, he was natm\ally provoked to fury by the unprincipled shuffling which the CathoHc aristocracy manifested, and the rage this treachery excited, was often spread over the whole class. For instance, in 1808 the management of the Catholic petition was confided to Lord Fingal. His lordship had scarcely amved in London when, we are told, he was im-ited to a con- ference with Mr. Ponsonby and other distinguished supporters of the Catholic cause. *' These conferences," says Wyse, " afterwards proved of the most injm'ious consequence to the Catholic community. "Whether," he continues, "from inad- vertence, or zeal, or injudicious submission to the opinions of parliamentary advisers, Lord Fingal appears precipitatel}^ to have consented to the proposition of a measm-e for which certainly he had no adequate or specific authority from the body it- self." He betrayed the CathoHcs. A whole train of evil consequences flowed from his treacherous proceeding. Mr. Ponsonby stated in the House that he " was authorised to say 154 LIFE AND TlilES OF o'CONNELL. that the Catholic clergy were willing, in the event of the mea- sure before the House being acceded to, that the appointment of every Catholic bishop in Ii-eland should in future finally rest in the king." Lord Grenville, in the Lords, on the 27th of the same month, went into the history of the Veto, and gave it to be understood "that it was a part of the system (the pro- vision for the clergy was another) which was in contemplation at the time of the Union." These proffers were, however, un- avaihng. Mr. Perceval, -i^ then prime minister, refused them a hearing ; the motion for taking the petition into consideration was lost by large majorities in both Houses. But this was a minor portion of the disasters which the duplicity of Lord Fingal entailed on the Irish CathoKcs. The morning after the debate, 26th May, Dr. Milner, the agent of the Catholic bishops, published a protest against the use which had been made of his name in the houses of parliament the preceding evening. Li Ii-eland, the feeling of public reproba- tion could hardly be restrained. The moment the reports of the parliamentary debates arrived, there was a general bui'st of indignation. The public mind, heaving like 'a sea, was thrown into the utmost agitation. The laity revolted at the idea of the ministers of theii- religion becoming exposed to the cor- ruption of the aristocracy. The clergy were roused by a com- mon impulse to the assertion of then* spiritual independence. A national synod was summoned, and the bishops passed a resolution condemnatory of the late proposition. This im- pression was ardently seconded by the people. The address attempted to be got up to Lord Fingal received only four signatures. The great mass of the people unequivocally pro- nounced against the Veto. This, perhaps, was an additional motive with the Catholic aristocracy to persevere in their dis- sent. Few of their body joined their voices with those of the large mass of their countrymen ; they made common cause with Lord Fingal, and with the aristocratic party of the English Catholics (from whom all these differences had origi- nated), thus encom-aging by their influence a feud which deeply injured the best interests of Ireland. | There is a curious passage in the correspondence of Sir A. Wellesley which throws some light on the motives, and perhaps machinations of the English Catholics. Sii' Ai-thur Wellesley, writing to Lord Hawkesbuiy, 4th February, 1808, says: "I understand that the English Catholics have lately made some endeavom's to unite their cause with the Irish of the same per- * Wyse's " Catholic Association." f Ibid. LIFE AND TIMES OF o'CONNELL. 155 suasion. The Irish appear to hope to derive some advantage from this union of interests, of which it can only be said that, if it should be made, it will inocculate them uith more religion, and may have the effect of moderating their party \-iolence ; and, at all events, it will give us an additional channel for knowing thek secrets." From this passage it seems probable that the Enghsh Catholic aristocracy embraced the Irish ple- beians with precisely the same object as Judas contemplated when he kissed our Lord — to betray them to their persecutors ; at least, this was the expected effect of the alliance. They hoped to make us good CathoHcs and bad patriots — to heat our religious fervour to something like fanaticism so as to prevent our union with Irish Protestants, and cool om- patriotic ardour to something like tepidity, that we might lie for ever pros- trate and in rags at the feet of Great Britain. The English and, indeed, the Irish Vetoists had unquestionably, in the opinion of O'Connell, very pernicious designs. O'Connell, when talking one day to a Catholic priest in the county Limerick, mentioned casually the name of Chief Baron Wolfe. ''I believe, Mr. O'Connell," said the priest, "he was strongly opposed to you on the Veto question ?" *' Yes," answered O'Connell ; " Wolfe thought that Emanci- pation should be purchased at the expense of handing over to government the appointment of Catholic bishops, under the name of a Veto. The only occasion on which we came into public collision -^dth each other on that subject was at a great meeting in Limerick, when he made a powerful speech — as powerful as could be made in a bad cause — in favour of the Veto. He came forward to the fi'ont of the gallery. We were iu the body of the house ; and in the delivery of his discourse there was manifested some little disposition to inten-upt him ; but I easily prevented that. When I rose in reply, I told the stoiy of the sheep that were fattening under the protection of their dogs, when an address to them to get rid of their dogs was presented by the wolves. I said that the leading Wolfe came forward to the front of the gallery.^ and persuaded the sheep to give up the dogs — they obeyed him, and were instantly devoured ; and I then expressed a hope that the Catholics of Ireland would be warned by that example never to yield to a ^Volfe again. With that pleasantry our differences ended ; for he admitted that the popular sentiment was against him, and he gave up any fm^ther agitation of that question." " I w^ell recollect that occasion," said the priest ; '' and aftei^ards Wolfe observed how useless it was to contend with 156 LIFE JlSB times OF o'COXNELL. O'Connell. 'Here have I made an oration that I had been elaborating for thi'ee weeks previously — and this man entirely demolishes the effect of all my rhetoric by a flash of humour and a pun upon my name !' " The following sketch from the able and amusing " Reminis- cences of a Silent Agitator," in the Irish Monthly Magazine, is so faithful to truth, with respect to the transactions of the period, that we are induced to give it insertion : *' The time at length came v\'hen the matming strength of the second order grew so obnoxious to the fastidious tastes of the Corinthians, that a secession n-om the democratic conven- tions was resolved on ; and the Catholic aristocracy formed itself into a Praetorian band, under the title of Seceders. Their secretary was Le Chevalier ' de M'Carthy, brother to the count of the same name,' who derives his patent of nobility — like the knights who were slain by the Princess Rusty Fusty in O'Keeffe's fai-ce — from the 'Holy Roman Empire;' and their hall of assembly was the drawing-room in the mansion of a nobleman (Lord Trimleston) — a most appropriate place for the means and ends they possessed and entertained. Circulars were directed to those belonging to the Catholic body who were considered entitled to the private entre of Lord Trimles- ton's saloon ; and some meetings were held by those political exclusives, where speeches were delivered and resolutions passed without subjecting the eloquent declaimers to those occasional interruptions, which in mixed assembHes are rudely offered, expressive of applause. Too polite to be personal in their allusions to the political opponents of the cause, they were also too refined in their selection of language to be either spirited or independent in their sentiments ; and when they touched upon the feehng of the ci^dl degi^adation which they were enduring, it was calculated more to excite compassion for theii' privations, than applause for the indignant sense of wi'ong they should have displayed. The proceedings of the Seceders would have passed away like any other drawing-room amuse- ments, commencing with politics and ending with a promenade, were it not that they took upon themselves to act tor the peo- ple, and to assume a sort of dictation in their cause. This- was not to be endured, and at their next meeting the uninvited O'Connell was resolved to appear — * In their own halls I'll brave them.' " The Seceders appointed a committee to prepare an address to the prince regent, and also agreed on a petition to parlia- LIFE AND TIMES OF o'CONXELL. 157 men", in tlie spring of the year 1814; all which transactions emanated from Lord Trimleston's drawing-room. At the latter end of March, a chcular was issued by Le Chevalier de McCarthy, their secretary of state, to those who were supposed to sanction the secession, inviting them to attend, for the pur- pose of 'hearing the report of the committee appointed to prepare the address to his royal highness the prince regent, and to receive a commimication from the Earl of Donough- more.' The Chevalier also requested that ' joii would be so good as to mention this, with my compliments, to those of your acquaintance ivho have signed the petition adopted on the 23rd February.' All those who still adhered to the Catholic Board (the model of the association) were passed over, and the Seceders imagined, that as the meeting was to take place in the mansion of a nobleman, that no tribune of the people would dare to intrude upon their privacy, or present himself at the portals unimdted. Vv^rapped in all the confidence of security from such a visitation, the members of this Aulic Council assembled to dehberate upon their snail-pace progress, and to prepare then- forces for then- inoffensive warfare. In the midst of their proceedings, a loud knock at the hall-door startled the slumbering echoes in Trimleston House, and attracted the attention of its di'a wing-room convention. The noble president looked embarrassed — the hectic of a moment passed over his cheek, but did not tarry. The knock was both loud and long, and terminated in a climax of sound : a general presentiment seemed to peiwade the assembly, that there was but one person who would have the audacity to demand admittance in that manner. The Chevalier, more com-ageous than the rest, rose h-om his place at the table, and went to reconnoitre fi'om a position on the staii'case, and re- turned mth a hurried step to his seat, whispering to those who were immediately around him something which did not seem to relieve theu' suspense. The Chevalier had scarcely taken his pen into his hand, when the door opened and O'Con- nell advanced to the table. It would require a lengthened re- poi-t to convey an idea of the debate which ensued ; or perhapr^ the pencil of a Hogarth could best describe the effect oi the scene — the expression of impatience and vexation which loured on the brows of his auditors, contrasted with the look of scornful rebuke which he cast upon them, one and all — the haughty tone with which he inteiTogated them, why they dared to take upon themselves to act for the Catholic people of Ire- land, and to exclude h'om their meetings those belonging to 158 LIFE AND TIMES OP o'COXNELL. that people who were their superiors in every attribute ? Dis- mayed and humiliated, the Seceders never after ventured to assemble ; and whether his royal highness received the con- templated address, or whether the Earl of Donoughmore's epistle was replied to, are matters I have not been able to ascertain. As a body, they were as effectually dissolved as the Council of Five Hundi'ed was — with this difference, that moral inliuence alone completed in the one case what the direction of military force achieved in the other. The next step the Seceders took was to secede fi'om a secession, and as the Irish watchman once said to a noctui-al disturber, ' dhperse yourself;' each retired within the glittering shell of his title or his opulence, and, like snails, left no memorial but the slime of their proceedings to record them." Notwithstanding the craft and duplicity of the nobility, the simplicity and honest earnestness of the humbler classes enabled O'Connell to carry his views on the question of the Veto. At the same time thousands w^ho were loud in denounc- ing the Veto had, it must be confessed, but a dim and cloudy comprehension of its real nature. A country friar undei-took, according to O'Connell, to dispel the ignorance of his hearers by the following discom'se: "Now, maboughali,'' said the fi'iar, announcing a meeting in 1813, "you havn't got gumption, and should therefore be guided by them that have. This meeting is all about the Veto — d'ye see. And now, as none of you know what the Veto is, I'll just make it all as clear as a whistle to you. The Veto, you see, is a Latin word, ma houghali; and none of yez understands Latin. But I vidll let yez know all the inns and outs of it, boys, if you'll only just listen to me now. The Veto is a thing that — you see, boys, the Veto is a thing that — that the meeting on Monday is to be held about (here were cheers and cries of ' hear ! hear !') The Veto is a thing that, in short — in short, boys, it's a thing that has puzzled wiser people than any of yez. In short, boys, as none of yez is able to comprehend the Veto, I need not take up more of your time about it now ; but I'll give you this piece of advice, boys — just go to the meeting and listen to Counsellor O'Connell, and just do whatever he bids you, boys."* The celebrated Edmund Burke, in a letter written during 1782, is more explanatory than the fi'iar described by Daniel O'Connell. He says : " If the state provided a suitable mainte- nance and temporalities for those governing members (bishops) and clergy under them, I should think the project, however * O'Neill Daunfs " Personal Recollections." LIFE AND TI3JLES OF o'COXNELL. 159 improper in other respects, to be by no means unjust. But to deprive a poor people who maintain a second set of clergy out of the miserable remains that is left after taxing and tithing — to deprive them of the disposition of their own charities among their own communion, would, in my opinion, be an intolerable hardship. Never were the members of one religious sect fit to be the pastors of another. . . . It is a gi'eat deal to sup- pose that even the present Castle would nominate bishops for the Roman Church of Ireland with a religious regard for its welfare. Perhaps they cannot — perhaps they dare not. . . . But allowing the present Castle finds itself fit to administer the government of a Chui'ch which they solemnly forswear — and forswear with hard words and many evil epithets — yet they cannot ensm-e themselves that a man like the late Lord Ches- terfield will not succeed to them. This man, while he was duping the credulity of the Papists with fine words in private, and commending their good behayiour during a rebellion in Great Britain — 1745 — was capable of urging penal laws against them in a speech fi'om the throne, and stimulating with provo- catives the wearied and half-exhausted bigotry of the then par- liament of Ireland. Suppose an atheist plaj'ing the part of a bigot to be in power again in this country, do you believe he would faithfully and religiously administer the trust of ap- pointing pastors to a Church which, wanting every other support, stands in tenfold need of ministers who will be dear to the people committed to their charge, and who will exercise a really paternal authority among them ? . . . Whoever is complainant against his brother will be considered as a perse- cutor ; whoever is censured by his superior ynW be looked upon as oppressed ; whoever is careless in his opinions "^ill be called a liberal man, and supposed to have incm-red hatred because he was not a bigot." T\Tien these sentiments of Bui'ke are contrasted with the shuffling conduct of Lord Fingal, how little, shabby, and con- temptible his lordship appeai^s beside the lofty and natural nobility of talent and virtue. Out of the ruins of the Catholic Committee — which after the prosecution of Judge Downes, lapsed piecemeal into scattered fragments — rose, young and vigorous, the Catholic Board. From the fragments of the old one, the new structure was built up ; and into this young body, the hardy spirit of the Committee was transferred. The new association, under an altered title, consisted of a voluntary assemblage of the former members, who avoided everything that could be construed into a re- 160 LIFE AND TIMES OF o'CONNELL. vresenfative character. The circular letter of Wellesley Polo had accomplished nothing more than the changing of one ap- pellation for another — the Catholic Committee became the Catholic Board. Thus from their enemies they drew strength and courage ; the only real obstacles which they had to en- counter proceeded exclusively fi'om their friends and from them- selves. In the year in which we wiite, 1863, the Irish secretary (which means the government of Ireland) is Sir Eobert Peel. In the year 1812, O'Connell, one morning in June, was startled to read in a morning paper the foUomng announcement : ^' Mr. Robert Peel was introduced on Thursday to the prince regent as secretary of state to the lord lieutenant of Ireland." Shortly afterwards — that is, in July, 1812 — the Catholics held an aggre- gate meeting, as usual, to petition parliament — and as usual Lord Fmgal took the chair. " The parliament of the United Kingdom," said O'Connell, ''after nearly twelve years of ne- glect or rejection, has at length undertaken the consideration of our giT.at cause. One branch of the legislature resolves to in- vestigate the penal code of Ireland with a view to its repeal, and perhaps before this hour, a similar resolution has been adopted by the House of Lords." The Irish Catholics were at that time exempt from many of the penal laws which still were in force against English Catho- lics. Catholic officers, holding rank in Ireland, lost that rank when they removed to England, because in England 'the Catho- lics were still disqualified. To remedy this anomalous state of things was, amongst other matters, the object of the lower House in considering in 1812 the Catholic question. Taking- advan- tage of this circumstance. Lord Fingal availed himself of the opportunity to preach to the Irish, confidence in the English government. His slavishness stung O'Connell. '' I too, my lord," he said, " am ready to confide — I am ready with jou to confide in the great and gro\nng liberality of the British nation, in the pledge of the honourable House, m the promised vote of the Lords. But let me conjure the meeting to place its first and principal reliance in a determined spirit to persevere, and never to relax their efforts until religious freedom is established. I may remind my countr^^men of the advice of Cromwell to his soldiers. The night was wet, and they as usual were engaged in prayer. ' Confide' said he, ' in the Lord ; put all your trust and confidence in the Lord — but be quite sure to sleep upon your matchlocks.' Such, my lord, is the confidence we ought to entertain at present. Every circumstance suggests caution. He LITE AND TIMES OF o'CONNELL. 161 has read history to little purpose, who does not doubt the fair pro- fessions of newly converted enemies ; it is for this that history is useful. At three different periods within the last twenty years, the CathoHcs might have been emancipated if a combina- tion of exertion had been used. Twenty years, however, have passed away — and we are still slaves. My days — the blossom of my youth and the flower of my manhood — have been darkened by the di'eariness of servitude. In this my native land, the land of my sires, I am degi'aded without fault or crime — an alien and an outcast. We do not, my lord, deserve this treat- ment. In 1793, gi'eat boons were extorted fi-om an adverse government; but many galling and insulting restrictions re- mained. And why ? Simply because the Catholics were not sufficiently combined and sufficiently detennincd. The second occasion on which Catholics might have been emancipated was the Union ; but at that period also the Catholics were much divided among themselves ; a reign of terror prevailed, and the voice of the Irish people was stifled. Amid the bitter anguish which the memory of my extinguished country excites, I have consolations both personal and public. Opposition to the Union was, and I thank my God for it, the fii'st act of my pohtical life. The Catholics are free from the guilt of having participated in the sale of their country, and are bound by no contract to continue their thraldom. Nay, the existence of the penal code is soothed by the recollection that, in the efforts made to procure redress, a popular spirit is roused, which if not soon allayed by the voice of emancipation, may generate a determination to reanimate the fallen constitution. The thu'd and last period at which Catholics might have been eman- cipated occurred since I had the honour to be an humble la- bourer In the Catholic cause — it was the commencement of Mr. Fox's administration. Mr. Scully was present as a delegate when Mr. Fox proclaimed the restrictive code as a crime — reli- gious liberty as a right. ' I cannot,' said that enlightened states- man — ' I cannot consent to become your advocate unless you are ready to concede to all other sects the toleration you require for yom'selves.* 'We would be miworthy to obtain it could we hesitate to accede to your terms : we would gladly bestow on all mankind what we ask for om'selves,' was the reply. In 1806, that very Mr. Fox became minister. The Catholics did not press their claims. If I am asked the question, why ? alas ! I cannot tell. I was myself one of the actors of the national, di'ama — and yet I am quite ignorant why we did not insist upon the recent pledge being redeemed. The Irish had 162 LIFE AND TIMES OF O'CONNELL. been so long used to obloquy and barshness, tbat tbey re- ceived as a boon deserving of gratitude tbe mere language of conciliation. Tbe result was, tbat tbe favourable moment of compelling tbat administration eitber to emancipate or to resign was passed by, and oui' servitude continues to tbis very bour. From tbe eri'ors of tbose periods let our present com'se be free. Our course is simple and plain. It consists, not in relaxing but in redoubling our efforts — in pressing forward again, as a people sbould do wbo deserve liberty. But if we fail ! Ai'e we to owe our freedom to Lord Castlereagb and to Lord Sidmoutb ? Let us, my lord, beware of raising too bigb tbe expectations of tbe country. In sucb a people as tbe Irisb tbe effects of dis- appointment may be terrific. Tbey are too apt to believe tbat wbicb tbey wisb— -too prone to rely ; and wben tbe bour of poli- tical treachery bas come, tbe sudden violence of disappointed expectation is not likely to be controlled by tbe influence of reason. Already we bave seen the effects of blasting tbe hopes of tbe Irisb people. In 1794, Lord FitzwilHam arrived in Ireland. He proclaimed our freedom as at band. Tbe Irisb parliament sung responsive ; tbe Catbobc Bill was brought in under the most favom-able auspices. If it had passed, tbe Union was hopeless. Mr. Pitt, preparing tbat measure, from a distance saw tbe consequence of abolishing religious dis- sensions ; the promised liberality was withdrawn, and in tbe space of one short month the very parliament which bade the Catholic rise to freedom, declared that dissensions sbould be pei'petual and slavery eternal. In a short time the land vras deluged vrith. native blood, and rebellion reared its horrid crest. Lord Castlereagb interposed, and terminated the scene accord- ing to the original plan^ — by the Union. That same Castle- reagb again governs. Is it safe, my lord — is it prudent to ex- aggerate the people's hopes ? Let us spare our country from the horrid consequences of outraged feelings. We should warn tbe people not to believe over much those who are hacknied in duplicity and treachery." O'Connell was asked on one occasion if he ever heard Fox — ■ the statesman — to vvhom he alludes in the preceding extract. '* Yes," was bis reply, " and he spoke delightfully; his speech was better than Pitt's. The forte of Pitt, as an orator, was majestic declamation and an inimitable feUcity of phrase. The word he used was always tbe very best word that could be got to express his idea. The only man I ever knew who ap- proached Pitt in this particular was Charles Kendal Bushe, whose phrases were always admirably happy." LIFE AXD TIMES OP O'COJ^NELL. X65 In reading the speeches of O'Connell, it is possible thai the existing generation may be animated mth his spirit — may obey the precept of the poet : " Read while you arm you — arm you -while you read." Theu' sympathy may excite their emulation and rouse them to revive the battle, "which, though slumbering and tailing at pre- sent, may ere long, "doubly thundering, swell the gale," crown their industry with security, their agiiculture with manufac- tures their nation with sell-government, and make Ii'eland " Great, glorious, and free." With some hope of this kind we have presented our readers with gems of O'Connell's oratory, which, like the gems and treasm-es of science and travel in some rich and well-stocked museum, are calculated to excite interest, gratiiy cmiosity, and extend information. O'Connell, in an after part of the speech already quoted, said: "The opposition to Catholic Emanci- pation has assumed a new shape. Everybody laughs at Jack Giffard and Paddy Duigenan ; their worthy colleague in Eng- land, Sir William Scott, no longer ventm-es to meet with ad- verse front the justice of our cause. He may talk of the ' moral inferiority' of the Iiish Catholics ; he may talk of setting om' question to rest ; but let him rest assm^ed that so long as his children — if he have any — so long as the swarthy race of Scots are placed by law superior to the Ii-ish Catholics, so long will it be impossible to put the question to rest. It never can, it never shall rest, save in unconditional Emancipation. As to the 'moral inferiority,' I shall not dispute the point with him; but I trust no CathoHc judge ^vill ever be found with such an accommodating disposition as to decide the same question in two different ways, as we are told that learned gentleman has done. Let him — I am sure I consent — dii-ect his sapient at- tention to points of delay. These points of delay are obvious. First, there is the Veto. The Catholic people cannot see, in the actual selection oi officials by the Ii'ish government, anything to tempt them to confer on that government the nomination of upwards of thirty other offices of honour and emolument. If hostility to the Irish people be a n cogni sed recommendation to all other employments, is it likely tha; in one alone, vu'tue and moral fitness should obtain the appointment ? It was too gi'oss and glaring a presumption in an administration, avowing its hostility to ever}i,hing Iiish, to expect to be allowed to in- terfere with the religious discipline of the Irish Church. Hav- ing disposed of the Veto, there remains but one resource for 162 LIFE AND TIMES OF OCONNELL. Intolerance — the classic Castlereagh has struck it out ; it con* sists in — what do you think ? why, in ' hitches.' Yes ; ' hitches' is the elegant word which is now destined to protract our de- gradation. It is in vain that our foes have been converted ; in vain has Wellesley Pole become our warm admirer. Oh ! how beautiful must he have looked advocating the Catholic cause ! And his conversion, too, has been accounted for on such philosophic principles. Yes ; he has gravely informed ns that he was all his life a man ' detesting committees ; vyou might see by him that the name of a committee discomposed his nerves, and excited his most irritable feelings — at the sound of a committee he was roused to madness. Now, the Papists had insisted on acting by a committee — the naughty Papjists had used nothing but profane committees, and, of com'se, he proclaimed his hostility. But in proportion as he disliked committees, so did he love and approve of aggregate meetings — respectable aggregate meetings. Had there been a chamber in the Castle large enough for an aggregate meeting, he would have given it. ^Vho does not see that by law, logic, philo- sophy, and the science of legislation, it is quite right to doat upon aggregate meetings and detest committees ? All recom- mend the one and condemn the other; and at length the Catholics have had the good sense to call their committee a Board — to make their aggregate meetings more frequent. They therefore deserve Emancipation, and, with the blessing of God, he (Mr. Pole) would confer it on them. Lord Castlereagh, too, has declared in our favour, A^dth the prudent reserve of the ' hitches ;' he is our friend, and has been so these last twenty years — our secret friend. As he sa^^s so on his honom- as a gentleman, we must believe him. If it be a merit in the minister of a great nation to possess profound discretion, this merit Lord Castlereagh possesses in an eminent degree. Why, he has preserved this secret with the utmost success. Who ever suspected that he had such a secret in his keeping ? The R^hole tenor of his life negatived the idea of his being our friend ; he spoke against us, he voted against us, he wi'ote and published against us — and it turns out now that he did all this merely to show how well he could keep a secret ! Oh ! admi- rable contriver ! Oh ! most successful placeman ! Most dis- creet and confidential of ministers !" Patrick Duigenan, whom O'Connell above alludes to, ** was a man," says Sir Jonah Barrington, "whose name must survive BO long as the feuds of Ireland shall be remembered." On many points the conduct of this man was so irregular, incon- LIFE AND TIJIES OF o'CONNELL. 165 sisterit, and singular, that even now it is impossible -to decide with certainty as to his genuine principles — if such he pos^ sessed — -upon any one subject, religious or political. His father was parish clerk of St. Werbui-gh's chui'ch, Dublin, and as he was born on St. Patrick's Day, he was christened Patrick in honour of the national Apostle. In whatever station he might have been placed, or whatever profession he might have adopted, he could not fail to become a conspicuous character : the activity and vigour of his intellect would not allow him to pass through life an unsignalised spectator ; and if he had not at an early period enlisted as a champion of Protestantism, it is more than probable he would with equal zeal and courage have borne aloft the standard of St. Peter. Incapable of mo- deration upon any subject, his hot, rough, courageous, and stubborn mind, strengthened by a memory of extraordinary re- tention, and very considerable erudition, contributed their attributes equally to the speeches he pronounced and the essays he penned. He considered invective the primary quality of a public orator, detail as the second, and decorum as the third and least necessary. A partisan in his veiy nature, every act of his life was influenced by invincible prepossessions ; a strong guard of inveterate prejudices were sure on all subjects to keep moderation at a distance, and occasionally prevented even common reason from obtruding on his dogmas, or in- terrupting his speeches. A mingled strain of erudition and vulgarity, rhapsody and reasoning, unlimited assertion and boisterous invective, were blended in inextricable confusion in the turbid current of his wi'itings and orations. His mode of composition vras peculiar : he folded a sheet of paper into four parts, and wi-ote rapidly on each side, and so soon as the sheet was filled with close wi'iting, sent it off to the press for publication, without ever reading one word or correct- ing a single sellable. -:^ He early resolved, he said, to print always what came uppermost, which was generally the best, and certainly the most natm-al. The only alteration he ever made in any of his works was in the " LaclirymcB Academicce," a satire on Trinity College, in which he inserted the following afterthought : ''The source of Sir John Blaquiere, like that of the Nile, has never yet been discovered.''^ He persuaded him- self that he was a true fanatic ; but though the world gave him credit for his practical intolerance, there were many exceptions to the consistency of his professions, and many persons doubted Jiis theoretic sincerity. His intolerance w^as too outrageous to * Sir Jonah Barrinsrton's " Anecdotes of the Union." 166 LIFE AND TIMES OF o'CONNELL. be honest, and too unreasonable to be sincere. With a spirit natui'ally open and zealous, he was often an ardent and sincere friend ; and though publicly harsh, he was privately charitable, yet seemed almost ashamed ot doing anj^thing that could be called benevolent. His tongue and his actions were constantly at variance. He was surly and yet hospitable, beneficent and yet gi'ufi, prejudiced and yet liberal, friendly and yet brutal. His bad qualities he exposed without reserve to the public ; his good ones he husbanded for private intercourse. Many of thfe fonner were fictitious, all the latter were natural. Sh Jonah Earrington, to whom we are indebted for this sketch, tells us, in his "Anecdotes of the Union," that "Duigenan had an honest heart, a perverted judgment, and an outrageous temper ; and as if he conceived that right was wrong, he sm-lily endea- voured to cloak his benevolence under the rough garb of a iiide misanthropy. In private society he was often genial and convivial ; and when his memory, his classic reading, and mis- cellaneous information were converted to the purposes of hu- mour and entertainment, they gave his conversation a quaint, joyous, eccentric cast, highly entertaining to strangers, and still more pleasing to those accustomed to the display of his versatilities." His first wife was a Catholic, whose sister, Miss Cusack, had been a nun previously to the French Revolution, and resided with the doctor. A Catholic priest resided gene- rally in the doctor's house as confessor and domestic chaplain to the ladies, and occasionally did the honours of his table. All the doctor's servants were Catholics, and a gi-eat majority of his guests and intimates were of the same persuasion. In his domestic chcle he lived much among Catholics, who very pro- perly judged that his hospitable table and open pm'se were at least consolations for the virulent sallies of invective with which the doctor occasionally belaboured the whole fraternity. There was a solidity about his hospitality, a vague unsubstantiality about his abuse, which rendered the latter, at least, questiona- ble. He subsequently, however, married a second wife — a clever English lady, whom he caught in Dublin. She was a relict of Mr. Heppenstal, one of the most zealous of the Orange Association, and brother to the celebrated Lieutenant Heppen- stal who, in 1798, acquired the epithet of ''walking gallows" from the following chcumstance, being a remarkably tall, robust man, he had a habit of dexterously strangling strag- gling rebels by twisting his own cravat round their necks, then throwing it over his own brawny shoulders, and so trotting about at a smart pace with the rebel dangling at his back, and LIFE AND TIMES OF o'CONNELL. 167 choking gi-adually until he was defanct, which generally hap- pened before the lieutenant was tired of his amusement. — This ingenious contrivance was never practised in any other part of the world, but it was the humour of 1798, and was not discountenanced by any legal, military, or municipal authority. At that time Lord Clare was,chancellor. To return to Dr. Duigenan : his strong, sturdy person and coarse, dogmatic, intel- ligent, yet obstinate countenance, indicated many of his charac- teristic qualities. He injured the reputation of the Protestant ascendancy by his extravagant support of its most untenable principles. He served the Catholics by the excess of his calum- nies, and aided their claims to amelioration by personifying that virulent sectarian intolerance which was the subject of their grievances. In the speech last quoted, O'Connell explains the ''hitches" of Lord Castlereagh. Should the parliament pass an act for the suppression of the servile rebellion then raging in Eng- land, the administration would suspend the Habeas Corpus there, for the purpose of crushing Emancipation here. Passing harmless over the heads of the English rioters, the new laws would fall only on the peaceful Lish. Venal outcry and ar- bitrary law, to suppress the discussion of Catholic grievances, was the obvious meaning which Lord Castlereagh attached to the word "hitches." O'Connell said: "As to us Popish agitators — for I own it, my lord, I am an agitator — as to us agitators amongst the Catholics, we are become too much accustomed to calumny to be terrified by it. But how have we deserved reproach and obloquy ? How have we merited calumny ? Of myself, my lord, I shall say nothing. I pos- sess no talents for the office ; but no man shall prevent the assertion of my rigid honesty. I am, it is true, the lowliest of the agitators ; ,but there are amongst them men of first-rate talents and of ample fortunes. Out of our hands the people may be easily taken. They are bound to us only by the ties of mutual sufferings and mutual sjTiipathies. We are the mere straws which are borne upon the torrent of public wrongs and public griefs. Restore their rights to the people. Con- ciliate the Irish nation, which is ready to meet you half wav, and the power of the agitators is gone in an instant. The alarm expressed at this agitation is a high compliment ; it clearly points out the course we ought to pursue. Let us rouse the Irish people, fi'om one extreme to the other of the island, in this constitutional cause. Let the Catholic combine with the Protestant and the Protestant with the Catholic, and one gene- 168 LIFE AND TIMES OF o'cO>:NTLL. rous exertion sets every feeling at rest, and banislies for ever dissension and division." Such was the speech which O'Connell delivered on the 2nd July, 1812. He evidently delivered it under the cheering influence of some slight expectation. It would appear that through the darkened sky which had shut out from the eyes oi the Catholics the serene prospect of hope, a blaze of sunshine had broken, and for a moment cheered with its sparkling efful- gence the damp and downcast body of Irish helots. They were no longer depressed. Under these circumstances, O'Con- nell delivered the foregoing speech. But his keen glance per- ceived that the welcome light which streaked the dark aspect of then' horizon was a fugitive and watery beam, and he ex- presses his misgivings in a very remarkable manner in the course of this discourse. He saw that the fate of the Irish, endeavouring to reach freedom, must for some time resemble that of mariners endeavoui'ing to reach a port : " As, to night -wandering sailors, pale with fears, Wide o'er the wateiy waste a light appears, \\Tiich on the far-seen mountain blazing high, Streams fi-om some lonely watch-tower to the sky : With mournful eyes they gaze, and gaze again — Loud howls the stonn and diives them o'er the main." Events proved that he was right. A dissolution of parlia- ment was at that moment in the contemplation of the aristo- cracy. The House of Commons — whose members for the most part are the lackeys of the Lords — was accordingly permitted to pledge itself unequivocally to some measure of emancipation. He had every reason to suspect the honesty of the men who were then in office, and the doubts which he harbom-ed he expresses in emphatic and powerful language. ''Believe me," said he, "my prophetic fears are not in vain. I know the managers well, and place no confidence in their liohj seeming.'" The celebrated Philpot CuiTan delivei-ed an opinion respect- ing this ministry about this period, which, if not strictly true, is extremely eloquent. He said: "The instruments of our government had almost been simplified into the tax-gatherer and the hangman. At length, after a long night of sufiering, the niorning-star of our redemption casts its light upon us. The mist is dissolved, and all men perceive that those whom they had been bhndly attacking in the dark, were in reahty their friends and fellow- sufierers. We have made a discovery of the gi'and principle in politics — that the t}Tant is in every instance the creature of the slave — that he is a cowardly and computing LIFE AND TI5IES OF O'CONNELL. 169 animal, and that in every instance he calculates between the expenclitm-e and the advantage. I therefore do not hesitate to say, that if the wi^etched Island of Man had sense and spirit to see the force of this truth, she could not be enslaved by the whole power of England. The oppressor would see that the necessary expenditure in whips, and chains, and gibbets, would infinitely countervail the ultimate value of the acquisition — and it is o^\'ing to ignorance of this unquestionable truth that so much of this agitated globe has been crawled over by a slave population. This discovery, at least, Ireland has made. The Catholic claimed his rights ; the Protestant seconded the claim. A silly government was driven to the despicable cou- rage of cowardice, and resorted to the odious artillery of perse- cution. The expedient failed : the question made its way to the discussion of the senate. A House of Commons who at least represented themselves, perhaps ashamed of their em- ployers, became unmanageable tools "in the hands of such awkward artists, and were dissolved — ^just as a beaten gamester throws the cards into the fire, in hope in a new pack to find better fortune." O'Connell, in a foregoing speech, described in a powerful manner the three opportunities which presented themsel^ successively to Catholics of attaining liberty, but when the palm of victoiy was within their reach, they failed, on three several occasions, to stretch out their hands ; the opportunity escaped them — 'twas swept away by the stream of thick-coming events, and they sank once more into bondage and misery. In a subsequent speech he described the three successive minis- tries that rose and maiTed the hopes of the Catholics. There is nothing in English literatm-e superior to the passage in which this is done — it is a perfect gem. ''The principle of the Pitt administration," said O'Connell, "was to deprive the people of all share in the government, and to vest all power and authority in the crown. In short, Pitt's views amounted to unqualified despotism. This gi-eat object he steadily pursued through his ill-starred career. It is true he e*ouraged com- merce — but it was for the purpose of taxation, and he used taxa- tion for the purposes of corruption ; he assisted the merchants as long as he could to grow rich — and they lauded him ; he bought the people with their own money — and they praised him. Each succeeding day produced some new inroad on the con- stitution. The principle of Pitt's government was despotism; the principle of Perceval's administration was peculating bigotry or bigoted peculation. In the name of the Lord, he plundered 8 170 LIFE AND TIMES OF O*C0NNELL. the people. Pious and enlightened statesman! He would take their money only for the good of their souls. The prin- ciple of the Liverpool administration is still more obvious. It has unequivocally disclosed itself in all its movements ; it is simple and single — it consists in falsehood. Falsehood is the bond and link of the present ministry. Some of them pretend to be oui' friends ; you know it is not true — they are our worse enemies for theii' hj^pocrisy. They declare that the Catholic question is no longer opposed by the cabinet — that it is left to the discretion of each individual retainer. The fact is other- wise ; and their retainers, though not commanded as formerly, are carefully advised to vote against us." In allusion to the supposed absence of restriction on the political opinions of the ministers, Mr. Tierney termed Lord Livei-pool's cabinet "a sort of Liberty Hall" — a statement which was illustrated by a poet of the day in the following squib, which O'Connell-felt gi'eat pleasure in reciting : " Send the toast around briskly, my good fellows all, You may till as you like — this is Liberty Hall, Wliere he who loves comfort and glories in pelf, May enjoy his opinions and pint to himself. Here Castlereagh sits, after wasting his mnd ~9 ' In telling us everj'thing else but his mind, And released from his pledge to keep Ireland enslaved, Since he's sure of his place, thinks she ought to be saved. While Eldon, enjojing a full dispensation From eveiything (bless him !) that's like toleration, May still load the Papists with blubber and gall, And ne'er be worse for it in Liberty Hall. Here Sidmouth, of course, is permitted to trim, Since the habit's become second nature in him. Here Vansittart himself has a license ta'en out To go on without knowing one thing he's about. And, in short, if we be not too honest, we all May just follow our fancies in Liberty Hall." It is alleged that Lord Castlereagh in private society was a very amiable man ; but in O'Connell's speeches, and we believe in honest hist^ic truth, he presents the most odious and hor- rible appearance. He was nevertheless one of those cheerful, liveable, give-and-take "persons m jmvate v^ho are so invaluable in villa life, where pleasure and repose are the object and the end. His fine head and pale impassable countenance, his ex- pertness at small plays and unalterable good humour, his mild- ness of demeanour, cloudless smile, and invincible placidity, and love of music, rendered him most welcome in all the pri- vate circles he frequented in the pauses of his arduous avoca- LIFE AND TIMES OP o'CONNELL. 171 tions. Junius, speaking of the Scotch, makes use of a remark- able observation ; he says : ''I own I am not apt to confide in the professions of gentlemen of Scotland ; and when they smile, I feel an involuntary emotion to guard myself against mischief." This may be inapplicable to the Scotch, but it was perfectly applicable to Castlereagh. He was one of those who, in the words of the poet, could " smile and smile, and be a villain," His political morals were generally denounced even by those for whose sake he betrayed his country — the English ; while his oratoiT was laughed at and decried by the very class in whose interests it was exerted — the aristocracy. Hence the popularity of the political squib beginning, " Why is a pump like Viscount Castlereagh ?" The answer is : " Because it is a slender thing of wood That up and down its awkward arm doth sway And coolly spout and spout away, In one weak, washy, everlasting flood." Lord Byron's opinion of Castlereagh is worth quoting. He says: "That Castlereagh was an amiable man in jjrivate life may or may not be true ; with this the public have nothing to do. As to lamenting his death, it will be time enough to do so when Ireland has ceased to mourn for his birth. As a minister, I (for one of millions) looked upon him as the most despotic in intention and the weakest in intellect that ever tyrannized over a country. It is the fii'st time, indeed, since the Normans that England has been insulted by a minister (at least) who could not speak English, and that parHament per- mitted itself to be dictated to in the language of Mrs. Mala- prop In his death, he was necessarily one of two things by laiv — a felon or a madman, and in either case, no gi'eat subject for panegyric. In his life he was — what all the world knows, and half of it will feel for years to come. It may, at least, serve as some consolation to the nations that their oppressors are not happy, and in some instances, judge so justly of their own actions as to anticipate the sentence of mankind." An ex- pression which Castlereagh used in 1812 brought him within the sweep of O'Connell's animadversion. This is the manner in which the Agitator rends the perpetrator of the Union. Castlereagh had said that in 1798 there was no torture in Ireland. "Is it really possible that such an assertion was used?" exclaims O'ConneU. "What! No tortm-e? Great God ! No torture ! Within the walls of your city (Limerick), 172 LIFE AND TIMES OF o'CONNELL. was there no torture ? Could not Colonel Vereker^ have in- formed Lord Castlereagh that the lash resounded in the streets, and that the human groan assailed the wearied ear of humanity ? Colonel Vereker can tell whether it be not true that in the streets of your city the servant of his relative, Mrs. Rosslewan, was not tortui'ed — whether he was not tortured first for having expressed a single sentiment of compassion, and next because Colonel Vereker interfered for him. But there is an additional fact which is not so generally known — which perhaps Colonel Vereker himself does not know, and which I have learned from a highly respectable clergyman — that this sad victim of the system of torture was, at the time he was scourged, in an infirm state of health, that the flogging inflicted on him deprived him of all understanding, and that within a few months he died insane, without having recovered a shadow of reason. But why, out of myriads of victims, do I select a solitary instance ? Because he was a native of your city, and his only oflence an expression of compassion. I might tell you, did you not know it, that in Dublin there were for three weeks three permanent triangles constantly supplied with the victims of a promiscuous choice made by the army, the yeomanry, the police barracks, and the Orange lodges ; that the shrieks of the tortured must have literally resounded in the state apartments of the Castle ; and that, along by the gate of the Castle yard, a human being, naked, -tarred, feathered — with one ear cut ofi", and the blood streaming from his lacerated back, has been hunted by a troop of barbarians!" The leaders of the Catholics, in compliance with the law, had laid aside the character of delegates. In their action against Judge Downes they had been stript of the representative cha- racter. The administration seemed to smile upon the Catho- lics in consequence of this compliance with the law, and con- veyed assui-ances that they should be emancipated provided they gave " securities." The bland duplicity of Castlereagh was perceptible in this proposition, for by " securities" he meant the Veto. The chief " security" which the aristocracy sought was the nomination of the Catholic bishops. This aroused the indignation of O'Connell, who saw through the fraud. " Can there be any honest man deceived by the cant and cry for securities?" he asks. ''Does any man believe that there is safety in insult, oppression, and contumely ; and that secu- rity is necessary against conciliation, liberality, and protection ? Who is it that is idiot enough to believe that he is quite safe * Then M.P. for Limerick. LIFE AND TIMES OF o'CONNELL. 173 in animosity, disunion, and dissension, and wants a protection against harmony, benevolence, and charity — that in hatred there is safety, in affection ruin — that now that we are ex- cluded from the constitution, we may be loyal ; but that if we were interested personally in its safety, we should wish to de- stroy it ? But this is a pitiable delusion. There was a time, indeed, when sanctions and securities might have been deemed necessaiy — when the Catholic was treated as an enemy to God and man — when his property was the prey of legalised plun- der, his rehgion and its ministers the objects of legalised per- secution — when, in contempt and defiance of the dictates of justice and the faith of treaties, the aristocratic faction in the land turned the Protestant into an intolerant and murderous bigot, in. order that it might in security plunder that very Pro- testant and oppress his and our common country. Poor, ne- glected Ireland ! At that period secmities might be supposed wanting; the people of Ireland — the Catholic population of Ireland — were then as brave and strong comparatively as they are at present ; and the country then afi'orded advantages for the desultory warfare of a valiant peasantry, which fortunately have since been exploded by increasing cultivation. At the period to which I allude the Stuart family were still in exist- ence ; they possessed a strong claim to the exaggerating alle- giance and unbending fidelity of the Irish people. Every right that hereditary descent could give, the royal race of Stuai-t possessed ; in private life, too, they were endeared to the Irish, because they were, even the worst of them, gentle- men. But they had still stronger claims on the sympathy and generosity of the Irish — they had been exalted, and were fallen — they had possessed thrones, and were in poverty. All the enthusiastic sympathies of the Irish heart were roused for them, and all the powerful motives of personal interest bore in the same channel. The restoration of their rights, the triumph of their religion, the restitution of their ancient inheritances would have been the certain consequences of the success of the Stuart family in their pretensions to the throne. At the period to which I allude the Catholic clergy were bound by no oath of allegiance ; to be a dignitary of the Ca- tholic Church in Ireland was a transportable felony ; and the oath of allegiance was so intermingled with religious tenets, that no clergyman or layman could possibly take it. At that period the Catholic clergy were all educated in foreign coun- tries, under th^eye of the Pope and within the inspection of the house of Stuart. Issuing fi'om fifty-eight colleges and 174 LIFE AND TIBIES OF o'CONNELL. convents on the Continent, tlie Catholic clergy repaired to meet, for the sake of their God, poverty, persecution, contumely, and not unfrequently death in their native land. They were often hunted like wild beasts, and could never claim any protection from the law. That — that was a period when securities might well have been necessary. But what was the fact? Why, that the clergy and laity of the Ii'ish Catholics having once submitted to the new government, and plighted their unbroken faith to King William and his successors — the Ii'ish CathoHcs having fought for their legitimate sovereign until he himself, and not they, fled from the strife — adopted by treaty his English successor, though not his heir, and transferred to that successor and the inheritors of his throne then' allegiance. They have preseiTed their covenant — with all the temptations and motives to disaffection — and fulfilled their part of the social contract, even in despite of its violation by the other party. As the Catholics were faithful in those dismal and persecuting periods, when they were exasperated by the emaciating cruelty, barbarous law, and wretched policy — as they were then faith- ful, notwithstanding every temporal and every religious tempta- tion and excitement to the contrary, is it in human credulity to believe my Lord Castlereagh when he asserts that securities are now necessary — now that the ill-fated house of Stuart is extinct — now that the Catholic clergy are educated in Ireland ?" The question before the legislature in those days was not whether Emancipation should be granted, but whether the pe- tition for relief should be considered. In the year 1812, the CathoHcs obtained .what they esteemed a gi-eat victory — that is, they were turned out. To explain this we must state that the Marquis of Wellesley proposed in the Lords, that the House should take into consideration "the state of the laws affecting his majesty's Eoman Cathohc subjects in Great Britain and Ire- land." This motion was rejected by a majority of one. Such close proximity to success was regarded by the Catholics as little less than victory, and their elation could only be equalled by the deep dismay that fell upon the alarmed Orangemen. The votes in favom' of the motion were 125, against it 126. If they did not win the race, at least the CathoHcs seemed to touch the goal. The black shadow of degradation into which they were sunk, may be measured by the sunny gladness which this gleam of success diffused over the hearts and faces of this oppressed people. This shadow wiU appear very gloomy if we remember that it was not Hberty which the Lords seemed on the point of conceding — it was permission to lodge the LIFE AND TIMES OF O'CONNELL. 175 petition — leave to beg. To counteract this accident — as we be- lieve it to have been — a howl resounded from the Orange lodges which was expected to appal the Catholics ; and a cry got up in the English newspapers, which the hu'eling journals of Ire- land re-echoed. O'Connell alluding to this said: "The pious Lord Eldon, with his conscience and his calculations, and that immaculate distributor of criminal justice, Lord Ellen- borough, were in a majority of one. By what holy means think you ? Why, by the aid of that which cannot be de- scribed in dignified language — by the aid of a lie — a positive, palpable lie. This manoeuvre was resorted to — a scheme wor- thy of its authors — they had perceived the ellect of the manly, dignified resolutions of the 18th June.- These resolutions had absolutely terrified om* enemies, whilst they cheered those friends who had preferred the wishes and the wants of the people of Ireland to the gi-atification of paltry and disgraceful minions. The manoeuvre — the scheme — was calculated to get rid of the eftect of those resolutions — nay, to turn their force against us — and thus was the pious fraud eflected. There is, you have heard, a newspaper in the permanent pay of pecula- tion and corruption, printed in London, under the name of the Courier — a paper worthy of the meridian of Constantinople at its highest tide of despotism. This paper was directed to assert the receipt of a letter from Dublin declaiing, I know not how many peers, sons of peers, and baronets, had retracted the resolutions of the 18th June ; that those resolutions were carried by surprise, and that they had been actually rescinded at a subsequent meeting. Never did hi^an baseness invent a more gross untruth ; never did a more unfounded lie fall from the father of falsehood ; never did human turpitude be- come the vehicle of so glaring a dereliction of truth. But the Courier received its pay, and it was ready to earn the wages of its prostitution. It did so ; it published the foul falsehoods vdth. the full knowledge of their falsehood ; it published them in two editions — the day before and the day of the debate, at a period when inquiry was useless — when a contradiction from authority could not arrive : at that moment this base trick was played, through the intervention of that newspaper, upon the British public. Will that public go too far when they charge this impure stratagem on those whose purposes it served ? Why, even in this country the administration deems it neces- sary to give, for the support of one miserable paper, two places — one of five and the other of eight hundi-ed a-year — the stamp * The witchery resolutions. 176 LIFE AND IBIES OF o'CONNELL. duty remitted, the proclamations paid for as advertisements, and a permanent bonus of one hundred pounds per annum ! If the bribe here be so high, what must it be in England, where the toil is so much greater ? And think you, then, the Courier published, unsanctioned by its paymasters, this useful lie?" On this occasion, as on many others, O'Connell wasted his great powers in replying to the British press. The unprin- cipled men who wrote for the London journals were then, as they are now, mere mercenaries working for bread. The only answer which these hirelings understand must be addressed, not to the caitiffs themselves, but to the aristocracy who em- ploy them. The press of London will never cease to lie until its managers cease to pay. The latter believe that truth is an element for which the newspaper is a substitute. The aristo- cracy cannot dispose of events — they cannot make rain fall, or diffuse the golden glow of summer over an ice-cro^vned landscape ; but they can make the public believe that black is white, that day is night, and misery prosperity, which is nearly the same thing. They act upon the principle of Queen Eliza- beth, who said: "If a lie is believed for three days, it serves all the purposes of truth." The loudest of their unscrupulous writers would be as silent as mummies if they were deprived of their pay. O'Connell should not have considered them worthy of his eloquent anger. He threw away his brilliant talents in replying to them. They should not be subjected to the cog- nizance of criticism ; they should be subjected but to the cog- nizance of the police. Could O'Connell have devised a means of shutting up the pu^e of the employer, he would have imme- diately palsied the hand of the literaiy drudge. This was the opinion ac least of Napoleon I., when he issued the Milan de- crees against British commerce. He knew his adversaries were shopkeepers, whose sensibilities could be reached only through their shop. The Irish do not appreciate the base sordidness, the despicable meanness of the n^oney-grubbers who rule them. The English journalists write not because they believe their own statements, but because they are paid for bearing false witness against God's truth. A very suspi- cious paragraph relative to the press occurs in the Irish cor- respondence of Sir A. Wellesley. " I am one of those," wi-ites Su- A. Wellesley to Sir Charles Saxton, Bart., 10th April, 1809, *' who think that "it will be very dangerous to allow the press in Ireland to take care of itself, particularly as it has so long been in leading-strings. I would therefore recommend that in proportion as you will diminish the profits of the better LIFE AND TIITES OP O'CONXELL. 177 kinds of newspapers, such as the Correspondent and the Free- man^ s Journal,--- and some others of that class, on account of proclamations, you should increase the sum they are allowed to charge on account of advertisements and other publications. It is absolutely necessary, however, to keep the charge within the sum of £10,000 per annum." When he wrote this letter. Sir Arthur Wellesley was about to quit Ireland, and join what the poet terms *' The well-bred c — k — Ids of St, James's air ;"t and he scrupulously discharges his conscience by instructing his successors in the mystery of deluding and cheating the ii'ish by means of their newspapers. In "the same volume we find additional proof that the aristocracy and their tail find it necessary to suborn the press in order to oppress the people. J. Pollock of Navan, wi'iting on 12th January, 1809, to Sir Arthur Wellesley, says : ''If you have Walter Cox, who keeps a small book-shop in Anglesea-street, he can let you into the whole object of sending this book| to Ireland at this time ; and ,fui'ther, if 3'ou have not Cox, believe me no sum of money at all within reason would be amiss in rivetting him to govern- ment. I have spoken of this man before to Sir Edward Littlehales and to Sir Charles Saxton. He is the most able and, if not secured, by far the most formidable man that I know of in Ireland. The talk we have had about Catholic Emancipation," continues Mr. Pollock, " is wholh^, wdth the great body of the Catholics, a cloak to cover their real object. Their real objects are political power, the Chm'ch estates, and the Protestant property in Ireland." Before they employed the sunshine of favour, the government determined to try the storm of persecution on Walter Cox. He was, in 1811, prosecuted by the aristocracy and defended by Daniel O'Connell. " My lords," said O'Connell, addi'essing the judges in mitigation of punishment, "I am compelled to en- treat your attention to a few observations by the particular request of my unfortunate client. My lords, attempts have been made to blacken my client's character by describing him as a systematic and common libeller. I trust that such in- sinuations will have no weight with this court, or diminish the claim of my client to its mercy. It is of com'se the present duty of the comi) to dismiss from their minds every other * The Freeman at that time was the property of P. W. Harvey, Esq. t Pope's " Moral Essays." J The hook was entitlfid " Fieces of Irish History," by William James M'Nevin, New York. 178 LIFE AND TniES OF O'COXXELL. blameable publication, and confine their attention to that imme- diately before them. This publication is wiitten in a manner which must greatly ciixumscribe the range of its mischief — ab- surd and unintelligible, extremely vulgar, but extremely obscure ; level to the language of the common people by its expression, but entirely hid from their understandings by its incongruity. Thus it is unintelligible to those on whom the mischief could operate, and it carries its own antidote to those who have the ingenuity to extricate meaning from the mass of absurdity. My lords, as to punishment by considerable fine — strictly speaking, punishment of any kind cannot afiect him in a pecu- niary way. His poverty protects him. Punishment by fine in his case cannot operate against income, but may against industry. It cannot reduce competence to poverty, but may re- duce poverty to want. His fomily are fed by his labour ; exclude him by imprisonment from the opportunities of labour, and you will punish the childi-en for the crime of the father, and decree that the innocent shall suflfer for the guilty. I shall not any longer detain your lordships' attention. I commit my client to the clemency of the court, in the confident hope that* you will feel it to be your constitutional duty not to punish incidental licentiousness so much as to preserve the exercise of a free press." Notwithstanding the speech of O'Connell, Cox was found guilty on two indictments, and sentenced alike to stand in the pillory and languish in a jail — punishments which added to his popularity, and rendered the circulation of his magazine more extensive than before. A subject alluded to in a speech of O'Connell's which we have already quoted — the " secmities" — received new light from an incident which took place at an aggregate meeting of the Catholics in 1812. At this meeting Chevalier McCarthy appeared. This man, whose education was entirely foreign — a comparative stranger in Ii'eland — allowed himself to be used by the Catholic aristocracy for the most insidious purposes. He wanted to elicit from the Catholics something like a vote of confidence in Lord Liverpool's administration. His attempt drew out Counsellor O'Gorman, who assailed the adminis- tration in language which deserves perusal. "It is an ad- ministration," said O'Gorman, '' formed on the principle of Catholic exclusion. The prime minister is the avowed and inveterate foe of the Catholics. The majority of the cabinet consist of bitter enemies ; the xemaining part of it disavowing us and disclaiming our Emancipation, even fettered and re- LIFE AND TIMES OF o'CONNELL. 179 stricted as they would give it. They have been for seven years past talking of those 'fences,' 'guards,' 'vetoes,' 're- strictions,' and as they now call them ' hitches ;' and they have not as yet told us what they want or what we are to do. They have not agreed on this yet among themselves, and they call on us to anticipate by our offers the result of their own discordant counsels. And to those men you are called on to humiliate youi'selves. You are called on to sa- crifice your consistency to the indecisive votes of a House of Commons who would at one moment declare a ministry vicious and incapable, and at the next moment establish them in power by a vote of confidence. Ai'e we, for such votes as these, to barter our rights and betray oui* principles — those principles which sustained us in times of the severest calamity. Let me, my countrymen, recall to your recollection the sufferings and privations of our oppressed ancestors, and the heroism and constancy with which those persecuted Irish- men endured them. Remember the accursed code that bowed them to the earth. Behold them reduced to the condition of exiles in their native land — hunted like wild beasts, without the common protection or countenance of the negro slaves ; their religion proscribed — the heaviest penalties inflicted on the exer- cise of it ; the rights of Christianity denied them ; the ser\dce of heaven and of our common God heard by stealth in the open air under the inclemency of the weather — often under the shelter of the ditch- side, when the sequestered glen and desert hedge formed our only chapel. Yet in this state of debase- ment and humiliation — if anything could humble such beings — our ancestors never offered or received degrading terms. They clung to their religion as their best consolation in this world — their only stay and hope in the next. They never forfeited their honour." Chevalier M'Carthy was baffled. The administration of Lord Liverpool was not only assailed by the orators — the wits like-ndse assailed it. The following squib, which went the round of the papers in 1812, entitled, *' What is my thought like ?" acquired considerable celebrity ; '* ^ly thought is a night-cap ; aud now by what rule Is a night-cap, I pray you, hke Lord Liverpool ? Because it is still — be it white, red, or brown — A somniferous thing — much attached to the crown. The bold spirit which the lawj^ers infused into the Catholic Board was evinced by the fact, that on 7th July, 1812, the members declared theii' sittings permanent. They declared that they should meet dm^ing the long vacations imQQ a month, 180 LIFE AND TIMES OF o'CONNELL. and exercise a vigilant attention as to the afifairs of the Catho- lics until November, when they contemplated calling an aggre- gate meeting. The Catholic aristocracy were dissatisfied with this vigilance, the advantages of which they could not see — especially at a period when the legislature had liberally con- ceded the principle of their quebiion, and all the signs of the times, the lights on the horizon, appeared to foreshow the ap- proaching dawn of Catholic freedom. O'Connell replied, that he sincerely rejoiced the legislature had sanctioned the justice and policy of conceding their claims. But the legislature was not the administration, and upon the administration of Ireland the decision alluded to did not appear to have the slightest in- fluence. The Orange lodges were at work, and the tone adopted by the ministerial press was fall of menace. The Morning Post and Courier, under the evident instruction of the ministry, were labom-ing to raise a cry against the Catho- lics, which the heartless and despicable slaves who had sold themselves to the aristocracy in this country were ready to re-echo. O'Connell, by his assiduous labours — first in the Catholic Committee ; secondly, in the Catholic Board — was laying the foundation, and, indeed, building the superstructui'e of that world-wide renown which he subsequently enjoyed, but which, like all earthly advantages, aflbrded less pleasure when pos- sessed than when pursued. "I have been sometimes amused at the whimsical mode in which the popular devotion to him manifested itself," says his secretary. "He lived in the hearts of old and young. Ascending the mountain road be- tween Dublin and GlencuUen, in company with an English friend, O'Connell was met by a funeraJ. The mourners soon recognised him, and immediately broke into a vociferous hm-rah for their political favourite, much to the astonishment of the Sassanach, who, accustomed to the solemn and lugubrious decorum of English funerals, was not prepared for an outburst of Celtic enthusiasm on such an occasion, A remark being made on the oddity of a political hurrah at a funeral, it was replied that the corpse would have cheered lustily too — if he could!" When something was said by O'Connell's secretary of his posthumous fame — "Alas! alas!" he answered, in a tone of great solemnity, " and of what use will future fame be to me when I am dead and judged?" "Yet," said the secretary, "I think you certainly indulge in the expectation of fame. Have you not often said both LIFE AND TIMES CF O'CONNELL. 181 publicly, and to myself in private, that your deeds are making part of history ?" *' I spoke of it," said O'Connell, '' as the fact — not as desiring fame. If I know myself at all, I really do think I never did any one action with a view to fame." " I daresay that in no one action you had fame exclusively in view. I firmly believe in your honest desire to advance the pubHc good ; but I think you appreciate very highly the ap- proving opinions of yom- countrymen." *'Aye," said O'Connell, "those amongst whom I live and act ; but I do most potently feel the utter worthlessness of all posthumous applause. Little .will we care for it when we are like those who lie there (he was passing a churchyard). See what a populous graveyard that is ! We ought to repeat a petition for the souls of those whose bodies are interred there ; yet a little, and we shall need the like charity ourselves !" Passing from Killamey to Millstreet, O'Connell pointed out the farm of Lisnababie. " I may say with honest pride," said O'Connell, "that I was a good help to keep that farm in the hands of its rightful owner, Lalor of Ivillarney. I was yet young at the bar, when Jerry Connor (the attorney concerned for Lalor) gave me two ten-guinea fees in the Lisnababie case. Lalor remonstrated with Connor, stating that the latter had no right to pay so expensive a compliment out of his money to so young a barrister. This was at a very early period of the cause, which was tried in Dublin before Sir Michael Smith. But a motion being made in court to dismiss Lalor's bill, I rose and combated it so successfully that Sir Michael Smith particulary complimented me ; and Lalor wrote to Jeny Con- nor, saying that I gave him the full worth of his money, and desiring (what indeed was a matter of course) that I should be retained for the assizes. We were finally successful, and I had the chief share in the triumph." Passing by a gravel pit, O'Connell said: "That is the very spot where Brennan the robber was killed. Jerry Connor was going from Dublin to Kerry, and was attacked by Brennan at that spot. Brennan presented his pistol, crjdng, ' Stand !' 'Hold!' cried Jerry Connor. "Don't fii-e — here's my pm'se.' The robber, thrown off his guard by these words, lowered his weapon, and Jerry, instead of a purse, drew a pistol from his pocket — and shot Brennan in the chest. Brennan's back was supported at the time against the ditch, so he did not fall. He took deliberate aim at Jerry, but feeling himself mortally wounded, dropped his pistol, cravded over the ditch, and 182 LIFE AND TIMES OF O'COXNELL. slowly walked along, keeping parallel with the road. He then crept over another ditch, under which he was found dead the next morning." "At a part of the road between Kildare and Rathcoole," continues O'Neill Daunt, '' O'Connell pointed out the place where Leonard MacNally, son to the barrister of the same name, alleged he had been robbed of a large sum. To indem- nify himself for his alleged loss, he tried to levy the money off the county. ' A pair of greater rogues than father and son never lived,' said O'Connell ; ' and the father was busily endea- vouring to impress upon every person he knew a beHef that his son had been really robbed* Among others, he accosted Parsons, then M.P. for the Iviug's county, in the hall of the Fom* Courts. '' Parsons! Parsons, my dear fellow!" said old Leonard, " did you hear of my son's robbery ?" '* No," an- swered Parsons quietly, " I did not — whom did he rob ?" O'Neill Daunt mentioned a conservative barrister named CoUis, who, in 1800, had wi'itten an anti-Union pamphlet pre- dicting the ruin of the country from that measure, and who Hved long enough to see his predictions verified : " Ah ! I knew Collis too," said O'Connell ; " he was a clever fellow. He had talent enough to have made a figure at the bar, if it had not been for the indolence induced by his com- fortable prosperity. His wife was a Miss Rashleigh,';= an un- commonly beautiful woman. He and I went cii'cuit together. Going down to the Munster circuit by the Tullamore boat, we amused ourselves on deck firing pistols at the elms along the canal. There was a small party of soldiers onboard, and one of them authoritatively deshed us to stop filing. ' Ah ! corporal, don't be so cruel,' said Collis, still firing away. ' Are you a cor- poral ?' asked I. He smiily replied in the affirmative. * You must have got youi'self reduced to the ranks by misconduct, for I don't see the V's on your sleeve.' This raised a laugh at his expense, and he slunk ofl'to the stern quite chap-fallen." Among O'Connell's fellow-labom'ers in the Catholic Board Counsellor 0' Gorman was not the least remarkable. *' O'Gor- man," said O'Connell, " previously to Emancipation, was one of the most violent out-and-out partisans of the Catholic party. He often declared that I did not go far enough. We were once standing together in the inn at Ennis, and I took up a prayer-book which lay in the window and said, kissing it : * By \irtue of this book, I will not take place or office from the * On the occasion of this marriage the punsters said, that " Collis had been a long time thinldng of marrying — and at last manied rashly." LIFE AND TIMES OF O'CONNELL. 183 government until Emancipation is carried. Now O'Gorman, my man, will you do as much ?' O'Gorman put the book to his lips, but immediately put it away, saying : ' I won't swear ; I need not. My word is as good as my oath. I am sure of my o^Ti fidelity !' " When Chief Baron O'Grady heard this story he remarked, " They were both quite right. Government has nothing worth O'Connell's while to take until Emancipa- tion be carried ; but anything at all would be good enough for O'Gorman." Some one having remarked to O'Grady that Lord Castle- reagh, by his ministerial management, had made a great cha- racter for himself. " Has he ?" said O'Grady. ''Faith, if he has he's just the boy to spend it like a gentleman." "O'Grady," continued O'Connell, '*' was at one time an- noyed by the disorderly noise in the court-house of Tralee. He bore it quietly for some time, expecting that Denny (the high sheriff) would interfere to restore order. Finding, how- ever, that Denny, who was reading in his box, took no notice of the riot, O'Grady, who was presiding judge, rose fi'om the bench and called out to the studious high sheriff : 'Mr. Denny, I have just got up to hint that I am afraid the noise in court will prevent you from reading your novel in quiet.' " " After O'Grady had retned from the bench some person, one day, placed a large . stuffed owl on the sofa beside him. The bird was of enormous size, and had been brought as a great curiosity from tlie tropics. O'Grady gaped at the owl for a moment, seemed lost in wonder for a few seconds, and then said, with a gesture of peevish impatience, waving his hand rapidly and averting his head : ' Take away that fowl ! take away that fowl ! Take it away — take it away ! If you don't, I shall fancy I am seated again on the bench beside Baron Foster !'" Those who have seen Baron Foster on the bench can best appreciate the felicitous resemblance traced by his venerable brother judge between his lordship and an old stuffed owl. "I remember," continued O'Connell, "a witness who was called on to give evidence to the excellent character borne by a man whom O'Grady was trj-ing on a charge of cow-stealing. The witness got on the table with the confident air of a fellow who had a right good opinion of himself. He played a small trick, too, that amused me. He had but one glove, which he used sometimes to put on his right hand, keeping the left in his pocket — and this with the apparent view of impress- ing on the court that he was the happy owner of a complete 184 LIFE AND TIMES OF o'OONNELL. pair of gloves. 'Well,' said O'Graclj to this genius, ' do you know the prisoner at the bar ?' ' I do, right well, my lord.' * And what is his general character ?' 'As honest, decent, well-conducted a man, my lord, as any in Ireland, which all the neighbours knows — only — only there was something about stealing a cow.' ' The very thing the prisoner is accused of,' cried 0' Grady, interrupting the ' witness to character.' " The preceding incident is not without its value, as it evinces the shrewd observation, the keen perspicacity which O'Connell possessed : nothing escaped him. The witness to whom he alludes failed, we may observe, in two things. He failed in convincing the lawyers that a single glove was a pan* — they saw he had but one ; he failed in convincing the judge that the prisoner was an honest man — he saw he was a cow- stealer. The witness thus perpetrated a double blunder. The secret of O'Connell's action lay in his exuberant ability. He was so redolent of power, so full of talent, so pregnant and overflowing with mental energy — bounding, as it were, with mental life — that he could not restrain himself. He desired toil, thirsted for exertion, and longed for arduous labour com- mensm'ate with his gigantic powers ; and he found ample mate- rial — "verge and room" enough in the horrible condition of unhappy Ireland. Ireland resembled the Augepu stable, and he resembled the Hercules who cleaned it. An .;l ipulse of power as well as of conscience urged him forward in spite of himself — swept him along and made him an orator and an agitator whether he would or not. He resembled a young, powerful, and unrestrainable horse, that lifts its head, tosses its mane, and careers sweepingly over the plain — not irom necessity but from the exuberance of its animal vigour. He plunged joyously and almost involuntarily into tl e war that was going on for Catholic rigiits, owing to the gushing and irresistible force which welled ^\'ithin him. He was not his own master in the presence of such a strife. On the dangerous verge of that constitutional battle he could not abstain from rishing in, and exercising and exliibiting the genius which possessed and would not let him repose. O'Connell possessed a power which some of the gi'eatest orators have been wanting in — that of impromptu- oratory. TEe meditated his matter, arranged his arguments beforehand in his mind, but trusted to the excitement of the moment for the language and the tone. The oratory of O'Connell has been compared to that of Mirabeau ; but in one respect the Irish far surpassed the French tribune. Mii'abeau possessed little LIFE AND TIMES OF o'CONNELL. 185 power as a debater — in the English meaning of the word ; whereas, it was in answering to evidence that O'Connell dis- played his superiority. Mirabeau, it is alleged, carefully pre- pared the bui'sts of eloquence with which he occasionally electrified the assembly, and w^henever he had a formal state- ment or argument to deliver, he read from a paper, like his brother deputies. The discom-ses of Chateaubriand were read, not spoken — a circumstance which shows that the most bril- liant men in the most brilliant of continental nations may be inferior to an Irishman. Lord Brougham has acknow^ledged that the peroration of his principal speech on the queen's trial was penned seven times over; and no one who heard Mr. Canning's opening speech on the Portuguese affairs, in 1826, or his defence of Mr. Huskisson's commercial policy, could doubt that he was indebted to his memory. Such reciters are never thoroughly popular — are never in perfect harmony with their audience, as O'Connell always was. The god of the Pythoness, who agitates its victim and makes him utter inspirations in his own despite, is never felt by reciters. The reciter is the man of yesterday — he recals the past; whilst the orator should be the man of the moment, and extemporize the present. This is precisely what O'Connell did. Hence, a French writer says of him: '' Eloquence has not all its in- fluence — its strong, sj^mpathetic, stirring influence — except on the people. Look at O'Connell — the greatest, perhaps the only orator of modern times. What a Colossus! How he draws himself up to his fall height ! How his voice sways and governs the waves of the multitude ! I am not an Ii-ishman ; I have never seen O'Connell ; I do not know his language ; I should not understand were I to listen to him. Why, then, am I more moved by his discourses — badly translated, dis- coloured, maimed, stripped of the allurements of style, gesture, and voice — than by all those heard in my own country ? It is because they bear no resemblance to om- rhetoric, which is disfigui'ed by paraphrase ; because passion, true passion, in- spires him — the passion which can say everythmg. It is be- cause he tears me from the ground, rolls and drags me into his torrent — that he trembles, and I tremble — that he kindles, and I feel myself burning — that he weeps, and tears fill my eyes — that his soul utters cries, which ravish mine — that he carries me off upon his wings, and sustains me in the hallovv^ed transports of liberty. Under the impression of his mighty eloquence, I abhor and detest with a furious hatred the tyrants of that unfortunate coui^try, as if I were the countryman oi 186 LIFE AND TI5IES OP O'CONNELL. O'Connell ; and I take to loving la Verte Islande as much as if it was my own country."* O'Connell's eloquence did not consist in the dexterous struc ture of periods, the grace of action, or the powers of delivery : it did not resemble a beautiful body adorned with sj-mmetry, but destitute of vigom*. In the most imperfect relics of O'Con- nell's speeches, the bones of a giant are to be discovered. He excelled in clear and forcible argument, in ready and dexterous reply, and in bold and defiant denunciations of tyi-anny. His invective was frequently powerful : it sometimes, however, de- generated into commonplace personal vituperation. The follo^ving is one of the best morceaux of O'Connell's eloquence as regards beauty of sentiment and felicity of ex- pression. He had been speaking of the penal code : " Your priesthood were hunted and put to death; yet your hierarchy has remained unbroken — a noble monument of your faith and your piety. The traveller who wanders over eastern deserts beholds the majestic temples of Balbec or PalmjTa, which rear their proud columns to heaven in the midst of soli- tude and desolation. Such is the Church of Ireland. In the midst of our political desolation a sacred PalmjTa has ever re- mained to us. It is true, our altars have been broken down, and the gold and silver have been taken away ; the temple has been desecrated, and its sacred tenants scared or forced to %. But the moral Palmyi'a still stands in the midst of the desert. Its columns of eternal truth still tower to the clouds. The Church of the people of Ireland has survived the wreck of time ; the hierarchy exists in the plenitude of its integrity — a glorious monument of the religious fidelity and steady faith of the Catholics of Ireland." The peroration of the speech which O'Connell delivered on the 24th July, 1812, is likewise a masterpiece: "Britain," he said, " has been often conquered — the Romans conquered her — the Saxons conquered her — the Normans conquered her — in short, whenever she was invaded she was conquered. But our country was never subdued — we never lost our hberties in battle, nor did we ever submit to armed conquerors. It is .true, the old inhabitants lost their country in piece-meal by fraud and treachery. They relied upon the faith of men who never, never observed a treaty, until a new and mixed race has sprung up in dissension and discord. But the Irish heart and Boul still predominate and pervade the sons of the oppressors themselves. The generosity, the native bravery, the innate * ^'Eludes sur les Orateurs Parlementaires,^' Par Timon, Paris, 1839. LIFE AKD TIMES OF O'CONNELL. 187 fidelity, the enthusiastic love of whatever is gi'eat and noble — those splendid characteristics of the Ii'ish mind remain as the imperishable relics of oui' country's former greatness — of that illustrious period' when she was the light and the glory of bar- barous Europe, when the nations around sought for instruction and example in her numerous seminaries, and when the civi- lization and religion of all Em'ope were presented in her alone. You will, my friends, defend her. You may die, but you can- not jaeld to any foreign invader. Whatever be my fate, I shall be happy while I live in re\*i^dng amongst you the love and admiration of your native land, and in calling upon Irish- men — no matter how they may worship then* common God — to sacrifice every contemptible prejudice on the altar of their common countr3^ For myself, I shall conclude by expressing the sentiment that throbs in my heart — I shall express it in the language of a young bard of Erin- — my beloved friend, whose muse has the music of the ancient native minstrelsy : * Still sbalt thou be my midnight dream — Thy glory still my waking theme ; And every thought and ^vish of mine, Uncouquered Erin, shall be thine.' " There is nothing in the character of O'Connell more pleasing than his candid appreciation of mental or poetical power. He often pauses in the torrent of his oratory to turn aside and pay a tribute at the shrine of intellectual ability. The indignant scorn with which he occasionally flouted the hollow aristo- cracy of title, is only equalled by the honest respect which he tenders to the genuine aristocracy of talent. We have seen in page 128 how eulogistically he spoke of Cobbett in public. His private opinion of that able politician we gather from the writings of O'Xeill Daunt. It was highly complimentary — he said: ''Cobbett's mind had not an extensive grasp, but what it could lay hold on, it gi'asped with iron force. He w^as ho- nest ; he never saw more than one side of a subject at a time, and he honestly stated his impression of the side he saw." O'Connell's praise was called forth in the former instance by an article in the famous *' Register." In describing the festival of St. Patrick, which the Irish in London celebrated on the 17th of March, 1812, Cobbett said: "In the account of what passed at the dinner, the Morning Chronicle hath these words : * The noble chairman gave the health of the king, which was drunk with enthusiastic and rapturous ap- plause. And then the noble chairman gave the health of the * Charles Phillips, Esq. 188 LIFE AND TI3IES OF 0'CONNE».L. prince regent, which was drunk with partial applause and loud and reiterated hisses.' This is a new era, indeed," ob- serves Cobbett. " At the meeting where these hisses are said to have been heard, there used formerly to be, at the mention of the prince's name, such shouts of applause that a stranger to the cause might have well supposed the company mad. Indeed it was disgusting to read, in this same Morning Chro- nicle, the plastered-on praises which, at these festivals, used to be bestowed on the prince. It was quite loathsome to hear such more than parasitical applause. There is, however, now a change. The new era has done this for us at any rate — it has relieved us from the beholding of some of the most base and nauseous adulation that ever was witnessed in the world. But the hisses — not only the absence of applause, but actual, audible hisses at the health of the prince being drunk — this could not pass unnoticed by Eichard Brinsley Sheridan, he being present and having, it seems, resolved to stick by the prince. . . . The hisses at the nan 9 of the prince for- bade Mr. Sheridan to remain silent ; and, it is stated, that when his health was drank, he rose and made a speech of which the following is an account : * Mr. Sheridan at length arose and, in a low tone of voice, returned thanks for the honourable notice by which so large a body of his countrymen thought proper to distinguish him (applause). He had ever been proud of Ireland, and hoped that his country might never have cause to be ashamed of him. Ii'eland never for- got those who did all they could do, ho\\ever little that might be, in behalf of her best interests He confessed frankly that knovring as he did the unaltered and unalter- able sentiments of an illustrious personage towards Ireland, he could not conceal from the meeting that he felt considerably shocked at the sulky coldness and surly discontent mth which they had, on that evening, di'unk the health of the prince regent (disapprobation). When silence was somewhat re- stored, Mr. Sheridan said, that he knew the prince regent well (hisses) — he knew his principles (hisses) — they would at least give him credit for beliering that he knew them when he said he did (applause). He repeated that he knew well the sentiments of the prince ; and so well satisfied was he that they were all that Ireland could wish, that he (Mr. Sheridan) hoped, that as he had Hved up to them, so he might die in the prmciples of the prince regent (hisses and applause). He should be sorry personally to have merited their disapproba- tion (.cries of " change the subject !" and " speak out !"). LIFE AND TIMES OF o'CONNELL. 189 He could onlj'- assm-e them that the prince remained un- changeably true to those principles (here the clamours be- came so general that the speaker became inaudible).' Oh, poor Sheridan!" continues Cobbett; ''hissed down by his own countrymen— hooted down by those very persons who for- merly heard him with such raptm-es. Here he ends, then — • or if not, what is he reserved for ? What is to be his fate ? What are we to see him do before he dies ? Perhaps there is not, in the history of man, so complete an instance of sinking as we have hew. before us. There was a time when Mr. Sheridan was not only looked upon, but was second to no man in England in point of talent. If I look thi'ough the pro- ceedings in parliament from 1785 to 1796, I find him the most active, the most powerful, the most efficient opposer of Pitt and his band. I find all his motions well framed and well timed ; all his speeches eloquent — and not only eloquent, but full of information, full of fact, of argument, and discovering a deep insight into all the subjects, however complicated, upon which he touched. In short, I see in every page the orator, the scholar, the philosopher, the statesman, and to crown all — the fi'iend of freedom. And what in the same man do I see now ? An underling of the Jenkinsons and the Per- cevals!" Moore has attempted, with reference to some occurrences of the year 1812, to defend the conduct of Sheridan. He says : " The main motive of the whole proceeding is to be found in his devoted deference to what he knew to be the wishes and foelings of that personage who had become now, more than ever, the mainspring of all his movements — whose spell over him, in this instance, was too strong for even his sense of character ; and to whom he might well have applied the words of one of his own beautiful songs : * Friends, fortune, fame itself I'd lose To gain one smile from thee.' So fatal, too often, are royal friendships, whose attraction — like the loadstone in eastern fable that di'ew the nails out oi the luckless ships that came near it — steals gradually away the strength by which character is held together, till at last it loosens at all points, and falls to pieces — a wreck. . . . The transaction in 1812, relative to the royal household, was, as I have already stated* the least defensible part of Sheridan's public life. But it should be recollected how broken he was, both in mind and body, at that period. His resources from the theatre at an end — the shelter of parliament about, to be 190 LIFE AIs'D TIMES OF o'CONNELL. taken from over his head also, and old age and sickness coming on as every hope and comfort vanished ; and, that even character itself should, in a too zealous moment, have been one of the sacrifices offered up at the shrine that protected him, is a subject more of deep regret than of wonder. The poet Cowley, in speakir of the unproductiveness of those pursuits connected with /t and fancy, says beautifully, 'Where such fairies o. je have danced, no grass will ever grow/ But unfortunately thorns will grow there ; and he who walks unsteadily among such thorns as now beset the once en- chanted path of Sheridan, ought not, after all, to be very severely criticised."-!^ Among the last sentences uttered by Sheridan in the House were the following : " My objection to the present ministry is, that they are avowedly arrayed and embodied against a prin- ciple — that of concession to the Catholics of Ii-eland — which I think, and must always think, essential to the safety of this empire. I will never give my vote to any administration that opposes the question of Catholic Emancipation. I will not consent to receive a furlough upon that particular question, even though a ministry were carrj'ing every other that I mshed. In fine, I think the situation of Ireland a paramount considera- tion. If they were to be the last words I should ever utter in this House, I should say : ' Be just to Ii-eland, as you value your own honom- — be just to Ii'eland, as you value your own peace.' " '' The reporters," says a French emigre who resided in England in 1812 — "the reporters are persons employed by the editors of newspapers to take notes of the principal speeches in parliament. They were seated behind me in the gallery," he adds, " and I took advantage of the opportunity to observe their mode of proceeding. Far from setting down all that is said, they only take notes to appearance very carelessly — one word in a hundi'ed — to mark the leading points. It is diffi- cult to understand how they can aiterwards give the connected speeches we see in the newspapers out of such slender mate- rials, and with so little time to prepare them ; speeches of the night, spoken perhaps at two or three o'clock in^ the morning or later, being served up to the luxurious inhabitants of the capital at then- breakfast the same morning. What a life ! One of these reporters named Woodfall, who is dead, was able, without notes and entirely from memory, to write on his return * !* Memoirs of Richard Brinsley Sheridan," by Thomas Moore. LIFE AND TiaiES OF O'CONNELL. 191 from the House all that had been said worth repeating. They are crowded in the gallery with the rest of the people, writing on their knees in a constrained attitude, laughing and whisper- ing jokes among themselves about the solemn business going forward below, and often praying that such-and-such tiresome speakers may soon have done, and sit down again." It has been alleged by physiologists that were we gifted with transparent bodies — could we see into our frames, we should observe processes going on simultaneously in our economy which would not only startle but terrify us — the labour of the stomach, the operations of the intestines, the action of the heart, the pulsations of the arteries, and the suction of the hungry vessels which carry in incessant streams of blood and humours health or disease, vigour or death, to the various organs and members of the body. This melancholy privilege of witnessing the various disasters of the body-politic is conferred by the press on the people of Ireland : we can distinctly see the crow-bar brigade dismantUng the homestead and desolating the rm-al hamlet, and troops of sturdy emigrants, melancholy and slow, toiling to the seaports, or crawling up the side of the merchantman, which unfurls its sails and takes the wind for the antipodes ; we can see, too, the ragged peasants of the re- moter districts cowering in their squalid cabins, and resigning themselves to inevitable death by staiwation ; or the more des- titute beggars dropping dead of hunger, and strewing the wil- derness with their withered remains. We can see the streets of oui* cities swarming with want. We can see hundi'eds of emaciated men standing in groups at every corner, and staring at every stranger of the richer class with the vacant earnest- ly ness of famine — ■^ith star^-ation and despair in their counte- nances, and with their arms hanging in hstlessness at their sides. We can see into the recesses of internal wi'etchedness through the ever open doors, wliere their wives and children are huddled together with scarcely a shred of raiment upon their discoloured and emaciated limbs. This melancholy advan- tage the fi-eedom of the press confers on us. We can observe at once the seat as well as the cause of the disorder — every de- rangement is observed immediately, but the hand unfortunately cannot reach the gangi'ene which the eye discerns, nor the knife remove and cleanse the source of disease. The nations of the Continent, in which the fi'eedom of the press is unknown, but in which the working classes are landowners, may suffer various calamities ; but their eyes are not gi'ieved — theii' hearts are not harrowed by contemplating in aU its horrors disaster 192 LIFE AND TIMES OF o'COXNELL. which they cannot remedy. Hence it would really appear that to a subjugated people who have no hold of the soil, the freedom of the press is rather an evil than a good. It is, as some one has said, the only plague which Moses forgot to inflict on Egypt. Such is the case where the advantages and fruits of natui'e and man are poisoned by the breath of subjugation. To a fi-ee people a free press is a source of benefits. But it may so happen that the generous tree which is crowned • vvith rosy blossoms and teems with wholesome fruit in the open air, may droop in withered barrenness when planted within the walls of a prison. None but a fi'ee people, who enjoy the power of removing the evils then- brethren sufier as well as of knowing their existence, can utilise the press or reap its advantages. To all others it serves, too frequently, as the instrument of hate and dissension rather than of pros- perity and freedom. It did so, even in England, dming the Walcheren expedition (1809), which was a horrible muddle of mismanagement, disaster, incompetence, and bloodshed, in which the lives of English troops were sacrificed in the most wanton and appalhng manner by the stupidity of the aristocracy. It resembled the fii'st year of the Crimean war. The ruling classes were filled with consternation when it was proposed in the House of Commons to inquire into these horrible scandals which could not bear the light. To shut out from their blun- ders the light which the press might fling upon them, one of the ministers determined to get rid of the reporters by enforc- ing the standing orders of the House, and clearing the gallery of strangers. With the \iew of frustrating the minister's pur- pose, Richard Brinsley Sheridan moved an amendment of the standing orders, so as to make it necessary to have a decision of the House before the reporters could be excluded. During the debate which ensued, Mr, Windham asserted that the pre- sence of the reporters could not be very important to the national liberties, as the custom of reporting parliamentary debates commenced only twenty-five or thirty years previously ! Not content with disparaging their art, Mr. Windham assailed the personal character of the reporters. He said they were a gang of bankrupts, footmen out of place, and needy adventurers. He subsequently received from one of them an excellent letter showing, in strong but temperate language, the injustice and illiberality of this personal attack. Mr. Windham did not dis- dain justifying himself by an answer worthy of his talents and character, and ended bv an offer — waiving pri\dlege — of that sort of satisfaction which one gentleman owes to another. LIFE AND TIMES OF O'CONXELL. 193 A certain body of lawyers (benchers of Lincoln's Inn), in order to show their zeal against what they termed "the un- bridled Hcense of the press," had during these debates passed a resolution, by which any person convicted of having ever wi'itten for the newspapers for hire should be excluded fi'om their body. The persons thus expelled presented a petition to parliament praying relief. This gave rise to debates, in the coui'se of which Richard Brinsley Sheridan said that he was ready to produce a long list of men eminent not only in the law and other professions, but in some instances eminent in parliament, who had begun theii' career as writers for the news- papers. He named Mr. Edmund Burke and several others ; and he added, that of twenty-three gentlemen then employed in taking notes in the gallery of the House, eighteen had to his own knowledge been educated in the universities ; most of them had graduated, and several of them had obtained pre- miums and other literary distinctions. He recalled the well- known anecdote of the celebrated Dr. Johnson : two admired speeches of Lord Chatham ha-sdng been compared to those of Cicero and Demosthenes, Johnson was asked which of the two manners, the Greek or the Roman, these speeches resem- bled most. *' I do not Imow," he answered ; " but this I can say — I reported them both . ' ' Would it then have been disgrace- ftil to the benchers to have received Johnson among them ? Not content to exclude the reporters fi'om the bar, they pro- hibited barristers from acting as reporters. An Irish lawyer, named Vemer Moore, had reported a trial and published it in the papers. He was summoned before the benchers and •\dsited with the severest censure. They even ordered that their vote of censure should be publicly read in all the law courts. On this subject the Irish bar held a public meeting at which O'Connell spoke. He said, speaking of the benchers : "It was veiy important first to consider the necessity of this species of tribunal before any discussion arose as to the le- gality of its jui'isdiction ; because if it could be shown to him that such a jurisdiction was necessary for either the honoui* of the judges or the convenience of the suitors, he should not be very scrupulous in investigating its origin or the foundation of its authority. But being deeply impressed with the con- viction, that the contrary was the fact — that this tribunal was unnecessary — that, of its elf, and placed in the hands of the best of men, it was unconstitutional and dangerous — that its immediate efi'ect must be to crush the spirit and indepen- dence of the bar, and to convert an honourable and liberal 9 194 LIFE AXD TDIES OF O'CONNELL. profession into mere retailers of chicane, and servile slaves of authority. With this impression upon his mind, he must solemnly protest against every exercise of power by this tri- bunal — even against a guilty individual, and conjure the bar at once to ascertain their rights, and to trace the limits of this juiisdiction — so that it may be either ascertained to be a mere usurpation, or, if it have a legal existence, that parhament may be resorted to for its abolition. For his part, he had given the subject all the attention in his power; he had in- vestigated all the som'ces of information on this subject, and he had convinced himself that the benchers of the ling's Inns had no legitimate authority over the Irish bar. As a legal or coi^Dorate body it was clear, upon their own confession, that they had no existence. In the late case which they had in- stituted in chanceiy against a jMr. Caldbeck, an objection was taken to then- legal capacity to sue. To this objection they had submitted, and their incapacity to exercise corporate func- tions was therefore matter of record. Prescriptive rights they could claim none. Their history was modem and well known. Charter they had at present none ; about sixteen years ago they obtained one, with an act of pai'liament to confirm it; but this act, which had passed sub silent io, having been dis- covered, the bar remonstrated, and in the ensuing sessions the statute and charter were repealed. Such was the short history of this formidable tribunal — it had no chartered rights, no powers by statute, no claim to prescriptive authority. It was, indeed, mentioned in two or more statutes, but merely to qualify it to take land for the purposes of buildings- statutes that, so far fi'om admitting its general corporate ca- pacity, were direct evidence that none such was in existence. There were, indeed, fom- instances of interference by the benchers with the bar — four instances in which men had been struck out of the barristers' roll upon then- recommendation. In the two first, the cases of School and Brody, the profession had been disgi'aced by the commission of the crime, he be- lieved, of perjury. The indignant Irish bar rejoiced at the expulsion of such men, and cared little by whom they were kicked out of the hall. The other two instances were those of Messrs. Ai'thm- O'Connor and Thomas Addis Emmet. Those gentlemen had, in the year 1799, been, upon a similar recommendation, disbarred. I3ut it should be recollected that they first stood convicted, upon theii- own confession, of being traitors — that they had forfeited their lives to the laws, and had actually, upon an agreement vrith government, submitted LIFE A^^) TIMES OF o'COXNELL. 195 to pei'petual banishment. When he spoke of the crimes of those gentlemen, he could not but express the regret he felt at mentioning the name of one them, with whom he had once the pleasure to be personally acquainted. ^Yhatever might have been the political crimes of Mr. Emmet, those who knew him were bound to say, that a more worthy gentleman in private life never lived. But having abjured the realm, the benchers exercised the superfluous loyalty of getting them ex- cluded fi'om the list of Irish biUTisters. No person was inter- ested to inquire into the authority by which so immaterial a result had been produced. Such are the precedents — the only precedents — that can be alleged. What do they prove "? Just nothing. But perhaps I am mistaken ; perhaps this jui'is- diction does exist. You may not be willing, and you ought not to submit to act upon my researches ; yet I hope I have said enough to convince you that an inquiiy ought to be insti- tuted, and that every man at the L-ish bar may know upon what looting the preservation of his professional property and personal honom* stands. This inquiry should be con- ducted in the most respectful manner ; no oflence will be taken where none is intended. We would be bound to ma'ke the in- quiry at eveiy risk; but, in truth, the benchers themselves are ready to concede much to the general feeling of the bar. To this feeling they have already sacrificed the resolution to pubHsh their censure of Mr. Moore. If the bar declares its comiction that no such inquisitorial authority does in point of law, and that none such in point of fact, ought to exist, we shall never again hear- of the cause of our present alarm." " Mr. O'Connell moved, * That a committee, consisting of three of the gentlemen of the bar, be appointed to ascertain the autliority of the benchers either to censure or disbar a barrister.' " The remonstrance of the Irish bai* was treated with con- tempt by the English benchers, who, in neglecting even to ac- knowledge its receipt, added insult to injustice. By this time (1812), O'Connell, by his own sheer, unaided merits, had reached a lofty reputation at the bar. After four- teen yeai's of assiduous toil, his claims had become known. He had put his sickle into the field, and the golden harvest was bending in and fallinsr under his efibrts. But still, though cheered by success, he could indulge in no diminution of toil. To estimate his merits we must glance at the diificulties of liis profession — the Alps he had to climb. The bodily and mental laboui- of a successful banister's life would be suf- 193 LIFE AND TnrES OF O'CONNELL. ficient, if known beforehand, to appal the stoutest. His life is passed in a tumult of perpetual contention, and he must make up his sensibilities to give and receive the hardest knocks. He has no choice of cases. He must throw himself heart and soul into the most unpromising. He must fight pitched battles with obstreperous witnesses. He must make speeches without materials. He must keep battering for hours at a jury that he sees to be impregnable. He is before the public, and at the mercy of public opinion ; and if every nerve be not strained to the utmost to achieve what is impos- sible, the public, vdth its usual good nature, will attribute the failm'e to want of zeal or capacity in the advocate — to any- thing rather than the weakness of the cause. He must appear to be sanguine even after defeat, and be prepared to tell a knavish client, beaten out of the courts of law, that he has "a clear case for relief in equity." He must cram his memory with the arbitrary principles of a complex and incongi^uous code, and be equally prepared to apply and misapply them. This is a necessity in the profession. He must not only sur- pass his competitors in the art of reasoning right from right principles — the logic of common Hfe ; he is obliged, when his client's necessities require it, to reason right from wrong principles, and wi'ong from right ones. He must learn to glory in a perplexing sophistry as in the discovery of an im- mortal truth. He must make up his mind and face to de- monstrate in open court, with all imaginable gi-avity, that nonsense is replete with meaning, and that the clearest mean- ing is manifestly nonsense by construction. This is what is meant by legal habits of thinking ; and to acquire these he must absolutely forswear all other studies and speculations that may interfere with their perfection. There must be no dallying with literature — no hankering after comprehensive theories of the good of the human species. He must keep to his digests and his indexes. He must see nothing in mankind but a great collection of plaintiffs and defendants, and con- sider no revolution in their affairs as comparable in interest with the last term reports of points of practice decided in Banco regincB. He must view the most interesting incidents and situations in human life with a reference to their legal effect and operation. If a funeral passes by, instead of al- lowing his imagination to follow the mom-ners to the gi-ave, he must consider how far the executor may not have made him- self liable for waste of assets by some supernumerary plumes and hat-bands " beyond the state and cii'cumstances of the LIFE A2;D times OF 6'CONNELL, 197 deceased ;" or, if his eye shoidd light on a requisition for a public meeting to petition against a grievance, he should as a lawyer regard the giievance as immaterial, but bethink him- self whether the wording of the requisition be strictly warrant- able under the provisions of the Convention Act. Such is the life of a lawyer — and such a life O'Connell had now led for fom'teen years. "We may here," says Fagan, "be permitted to give an anecdote to exemplify O'Connell's rapidity of conception, his knowledge of law, and the tact with which he made even his broad humour tell for his client's advantage. In a case at a Cork assizes, in which he was counsel on the same side with many of the most eminent men who attended circuit, he wasf absent in one court while some points of great importance were undergoing discussion in the other. His fellow-barristers were able lawyers ; but they were severely pressed by the opposing counsel, and an unfavourable issue was threatened. The judge was about to declare a verdict — counsel were in the last extremity, and their only hope rested on O'Connell. He had been sent for once or twice ; but he was then address- ing a jm-y in behalf of a prisoner on trial for his life. He was disengaged in the nick of time — his learned and able fiiends were in the last stage of despair, when he entered the record court in an apparently indifferent and inattentive manner, gaily jesting as he passed in with indi^dduals he knew. He could not, we believe, have previously known much, if anything, of the ease he was hastily called to argue ; but he caught, as he proceeded to his seat, the upshot of what counsel was dii^dng at. Drawing the cord of his ample bag, he extracted quickly from its depths the particular brief he wanted; and glancing through a sheet or two in the most superficial manner, he rose to address the com't. In a few brief sentences he cleared away the difficulties by which his fellow- counsel were embarrassed. In a few more he tmned the tables on the opposite party; and in one of the shortest speeches he, or any other lawyer, was ever kno'^Ti to make in a case of similar importfwice, he banished all idea of a nonsuit from the judge's mind, and succeeded in winning him over decisively in favour of his client. He disposed summarily of the main difficulty. He extricated his learned brethren from the slough ; and informing the court that the remainder of the ai'gument would be carried on by one or either of the junior barristers, he consigned his brief to its former place, closed his bag, and returned to the couiii whence he was summoned. 198 LIFE AND TIMES OF o'CONNELL. The case was won. *He found,' said our informant, *the able men with whom he acted sprawling like a parcel of children; and it was he only who set them on their legs.' The incident is but another illustration of his commanding powers as a lawyer, and the facility and readiness with which he could apply the acquisitions of a practical, sagacious, and extraordinary intellect." "It is stated in an article in the Edinhurgh Review that Lord Brougham was intended to lead a libel case ; but imme- diately before the trial, it was discovered that the other counsel, a mere special pleader, was his senior, and the mistake proved irremediable. It was thus, I may remark, that the superses- sion of Sir Arthur Wellesley after the battle of Vemiera, in 1808, by two senior but far less competent officers, arrested the course and blighted the fruits of that victory. On an oc- currence, however, in this city, not dissimilar to that of Lord Brougham, Mr. O'Connell, with instant happiness of thought, applied the remedy which had evaded the learned peer's saga- city. Engaged in a case the success of which mainly depended on his examination of the most material witness — a depart- ment of the profession in which he had no superior — he found to his surprise on entering the court that his destined station and consequent task were occupied by another ; the client hav- ing, without communication and wholly unconscious of the etiquette of the bar or its consequences in this instance to him- self, privately retained an old friend of more moral than intel- lectual merit, but Mr. O'Connell's senior. The law agent, Mr. Denharn Franklin of Cork, my informant of all the particulars, natm-ally dissatisfied with this act of his employer, and fearful of the issue in such hands, was about to abandon the cause, when Mr. O'Connell, chiding him for his despondency, directed him to ascertain the name of a gaping clown whom his search- ing eye had espied in the crowd. The individual was imme- diately called up, and to his astonishment presented as fii'st evidence by the instructed attorney for examination to the in- trusive counsel, but was dismissed as totally incapable of a pertinent answer. Thus, however, the desired end was at- tained ; and the leader — his part being acccomplished, stood no longer in the way of Mr. O'Connell, who succeeded him, and failed not to achieve the expected result." Among those whom O'Connell at this period loved to casti- gate in his public oi^ations, Jack Giffard holds a conspicuous i^lace. Gifiard was originally an apothecary. "When I was at the DubHn University," says Sir Jonah Barrington, " the LIFE AND TIMES OP O'COXNELL. 199 students were wild and lawless. Any offence to one was consi- dered an offence to all ; and as tlie 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 precisely what they chose (out- side the College gates). If they conceived offence against any- body, the collegians made no scruple of bringing the oiTender into the court, and pumping him well ; and then- unanimity and numbers were so great that it was quite impossible any stu- dent could be selected for punishment. 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 outrageous — and the fii'st check we ever received was from Giffard, who was a director of the watch, and kept a shop close to the Parliament House. He having in some way annoyed the collegians, they determined to pump Giffard ; but they reckoned without then' host. He entrenched himself in his house, which we assailed, brealdng all his windows. He gave repeated warnings to no purpose ; and a new assault being commenced, Gifiard fii'ed a pistol and a collegian was wounded in the wrist — whereupon the besiegers immediately retired from the fortress. It was a lucky shot for Giffard, who immediately obtained some parochial office for his firmness, made himself of importance on every trifling subject, and harangued constantly in the vestry. Of his subse- quent progress I know nothing till about the year 1700, when I found Giffard an attache to the Castle in divers capacities. He was afterwards placed in the revenue department, became a common-council man, and at length high sheriff; at which time he acquired the title, which forsook him not, of * the Dog in Office.' He had a gi'eat deal of vulgar talent, a daring impe- tuosity, and he was wholly indifferent to opinion. From first to last he fought his way through the world, and finally worked himself up to be the most sturdy partizan I ever recollect. His detestation of the Pope and his adoration of King WiUiam he carried to an excess quite ridiculous — in fact, on both subjects he seemed occasionally delirious." At the electioii of Sir Jonah Barrington, Giffard, on some pretext or other, objected to Grattan's vote. On this occasion Grattan delivered the following memorable words: ''Mr. Sheriff, when I obseiwe the quarter from which the objection comes, I am not surprised at its being made. It proceeds from the hired traduccr of his country — the excommunicated of his 200 LIFE AND TIMES OF o'CONNELL. fellow citizens —the regal rebel — the unpmiished 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 Tile re- fuse to execute." Giflard, thunderstruck, lost his usual assu- rance, and replied in a single sentence : "I would spit on him in a desert!" — which vapid and unmeaning exclamation was his sole retort. At this time Lord Liverpool was premier. Lord Liverpool's ministiy was compared by Cm-ran to the council which BraLantio addi'esses in the di-ama of " Othello," where the "potent, grave, and reverend signors " — solemn and stupid — consist of call-boys, scene-shifters, and candle- snuflers, whose robes are old cmiains, and whose frowsy wigs are taken from the stores of the play-house. Such as the mi- nistry were, they consisted of that portion of the aristocracy to whom the reins were confided by the inside passengers. The aristocracy have been defined, we may remark, as consisting of those in the monarchy who consume most and produce least — who monopolise the most brilliant distinctions, but deserve the most profound obscurity — who fill every office that can be imagined, and perform no duties that can be conceived — highly honom-able men, in short, who form a disgraceful league to live idle on the labour of other people. The man who, in 1812, formed what Shakspeare terms "the big toe" of this coaHtion was Lord Liverpool. Hfe was equivalent to Lord Palmerston in the present day — he was fii'st lord of the treasury. It is a received maxim in pubhc life that no English minister can be an honest man, and Lord Liverpool was an Enghsh minister. He used words not to convey but to con- ceal his thoughts, and always in speaking considered what he should keep back rather than what he should put forth. He repressed v.ith caution the vehemence of passion — those un- controlled emotions which give bii'th to eloquence. His ora- tory consisted of hollow declamation and vague phraseology, worn-out topics vamped up anew and empty common-places on morality — in a word, false eloquence, intended to cajole and deceive, not to enlighten and instruct. A proclamation in 1812 was issued by this man dissolving pai-Hament. The whole country was immediately convulsed with the clamours and tm-bulence of contested elections. A struggle of the most stormy character raged over the two islands. The battle of the factions was fought at the hustings with a vehe- mence and fury that distracted and abnost uptmned society. LIFE AND TniES OF O'CONXELL. 201 For a while nothing could be seen, thought, or heard of, but uproar and violence, drunkenness and perjuiy, scurrility on the platform, and scuffling and pugilism amid the spectators. The fiercest tumults distracted the country, the wildest riots mad- dened the towns. The elections converted the populations into hostile armies, animated by fm'ious passions, and ready to rend one another to pieces. The purest vu-tue, the basest treachery, the most profound conniption, and the noblest disinterested- ness were visible in the tempest which shook the moral atmos- phere, and threw society into a paroxysm of indescribable dis- tm'bauce. Alluding to these elections, in November, 1812, O'Connell said, at a meeting at Kilmainham: ** I am afraid, gentlemen, that I shall take up too much of yom* time if I advert to topics that crowd upon my mind (loud cries of "no, no !" "go on!"). The first I feel inclined to allude to is an address lately pub- hshed by a friend of religious liberty, and printed by Mr. Cobbett, a distinguished colleague of his in the exposure of public corruption — I mean Lord Cochrane, one of the mem- bers for the city of Westminster. This distinguished member observes that he was once opposed to the Catholics because he disapproves of the slavish doctrines which prevail in the Romish Church. See the consistency of our calumniators. — At one time they say we are agitating democrats, crying aloud for an unwan-antable measm-e of Uberty ; the very next mo- ment they turn round and say we have a marvellous propensity to slavery. The ti-uth is, that their accusations are false in both instances. We are partial to a legitimate monarchy in a hereditary line, but we still say that life is not worth en- joying without the blessings of freedom. Lord Cochrane ad- mits that he has abandoned his antipathy to CathoHcs, and says he is ready to gi-ant them the immunities he enjoys him- self if they accept the privileges of Englishmen, and renounce the jui'isdiction of the Pope. I say we ai'e most anxious to obtain the privileges of EngHshmen. Let Cochrane recollect what the first Iiishman that ever was bom said at Xewry. (Here O'Connell was interrupted by prolonged acclamations.) I am not surprised that you should feel the most ecstatic emo- tions of the heai-t when I allude to John Philpot Curran. It recalls to us everything that is deai' and interesting iu our histoiy. I know the name of Cm-ran has conducted you back to that awful period in om* annals when we were deprived of our independence, and metamoi*phosed into the colony of a people not worthy of being our masters. The Irish Cicero ob- 202 LIFE AI^D TBIES OF o'CONNELL. served at Newi'y that Englishmen love the prmlege of being governed by Englishmen. I would tell my Lord Cochrane that Irishmen as highly value the pri^dlege of being governed by Irishmen. The second proviso of Lord Cochrane is of a polemical character. He wishes to destroy the jurisdiction of the Pope. I would ask him in the name of Christian charity, has he not our oaths ? We are degraded, excluded, and in- sulted, because, for any favour earthly power can bestow, we would not violate our oaths — and still we are insulted by being told that our oaths are not a sufficient guarantee of our alle- giance. It is most amazing how men will persevere to play with our feelings. In the course of my professional pursuits I have been one hundred times compelled to swear that I did not think it lawful to commit murder (a laugh). You laugh, gentlemen ; but what I tell you is not a gi'eater absurdity than Lord Cochrane's jDroposed pledge. Why, if any man in the community had the audacity to tell me directly that I did not value an oath, either he or I "should not long survive such a flagrant insult. But we are told we have predilections. I do not deny the charge. As for my part, I do not value the man who has not his predilections and resentments ; but at the same time, Lord Cochrane may as well fear our predilections for the Grand Lama as for the Pope of Rome. But tm'ning fi'om events at the other side of the water, let us examine what is going on in this country. The elections are in some places still going forward. I am told the Catholics have con- siderably lost by the appeal to the people. In one place they have lost to an incalculable amount indeed. Christopher Hely Hutchinson has lost his election in Cork (cries of "shame!") I regret this misfortune the more because it was not the efforts of a profligate minister that rejected him — not the anger that has followed his family since one of them, with Roman-like resolution, drew the veil fi*om that infamous luxury and nau- seous enjoj^ment in which the wine-bibber's voice is heard de- cisively pronouncing that you shall be kept in bondage. He failed, not because the attendants of the Castle upheld his op- ponents — not because our worthy viceroy expended in oppo- sition to him the profits of the London coal tax, or the £30,000 he is allowed as a slave. Christopher Hely Hutchin- son is out of parliament because of the apathy of the Catho- lics. The negligence — the wicked and pernicious negligence of the CathoHcs did against him what neither the frowns nor smiles of the administration — the favour nor the anger of the court could do. Let every man who hears me bear it strongly LIFE AND TIMES OF O CONNELL. 203 in mind and communicate to his friends, tliat the neglect of the GathoHcs of Cork in registering their votes was the sole cause of our losing the services of an admu-able Irishman." The wine-bibber to whom O'Connell alludes in the above extract was the Prince of Wales — whose adulterous attachment to Lady Hertford rendered him, it was thought, hostile to popular rights. " It is strange," writes the author of ' Memoirs of the Times of George IV.' " that every person, even the most profligate, abuses Lady Hertford ; yet all the aristocracy in England re- ceive her and visit her. Lord said the other night, that she had as much murdered one of her admirers as if she had pulled the trigger which had shot him. He then proceeded to say, that at the time she left that admirer she had one daugh- ter by him, whom she loved much, but upon whom her husband doated also. So, in order not to part with this girl, she feigned its sickness and death, and buried a dead kid, instead of the child, at Leghorn, and sent the girl away to England. She sent her under the care of a man whom I can never look upon -svithout dislike. Think of any one's kidnapping another's child — and to please a woman ! The wretched father wept his lost child for some time, and when it was convenient to Lady Hertford to rid herself of that child, she had the kid disinterred in proof of the deception which she had practised, and informed the father that she sent him back his daughter alive and well. The shock proved too gi'eat for the unhappy man, who went mad and shot himself ; and the villany has hitherto remained unpunished — the perpetrator of this tragedy can walk about in peace. People generally end this tragic tale by saying : ' Poor ; he was a gi'eat fool !' It will be better at the day of judgment to be that great fool, than the woman who is dignified with the false epithet of clever." Wyse, in his " History of the CathoHc Association," com- pares the wealthy Catholic of penal times to the wealthy Jew of the present day. He had the same habits of frugality, the same passion for hoarding, the same devouring appetite for gain. Unfortunately he had, in addition to this, the cowardly subserviency, the fawning manner, and sneaking gait of the Jew. He was ready to prostrate himself before a Protestant, as the oriental Jew prostrates himself before a Turk. The overwhelming calamities which crushed the Irish in 1798 — the horrors of the baffled rebelHon, the cruel tortures and wanton barbarities — ^had terrified and demoralized the wealthier Ca- tholics — cowed, scared, and broken their spirit. As O'Connell 204 LIFE AND TDIES OF O'CONNELL. often said, the Catholic might be distinguished as he crept along the street by his downcast air and abject appearance, his depressed and servile movements. The outward manifesta- tions of inward degi'adation had partially, under the influence of more auspicious circumstances, disappeared. The CathoHc had learned to lift up his head ; but though his body was that of a h'eeman, his mind was that of a slave. He still cowered and trembled internally before his old oppressors, and in the ordi- nary affairs of life exhibited towards them a gi'ovelling subser- viency and cowardly complaisance. During the elections of 1812, this abject baseness was seen in glaring colours. Some of the wealthiest Catholics were guilty of the foul delinquency of deserting on the hustings candidates who had made sacrifices for their liberty, and gi'ouped themselves under the standard of Orange ascendancy. This profligacy excited throughout the whole country general abhoiTence. The most unpardonable recreancy of the kind was exhibited at Ne^vi'y, where Cun-an was abandoned, and where his opponent. General Xeedham, received the active support of several leading CathoHcs. In alluding to this, Cur- ran said : " The motion was seconded — I blush to think of it ; I burn at being obliged to state it — by a merchant of 'isevrrj, himself a Catholic, the unifoiTQ witness, as he, together with his Catholic brethren, had been the uniform victim of the prin- ciples of a gentleman whom he thought proper to support. Never shall I forget the figm'e which the unhappy man made, hesitating, stammering, making a poor endeavour to look angry, as if anger could cast any veil over conscious guilt, or conscious shame, or conscious fear ; and to what extent must he have felt all those sensations if he looked forward — not merely to the sentiments of indignation and contempt which he w^as exciting in the minds of those that he betrayed, but the internal horror that he must feel when thrust forward to the bar of his own conscience, and the di^eadful sentence of ex- piatoiy torture which that indignant conscience must pronounce upon him?" Even at the present day, years after the concession of Eman- cipation, there is an absence of self- appreciation and a want of self-assertion among the wealthier classes of CathoHcs. In all questions involving Catholic interests they manifest a sneak- ing subserviency — a tendency to take what are termed mode- rate, but what are really cowardly views of the question in hand. They parade a false candour which never deceives, and make paltry compromises which ai'e secretly despised — in the LIFE AND TIMES OF o'CONNELL. 205 hopeless view of obtaining corresponding concessions, which are never made. The high-handed habits of ascendancy often cling to the Protestant; he fancies himself a master — he is still intolerant in bearing and tyi^annical in tendency. The crawling habits of subjugation, on the other hand, disgrace, the wealthy Catholic ; he fancies himself a slave — he is too oftenu cringing, sycophantic, and mean-spirited. So true is the old observation, that it is harder to convert the bondsman into a freeman, than to break the stubborn resistance of the freeman and reduce him to bondage. On the 7th November, 1812, a meeting of the CathoHc Board took place in Capel-street, where the conduct of those recreant Catholics who had, " under* any pretence, supported at the elections a no -popery partisan" was subjected to reproof or held up to scorn — denounced and stigmatised in terms of indignant censure. Jack Lawless introduced a motion, de- claring that such recreant Catholics had utterly forfeited the confidence of the Board. " The Catholic Board," said Mr. J. Lawless, "were appointed by an aggregate meeting of the Catholics of Ii'eland, for the pm-pose of preparing and present- ing a petition to the parliament of the empire ; and also for the purpose of taking into consideration any point connected with that petition. This is the amount of the commission with which you were entrusted. Then comes the question — how is this trust to be executed ? Is it to be executed by men who, when they leave this Board, go on the hustings and give their support to the tried and trading enemies of the cause. . . If we have the power of wreathing the brow of my learned and eloquent friend, have we not the power of rending the laurel from brows that do not deserve it ? Heaven knows," he con- tinued *' we have difficulties enough to contend with besides the infidelity or traitorism of ourselves. Desertion from our ranks, gentlemen, is, in this moment of our necessity, so little to be expected, so disgraceful to the cause, such a crying sin against the first duties of citizenship, that it should be punished with all the indignant severity we are capable of using." O'Connell, when asked in private conversation as to Law- less's merits as an orator, said: *'He began admirably. His first four or five sentences were exceedingly good ; the language excellent, the sentiments impressive, the delivery admirable. But then he began to fail, and continued to the end in a strain of incoherence. Sometimes, indeed, he got ofl" right well — that is, if he were interrupted near the outset. He would then reite- rate his opening points with excellent efiect, and with the spfrit 206 LIFE AND TIMES OF O CONNELL. which the stimukis of a little brushing opposition infased into his manner. But Jack was an unpleasant sort of fellow to transact business with. One day in committee Jack told us he meant to bring pubhcly forward, at that day's meeting, a cer- tain topic which I was of opinion it would be infinitely wiser and more prudent to leave in the shade. I expressed that opi- nion veiy strongly, and was backed by many persons. Lawless seemed reluctant to acquiesce ; but at last he said : * O'Con- nell, you are right — I see you are quite right. I shall say nothing on that subject at the meeting.' I thanked him for his acquiescence ; and in order to make assurance doubly sure, I said to him, as we were passing through the little boarded entry into the great room : ' Now, Jack, you'll be sure to hold your tongue about that affau* ?' 'Do you mean to doubt my word '?' retorted Jack, rather angrily. ' Have I not promised to be silent? I consider my honour as pledged.' I was quite satisfied, and we went in. I moved somebody into the chair, and sat down to look over a letter, when up started Jack, and dashed full .into the topic upon which he had just promised silence. Of course I had to draw the sword on him in reply." Feeling certain that Lawless's motion would light the fires of discord, O'Connell was deshous of smothering its discus- sion. With this view he introduced a motion on which they were certain to be unanimous — a motion for a public dinner. He deeply felt the inutihty, not to say the mischief, of pub- licly castigating men who had lapsed from political duty, and had sacrificed to a sense of private obligation theii' public obligations as patriots and Catholics. It was not only impos- sible to recal the past, but it was the seducer that should be assailed. But Jack Lawless would not be withheld. The stormy pleasures of a public and prolonged debate had un- speakable charms for this wayward and unmanageable gentle- man. He never seemed so happy — so thoroughly at home as when the verbal battle was hurtling and raging around him. Such was his passionate love of this excitement that after receiving an appalling fiagellation from O'Connell, he would skip joyously into the committee-room, rubbing his hands in the highest glee and satisfaction, exclaiming: "Well, hadn't we a delightful debate ?" O'Connell said that " the dinner, if its own intrinsic worth were considered, was certainly of little value, and to none of less value or consideration than to himself; but it would, in his opinion, have the good efi"ect of bringing Irishmen to- LIFE AND TIMES OF O'COXNELL. 207 getlier in av/ful and dangerous times — keeping alive in their minds the great constitutional objects for which they were labouring, and uniting them more firmly and lastingly in the bonds of mutual attachment and in the legitimate pursuits in which they were engaged. It could not escape recollection that a fragment of a grand jury had, within a few days, been goaded into the politic act of representing the Catholic Board as a nuisance. This base insinuation demanded something from the Catholics of Ireland." After some additional re- marks on the new efforts of their foes to crush the old hopes of their friends, O'Connell moved, "That a grand dinner be given, on some convenient day in December, to the friends of religious freedom," which was carried unanimously. Mr. Lawless then rose, and proceeded with his motion. He animadverted severely on the conduct of Mr. Caulfield of Newry, who though a Catholic, and still more, a delegate, had refused to poll for Curran, and voted for his adversary. The defence of Mr. Caulfield was very peculiar — it was made by a Mr. Byrne, who alleged that Caulfield had been plunged into a dungeon in 1798. An order for the prisoner's release had come down to Mr. Corry, who, unmindful of the suffer- ings of Mr. Caulfield, pining in his dungeon and draining away the di'eary hom-s in dismal confinement, kept '' the re- lease" ten days in his pocket. Justly indignant at the negli- gence or malice of Mr. Corry, when he learned that this man was to stand for the borough, Mr. Caulfield pledged himself to vote for General Needham, the opponent of Mr. Corry. Such was the defence which was set up for Mr. Caulfield; and O'Connell seemed to approve of it when he said: "He was sure a meeting of Irishmen would not confound the base and despicable betrayer of his native land, and the man who had acted from an impulse most honourable to any man. It was true there had been room for censure, but the Board should hear before it decided, and give those persons an opportunity of defending themselves before it inflicted punishment. Let it not be said, that you decided without trying — that a tri- bunal of Irishmen would even risk the charge of visiting an Irishman with injustice. It would be cowardly to rob a man of his character in the dark. Those men may have cases to make — they should be permitted to make them." O'Connell concluded by moving an adjournment, which was seconded, discussed, and finally carried by an overwhelming majority. The question which J. LaYfless originated distracted not only the Board, but nearly all the Cathohcs of the kingdom. 208 LITE AXD TIMES OF O'CONNELL. Nothing could be more certain than the culpabiHty of some Catholics ; but nothing could be more doubtful than the policy of punishing them. If the Board ousted the guilty, and sent them back to the counties, the character of a representative assembly would be assumed by the Board by the act of dis- carding them. The question was talked of everywhere, and converted by the muses of the streets into such songs as the following : " Since now, my boys, we all are met, Staunch enemies to freedom ! We surely shall return our pet — Our own dear favourite, Needham ! Then push about the glasses ! Push about the glasses ! Corruption, boys, we will support, While Caulfield's whiskey passes I * Apostacy has swelled our ranks, We now may laugh at freedom ! 'Gainst truth and hberty we'll vote, Supported by our Needham ! Then push about the glasses ! Push about the -glasses ! Corruption, boys, we shall support, While Caulfield's wliiskey passes 0!" On the 28th November, 1812, the discussion was renewed. In the course of this discussion, O'Connell denounced the motion. " It would sacrifice men," he said, " who had ever evinced the utmost anxiety and zeal for the promotion of the Catholic cause. It w^ould go to divide the bod}-, and interrupt that harmony which was acknowledged upon all hands to be of the most vital importance. It would carry the broad incon- sistency on the face of it, of censuring persons who, at the same time, were held to have satisfied public opinion. One gentleman had said, ' let those whom the cap fits w^ear it.' It seldom happened that the individual whom the cloak of infamy best suited would himself put it on. It was a pitch-cap of torture that they were about to force dovvTi upon the heads of unofiending men, and not a well-earned infliction upon real and shameful delinquency. The Catholic Board, he would beg of gentlemen to recollect, had now arrived at such a height of influence and importance, that their frown was sufficient to cast dismay around any m^n they attacked ; but it behoved them to prove that the moderation and justice with which they exercised that power was commensm-ate Vvdth ts magnitude. Whatever might be the decision of that day, he would take LIFE AND TIMES OF O'CONNELL. 209 upon himself to assert, tlaat no Catholic in the land would ven- ture to vote again in a manner that could subject him to their displeasure. He thought individual votes of censure highly reprehensible, and certain to be attended with the very worst consequences. It would be nothing less than transforming the Catholic Boai'd into a terrible inquisition. If such a trans- formation were to take place, there was an end at once to the security of the best men. No one, however conscious of his innocence, could feel safe should a faction who could muster twenty or twenty-five votes, have it in their power to act in this manner ; he knew not how soon they might come forward and say, Daniel 0' Council does not deserve the confidence of the Catholic people." O'Connell's efforts to shut out the censure implied in Law- less's motion proved nugatory, and the meeting finally re- solved, ''That such persons as had deseiied the tried friends of the Catholics at the last general election, were no longer de- serving of their confidence." The noble efforts of O'Connell to establish harmony con- trast veiy favourably with the mischievous efforts of the aristo- cracy to introduce dissension. It would be a gross error to suppose that Emancipation would have been conceded if the Veto had been consented to by the Catholics. No ; the true object of the English aristocracy in mooting the Veto was to teai' the Catholics asunder, and distract their members with raging discord and conflicting hostility. They hoped that from its discussion frantic division would start up wildly in the maddened councils of the Catholics, and diive out decent pru- dence, effective action, and harmonious wisdom. This is hinted at by Burke. " You will have a schism," says Bm'ke ; ''and I am greatly mistaken if this is not intended and sys- tematically pursued." The Catholic aristocracy within the Board fed and fostered the serpent, which was slipped into the open bosom of the body by the Protestant aristocracy outside the Board. True wisdom, true patriotism, would have con- sisted in shutting out completely the consideration of the Veto — they should not have even looked at it ; but this exclu- sion could not be efiected owing to the treachery of the Catholic aristocracy, who let it in. What, however, was treason on the part of the aristocracy was blindness on the part of the people ; nay, it was almost suicide. Availing themselves of the slavish deference for hereditary titles which disgraces the uneducated Irish, the Catholic aristocracy v\"ere enabled to act treache- rously while escaping the punishment of traitors. But they 210 LIFE AND TIMES OF o'CONNELL. aroused a heaving surge of turbulent mutiny which inspired them with apprehension — which might bm-st up, lash over, and swallow them down. Their oily, polished, and specious treachery vras answered by the bridled rage of the people, who were at once awed by their dignity, yet maddened by their proceedings. The people thus were rendered furious and des- potic — would listen to no compromise, no half measures; an abjm'ation, total and absolute, of the obnoxious principle was alone accepted. In cowardl}^ terror the alarmed aristocracy crept one by one slowly and ingloriously away from the bois- terous tiu'moil they themselves had called up. They shrank from the violence of the tempest, to find in the calm of their private position that they commanded no consideration. They were sneered at by one party, laughed at by another, and despised by both. The respect they received as lords consoled them in some degree for the contempt they received as rascals. YvTiether they merited the respect might be questioned, but even themselves could not doubt that they richly merited con- tempt. The aristocracy who adhered to the Catholic Board were intent on its destruction; they sapped it by jealousies and distrusts, and shook it by clamorous conflicts. But in breaking it up they were training O'Connell. From the clash- ing tumult of conflicting passions, which raged and battled in the Board, O'Connell learned the art of conducting and controlling public assemblies. He brought up the priceless pearl of experience from the black and boiling turmoil of ex- asperating passions that maddened in the Board^ — he learned to steer the barque of popular agitation through the storms that roared above and the surges that yawned below. He learned, while'contemplating the dissensions of the Board which he could not prevent, \to profit by their squabbles and garner wisdom from their folly, and brace himself for the prodigious efibrts which he made ia after times. The Catholic Board of 1812 was the school of the Emancipator of 1829. With the view of averting the evil consequences — the distrust and bad feelings which were certain to spring up, Hke noxious weeds, from the vote of censure J. Lawless had so pragmatically introduced. Dr. Dromgoole brought in a motion, stating that the resolutions of the preceding summer did not sanction the \dolation of promises entered into at any period previously to the adoption of such resolutions. O'Connell said that he sanctioned the motion of Dr. Drom- goole because "he respected that gentleman, and wished for an opportunity to express himself ou a subject which distressed LIFE AXD T13IES OF O'COXXELL. 211 and distracted the popular mind. One would imagine that they were at a loss for enemies, so sedulous did they appear to arouse them amongst themselves. As if Ii'eland was not suf- ficiently distracted, division and dissension were introduced as pastime into the Catholic Board. It might be the prompt- ings of his vanity that made him think that he might have arrested the progress of the feud that tore them asunder — but it was certainly the dictate of his duty to attempt to arrest it. Though nominally abstract, the resolution in question was really personal — was hurled at a single individual : he meant Mr. Lalor. He (O'Connell) had the honoui* to be his kinsman. He knew his worth alike in the relations of private life and the struggles of the Catholic cause. When danger menaced ♦he Board he was the first to throw himself into its presence ; his determination increased with their difficulties — his spirit strengthened as dangers thickened round them. He always adopted at that Board the most manly, spirited, and honour- able course ; he never talked of compromise. If Mr. Lalor had forfeited the confidence of the Catholics of Tipperary, they might have expressed their disapprobation, and from that moment, like Mr. Jennings of Newry, he would have ceased to be a member of the Board. When the Board passed a censm-e on Mr. Lalor, it passed out of the limits of its autho- rity into the power of the attorney-general. "There is," continued O'Connell, *'an unhappy spirit broke out among us. It is the inevitable consequence of turning this Board into a species of mock tribunal, and destroying individuals with an axe which you term ' abstract censure.' In plain truth, how is it possible that we should judge with discretion or discrimination of the motives that may impel private indi- viduals ? Their neighboui'S in their respective counties may be able to judge of them, and they certainly are able to punish them by exclusion from this Board. But how are you to summon witnesses, or to examine them to form any estimate of facts ? I \dl\ tell you what the witnesses are — public re- port, a liar to a proverb ; and anonymous calumny, an assas- sin upon record. I myself, for example, have no less than five anonj^mous letters lying upon my table, vs^hich charge my estimable friend with every atrocity. I know of my own knowledge that it is simply impossible that some of them should be true — I am convinced they are all false. Yet, how many members of this Board — how many excellent and truly honest men may be influenced in their decision of Mr. Lalor's case by communications which may have reached 212 LIFE AND TIMES OF O'CONNELL. them in a similar way ? In truth, it would be most dange- rous for us to usurp the power of judging of facts which we want the means to investigate. But mv great objection must be repeated — the discussion of questions of this natm'e, affect- ing particular individuals, must necessarily tend to excite per- sonal animosity amongst us, and to produce ii-ritation and rancour. I appeal to you whether it has not akeady had this effect. Indeed, I need not make the appeal ; there is not a man in the Board who has not seen with regret a sphit of violence and of hatred, the very genius of personal malignity, settling here, where all was peace, and unanimity, and cordi- ality. And have we not enemies enough, and to spai'e ? Have we not Lord Manners and His Grace of Eichmond in front, whilst the attorney-general and the Dublin grand jur^ hang on om* rear ? Have we not on our flank the bigoted Liverpool, and that Castlereagh, long exercised in every dark stratagem of ruin, who would for emolument barter a seat in heaven, if he had any interest in that country. At this moment, bigotiy is awakened from the slumber into which Protestant liberality in Ireland had cast her. Bigotry, at the command of power — bigotry, Im-ed by the beloved voice of interest, has arisen in every part of the land. The fii'st in station and in rank set the example of obedience to the com- mand which they themselves issued. Every little village bigot in the land is animated with the hope of discounting his despicable malignity into the pay and plunder of some ofiice. Mark the active rancom* of their hostility. Hutchinson — the patriot Hutchinson — is opposed in Cork for being your cham- pion. The opposition of the Castle stoops to all the meanness of personal animosity ; it disgorges its domestics and menials, from the highest to the lowest, against him. The refined amusements of our refined government are suspended ; even casino stood still, and the tea-table was unattended. Every- body was absent — everj^body was sent to oppose Hutchinson because he was the friend of the Catholics. The clergy, who sometimes have a most admirable instinct in discovering what is for theu' interest here as well as hereafter, are many of them active against us ; they are easily marshalled under the aus- pices of a right reverend prelate of the Established Chm'ch — the son of Popish parents — the brother of a Popish priest, who has published a pompous pamphlet against us of great promise and pretensions, but of little performance, save what it effects by the very difficult and novel process of repeating calumnies a thousand times refuted, and abjured — and contra- LIFE AND TBIES OF O'CONNELL. 213 dieted upon oath by eveiy Catholic in Ireland. I should be content if we were at leisure to investigate the worthy prelate's motives, or that we even had an opportunity of printing, in the same shape with his pamphlet, another hterary morceau of the learned and pious divine. It was, I beHeve, his first attempt — a farce called the 'Generous Imposter!' — oh, the generous imposter ! The theatrical dictionary informs us that ^is farce was damned. A fiiend of mine who happened to have seen it assures us that there was a warmth of expression in it — he would not for the world call it an obscenity — which in some quarters would almost atone for its dulness ; but it was too dull even for the vicious taste of a London audience to presei-ve it for its seasoning. But perhaps this pamphlet is as great a farce in the Fitzwilham administration as the silent exertions, if not the pamphlets of the divine, were at the other side. Oh, the generous imposter ! Look to the counties — see how you are calumniated. I have already more than once had occasion to remark, the principle of this administration is falsehood; this principle betrays itself in all its acts. It therefore unblushingly circulates its calumnies against us with the most thorough conviction of their total want of truth. Where it cannot procure the dii-ect assertion of an untruth, it is content with an insinuation containing the same meaning. Thus, for example, a fraction of the county of Dublin grand jury could never have dared to charge the Catholics of Ireland plainly and directly with high treason, but they have had the meanness to insinuate it covertly and in bad English. We should thank them little for the prudence which taught them to avoid the direct assertion, when we meet the depravity that allowed them to make this oblique and unmanly attack on our characters. Where is the individual amongst them that would venture to make the foul and false insinuation of disloyalty to any gentleman of this Board ? And if there were any individual so rash as to use the insinuation, I know the chastisement he would meet with and receive. But as a body we are calum- niated with safety, because we are idly busied in dissension and division amongst ourselves. Take another example — one of di- rect falsehood — what Shakspeare calls 'the lie direct,' and not, as in the case of the grand jmy, ' the lie by equivocation.' An advertisement has appeared in the DubKn papers stating that a meeting of the Protestant freemen, freeholders, and inhabi- tants of Dublin had taken place. Now this means, and was intended to mean, a public meetmg at which every such Pro- testant might have attended. But was there any such meeting ? 214 LIFE AND TIJIES OP O'CONNELL. There certainly was not. Everybody knows there v/as not. It is a falsehood — false as God is true ; a falsehood signed with the classic name of Abraham Bradley Iving, Lord Mayor, but not the less unfounded. The noble, gi-and Lord Mayor just certifies an untruth. He might, and probably had a parlour or dining-room meeting, but it was no more what he say^ — a meeting of the Protestants of Dublin — than it was a meeting of the Jews of Frankfort. This untruth, however, is of advantage to our enemies. Why ? Because we have left it uncontradicted — because we have been so busy in quarrel- ling with one another about Mr. Lawless's abstract censures, that we have not had leisure to mark with our public contempt the scandalous and impudent falsehoods with which we are assailed. But let us return to our own affairs. Let us return to the consideration of the state of the Catholics' rights. Let us make peace amongst ourselves and ccii'tj on the war of words only with om- enemies. All our vigilance, all our zeal, all our activity, are necessarj' for our protection. We cannot afford to squander or exhaust any part of them in a quarrel amongst om-selves. You have passed your vote of censure — be content with it ; allow us merely to qualify it by excluding the possibility of any person being deemed to come within it who ought not to do so. Those are persons whose faith was pledged previous to your resolutions of last spring and summer. You admit that such persons are not the object of your cen- sure. All we require is, that you should declai'e the fact to be so. If your sword afterwards be wielded by private malignity out of this Board, the declaration we require will serve for a shield, co-extensive with your censure, to those who are entitled to wear that protection. I can assm'e you, that my esteemed friend (Mr. Lalor) desires no other, nor would any man be his friend who sought an3i;hing further. All he desires is, for the honom- of the Board itself, that it should not be said that you censured him for obsenang the promise in which he had pledged the honour of an Irish gentleman. B}^ this means you ^^-ill vindicate the Board from a calumny not less actively circulated for being unfounded, and you will restore that har- mony and good temper amongst us, which are so necessaiy for our preservation at this perilous juncture. I do, therefore, conjui'e gentlemen, in the name of that afflicted country, which has so many ardent and affectionate votaries in this room, to waive all matters of form, and let us now, at once, adopt a resolution of admitted truth and necessary conciliation. Let ns thinly that poor Ireland, goaded and distressed, wants all LIFE AND TD.IES OF o'CONXELL. 215 our attention. Let us sacrifice every angi'y feeling — turn from the past with the temper of forgiving kindness, and to the future with all the firmness which will result alone from una- nimity in om- own body. Continue divided, and our cause is lost for ever." Owing to the strange variety of characters with whom he came in contact and the vast extent of his experience, O'Con- nell's private conversation was profoundly interesting. " Some ladies of quality," said O'Connell, '' have a strange propensity for theft. There were the Honourable Misses A . In Bath, the shopkeepers regularly traded on their thievish dispo- sition. Articles of value were left designedly on the counters ; the bait of course took, and the honourable thieves were pui'- sued by shopboys, who would say : ' You have taken such or such articles, ladies — but you have forgotten to pay for them.' An exorbitant price was then always demanded, which the ladies were glad to pay in order to escape the worse alternative of public exposure." A place named Belan was the abode of the Earls of Aldbo- rough, the females of whose family were notorious thieves. Near the entrance stood a finger-post decorated with a painted hand, on which Hussey Burgh composed an epigram often recited by O'Connell, to the effect that were it possible to give it life, the hand in question must be ver}* useful to one who, like the Earl of Aldborough, was not too scrupulous : " Great Jupiter ! could I command A vital power, to warm that hand — Give it tenacity and feeling ; Then fix, thus ^ivified, the fist Upon my sympathetic wrist, Oh ! what a hand 'twould be for stealing !'' At an aggregate meeting held in Fishamble-street on the 15th December, 1812, O'Connell lashed the Earl of Aldbo- rough — the father of the female thieves above alluded to — with cutting sarcasms. His lordship had taken a conspicuous part at certain Protestant meetings, in passing resolutions condem- natory of the Catholics. O'Connell denied that the persons who appeared at those meetings were really Protestants. " If one instance might be given — and one as insignificant as need be — there was John Earl of Aldborough (''hear" and laugh- ter). His lordship was very active in defence of the Chm'ch, and he was by no means to be blamed ; on the contrary, he de- served the greatest commendations for having come forward so boldly and offered himself as a martyr for the good of the 216 LIFE AND TIMES OF O'CONNELL. Church. Such men honoured the cause they supported (laugh- ter), and the cause in its turn honoured them just as much." The ardent support of reHgious orthodoxy by a notorious thief might be profitable to the knave, but was unquestionably disgraceful to the religion. The severe irony of O'Connell was thoroughly rehshed at the time when the vile nature of Lord Aldborough's character was thoroughly appreciated. In the course of the speech which he made on this occasion O'Connell told an amusing anecdote. He said that one of Lord Aldbo- rough's tenants had been promised, in return for a vote, the patronage of his lordship. " What can I do for you ?" asked Lord Aldborough. "It's what I have a boy in the soldiers, your honour," replied the tenant. " He ran away, and 'hsted last Christmas was a twelvemonth, and he won't leave it for all I can do or say, and it's what I'm thinking of getting him made a sergeant of, yom' honour." On applying for this post. Lord Aldborough was informed that it was utterly impossible to gTant his request, inasmuch as it required a previous service of six years to qualify a candidate for a sergeantcy. ''Does it require six years service to qualify him for a lieutenancy ?" de- manded Lord Aldborough. " Certainly not." " Well, can't you make him a lieutenant, then?" rejoined his lordship. "Whereupon," said O'Connell, "the fellow was made a lieu- tenant for no better reason than just because he was not fit to be a sergeant!" The preceding anecdote gives some elucidation to a curious article on the British army which Cobbett wrote in 1812, and which O'Connell read with great pleasure : " Baron Linsingen is stated to be the second in command in five counties. One would suppose, seeing this, that generals were extremely scarce amongst us, and that we were glad to catch at this German baron, to afibrd us his skill in taking care of our five coun- ties. Yet we should fall into a gi-eat error here ; for though this country abounds in many things — though it does greatly abound in tin, copper, and coals, it certainly abounds more in generals. We have, according to the army list published by authority, 2 field-marshals, 82 generals, 178 lieutenant- generals, 300 major-generals — making together, 662 general officers, besides the brigadier-generals, which are probably equal in number to all the rest put together. However, leaving the brigadiers out, here we have 562 generals. More, I'll engage, than Bonaparte has. He talk of his army, in- deed! What is his army — what is his pitiful army to one which has 562 permanent general officers ? Supposing our LIFE AND TIMES OF O'CONXELL. 217 army to consist of 300,000 fighting men (including the mi- litia) ; this gives us a general officer to every 533 men — a per- manent general officer to every half of a battalion. What do you think of that, little Corsican ? And yet the French have the impudence and the folly to say that we are not a military people — that we are unable to meet them in the field. Empty fellows ! Where will they look in their army for 562 general officers ? But if we are thus strong in military rank — if we have a body of generals making in point of numbers half a battalion — if we are so rich in militaiy skill as to be able to send forth a general to every 200 or 300 men, with almost ■ every escort and picquet — if such be our state, we surely do not stand in need of foreign generals to command our counties here at home, in the very heart of England. Surely, out of the 562 generals whom we have of our own, one might have been found worthy of being employed in the place of Baron Linsingen. And as to officers of inferior rank — as to those that are set over regiments, and battalions, and companies, we have little short of 20,000 of them. We have a commis- sioned officer, I believe, to eveiy seven effective private men. In short, we are rich beyond all comparison in commissioned officers. The French talk of their army, indeed ! Why, we have an army — and a good, stout aimy too — of commissioned officers. I have counted all the names in the army-list, and I make them 25,000 — 25,000 gentlemen in arms ! Bonaparte, think of that! But then, is not this abundance of officers — is not this wealth in military commanders a pretty good argu- ment against the employing of foreigners to command our regiments, battalions, and companies ? I hold that we have more commissioned officers than Bonaparte has. And yet, must we send to Gennany for officers to command our men ?" When rising in the House of Commons to support the Catholic petition, Grattan said, on the 25th February, 1813 : "I have to lament — and it would be miserable affectation not to acknowledge it — that the petitions against the claims of the Cathohcs are veiy numerously and veiy respectably signed." On this point O'Connell differed widely with Grattan. He said " that a Protestant petition had been sent from Dublin to parlia- ment, to which 2,800 signatures were attached — signatures for the greater part forgeries. Amongst the few that were genuine, he blushed to say, three were members of the Irish bar. It would astonish the Irish people to learn that a profession so remarkable for political liberality should produce three bigots. He regretted the discovery from his soul. The Protestant 10 218 LIFE AND TIJIES OF O'CONNELL. clergy who had signed the petition were few in number. Ten attornies had signed it, several placemen, several policemen, together with a rabble-rout of custom-house officers, hired con- stables, judges, registrars, and proctors of the prerogative court. A few wretched watchmen of orthodox opinions had scrawled their names to it. In its prodigious liberality the Corporation had permitted Papists to act as ' bulkies.' There- fore the Orange petition had not been signed by all the watchmen. But to make amends the tag-rag and bob-tail con- nected with the Corporation — all its hh-eling dependents — had signed the petition. The genuine signatures were 800 ; the forged names were 2,000. Such names appeared amongst them as human beings never bore. The forgers had invented such unheard of names as John Hidpath, James Ridpath, and Johnny Bones ; the Soui's and the Soars ; the Feddlies and the Fiddlies ; the M'Coobens and the Muldongs ; the Huzies and the Hozies ; the Hoffins and the Phantoms ; the Leups and the Zealthams ; the Sparlings and the Sporlings ; the Dandys and Gilbaslis ; the Fibgetts and the Feakenses ; the Chimnicks and the Rimnicks ; the Eiotters and the Rowings ; the Bawns and the Breakleys ; the Rottons and the Russinghams ; the Hockleys and the Werrilas ; the Mogratts and the Giritrows ; the Selhews and the Calyells ; the Pithams and the Paddams ; the Ladds, Palks, and Navasoi-as — all figured and flourished in this monstrous farrago of nondescript denominations ; such a mad medley of barbai'ous cognomens never were conjured up by the delusions of magic. They had eighteen Taylors all in a row, and five -and- twenty Ai^mstrongs. In short, the worthy managers of intolerance had conjm-ed up 2,000 figments of the brain, and arrayed these fantastic phantoms in opposition to the substantial claims and representations of the CathoHcs. It was incumbent on the Catholics to detect the imposition which had been practised on the legislatm-e ; in gratitude to the libe- ral Protestants of Ireland they should rescue the Protestant name fi.*om that imputation of bigotry which the enemies of Ireland would cast upon it. If we are mistaken, our enemies can easily confute us ; they have only to produce the indivi- dual. Mr. Riotter may head their party. I should be glad to see the gentleman. If he does not live in the city, this Riotter, I presume, is to be found in the Liberties. After him our enemies can show ofi" Iyh\ We-^alla hand in hand with Mr. Navasora; and Johnny Bones, Esq., may appear with Fibgetts, gent. — and even Mr. I^Jiomng can be summoned to come foi-ward in company vfith Mr. Dandy." (Cheers and laughter.) PART II. In the preceding part of this work we have followed O'Connell through many and varied scenes — his guileless childhood, his studious youth, his arduous and laborious manhood ; we have seen him fighting the battle of life, with indomitable courage and herculean exertion, for bread and reputation. In the great rivalry of talent where he had intellectual giants to con- tend with, we have seen him seeming a position at the bar from which it was impossible to push him back; we have fol- lowed him into the halls of Catholic council, and listened to his manly voice and bold oratory with admiring attention. With one hand he battled for bread — with the other he smote down the oppressors of his country. At once an advocate and a tribune, a law}'er and a patriot, he fed the lisping babes who clustered round his knees with one hand, while with the other he put forward the rights and claims of the land which had the honour of giving this great man birth. All this we have seen ; but hitherto he has been only in the shallows of his great and stormy voyage ; he is spreading his sails for a wider flight and a more tempestuous venture, and the storms darkening round his course shall put his very life in danger. We have seen the efforts made to strike him politically dumb by sup- pressing the committee ; we have seen the stratagems of the aristocracy to oust him from the Board. But not content to suppress the societies in which he spoke, and to silence him in the societies which he created, we shall see his enemies plotting his destruction by a more mm-derous instrumentality. We shall now see him entering upon a career which is per- fectly unmatched in the history of the world for the troubles that dishearten and the successes which encom'age, for the la hours which exhaust and the homage which repays, for the dangers which threaten and the docility which obeys, for the power which is enjoyed and the authority confronted, for the anger brought do^vn and the affection called up, for alternate storm and sunshine, disasters and triumphs, reverses and vic- tories. There is nothing in the wide range of human biogra- phy similar to the future topics of our contemplation. An aggregate meeting was held in the theatre, Fishamble- street, in June, 1813. The theatre on that day presented a busy spectacle. From an early hour that morning, avenues 219 220 LIFE AND TBIES OF o'COXNELL. leasing to the theatre — Skinner's-row, Cook-street, the quays, had been crowded with gossipers. From the rafters to the or- chestra, the interior of the theatre was aUve and swarming with spectators ; while the stage, reserved for the speakers, was decently laid out with tables, chairs, and forms. From the thronging swarms, close-wedged together and suffocating in the steaming gallery, a voice rises — " Three groans for the left- side of Ballybough Bridge !" which is understood in an instant, and passes through the heaving and agitated multitude Hke an electric flash, and the whole house bellows with the hoarse jubilation of approval — the roar of laughter, which hails and rewards the witticism. This jest is an ingenious mode of in- sulting the lord lieutenant. His title is Richmond, and at the left side of Ballybough Bridge exists a village likewise named Richmond — and this is a covert way of insulting his lordship. It elicits that harsh expression of inveterate hate — the grating and guttural "groan," intermingled with hisses, hootings, cat- calls, whistling, clapping, and hearty applause of the unknown* jester. "A groan for Jack Giffard !" and the whole theatre re- sounds and shakes with gi'oans and execrations. *' A groan for Paddy Duigenan!" is followed by a similar storm of hooting and hissing. The whole house for a few moments seems to go mad with malicious joy. But stop ! Silence ! Here are the leaders of the Catholics ! Here they come forward from the side- scenes! Here are the four lawyers whom Watty Cox loves to pelt with his ribaldiy. "Three cheers for Daniel O'Con- nell!" and once more the, little theatre echoes, rocks, and re- echoes with applause. Look at that fine, military-looking man, who is so warmly greeted by O'Connell. Chi shin? "Who is he?" His breast is covered with ribbons and stars and all the insignia of foreign chivalry. That is an Irish gentle- man — as the babble of the crowd informs us — who has recently come over from Germany to follow to the grave the ashes of his brother, Wogan Browne, who has just died. He is first aide-de-camp to the king of Saxony. His shining sword and brilHant talents have cut for their exiled owner a difiicult and perilous way to that distinction and those honours, which the grudging intolerance of a churlish aristocracy withholds from Irishmen in thek own land. The proud bearing of this miH- tary exile — his eye of fire and lofty demeanour — render more remarkable the downcast look and humble bearing of a woollen manufacturer fr'om the Liberties, ^ho happens to, stand near him. Last year he was considered rich — now he is a bank- rupt. Look at him! He "broke" in Janura-y. These two LIFE AND TIMES OF O'CONNELL. '221 men typify the valour which succeeds abroad — the industry which breaks down at home. One thousand hands, whom the manufacturer had employed, were suddenly plunged into in- voluntary idleness — pining, shivering, and starving in their garrets in that inclement season — in the midst of that rigorous winter. Unfortunately, he is only one of nine clothiers in the same quarter who, yielding to the overwhelming competition of British rivalry, have within the half-year preceding this meeting like^vise " broke." The crash spread consternation through the city, in whose streets the disemployed "hands" crawled like ghastly skeletons, begging the sustenance which they were wont to earn. The total number deprived of bread is so prodigious that one turns with horror from the heart- rending computation. All Dublin now swarms with gaunt beg- gars from the Earl of Meath's Liberties, who may in all pro- bability di'op dead from want of food in the monumental streets of Dublin. At a little distance from the manufacturer from the Liberties you may descry a military gentleman from Sicily. He is an Irishman, brown and bronzed by foreign service. He has thrown up.his commission in disgust, because he was com- pelled in common with two thousand fellow- Catholics, bearing arms at Palermo, to attend the semce of the Established Chm-ch against his will. Meantime the stage is filling with the leading members of the Catholic Boai'd. Among these the head of Scully, bend- ing over a table, inditing a resolution, catches your eye, from its singular resemblance to that of Napoleon I. But when he raises his face — coarse, stout, bluff, and characterised by com- mon sense, the resemblance vanishes. When he rises to ' speak, his enunciation, measui'ed yet unpolished ; his action, irregular but often emphatic, seem worthy of but little remark. Yet this man deserves attention — he deserves respect. Look at him again. He has stripped the veil from the fr'ightful or- ganization equally destitute of folly and pity, the penal laws — cold-blooded, intellectual, and passionless — which crushed and ground the Irish Catholics with a calculated cruelty sm-passing that of the ten persecutions. He is the author of a book, well known at that time, that should be known at all times, *' Scully's Statement of the Penal Laws." Beside Scully you might see the tall, expanded, and muscular frame of Daniel O'Connell, ample and comely ; the features at once soft and manly, the florid glow of health and a sanguine tempera- ment being diffused over a countenance national in outline and beaming with national emotion ; the esoression open and 222 LIFE AND TIMES OF o'CONNELL. confiding — at once inviting confidence and destitute of every trace of malignity or wile. That impressive bearing, which years of authority and the long exercise of power stamped upon the grand marshals of Napoleon I. was perceptible in this political chieftain. O'Connell had a certain aii' of com- mand — a martial dignity, and an expression about the mouth which told you it would be dangerous to disobey him ; at the same time his bright and soft blue eyes were the most kindly and honest-looking that can be conceived. There seemed to exist within O'Connell's breast an inexhaustible fountain of buoyant mu'thfulness which difi'used its influence over the whole circle of his familiar associates. The humorous intonation of his voice, the arch expression of his eye, gave racy zest to many a trifle which in other hand^ would have been abundantly flat and pointless. Not far from O'Connell might be seen the red hair and twinkling blue eye of Peter Bodkin Hussey. You might hear him, indeed, lecturing Daniel O'Connell, who has asked him to dinner, on his extravagant afiection for his childi-en. "Dan," says Hussey, "you should not bring in your • childi-en after dinner; it is a heavy tax on the admiration of the company." "Never mind, Peter," replies O'Connell, in his mellow, deep, peculiar tones ; "I admu-e them so much myself that I don't require any one to help me." There, too, you might see the mild countenance of Lord Gormanstown ; the giant frame, sallow face, and long club queue of Lord Ffrench ; and the broad fea- tures and immense head of Dr. Dromgoole. This Dr. Drom- goole was termed " the Duigenan of the Catholic party." He was a Catholic layman who had got, or given himself a theo- logical education. He loved the schoolmen. Thomas Aquinas was in his opinion the most attractive of all authors — the most profound, the most ingenious, the most delightful. The councils, the fathers, the dusty Hbraries of ancient and mo- dem controversy were his classics. Valiant, micompromising, and headstrong, he bore with a sulky composure on his seven- fold shield of theology all the Hghter shafts of contemporary ridicule ; and went on, like a rhinoceros through staves and stones, to the accomplishment of his solemn purpose. La his large, bushy eyebrows, bent solemnly on the earth, and his ponderous lips, scarcely ever opened but for a dogma or an anathema — in his sallow featm-es, spread over a capacious head, the signs of the times seemed visibly imprinted; and fresh hopes, at every time he struck the gi'ound with his heavy cane, appeai'ed to be conjm-ed up by the modem Thauma- LIFE AIST) TIMES OF o'CONNELL. ' 223 turgus for the glory and regeneration of Catholic Ireland. He was an odd but an excellent character. Every fool could see his eccentricities ; the learned and discerning alone could justly estimate his many admirable attributes — his ardent zeal — his deep erudition — his unquestionable integrity — the goodness of his heart and the vigour of his intellect. It is lamentable that so sturdy and sincere a champion of the Ca- tholic cause should not be better remembered. Lord Fingal has arrived — he enters the theatre amid wel- coming shouts ; but though called by acclamation, declines to take the chair. In his manners he is a perfect gentleman — in his character he is the incarnation of deception. Every one ad- mires his mild and placid countenance. No one suspects that he has this morning received private instructions from Robert Peel, secretary of Ireland. Yet, in laying his hand on his hollow heart, as he bows his thanks to the applauding populace, he presses the pocket which contains those instructions. He is heard in respectful silence, interrupted by applause. " The Catholic cause is completely interwoven," he says, *' with that of the empire at large, and the success of the one is the triumph of the other, and the failure of the one is the downfall of the other." When his lordship sits down, up rises Mr. Burke of Glynsk. He says that the tone of the Catholics has been the subject of censure; ** but if the slave, agonizing under his chains and stripes, utter a gi'oan, is it not inhuman to visit on his fellow-bondsmen, who are mute, the exclamation which is wrung from his misery ?" Burke proceeds, after some addi- tional remarks to submit the resolutions to the chairman. The discussion w^hich took place at this meeting will only be intelligible when the reader understands that early in 1813 Hemy Grattan, in the imperial parliament, introduced a bill which kindled a flame of rage and indignation through the length and breadth of Ireland. That bill consisted of four parts. It began by conceding the right to sit in parliament ; it, secondly, communicated the privilege of voting at elections for members of parliament ; thirdly, it gave to the Catholics corporate rights ; and, fourthly, it also opened to them civil and military offices. This bill professed at once to give Emancipa- tion to Catholics and secm-ities to Protestants. The securi- ties w^ere as follows : as the office of lord chancellor comprises a good deal of ecclesiastical patronage, the bill withheld from Roman Catholics that office, as well as the lord lieutenancy, but the principal security was a new oath, by which the Ca- tholic abjured the alleged regicidal and deposing power of the 224 LIFE AND TIMES OF o'COXNELL. Pope, the temporal authority and iDfallihility of his Holiness, and the principle that no faith was to be kept with here- tics. By this oath the Catholic deposed that he would support the Protestant succession and the existing state of Protestant property; that he would discover all plots and treasons which came within his knowledge ; that he would not make use of any power he obtained in the state either to its injury or the overthrow of the Protestant Church ; and that in the nomina- tion of any Catholic bishop or apostolic vicar, no man should be • chosen of whose loyalty and tranquil disposition he was not convinced ; and the clergy were also to swear, that in the election of persons to be recommended to the apostolic func- tions, they would never choose any person whose loyalty and conduct were not known to them. The ** securities" above recited were a series of brutal in- sults, which could only be suggested by ferocious intolerance and submitted to by slavish despair. Accordingly, a fire was kindled by these propositions which raged through the island like a conflagration in a forest. The bill introduced by Grattan was an apple of discord thrown into the Catholic camp. The Catholics were rent into conflicting factions by its ''securities." All the aristocracy approved of it heartily — and Grattan said very truly that his bill was satisfactory to Catholics. As the capture of our Redeemer was doubtless satisfactory to Judas, the bill in question was satisfactory to the lulleens, Trim- lestons, and Bellows. The whole metropolis — indeed the entire island was wrangling about this bill. It was talked of at cor- ners, discussed by the fireside, canvassed at chapel-doors, and alluded to in the pulpit. Everywhere it was the topic of dis- cussion. But what swelled exasperation to fury was the Can- ning clauses. Canning had suggested clauses additional to those already specified. He proposed that no Roman Catholic bishop should in future be appointed without a certificate of loyalty from five English or Irish peers appointed by the crown. All bulls or briefs received from Rome were to be submitted to the examination of commissioners consisting of the same peers, two Roman Catholic bishops, the lord chancellor, and one of the secretaries of state, with a proviso that they should be bound not to betray the secrets of the Catholic Church. These clauses met the approbation of Grattan, who thought they were liberal and ought to be received. They produced a pro- digious sensation in Ireland. The truth was, that Canning in these clauses was shaping the way for the realization of a project of Pitt's. " With respect to the Catholics of Ireland," LIFE AND TBIES OF o'CONNELL. 225 said Pitt, **an additional security, and one of which the effect will continually increase, might be provided by gradually at- taching the Popish clergy to the government, and for this pur- pose making them dependent for a pai-t of their provision on the state, and by also subjecting them to superintendence and control." With reference to the Canning clauses, it was argued that though the five noblemen, appointed as necessary guarantees of episcopal candidates, might in the first instance be unexceptionable persons, yet who could say that those who succeeded them would not be as hostile to Catholicity as the king who appointed them ? Who would guarantee the integrity of the futm-e guarantees ? The Catholic clei-gy, meantime, would ascend the scafibld and submit to the axe rather than submit to the provisions of this bill. They viewed it with hor ror. It was denounced by Dr. Troy as worse than the Veto. It would render the Irish Church the abject victim of the sordid, insatiable, and implacable tyi'anny of the British peerage. ' * Our prelates," said O'Connell, "would no longer be the respectable characters in which we now revere ever}i,hing that is vii'tuous and venerable — they would at least have more temptations to become otherwise ; and if ever they should degenerate into the tools of the minister — then should I consider the doom of Ire- land as sealed for ever." This bill was canvassed in the Catholic Board, and censured with severity as containing theological blunders, and as exhi- biting legal ignorance. The Board denounced the exclusion of Catholics fi'om the office of lord lieutenant and chancellor as based on a principle of intolerance which Irish Catholics refused to recognize. It was severely reprehended likewise as leaving farmers open to pillage and rapacity under the title of vestry-cess and church-rates — impositions grievously felt by the cottiers, peasantry, and farmers of Ireland. It did not open the corporations nor the colleges to Catholics. It failed to admit them to the bench, and shut in the face of Catholic wealth and probity the offices of directors of the bank of Ireland, masters in chanceiy, &c. ; in its principles it was re- stricted, in its provisions it was inadequate, and in its expres- sions dubious, unsatisfactory, and vague. Finally, the Board determined, on 22nd May, 1813, to send delegates to London to consult with theii' advocates in parliament, and watch the progress of the bill. This bill, which had issued — at least in part — from the brain of Mr. Canning, though abhorred by the Catholic people, was much admired by their aristocracy. The people regarded it 226 LIFE AND TIMES OF O'CONNELL. as a specimen of brutal insolence — of tyrannical and arrogant assumption, such as had been rarely put forward under pre- tences equally mendacious. The Catholic lords considered it as liberal in its nature, and such as ought to be received. But the bishops of the Irish Church difiered vnth. the aristocracy, and denounced the bill. " Its clauses," they said, " were utterly incompatible with the discipline of the CathoHc Church and with the free exercise of their religion ; without incurring the guilt of schism, they could not accede to such regulations." Not content with this, the bishops issued an address to the Catholic laity condemnatory of the bill. In this address, which they confided to O'Connell, they said that if carried into effect, it would " invade the spiritual jmisdiction of the supreme Pastor. ... It had not, and never could have their con- currence." "For this determination the Catholic prelates de- serve," said O'Connell, "the eternal gratitude of the Irish Catholics. Nothing," he added, " but mischief and degradation could have resulted from the commission which was proposed in this bill. This hopeful commission — this charter of eman- cipation (laughter) was to be framed by his Grace the Duke of Richmond — and upon whom is it likely that his choice would fall ? Even before his selection commenced, you were certain of ha^dng as president of this commission that ludicrous enemy of om's who has got in jest the name he deserves in earnest — of Orange Peel. A raw youth, squeezed out of the workings of — I know not what factory in England ; who began his par- liamentary career by ^dndicating the gratuitous destruction of our brave soldiers in the murderous expedition to Walcheren, and was sent over here before he got rid of the foppery of per- tumed handkerchiefs and thin shoes — upon the gi'ound, I sup- pose, that his talent for vindication might be useful to the administration of Ireland. In short, he was a lad ready to vindicate anything." When this pernicious and revolting bill was thrown out, the enemies of the Catholic Church were filled with unfeigned regret. This poignant sentiment of disappointment Lord Trim- leston expressed relative to this bill, which, under the false pretext of emancipating them, would have heaped on the Ca- tholics a complex mass of ponderous chains. The words of Lord Trimleston deserve the close attention of the reader, be- cause they throw on the fraudulent and mischievous conspi- racy of which he was the dishonest agent a clear and startling light. He said : "On the day I had last the honom- of pre- siding over you, when my heart indulged the most cheering LIFE AXD TIMES OF O'CONXELL. 227 hopes, I would have smiled with pity had any prophetic voice announced the failure of the measures then in contemplation for the happiness of Ireland." If the rearler will bear in mind that the collective wisdom of the venerable prelacy, the keen sagacity of Daniel O'Connell, and the unsophisticated honesty of the sincere populace, had equally flouted and repudiated the mocking insolence of this "Rehef Bill," he will be able to ap- preciate the vnlj hypocrisy — the polished craft of Lord Trim- leston. " When I transmitted your last resolution to oui- tu- telary genius," he added — 'Uo the immortal patriot (Grattan) who fills eveiy Irish heart with gratitude, I flattered myself that I should have to congi-atulate you this day on the favour- able decision of the House of Commons on a bill of freedom rendered illustrious by the name of Grattan. Alas ! the bright prospect has vanished — the horizon is overcast with porten- tous clouds, and despair weighs me down. But hold ! Why should we sink under the blow when there is still so mucli cause to expect that futurity keeps for us a better fate in store. All is not lost, gentlemen. After many years of unre- mitted labour, Mr. Grattan — seconded by the talents of a Can- ning, the unrivalled eloquence of a Plunket — has succeeded in proving the principle that the emancipation of the Catholics is not incompatible with the safety of the constitution. A bill was prepared by a committee of om* friends, wherein my Lord Castlereagh co-operated in a manner which does credit to his judgment as well as to his great political abilities. Unfortu- nately for his lordship and for us, he had to contend with the prejudices and fears of the English ministry. ... I can- not believe, gentlemen, that your feelings are so blunted by long suflferings as not to operate strongly in your breasts ; but let me conjure you not to give way to their acuteness. Let us feel om' misfortune like men, but bear it also like men. Let us impress our mind with this important truth — that fii-mness and prudence in conduct and moderation in debate can alone insure futm-e success ; whilst a contrary mode of action must defeat the zealous endeavours of our many friends in parlia- ment to emancipate the Catholics of Ireland." The loathsome hypocrisy of this unscrupulous nobleman, who had the impudence to eulogize Lord Castlereagh — the crocodile tears which he affects to shed over the fi'agments oT this hateful, torn, and rejected bill, must have filled O'Connell vdth. unmixed though suppressed indignation. The answer of O'Connell was worthy of his reputation. It consisted in read- ing the bishops' pastoral address ''to the clergy and laitv of 228 LIFE AND TIMES OP O'CONNELL. the Roman Catholic Church in Ireland." In this address, which their lordships confided to O'Connell — and which was *' fraught," as O'Connell said, " with as much v/isdom as piety — remarkable for talent, moderation, and meekness" — their lord- ships stated, " That having seriously examined the copy of the bill lately brought into parliament, pm-porting to provide for the removal of the civil and military disqualifications under which his majesty's Roman Catholic subjects labour, we feel ourselves bound to declare that certain ecclesiastical clauses, or 'securities,' therein contained, are utterly incompatible with the discipline of the Roman Catholic Church and with the free exercise of our religion." This proved clearly that the bishops deserved the thanks and gratitude of the people. O'Connell was desirous, by a pubhc vote, to express that gratitude. The pertinacity with which the aristocratic party fought against this vote was very suggestive. Every nerve was strained by Sir Edward Bellew and his brother to deprive the bishops of this vote of thanks. He harangued for hom'S against it. He could not deny that the pastoral address was opposed to the bill, but he argued that the bishops were equally opposed to themselves, that their former views contradicted their late opi- nions, and that therefore the Catholics were warranted in turn- ing their back on the bishops ! Sir Edward Bellew was anxious to please Canning, or to please Castlereagh, or the aristocracy generally ; and therefore he openly rebelled against the Irish bishops, and sought to sweep the whole Board into the vortex of his revolt. Schism had no terrors for Sir Edward Bellew. He would rend Ireland from the Holy See, and make ship- wreck of its faith to win the approbation of that dark confede- racy against human freedom — the British peerage ! O'Con- nell's motion was to this efi'ect: ''That the respectful thanks of the Catholic Board be given to the Most Reverend and Right Reverend the Catholic Prelates, for their communication to this Board, and for their ever vigilant and zealous atten- tion to the interests of the Catholic Church in Ireland." When Major Bryan had seconded this motion, the red head and twinkling blue eye of Peter Bodkin Hussey popped up to amend it. He would cut ofi" from the resolution all the words that follow " communication" — he would strip the bishops of The merit of "vigilance" — and this for a reason that deserves attention. Canning's clauses were censured by the bishops, and Hussey's object was to defend the clauses from censm-e. In short, war with the hierarchy — covert war — was the design of this crafty speaker. But Hussey did not strip off the LIFE AND TIMES OP O'CONXELL. 229 mask and fling it away, like Sir Edward Bellew. He was only prepaiing for the open ruptui'e which it was hoped the titled dignity of the baronet would craftily effect. Hussey said the clauses condemned by the bishops had not been investigated by the laity, and before ratifying that condemnation, the Board should consider what it was then- lordships condemned. — In applauding the bishops' vigilance, O'Connell's resolution denounced the clauses ; and it was by no means certain to Hussey that they should be denounced. The next speaker was WiUiam Bellew, brother to the baro- net. This man, as he rose, had a Caius Mai'ius look. Of him we might say, as of the ancient patrician, " Seldom he smiled, or smiled in such a sort As if he mocked himself, and scorned his spirit That he should smile at all." His person was tall and lailk, his movements slow and solemn, his features austere and repulsive, his utterance sustained and measured, his attitude perpendicular and haughty, his look concentrated and piercing, his bearing gi-ave and meditative. The deliberation of his tones and the arrogance of his bearing produced a kind of awe in vulgar spectators. He resembled Don Quixote as he sailed thi'ough the Board, with his frozen and rugged exterior, spectral aspect, lofty demeanom*, and saturnine au-. It was said of him, that if in his morn- ing walk fi'om Great Charles- street to the Four Courts, he saw a man hanging from every lamp-post down Capel-street, he would merely ask in gi'ave and measured accents, unbroken by emotion of any kind, "whether they were hanged accord- ing to law ?" We must always understand that Mr. Bellew was as nice and touchy on the point of honour as a Spanish Don. " Touch my honour, touch my eye" was his motto. *' According to the bishops," said this haughty aristocrat, " the bill is incompatible with the discipline of the Catholic Church. Whj ? Because a bishop, after his consecration and appointment to a diocese, must be presented for a certifi- cate of loyalty. This arrangement would, they say, be in- compatible with the discipline of the CathoHc Church, as the government would not allow the dignitary to officiate until he had furnished himself with his certificate." This humiliation of the prelate, Counsellor Bellew had a remedy for. He would give the certificate to the dignitary before he was consecrated, " which would entirely remove the objection." The profound disregard which the Catholic aristocracy secretly entertained for the Catholic hierarchy is evinced by the willingness of the 230 LIFE AND TIMES OF O'CONNELL. Bellews to subject he prelates to the degradation of '* suing out a certificate of loyalty." The bishops, like the apostles, were men of humble origin ; the origin of the Bellews was baronial — which may account for that disregard. Be this as it may, Counsellor Bellew denied that the bishops were en- titled to the thanks of the Board, or the thanks of anyone. They did not, as he alleged, manifest a desire to forward the bill, to conciliate all parties, and remove all objections. They did not " state their objection candidly," nor point out the easy means by which it might be removed, though he himself had communicated to them that ready method. " They have anxiously — I might say, gladly availed themselves of the objec- tion, and studiously kept back from suggesting the easy means of removing it of which they cannot plead ignorance. Is it for this conduct we are to express approbation ? Have the lord lieutenants and Protestant visitors to Maynooth," he asked, " manifested an anxious disposition to obstruct the exertions of the Catholic trustees and visitors for the welfare of that institution, and to introduce Protestantism through the medium of profligate and anti- Catholic presidents ? No, my lord — the very reverse has been their conduct ; the Col- lege of Maynooth has existed now for a period of eighteen years, during which time there have been six successive presi- dents, all of whose names have successively been sent, on their nomination, to the lord lieutenant's secretary for the approba- tion of the lord lieutenant. In no one instance has any lord lieutenant interfered. My lord, let me ask, can any fair, un- prejudiced man discover in the conduct I have detailed, as ob- served by the lord Ueutenant and the Protestant visitors, any- thing to justify the dreadful alarms which our bishops tell the Catholic public are to be apprehended from clauses introducmg Protestant interference in some of the transactions that con- cern our spiritual superiors. And will not any fair, intelligent man discover, on the contrary, everything to produce a reason- able confidence that the arrangement in question will be honestly and honourably acted on ?" Not content with attacking the bishops. Counsellor Bellew -attacked O'Connell, whom he de- nounced as " leading the Catholics to consider ever}i;hing Protestant as odious, and everything English as oppressive. I cannot omit expressing my regret," added Mr. Bellew, *' at that spirit of dictation which has too often prevailed in our discussions, and which to me appears not becoming in persons making applications to the legislature. It does not appear to me poHtic or wise, while petitioning for political privileges to LIFE AND TIMES OF o'CONNELL. 2S1 hurt the prejudices of a legislature exclusively Protestant. I do not think any person degrades himself, or at all descends from a proper consciousness of the respect due to him, by let- ting a spirit of deference and respect appear manifest in all his dealings with the legislature." O'Connell answered very ably. " The speech that Counsellor Bellew has delivered is one of much talent, labom', and pre- paration." Counsellor Bellew — "I spoke extempore." "I have no skill in prophecy," said O'Connell, "if we do not see that very able speech in precisely the same words, verbum verbo, in the newspapers to-morrow morning. He began by demanding your attention, because he has rarely addressed you. It reminds me of the English officer's prayer when going into battle: ' Great Lord,' said he, 'during forty years I never troubled you with a single prayer ; I have therefore a right to be heard on the present occasion.' He begs you to confide in his zeal for your interests because he has hitherto confined that zeal to his own. Quite different are my humble claims to your notice. I humbly solicit it because I have sacrificed my interest to yours, and sought for Catholic Emancipation with an activity and energy proportioned to the great object of our pursuit. His discourse was divided into three principal heads. First, he alleges that the Catholics are attached to their religion with a bigoted zeal. I admit the zeal, but I utterly deny the bigotry. Well, h'a\dng charged the Catholics with a bigoted attachment to their Church, he stated that those feehngs, on our part, justified the apprehensions of the Protestants. The Catholics, said Mr. Bellew, are alarmed for their Chmxh ; why should not the Protestants be alarmed also for theirs ? The Catholic, said Mr. Bellew, desires safety for his religion ; why should not the Protestant desire security for his ? and he con- cludes that it is natural and justifiable in the Eldons and Liver- pools to insist upon vetoes and securities, boards of control and commissions of loyalty. And now see how futile his reasoning is. He says th^at our anxiety for the preservation of our Church vindicates those who attempt to protect their religion by the proposed securities — a mode of reasoning per- fectly applicable if we sought any control over the Protestant Church. But the fact does not bear him out ; for we do not seek, nor desire, nor would we accept of any kind of interference with the Protestant Church. We disclaim and disavow any kind of control over it. We ask not nor would we allow any Catholic authority over the appointment of their Protestant clergy. Nay, we are quite content to be excluded for ever 232 LITE AND TIMES OF O'CONNELL. from even advising his majesty with respect to the rights, pro- perties, or privileges of the Protestant Church. I declare most solemnly that I would feel equal, if not stronger repugnance to Catholic interference with the Protestant Church, than that I have expressed against Protestant interference with ours. If the Cathohc sought control over the religion of the Protestant, I would not only feel for the Protestant and speak for him, I would cheerfully sacrifice my life in the defence of the great principle for which I have ever contended — the principle of universal and complete religious liberty (loud and repeated cheers). It is absurd to say that because the Catholic is de- sirous to preserve the fi'eedom of his religion, the Protestant is justified in seeking to enslave it. But, said Mr. Bellew, the Protestants have a right to demand, because they stand in need of securities. I deny the right — I deny the need. There is no such right — no such necessity. What secmity had the English from our bishops when England was invaded — when the unfortunate but gallant Prince Charles advanced into the heart of England, guided by valour and accompanied by a handful of brave men, who under his command obtained more than one victory ? He was a man likely to excite and to gra- tify Irish enthusiasm — he was chivalrous and brave ; he was a man of honour and a gentleman — no violator of his word ; he spent not his time in making his soldiers ridiculous with horse-tails and white feathers ; he did not spend his morning in tasting curious drams, and his evenings in gallanting old women. What security had the Enghsh then ? What secu- rity had they against us when America nobly flung off the yoke that had become too heavy to be borne ? What security had they then ? I will tell you : it consisted in the conscientious submission to legitimate authority, however oppressive, which our bishops have always preached and our laity always prac- tised. The English do not dislike us as Catholics — they simply hate us as Irish. They exhaust their blood and treasure for the Papists of Spain ; they have long cherished a close alliance with the ignorant and bigoted Papists of Portugal; they emancipated the French Papists of Canada ; and a German Papist is allowed to rise to the first rank in his profession — the army. He can command not only Irish but English Pro- testants. There is no such horror of Popery in England as is supposed. They have a great dislike to Irish Papists ; but put the filthy whiskers and foreign visage of a German on the animal — and the Papist is entitled to high favour from the dis- criminating English. We fight their battles ; we beat their LIFE AND TIMES OF O'CONNELL. 233 enemies ; we pay tlieii* taxes — and we are degraded, oppressed, and insulted (loud applause) ; whilst the Spaniards, the Portu- guese, the French and German Papists ai'e coui*ted, cherished, and promoted. I revert now to the learned gentleman's accu- sations of the bishops. He has accused them of eiTor in doc- trine and indiscretion in practice. He tells us that he is counsel to the College of Maj-nooth, and in that capacity he seems to arrogate to himself much theological and legal know- ledge. I concede the law, but deny the divinity. I was in- deed at a loss to account for the strange want of talent — for the silence of Irish genius which has been remarked within the College. I now see it explained. The incubus of jealous and rival intolerance sits upon its walls ; and genius, taste, and talent fly from the sad dormitory where sleeps the spirit of dulness. It is true, the bigot may rule in Trinity College ; but still there is no conflicting principle of hostile jealousy in its rulers ; and therefore Irish genius is not smothered there as in Maynooth. The matter stands thus — at one side we have the Catholic prelates of Ireland, who assert there is schism in the proposed arrangement ; on the other side we have the very erudite counsel for the College of Maynooth, who asserts that there is no schism in that arrangement. As we have not leisure to examine the points doctrinally, we are reduced to the sad dilemma of choosing between the prelates and the lawyer (laughter and cheers). There may be a want of taste in the choice — but I confess I prefer the bishops. I believe with the reverend prelates that the ai-rangement would produce schism. But if it did not, it would produce worse — corrup- tion, profligacy, and subserviency to the Castle." We need scarcely say that O'Connell triumphantly succeeded in carry- ing his motion. The preceding discussion may not interest the general reader, but to Sir Edward Bellew and his brother it was pro- foundly interesting. It interested them because they were pub- licly scourged by O'Connell, and because they were secretly promised an ample reward by a scheming aristocracy. On that day fortnight the aristocracy privately bestowed on Counsellor Bellew a secret pension of £200 a-year. It was a good day's work. We learn fi'om this that a highly honourable member of an aristocratic family may be persuaded to rebel, in open day, against the mitred prelates of his Chm'ch for £200 a-year — paid quarterly. This is the market value of the arti- cle ; and if we bear it in mind, the circumstance may throw light on subsequent complications. Counsellor Bellew was in 234 LIFE AND TIMES OF o'CONNELL. receipt of this pension for six years before it became known. O'Connell finally discovered it. Six years after the preceding debate, a list of the private pensioners was wrung fi-om the government by the English reformers. O'Connell ran his eye along the columns, and discovered the name of Bellew with £200 a-year attached. This was not the only pension he enjoyed. The assistance which he rendered in carrying the Union was rewarded with the promise of the chaii'manship of a county. The place of assistant-barrister became vacant ; Lord Castle- reagh was reminded of his engagement — when, behold ! a peti- tion signed by the magistrates of the county to which Mr. Bellew was about to be nominated, was presented to the lord lieu- tenant, prapng that a Catholic should not be appointed to any judicial office, as they would not act with him. The govern- ment affected to be a good deal embarrassed by this notifica- tion, which they had themselves probably suggested. The fas- tidious conscience of Lord Redesdale shrank fi'om paying £400 a-year to a Roman Catholic — even though a traitor to his co- religionists. "What!" exclaimed Lord Castlereagh, towering in what seemed to be virtuous indignation. " Not reward Mr. Bellew ! You shock me, my lord ! The Union promises must at all hazards be kept." In order at once to fulfil the spirit of their nefarious con- tract, and not to give ofience to the Protestant magistrates, a pension very nearly equivalent to the salaiy of a chairman — £300 a year — was given to Mr. Bellew; and he was put in the enjo}Tnent of the fruits of the office without the labour of cul- tivation. That it was reprehensible to tax the people with an additional pension, in order to reward an unprincipled mis- creant who had deceived and betrayed the people, cannot, we think, be questioned. This, however, is one of the necessities of a government which is fundamentally fraudulent — which, professing to be representative or constitutional, is in reality a rapacious and unprincipled aristocracy. Wilham Bellew was a member of one of the most distinguished Catholic families in Ireland. There was fonnerly a peerage attached to the name, which was extinguished in an attainder. A baronetcy was re- tained. His father, Sir Patrick Bellew, was distinguished for that species of wasteful and disastrous hospitality by which many a fine estate was ingloriously dismembered. William Bellew was one of the fii'st Catholics called to the bar ; and as he represented the Catholic gentry, and was supposed to take a decided lead in their proceedings, his fii-st appearance in the Four Courts attracted much attention. His disgraceful trea- LIFE AXD TIMES OF o'CONNELL. 235 chery proves in the most unmistakeable manner the danger — not to say ruin, which must result to the popular cause when the people confide its management to any member of a titled family. The aristocracy are members of a confederacy, to the interests of which they will always sacrifice the interests of the people at large. Such men are invariably actuated by mean and dishonest motives. They either enjoy pensions, or expect them. Among other evidences of their nefariousness, the Catholic aristocracy, to a man, supported the Union. Counsellor Belle w came with signal advantages to the bar. He was closely connected with the oldest and most opulent Catholic families, and was employed as theu' domestic counsel. Their wills, then- purchases, and marriage articles, were drawn under his inspection. No man at the bar was more exact, careful, technical, and expert in conveyancing, than Mr. Bel- lew. He at one time monopolized the whole Catholic business. He was one of fom- Catholic barristers who received pensions in 1793. The Irish parliament, in 1793, passed an act for the re- lief of the Irish Catholics. The fost Catholics who availed themselves of this statute were Mr. Bellew, Mr. Lynch, Mr. M'Kenna, and Mr. Donnellan : they became barristers in virtue of that Relief Bill. Such was the alarm with which their legal ability filled an aristocracy which was profoundly corrupt, that every one of those gentlemen was provided for by government. Mr. Donnellan obtained a place in the revenue ; ]\Ir. M'Kenna wrote some very clever political tracts, and was silenced with a pension ; IMr. Lj-nch married a widow with a pension, which was doubled after his marriage ; and Mr. Bellew, the day he rose in the Catholic Board to inveigh against the Catholic prelates, was in the receipt of £600 a-year, paid to him quar- terly at the treasuiy. This damning fact once known nullified the eflect of his political oratory. No matter how well Mr. Bellew argued his point at a Catholic assembly — no matter how cogent his arguments in favom* of a more calm and mode- rate tone, the moment O'Connell raised his arm and exclaimed in that deep, clear, and melodious voice which once heard can never be forgotten, " I thank God I am not a pensioner," the syllogisms of Mr. Bellew vanished like smoke, and a storm of shouts, and screams, and gi'oans of hatred assailed the govern- ment retainer on eveiy side. Had he the eloquence of De- mosthenes, the clinking of the gold would be heard amid the thunder. The secret object of Llr. Bellew's speech, for which he re- 23G LIFE AND TIMES OF O'CONNELL. ceived £200 a-year and the execrations of every honest man, was to Presbyterianize the Irish Church — to introduce what Dr. Troy tnily termed "a kind of lay eldership unknown in our Church government" — a close, summary, absolute, and in- quisitorial commission or board of five lay lords. Into this commission no member of the hierarchy was to be admitted — an exclusion which was deeply resented as an insult to the venerable prelates of our Church. When the incm-able cor- ruption — the profound immorality of the aristocracy is taken calmly into consideration, the uneasiness and alarm which ran through the clergy and laity of Ireland cannot be wondered at. It should be borne in mind that this brutal insult was offered to the Church when the Sovereign Pontiff was a prisoner— a circumstance which deepens alike its meaning and its malice. Owing to this melancholy state of the Pontificate, the govern- ment in addressing the Catholic hierarchy adopted a tone of overbearing insolence which is inconceivable at present. Thus^ Canning with incomprehensible puppyism objected to the word <' protest," which the Lord Bishop of Dublin, Dr. Troy, made use of in communicating with the government, adding that " it was for the parliament to decide what terms should be conceded to the Catholics — it was not for the Catholics to dictate terms to the parliament." In his reply. Dr. Troy assured Mr. Can- ning *' that in using the word ijvotest he did not intend any dis- respect or dictation to parhament or to Mr. Canning ; and that if his brethren should deem it expedient to approach parlia- ment, they would do so respectfully and in the language of petition." The protest which Mr. Bellew delivered against '* dictation," received some light fi'om this circumstance. It seems to prove that Mr. Bellew not only received the money, he received the instructions of the aristocracy. Let us quote Dr. Troy's admirable reply to him : "I cannot decline on this occasion to remark on the learned gentleman's assimilating, in some degree, the members of a mixed inquisitorial commis- sion to the board of trustees of Maynooth College, who are seventeen in number — all Catholics, and of whom eleven are prelates. The college is not of divine institution, but estab- lished by regal and parliamentary authority, and is governed by human laws and regulations according -with the discipline of the Catholic Church. Catholic bishops, agreeably to the present long- established discipline, derive their mission from the supreme pastor and governor of the Church, the bishop oi Borne — and not from any lay authority whatsoever, which can- not, except by privilege from the Church, interfere in their LIFE AlfD TBIES OP O'CONNELL. 237 election or appointment. The visitors of Maynooth College are seven, including a Catholic peer and two prelates, and are prohibited by law from interfering with the doctrine or dis- cipline of the Catholic Church. The proposed absolute inqui- sitorial commission would introduce schism by separating bishops from the head pastor, and eventually undermine the Irish Catholic hierarchy. Such a prospect must surely fill the mind of every good Catholic with consternation and dismay." It was evidently the object of O'Connell to mould the Ca- tholic Board into a distinct government within the realm — to restore to his widowed country, defrauded of her dignity, the shadow, if not the substance of an independent legislature. This was ob\'iously the secret intention of O'Connell — to make the Catholic Board the depository of Catholic complaints and the avenger of Catholic wrongs — an Irish government, syste- matically organised not only to convey petitions to parliament, but to form alliances with parliamentary parties, and send out ambassadors to foreign states — endowed with the power to wield at will the headlong passions and the physical force of the Ca- tholic part of Ireland — to give plan and form to the whole mass of religious discontent, and turn the whole tide of popular prejudice against the prince or noble who opposed Emancipa- tion, or to raise him aloft to the admiration of the community if he furthered their fi-eedom — in short, to perfonn all the acts of an independent government, and stretch out its arms, if necessary, to foreign states, that they might espouse its cause, recognise its existence, and support it against its oppressors. The Catholics hinted in theii* newspapers that Wellington — then fighting in the Peninsula — had designs upon the crown of Spain, and to further his pui-pose was preparing to turn Catho- lic. The effect, if not the object of this rumour was to sow dissension between the governments of Spain and England.* In another newspaper the Orangemen were menaced with ruin in their trades.f This was a very important movement, for the Orangemen are the Irish garrison of English power. They are artizans, whereas the great mass of the Catholics are agri- cultural laboui'ers : *' Men to much misery and hardship bom." This is one of those melancholy consequences which invariably follow subjugation. When a nation is conquered, its mo- narch dethroned, its chiefs slain — its working-men are degraded into agricultural drud^^es. Like the afflicted Hebrews in the * " Annual Register." f Ibid. 23S LIFE AND TIMES OF o'CONNELL. bitter bondage of Egypt, they are compelled to adopt the most painful and unprofitable species of toil. They are shoved out of the workshops, and pushed aside from the loom, and hustled forth in tatters upon the bleak moor or the houseless wild, to confront the storm — to shiver in the freezing rain or cower in the driving hail — exposed, in short, to all the ^dcissitudes and inclemency of the weather ; tending cattle for a despicable pittance, or turning the soil for a spare and stan^eling suste- nance. On the other hand, the favoured countryman of the victor, with his children clustering round his hearth and cheering him with their infantile voices, plies the shuttle or moulds the vase sheltered by a warm roof, which defies the fury of the wintry tempest. No man feels so painfully as the working-man the bitter results of national thraldom — it enters his very marrow. He sees it in his shabby raiment — he tastes it in his stingy viands — he feels it in his sordid, base, and ill- requited toil. Everywhere he feels it. It plunges him into penury at home — it brands him with ignominy in foreign lands. To others it may be an affliction— to the working man it is a curse. This melancholy punishment was inflicted on the Ca- tholic inhabitants of Ireland, while the Orangemen were exempt from this infliction. Manufacturing industry, which has been swept out of the other parts of Ireland, has been tolerated by England in the north, to reward the Orangemen for acting as jailors and tortm'ers to the rest of the population. It would be very legitimate on the part of the Catholics to take measures for beggaring the Orangemen — to tame by want the wild beasts that ravened for their blood. As the Orangemen are the gar- rison of England, it would be a wise policy to endeavour to deprive that garrison of its pay. No one can suppose that men so selfish would serve the British crown a single moment after the loss of that manufacturing prosperity which constitutes at once their subsistence and reward. The aristocracy might set veiy little value on Catholic life, but the Orange linen- weavers set no small value on their Spanish market. It would be therefore a wise policy on the pai-t of the Catholics to para- lyze the hand that shed their blood, by cutting off the supplies that lent vigour to their persecutor. "The Orangemen" said O'Connell, "are the sworn enemies of Ireland, and naturally enough have ratified their alliance with England. But let us recollect that our own tradesmen are starving. Let them go to war with you ; do you content yourself with going to law with them. If they dare to attack the wealthy Catholic — a proceeding they are generally too pru- LIFE AND TIMES OF O'CONNELL. 239 dent to adopt — the wealthy Catholic can protect himself. If they attack the poor, we are bound and willing to procure pro- tection for him ; on his behalf the protection of the law shall be exerted. I am able to promise it, because the Catholic Board has the rich treasuiy of the Ii'ish heart to di'aw upon, in order to procm-e the funds necessary to afford this protec- tion. Can anything be more beastly than the conduct of Lord Kenyon, who is now organizing Orange lodges ? Why does not the animal see that the principle of exclusion might have prevented him from being a lord — that he has escaped into sinecure places, property, and peerages, by the accident of his father's creed ? For instance, if his father, who was a common writing- clerk to an attorney — if he had by accident been a Papist, the present Lord Kenyon, instead of being a peer, would most probably have been a private soldier or a peasant — or, at the utmost, by a timely conversion fi'om the errors of Poper}', he might have arrived at the dignity of being the first preacher and highest bouncer of some society of Welch jumpers (laughter). Yes, my Lord Kenyon, if he had a par- ticle of understanding, would feel that his Orange exertions expose the upstart only to the contempt of a people whom he may oppress, but of whom he would not dare personally to insult the lowest indi\ddual. ...... I have got in my possession a document which demonstrates the vulgar and lowly origin, as well as the traitorous and profligate purpose of this Orange society. It has been re- peatedly sworn to in judicial proceedings, that the original oath of an Orangeman was an oath to exterminate the Catho- lics. In some years after the society was fonned, men of a higher class of society became members of it ; and being too well educated to endure the plain declaration to extenninate, they changed the form of the oath to its present shape, but carefully retained all the persecuting spirit of the Armagh ex- terminations. The document I allude to was printed for the use of the Orange lodges ; it was never intended for any eye but that of the initiated, and I owe it to something better than chance that I got a copy of it. It was printed by William M'Kenzie, printer to the Grand Orange Lodge in 1810, and is entitled ' Rules and Regulations for the use of all Orange Societies, revised and corrected by a Committee of the Grand Orange Lodge of Ireland, and adopted by the Grand Orange Lodge, January 10th, 1810.' I can demonstrate from this document that the Orange is a vulgar, a profligate, and a treasonable association. To prove it treasonable, I read the 240 LIFE AND TIMES OF o'CONNELL. following, which is given as the fii'st of their secret articles : ' That we will bear true allegiance to his majesty, his heirs, and successors, so long as he or they support the Protestant ascen- dancy' (hear, hear). The meaning is ob\dous — the Orange- man will be loyal just so long as he pleases. The traitor puts a limit to his allegiance suited to what he shall fancy to be meant by the words 'Protestant ascendancy.' If the legisla- ture presumes to alter the law for the Irish Catholics, as it did for the Hanoverian Catholics, then is the Orangeman clearly discharged from his allegiance, and allowed at the first con- venient opportunity to raise a ci\il war — and this is what is called a loyal association (hear, hear). Oh ! how different from the unconditional, the ample, the conscientious oath of allegiance of the Irish Catholic. I pass over the second secret article, as it contains nothing worthy of observation ; but from the third, I shall at once demonstrate what pitiful and vulgar dogs the original Orangemen were. Mark the third secret article, I pray you : * That we will not see a brother offended for sixpence or one shilling (a laugh) — or more if convenient (a laugh), which must be returned next meeting if possible' (much laughter). Such is the third of the secret Orange arti- cles. I presume even Lord Yarmouth will go with them the full length of their liberality of sixpence or one shilling — but frirther his convenience may prevent him. The fourth secret article is quite characteristic : * That we must not give the first assault to any person whatsoever that may bring a brother into trouble' (laughter). You perceive the limitation. They are entitled to give the fii'st assault in all cases but that in which it may not be quite prudent ; they are restricted from commencing then- career of aggression unless they are, I pre- sume, ten to one — unless they are armed and the Catholics disarmed — unless their superiority in numbers and preparation is marked and manifest. See the natural alUance of cowardice with cruelty. They are ready to assault you vrhen no brother of theirs can be injured ; but if there be danger of injury to one of their brotherhood, they ai*e bound to restrain for that time their hatred of the Catholics, and to allow them to pass unattacked. This fourth article proves better than a volume the aggressive spirit of the institution, and accounts for many a riot and many a recent murder (hear, hear). The fifth secret article exhibits the rale of Orangemen with respect to robbery. * 5th. We are. not to carry away money, goods, or anything from any person whatever, except arms and ammuni- tion — and those only fr'om an enemy.' The rule allows them LIFE mD TIMES OF o'CONNELL. 241 to commit felony to this extent — namely, the arms and am- mmiition of any Catholic or enejny ; and I have heard of a Catholic who was disarmed of some excellent silver spoons and a silver cup by a detachment of this banditti. Yes, Lord Gosford was right when he called them a lawless banditti ; for here is such a regulation as could be framed only for those whose object was plunder — whose means were murder. The sixth and seventh secret articles relate to the attendance and enrolling of members ; but the eighth is of gi'eat impoiiance — it is this : ' 8th secret article. — An Orangeman is to keep a brother's secrets as his own, unless in case of murder, trea- son, and perjury — and that of his own free-will.' See what an abundant crop of crimes the Orangeman is bound to conceal for his brother Orangeman. lulling a Papist may, in his eyes, be no murder — and he might be bound to conceal that ; but he is certainly bound to conceal all cases of riot, maiming, wounding, stabbing, theft, robbing, rape, house-breaking, house-bm-ning, and every other human villany, save murder, treason, and perjury. These are the good, the faithful, the loyal subjects! They may, without provocation or excuse, attack and assault — give the first assault, mind, when they are certain no brother can be brought to trouble. They may felo- niously and burglariously break into dwellings, and steal, take, and carry away whatever they will please to call arms and am- munition. And if the loyalty of a brother tempts him to go a little further, and to plunder any other articles, or to burn the house, or to violate female honour, his brother spectators of his crime are bound by their oaths to screen it for ever from detection and justice (hear, hear). I know some men of better minds have been, in their hoiTor of revolutionary fury, seduced into these lodges, or have unthinkingly become members of them ; but the spirit, the object, and the consequences of this murderous and plundering association are not the less mani- fest." The existence of the Orangemen seemed to be threatened with destruction by N. P. O'Gorman. O'Gonnell asserted that upon occasions of great importance, when intending to make a speech which should *' resound through the world," N. P. O'Gorman invariably put on a pair of white silk stockings striped with black ! Precisely as a storm at sea is indicated by a black cloud in the sky, a tempest in the Catholic Committee was indicated by white silk stock- ings striped with black on the brawny legs of Counsellor O'Gorman. It was an infallible prognostic. The origin of this custom was not a little remarkable. It is alleged that 11 242 LIFE AND TDIES OF O'CONNELL. "wlien the Catliolic deputation vraited on Earl Grey, O'Gonnan, who attended the deputation as secretary, observed with pro- found interest that Earl Grey's extremities were sheathed in white silk stockings striped with black. The hosiery of the earl made a deep impression on the fancy of Counsellor O'Gorman — and ever after, upon solemn occasions, a facsimile of his lordship's stockings were seen distended upon the her- culean symmetries of the Catholic orator. They constituted his oratorical costume — his battle dress ; and it was generally admitted that when spattered with mire and a little seedy in appearance, they were very emblematic of Earl Grey's political proceedings. A waggish barrister, in a moment of conviviality at an even- ing party, accused O'Gorman of being a musician. He stoutly denied the charge. *' A jury," saidO'Connell, " was thereupon impanelled to try the defendant, who persisted in pleading ' not guilty' to the indictment for melodious practices. The jury consisted of ConL3'ne under twelve different aliases, such as Con of the Seven Bottles, &c. The prosecutor then proceeded to inten'ogate the defendant : * By -sdrtue of your oath, Mr. O'Gorman, did you never play on any musical instrument?' 'Never, on my honour,' replied O'Gorman. ' Come, sir, recol- lect yourself ; by virtue of youi' oath, did you never play second fiddle to O'Connell ?' The fact was too notorious to admit of any defence, and the unanimous jury accordingly returned a verdict of guilty." On some occasions, however, he was not open to this charge. Counsellor O'Gorman moved on the 29th June, 1813, that the Catholic Board should appeal to the Cortes, or parliament of Spain, calHng on them to intercede with Britain on behalf of the Irish Catholics. He said that he should find precedents to sanction such a proceeding. O'Connell said that he had no doubt that his learned friend would be able to find precedents in abundance. *'AVhen the people of Flanders were subject to Spain, they appealed to the English, who actually famished them with arms to resist the oppression that aggi'ieved them. The Irish Catholics do not require from the Cortes arms to enforce their rights. They only ask for s}-mpathy, and any benefit that can result from a dispassionate remonstrance with Britain. The eflicacy of an appeal to foreign powers, was eminently estabhshed by the successful interference of Cardinal de Fleury. The parHa- ment of Ireland, it was known to all who heard him, had, for the pure honour and gloiy of religion aud the interest of the LIFE AND TIMES OF O CONNELL. 243 state, resolved upon the Christian-like expedient of emascula- ting the Irish priests. A bill for this mse, statesman-like, and manly purpose passed the Irish House of Lords and the Irish House of Commons, and was sent over to England for final sanction and approval. The poor people of Ireland, how- ever — bereft of all other succour in such a harrowing and soul- inflaming moment of their degradation and debasement — con- trived to have an application made to the famous French minis- ter, De Fleury, for his intercession in then* behalf. The ap- peal was timely and successful. The barbarity was averted ; and the lord lieutenant of the day had the painful duty of in- forming parliament that their wise intentions could not be carried into efl'ect." At an after meeting, O'Connell went on to say ** that the Duke of Sussex had made three objections to the appeal to Spain. First — he said it would be going out of the line of Emancipation ; second — it would subject the Catholics to unjust imputations from their enemies ; and thnd — it would be an irregular and illegal interference with the exe- cutive branch of the legislature." In replying to the amiable Duke of Sussex (who had ingeniously contrived to eat his way, through public dinners without number — mountains of beef, mutton, and pastry — to an exalted popularity, which made him, in the hands of his brethren, dangerous to liberty) O'Connell said, that applying to the allies of England — such as Spain — was quite as legal as applying to the subjects of the same power — such as the sjmod of Ulster. In this application a foreign power did not influence the Catholics — on the con- trary, the Catholics sought to influence a foreign power, which was exactly the opposite of what the opponents of Emancipa- tion pretended to apprehend. The answer to the third was, that though the theory of the constitution might seem to be violated, the appeal to Spain was nevertheless entirely con- formable with every day's practice. Had the appeal to Spain which O'Goiinan mooted been united with the movement against Orange industry which we have previously alluded to, the Catholic Boai'd would have crippled, beggared, and degi'aded that ferocious and intolerant faction whose sanguinary atrocities, fostered by the aristocracy, spread terror through the appalled community and banished concord fi'om the island. If chivalrous Spain, sympathising with her down-trodden sister, had rejected the linens of Ulster, gaunt famine, leading desolation by the hand, would have en- tered Belfast, and prosperity would have fled from the entire province. The Catholics. would have cowed or killed the blood- 244 LIFE AND TIMES OP O'CONNELL. hound straining on tlie leash — held by the jewelled hands of aristocracy — ^and roaring and ravening for Catholic blood, and ready in a moment to dash at thek throats. Deprived of that savage auxiliaiy, on whom they confidently relied, and which had a thousand times fi-ustrated the Irish in their ejfforts to attain freedom, the English would have complied with the de- mands of the Catholics at once. The swaggering loyalty, the idiot admiration of British ascendancy which characterize the Ulstermen, would disappear if their prosperity were jeopar- dized; fi,'om blind partizans, as they are now in 1863, they would become clear-sighted patriots, as they were in 1793; and from steadfast friends, the fiercest enemies of that epis- copal church which fleeced the poor, and that aristocratic state which ground, strangled, and extinguished the industry of Ca- tholic Ireland. Even as it was, 130 of the clergy and elders of the Presbyterian church, assembled in solemn synod, de- clared in favour of Catholic freedom. Had the motives sup- plied by an enlightened philanthropy received strength from impulses furnished by pecuniary considerations — had they ap- prehended the loss of their Spanish market, the exertions of the Presbyterians would have been increased a hundred-fold. Ligatures which no foreign power could break — ligatures of gold — would have bound them, heart and soul, to the national interests. The conduct of the bill of 1813 in the House of Commons was a muddle of mismanagement. The Catholics should have been consulted before it was introduced. Being founded upon certain securities, the bill was of course nugatory unless the Catholics consented to those securities. Far from consenting, however, language seemed unable to express the dismay and abhorrence with which the proposals filled the Catholics. The Protestants most hostile to Emancipation did not re- joice so loudly at the rejection of the bill of 1813 as the Catholics, for whose relief it was nominally framed. In vain did Mr. Grattan protest in England that the proceedings of the Catholics were misrepresented — that there existed in Ire- land no spfrit inimical to the bill. The indignation which the bill excited in the Catholic mind caused Counsellor 0' Gorman to propose an appeal from the pai'liament of England to the Cortes of Spain — a resolution which awakened in Britain the utmost astonishment. Here are the words of O'Gorman's re- solution : *' Resolved — that it be an instruction to the CathoHc Board to consider of the constitutional fitness and propriety of Bending an earnest and pressing memorial to the Spanish LIFE AND TIMES OP o'CONNELL. 245 Cortes, stating to them the enslaved and depressed state of their fellow- Catholics in Ireland with respect to their exclu- sion, on the score of their religion, from the benefits of the British constitution, and imploring their favourable intercession with their ally, our most gracious sovereign." This motion was pregnant of advantages to Ireland that are equally beyond calculation and expression ; and had it been directed against the linen lords of Ulster and their Orange m3n.*midons, it would have broken the chains of Ireland, and made her an independent state. Had the Cortes, at the prayer of the Irish, interdicted the sale of Ulster linen in Spain, the pillars which sustain British power in Ireland would have been shaken — the whole edifice would have been overtm-ned. But this was not his object, and therefore he produced no results. The proposal of O'Gorman, seconded by O'Connell, alarmed the enemies of Ireland — made them quake and jibber in their gilded palaces. Animated by the suggestions of the aristocracy, the London Courier prepared to assail the Board. It said, in June, 1813: "Originally established to prepare petitions for the pm'pose of obtaining what is called Catholic Emancipation, that object seems now to be only one of the objects it has in view. It directs its attention to other sub- jects of domestic policy. It has its committee of supply — its committee of inquiiy. If any event of importance — if any outrage happen in any part of the sister kingdom — in Mona- ghan, for instance — the Board takes cognizance of it, as if it had either competency or control, or could provide a remedy. The efi'ect of these proceedings in this committee of inflamma- tion is to keep up an irritation in the public mind ; to make the public take a wi'ong view of public measures ; to make them suspicious and distrustful of those legal and constitu- tional bodies to which alone they should look up ; to induce them to believe that the legislature and executive do not pro- perly watch over their happiness, and that they have interests distinct fi'cm and adverse to theirs ; to persuade them to withdraw their confidence fi*om their representatives, chosen according to the constitution, and place them in a body un- known to the constitution — the Catholic Board." Such was the opinion of the literary hireling who assailed the Cathohcs at the beck of the aristocracy. But the real crime of the CathoUc Board was its power as a training school. It deve- loped political talents, produced men of an order too supe- rior to be slaves, nurtured genius, placed a wreath of popu- liu'ity on the brow of real worth, and exhibited to pubhc notice 246 LIFE AND TIMES OF O^CONNELL. the long-neglected treasures of native talent and viiiue. Dis- cussions were carried on in the Board by men who were too able, too earnest, and too active to submit to chains and degradation. The English opposed Emancipation with all their might because they dreaded an invasion of L'ish eloquence with which they could not compete. The speech which Mr. Abbot delivered in 1813 seems to demonstrate this view. He depre- cated, in a manner which made a profound impression on his hearers, the admission of Catholics into the House, where, he said, "an able and eloquent leader might acquire the most dangerous ascendancy. ' ' He declared himself willing that Catholics should be admitted to oflSces in the navy and army ; he was hkewise willing that the Catholic soldier should receive protection in the exercise of his religion ; but he would never afford an able and eloquent Catholic an opportunity of obtain- ing in the House of Commons what he termed "a dangerous ascendancy." Mr. Abbot seemed apprehensive lest a Catholic Irishman, such as 0' Council, should obtain in the House that supremacy which a Protestant — Canning — at that moment enjoyed. ^ The Irish Catholics were never more profoundly agitated and distressed than by Canning's project in 1813, relative to the commission which we have already alluded to. Canning's object in establishing commissioners to guarantee the loyalty of episcopal dignitaries, was to afford to the aris- tocracy what Bright has in our day termed "out- door relief." An anecdote will elucidate what we mean. Edgeworth, the father of the novehst, framed, in 1813, a system of telegra- phic communication throughout Ireland ; and as his only object was the public good, this ingenious man presented his plan in the form of a memorial to the English government. His plan was gTeatly admired and highly extolled, and thanks were politely returned to Edgeworth — but at the same time he was privately given to understand that notwithstanding its obvious utility, it was liable to one fatal objection — it was too economical and yielded no patronage ! The true object of the aristocracy in establishing the commission was to create well-paid places for their own members — to obtain " out- door relief." For pur- poses of patronage the commission would be very effective, but it could serve effectively for no other purpose. The framers of the bill of 1B13 said, in effect, to the Catholic bishops: " True, you are irreproachable men ; we believe you to be excellent. But this is not enough — we must also have lucrative berths. It is LIFE AND TDIES OF O'CONNELL. 247 not enough that we believe you to be loyal — the people must j)ay us for certifying to your loyalty. Our object is not to secure the state — it is merely to secure a job I " At one and the same time Counsellor 0' Gorman was making his motion relative to the Spanish Cortes in the Catholic Board, and Counsellor Bellew was receiving the foul reward of his dishonom- — the fii'st instalment of his third pension — in the Castle of Dublin. Almost at the same moment, too, the go- vernment resolved to weaken the Board by means of the Trim- leston party — to shake it by the stonn of attack, and under- mine it with secession. By withdi-awing the props which sus- tained the edifice, the aristocracy hoped to see the whole pile come down. Bellew had led on an attack by which the govern- ment hoped to weaken the influence of the bishops ; he sub- sequently organized a secession by which government hoped to ruin the Board. The "knightly pm^ity" of Bellew, who was in government pay, was highly extolled by newspapers which were themselves in the pay of the government ; and as large numbers were influenced by his example, his withdrawal could not fail to injure the Board. This was the object — and here we see the service which an aristocratic government can derive from those aristocratic recruits who join the popular ranks with the view of advancing their individual interests. We see that the more liberal an aristocrat becomes, the more he is to be feared : " Of noxious creatures — if the learned are right — It is the slaver kills, and not the bite." The blindness of the populace shocked and scandalized the government organs, which were entirel}^ at a loss to know why public opinion should reposit the honesty and disinterestedness •of the Board in O'Connell's party — should place virtue and patriotism on one side, and title and treachery on the other. This the government press could not understand. An article on this subject concludes with these words : '' We should wish that Mr. Bellew, notwithstanding his undoubted titles to con- sideration, had not interfered in CathoHc poHtics. We respect his character, his rank in society, his very superior talents ; but, as he happens to be a pensioner, we should much rather see his place filled by another." The wiiter seems to for- get that if he had not interfered in Irish politics, Mr. Bellew would not have got fi'om government his third pension. He had now £800 a-year, and doubtless hoped to make it £1,200. There are many statesmen who believe the country must be 248 LIFE AND TIMES OF o'CONNELL. saved it they receive ^1,200 a-year. It is a peculiar class. Twelve hundred a-year, paid quarterly, is their idea of political science and human nature. To receive £1,200 a-year is op- position. To wish to receive £1,200 per annum is ambition. If a man want to get into parliament, and does not want to get £1,200 a-year, they look on him as daft — as a benighted being. They stare in each other's faces, and ask: "What does Jones want to get into parliament for?" They have no conception that public reputation is a motive power. Mi*. Bellew seems to have been one of these. His secession cer- tainly was followed by the ruin of the Board. O'Connell's capacity to defend the hierarchy was in some degree proportioned to the fearlessness which the bishops displayed in rejecting the Canning clauses. Their courage rose in proportion to his power and energy. He spread the wings of his genius over the flock ; and, shielded by his over- spreading pinions, the shepherds defied the vultures which were hovering overhead, and watching an opportunity to devour them. It is impossible to calculate the efiects which the vigour and daring of O'Connell produced on the councils of the Irish Church. At least, it is highly possible that the bishops would not have spoken out so boldly had they not had a champion like O'Connell to vindicate their proceedings. O'Connell was assailed by the hostile press for precisely the same reason that Bellew was extolled. *'Do you, Coun- sellor O'Connell," asks a Dublin journal of 1813, *' who are the leader of the non-conciliators, who have lately become the sole medium of intercourse between the prelates and the Board — do you, with a grave and serious countenance, tell us that we ai'e culpable because, having been of a certain opinion antecedently to the publication of the bishops' resolution, we did not instantly alter it when these resolutions made their appearance ? Say you do, or you do not. If you do not, why should we be condemned by your party ? If you do, let us ask you why did you in last May, at Stationers' Hall, pro- claim, that if the bishops at their expected meeting should re- solve upon disapproving of the clauses, they should have your hearty concm-rence ; but if they should approve of the clauses, much as you might respect their opinions, they should noi have your concurrence? On the 15th May you spoke as fol lows in Stationers' Hall : * The Board have been told that the bishops ai'e to meet. I hope that this information wdll prove correct : I know at least that they ought to meet. If they should not meet — or meeting, should not take notice of the LIFE AND TIMES OF o'CONNELL. 249 new arrangements (as they are called) which are attempted to be introduced respecting their order, I know what shall be the duty of the Board ; and I am certain the !Poard will never sweiwe from that which is its duty. I have heard a great deal about the impropriety of interfering in questions which belong, as it is said, to the bishops to decide upon, and the almost impiety of differing from them. I have heard it said that the laity never have differed from their bishops. The contrary is the fact. They have differed materially twice. Once in modern times, and once at a remote period — in the nineteenth century, and in the seventeenth — on the famous Veto in our own times, and on the famous excommunications at Kilkenny. On both these occasions the laity differed with the clergy — and differed judiciously. What, then, becomes of the assertion that the laity have no right to offer their opinions when they clash with those of the clergy ? I contend that upon all occa- sions connected with public liberty — and such I am satisfied is the present — the people have not only a right, but are called upon to deliver their opinions.' " The language which the government itself used in the House cori'esponds in some degree with the conduct of the "Veto Paper;" the langiiage seems to have inspired what the sub- sidy rewarded. When a petition from the Presbyterian synod of Scotland was presented in favour of Catholic Emancipation, we are told, " Mr. Canning took this occasion of adverting to the priestly tyranny and influence used out of doors to injm-e the Catholic cause. He was happy to observe the manly disavowment given by resolutions lately published in England, and he hoped that such an example would be followed in another part of the kingdom. If such tyranny were ex- ercised, it was necessary that the CathoHcs should first eman- cipate themselves from the oppression of their priests." The dishonest natm-e of Bellew's pai-ty in the CathoHc Board, and the truth and sincerity of O'Connell, were plainly mani- fested in the affair of Dr. Milner. That distinguished divine, being an English bishop, had been originally friendly to the Veto ; but when the Irish prelates came to the well-known resolutions of 1808, Dr. Milner became the most zealous and indefatigable opponent of the Veto. *' He was ready," he said, "rather to give his blood than to give anun-Catholic sovereign either power or influence in any part of the Catholic Church." The Irish prelates in synod assembled resolved unanimously : " That the thanks of this meeting be and are hereby given to the Right Rev. Dr. Milner, Bishop of Castaballa, lor the faith- 250 LIFE AND TIMES OF O'CONNELL. ful discharge of his duty as agent to the Roman Catholic bishops of this part of the United Kingdom." In 1813, the aristocratic party in the Catholic Board boldly accused Dr. Milner with haying dashed from the lips of the Catholics the brimming cup of hope, which Grattan and Canning held to them in the bill which had been framed or modified by those gentlemen. The Catholic aristocracy made no account of the poisonous ingredients with which the chalice in question was di'ugged. They were willing, from sordid mo- tives, to swallow it — poison and all. When 'Council, in the Catholic Board, proposed a vote of thanks to Dr. Milner, the opposition he encountered can hardly be imagined. The notice of motion served as a signal to the whole aristocratic faction. They came swai'ming in from every part of the country. O'Connell rose to speak upon the motion at five o'clock on the evening of the 12th June, 1813. The enemies of Dr. Milner, who filled the room, anxious to oppose the motion, watched O'Connell v^th attention. Nothing could sm-pass their disappointment and vexation when O'Connell calmly announced that the hour was too far advanced to intro- duce the discussion of so important a question. The chamber rang with passionate cries of " No, no !" " Go on 1" They saw the opportunity of insulting Dr. Milner slipping from their grasp, and they were exasperated to fmy by O'Connell's stra- tagem. Their turbulence diminished when Lord Trimleston, ■v\dth his habitual pohteness and accustomed craft — ** A cherub's head — a serpent all the rest," rose to speak. " The time of the members," he said, '' was not their own — it was the time of the Irish people. As the motion was of great importance in the opinion of Mr. O'Con- nell, he was sm-e that no gentleman would put off the consi- deration of it merely to gi'atify his palate or his stomach." Mr. O'Connell declared that he would not press his resolu- tion now. He would wait to consider fui'ther before he divided the Board upon it. That there was a strong difference of opinion he could easily perceive, and therefore he thought it his duty to postpone his resolution. Ml'. Hussey said that a notice of a most important nature had been given — the object of which was to thank Dr. Milner and insult their friends in parliament. This notice naturally alarmed all thinking, rational men. The members had at- tended from all pai'ts of the country — there were upwards of 140 present. When his learaod friend found this, and that LIFE AND TIMES OF O'CONNELL. 251 he would not have five to divide with him, he withdrew his notice and renewed it for the next meeting of the Board. " The country gentlemen find they are brought to town for nothing ; and though they may persevere for a few weeks, they will at last cease attending — and then the motion will be pressed and carried by a party who by trick contrive to have then- own motions passed as the act of the Board. It is only five o'clock," continued Hussey. "I dare my learned friend to bring for- ward his motion. If he declines doing so, the reason is plain — no man can be duped by it. He knows he will be left in a miserable minority." In reply to this, O'Connell said he had a right to post- pone his motion ; he would submit the right to the chairman. The chau-man agreed with O'Connell. and the motion was ac- cordingly postponed. The vexation of the aristocratic party at this success of O'Connell cannot be described ; but their morti- fication was increased a hundred-fold when, at the aggregate meeting of 15th June, a vote of thanks to Dr. Milner was sub- mitted to the multitude. Foui' thousand at least were present at this meeting. When the name of Milner was mentioned by O'Connell, the scene which the theatre presented was perfectly indescribable. Every human being present, with a shout of raptm-e that shook the building, rose from his seat ; and the whole assembly continued for several moments waving hand- kerchiefs, clapping hands, and beating the gi'ound in a perfect frenzy of acclamation. The scene astonished and appalled the envious aristocrats, who were obliged in their own despite to swell the ocean of sound that surged around them. The pent-up hearts of the people, tortured in their dearest feelings, seemed as if they could never pour out a sufficiency of accla- mation to hail the name of the venerable opponent of the Veto. When the applause had subsided the resolution was read : " That the warm approbation and gratitude of the Ca- thoHcs be conveyed to the Right Rev. Dr. Milner, for his manly, upright, and conscientious opposition (in conformity with the Most Rev. and Right R^ev. the prelates of Ireland) to the eccle- siastical regulations contained in the bill lately submitted to par- liament, and purporting to be a Bill for the Further Relief of His Majesty's Roman Catholic Subjects." The preceding resolution was listened to in the deepest silence. Nothing was to be heard but the fine, mellow voice of O'Connell reading these remarkable words. But when the last syllable issued from his lips, the scene changed again. The whole assembly rose with a thunder that cannot be de- 252 LIFE AND TISrES OF o'CONNElXr scribed, and as if animated vnih one impulse. Nothing conld be seen but waving bats, bandkercbiefs, smiling faces, and demonstrations of pleasure — notbing beard but sbouts of rap- ture. An electric sensation seemed to run through the as- sembly, of which the transports for several moments were un- controllable. The ladies in the boxes came forward to the front, and by their courtesies, smiles, and waving handker- chiefs expressed their warm participation in the general feel- ing. Since Peter the Hermit preached the ciTisade, perhaps, warmer enthusiasm was never displayed. O'Connell then described the disgraceful manner in which the English Catholics had acted towards Dr. Milner. The venerable prelate had been expelled from the paltiy club calling itself the "Catholic Board of England." In one breath they had thanked Castlereagh and endeavoured to fix a stigma on a most reverend and venerable prelate — the only Englishman be had everknowTito think justly on all Irish sub- jects. Dr. Milner was made the sport of the vilest caprice and the most spiteful ill-nature by those English Catholics, as they called themselves. For what crime or offence, think you? Simply for proclaiming that to be schism which the Catholic prelates of Ireland had unanimously declared to be such. At an aggregate meeting held in Fishamble-street in Juno, 1813, O'Connell proved that his countrymen were warranted in pressing their claims, because the highest personage in the state recognised the justice of conceding their rights. ''The enthusiastic afiection they had expressed for the prince, the hope they had cherished might be delusive, but was not irrational. The Prince of Wales, under the tuition of Charles James Fox, had learned politics in a good school — the school of the most manly and honest statesman of the age. Therefore the prince had long been dear to Ireland. During the first illness of George III., when insanity first darkened the royal mind, Pitt — the greatest curse that Providence in its wrath ever in- flicted on England — resolved to disinherit the Prince of Wales ; a resolution which was encouraged by the aristocracy — the great borough-mongering peers — and paid for by the monied interest of England, with whom Pitt had bai-tered and sold his country. Pitt accomplished his purpose, and bequeathed his example to the sanctimonious Perceval. But the Irish par- liament judged more rightly. Though under aristocratic influ- ence, ruled by borough-mongers, the Iiish parHament had an Irish heart. It decided that as on the king's death the prince must inherit the crown, so when his reason was extinguished — LIFE AND TIMES OF O'CONNELL. 253 when lie was intellectually deceased, the royal authority, by the closest analogy, belonged to the prince. Who could forget the answers of his royal highness ? Who could forget how he talked of his afiection and gratitude to the generous people of Ireland ? How he promised to devote his life to the preserva- tion of their liberties — to the establishment of their happiness. When, in 1805, we asked Pitt to present our petition, Pitt — whose written pledge in favour of Emancipation was in our hands — refused. How different was the conduct of Fox. Fox presented oui' petition, and supported it by one of those power- ful bursts of eloquence the effect of which still operates in our favour. Fox at that period was the friend of the prince, and we naturally combined the wishes of the one with the senti- ments of the other. And, although the prince did not attend the House of Peers when our question was debated — though he neither spoke in the House nor voted for us, his opinions w^ere not concealed. Shortly after that debate, a letter was written by the Earl of Kenmare, stating the substance of a commu- nication made to him by the Prince of \Vales, in which the prince most distinctly recognised the justice and the expedi- ency of concession to us ; and though delicacy prevented him from taking any public part in our behalf, he was determined to forward oui' relief so soon as he should have it in his power. Such was the substance of the prince's pledge, as stated in the letter of the Earl of Kenmare. The gentleman to whom it was written was requested to make it as public as possible without inserting it in the newspapers." The government of Britain is not a monarchy — it is an aristocracy, in which the lords individually are the equals of the king — collectively, his superiors. What we are told of the representative or constitutional nature of the British go- vernment is a hoax. The true rulers are the jealous aris- tocracy, whose interest it was to degi'ade the sovereign to a cypher by curtailing his power, or by plunging him into vices which deprive him of character and popularity. The proceed- mgs of the Irish in the regency question — their efforts to elevate the prince, who was sane, to an equality with his . father, who was mad — to make him a monarch in all but name, was deeply offensive to those umbrageous men who, in the Lower House, governed through their boroughs, and in the Upper House ruled in their own persons. The prince was the menial of the lords, and the cheat he practised on the Irish, with the aid of Lord Kenmare, savours of the base trickery and grovelhng baseness of a knavish menial. He gave them a promise — but 254 LIFE AND TIMES OF o'CONNELL. he lied in gi^'ing it. When danger menaced the empire, the pledge was craftily conveyed; when smiling peace returned, the pledge was mendaciously denied. O'Connell must have seen through the fraud. He says : " Since that period Lord Kenmare is no more. With his virtues his secret — as to the prince's promises — is buiied. Nothing remains of it but the fading memory of persons who heard the language of the prince from the report of the earl. There lives, however, another noble earl — and long may he live for Ireland — the Earl of Fingal, to whom a similar communication was made by the Prince of Wales. It was not made in any confidence, but expressly for the pui'pose of being circulated among the people of Ireland, and to serve as a soothing balm to assuage the fever of disap- pointment created by a rejection of their petition. This decla- ration of his royal highness to the Earl of Fingal asserted, as before, that he was prevented by delicacy from giving us public support — he was convinced of the justice of our claims, and determined to assist us whenever he might be able to afibrd constitutional assistance Lord Fingal, on the veiy day of the communication, put the particulars on paper ; and as Lord Clifden and the late Lord Petre were present at the conversation, the paper was shown to them on the same day, and they declared the perfect accuracy of its contents. This it is that I am desirous should come before the public, and remain for ever as an authentic document of the prince's opinion in our favour. No delicacy is violated by the disclosure of this fact. I heard it from the noble earl in Fitzpatrick's shop ; there were three or four others present, one of whom was my respected friend Major Bryan. But this was not the only proof we had of the sentiments of his royal highness. There are several persons present to whom a similar pledge was com- municated by his grace the Duke of Bedford. With these sure grounds of hope — with a reliance on the honour and integrity of the prince, the CathoHcs of Ireland viewed his accession to power with the most ardent, the most affectionate demon- strations of loyalty. That loyalty remains unshaken ; but sub- sequent events have damped the ardour of om- affections, turned feelings of enthusiastic attachment into the cold observances of duty. If those feelings had been encouraged — if their growth had been fostered, what a different scene would Ireland at this day present. Instead of detaining an army in her baiTacks, her instinctively martial population — would have furnished ten armies for the public service, and the tranquillity of the land would be secured by an imarmed pohce constable." LIFE AND TIMES OF O'CONNELL. 255 O'Connell concluded by moTing, **That tlie secretary be di- rected to wi'ite to the Earl of Fiugal, to request of him to com- municate to the Board the contents of the paper containing the declaration of the Prince of Wales on the Catholic claims, made to his lordship in the presence of Viscount Clifden and Lord Petre." The statements of O'Connell were confirmed by the testi- mony of Major Bryan. He was present in Fitzpatrick's book- shop when the noble earl related the words of the pledge which the earl had heard from the prince's lips. Sir Francis Goold was likewise present on that occasion. Mr. Bagot said he knew that Lord Fingal would not consent to the request about to be made to him — nay, he had authority for avowing the fact. ' ' ^^^ly then should Lord Fingal be placed in an invidious and disagreeable position ? I deprecate a war- fare with the first magistrate of these realms, who can render services and might inflict injuries." Feeling that he was accused in these words of " making war" on the prince regent, O'Connell asserted that such war, if it existed, had not injured the Catholics. It was while they were calling the prince their early friend, then- best and proudest hope— it was in the full tide of their warm afiections, that they had been met by a state prosecution, that their delegates were an-ested and then* meetings dispersed. " It was long after the prosecution of the Catholics commenced that they pubhcly mom-ned the unworthy witchery which had, with magic touch, blasted their fervent hopes. The witchery resolutions had not injm-ed their cause." As O'Connell succeeded in carrying his resolution, the secretaiy wrote to Lord Fingal. That aristocratic indivi- dual in his reply stated, that he never had had an audience or intei-view (in the presence of Lords CHfden and Petre) with the Prince of Wales. He was besides persuaded that con- versations between individuals of whatever rank were not fit subjects of public discussion. The pledge which was alluded to he did not possess. Lord Clifden, in a letter addressed to Lord Fingal, said that he never had an audience with the prince in the presence of Lords Fingal and Petre. As to the written pledge, he had never seen that document. A third letter from Sir Francis Goold was then read, which corrobo- rated Fingal and Clifden. The existence of this pledge, which millions had cherished and relied on, was thus denied by Lords Fingal and Clifden and Sir Francis Goold. As this man's dignity was not so exalted as Fingal's or CHfden' s, his lies aro 256 LIFE AND TIMES OF O CONNELL. not so sweeping ; they dwindle down to an equality with his more modest dignity — they are not so mountainous as the noble earl's. He has not, he says, "the least trace on his memory of the supposed pledge — he did not think it could ever have taken place ; but he (Sir Francis Goold) ever had a strong impression on his mind that his royal highness had always expressed him- self in very favourable terms towards the Catholics of Ii-eland." The baronet does not lie so courageously as their lordships. Major Biyan then rose and said: *'I declare, upon my honour, that about five years ago, I was called into Fitzpatrick's inner shop in Capel-street, where Lord Fingal stated in the presence of Sir Francis Goold and Mr. O'Connell, that he had seen the prince regent in the presence of Lords Clifden and Petre, and on that occasion his ro}^^! highness expressed him- self in favour of Catholics in terms so extremely strong, that Lord Fingal committed his words to paper." O'Connell then rose and said: "I give the same solemn pledge which Major Bryan has uttered respecting what passed in Fitzpatrick's shop. The report of the pledge which has appeared is perfectly accurate." It is impossible to doubt the two commoners — it is impossi- ble to believe the two lords. The defence which was set up for their mendacious lordships in the newspapers of the day affords evidence of their falsehood. It says : " Let us sup- pose that a peer requires an audience of the sovereign on pub- lic affairs, or one gentleman requires an inter^dew of another. The conference is pre-arranged, and the conferrers are pre- pared against either pledge or declaration. But should a conversation happen at a levee or in the street, no honest man would strain it to entrap the sovereign into destroying the constitution." In this excuse there is a tacit admission that the prince gave the pledge ; but as it was uttered in conversa- tion, not at an audience orinter\dew, it was of no moment — it was a lie. From this we learn that in conversation lying is pardonable, but in an *' inter\dew" lying is reprehensible. It was a grave mistake on the part of O'Connell to suppose that honour and honesty, principle and truth, are precisely the same in all places and at all times. This was a serious error. There is a geogi*aphical morality with which O'Connell was not acquainted, which controls the language and guides the conduct of lords and princes. They can lie in a conversation, but must tell truth in an interview. This is a feature in aristocratic morality of which honest men should aot remain LIFE AND TIMES OF O'CONNELL. 257 The explanation of the mendacious shuffling of the prince is to be found in the fact, that early in the present centuiy, when the prince gave the pledge, Napoleon I, was prepai-- ing to cany into execution a mighty project for the invasion of L'eland. The danger of invasion had disappeared when Lord Killeen's memory proved so feeble — when every trace of the pledge vanished from the recollection of Sir Francis Goold. Some men deemed the menace of invasion an empty threat, others regarded it as based on reality ; among the latter we may reckon the Prince of Wales. We know — since the pub- lication of Napoleon's correspondence — that the fears of the prince were well-founded. Amid the various disclosures which have been made respecting Napoleon I., nothing is more re- markable than the picture which is presented of the unwearied attention with which, from the rupture of the peace of Amiens till the final destruction of his hopes at Moscow, he was brooding over this project. It was never his purpose to hazard the vast army and flotilla which he had collected at Boulogne, unless he should have been previously enabled to draw the English squadi'ons from the Channel, and appear in the narrow seas with an overwhelming naval force. ''Let us be only masters of the Channel for six hours, and we shall be masters of the world," said Napoleon I. The mystery of the prince's pledge is explained by Napoleon's threatened invasion. To effect this invasion the fleets of France and Spain were put to sea whenever they could escape unnoticed ; and he endeavoured, by marching troops towards points which were not intended to be attacked — by menacing Egj'pt and India — to delude the English squadrons into a distant and unavailing pursuit. Ex- peditions were to be sent against St. Helena, Gorce, and Sui-inam. They were to present themselves before every road- stead, and to spread alarm at once through Asia, Aliica, and America. "You must insert in the journals that extraordi- nary and important intelligence from India has arrived — no- thing is accm-ately known except that British India is going to destruction." *' I shall threaten Egypt in so many manners, and with such apparent earnestness, that the enemy will ap- prehend a formidable blow. They will fear that my squadrons will attack India." "Egypt will fill them with terror. I have an army ready at Tarento, and I have a milUoa rations of biscuit," wi'ites Napoleon I. to his admirals. The combined fleets, after spreading alarm through the West Indies, returned towards FeiTol. " It is my intention," writes Napoleon, " that, provided Villeneuve has twenty vessels under 258 LIFE AND TIMES OF o'CONNELL. Ms command, he sliall repair to FeiTol, where lie must cer- tainly find fifteen French or Spanish ships. With these thirty- five vessels he shall appear before Brest, where Admiral Gantheaume will foiTQ a junction with him. He shall enter the Channel then with these fifty-six ships." An invasion of Ireland was to follow. A fleet was to land 18,000 men to the north of the bay of Lough Swilly ; then passing round Scotland to appear off Boulogne, or go to the Texel, where they would find seven Dutch sail of the line and 27,000 men, which they were to take back to Ireland. " Then when I have 30,000 or 40,000 men in Ireland — whether I be in England or Ireland — victory must declare for us." '* If your presence," he wrote to Admiral Yilleneuve, "render us master of the sea before Boulogne during three days, we shall have it in our power to land our expedition, composed of 2,000 vessels and 160,000 men. When these gigantic preparations were making by Napoleon I. the promises of the prince were vividly imprinted on the memoiy of the noble lords ; but when Russian fortitude at Moscow bm'ied in the snows the power of Napoleon, every trace of the pledge was washed from the recollection of their lordships — they could not remember a single syllable of it. Yet the time was certainly not so long. Napoleon's prepara- tions were made in 1805. Lord Fingal remembered the pledge in 1807 — but it had faded from his memory in 1813. The mortification of the CathoHcs was bitter to find the "bright hopes they cherished" terminating in a vexatious illusion, re- sembling those deceptive fruits of the Dead Sea which with their bloom and beauty tempt the eye, but turn into ashes and bit- terness in the mouth. The silence observed by the Catholics when thus foiled in then* expectations indicates clearly their melancholy degradation. They should have denounced Lords Fingal and Clifden as liars of the basest character — miscreants of the vilest t}-pe. But though perfectly conscious of their ras- caUty, they failed to hold them up to the scorn and vituperation of the public ; they shut then* eyes to their lordships' unprin- cipled shuffling, and though feehng bitterly that they had been tricked, defrauded, and imposed on, their slavish respect for the *' whistling of a name" hushed them into reverential silence. They still desired to retain their lordships' friendship, though profoundly convinced of their worthlessness and insincerity. Were they wise, the Catholics would not have rehed on them as fiiends nor feared them as enemies — they would have flung oJBf all connexion with the aristocracy before those men seceded LIFE AND TIMES OF o'CONNELL. 259 from the Board — men who cannot be faithful to the interests of the people without betraying the interests of their own class. The British empire is not more than 160 years in existence. It originated in the Scottish Union, which took place about that period. The previous title was — the English monarchy and Scotch kingdom. The Scotch said, "We will not be Englishmen ; you will not be Scotchmen. Let us sink our respective titles in the common name of Britons." They did so. The aristocracy of Britain have managed within that 160 years to make themselves masters of a wide segment of the earth's surface ; the sun, they say, never sets upon their empu'e — which, modelled upon that of Venice, has all the craft, all the cruelty that characterized the pagan Roman empu*e — established by crooked counsels and dark politics — Satanic craft and perfidious scheming. Of this truth, the history of O'Connell afibrds flagrant instances. Letters were received by the Cathohc Boai'd, in 1813, from an agent of the EngHsh Catholics named Charles Butler, an able advocate of the iniquitous Veto. This man seems to have been the originator of a subtle scheme to damage and disgi-ace the L'ish CathoHcs. He asserted that sentences were forged, and foisted into his letters. The great ability which such Ii'ishmen as O'Connell manifested in the Board filled the grudging Enghsh with ill-concealed jealousy. They were anxious to tear fi'om Irish hands the management of Irish afi'au's. As Mr. Butler expressed it, *'I think the English Catholics should for once lead the way." *'I beheve, that some speeches in Ireland," he adds, " have disgusted our friends." Unable to obtain the leadership of Catholic affairs — unable to convince the Irish that they were asses, the English endeavoured to convince the world that they were rascals unworthy to manage Catholic affahs. "It has been said," observed Mr. Scully, 28th June, 1813, "that these letters had been interpolated since they came over from England. In that country there exists a faction whose gi'eat and darling object it is to disparage Ireland, the Catho- lics, and the Board — and with this faction I think the chai'ge originated ; for surely there could be no disparagement gi'eater than to say that the Catholic Board of Ireland had interpolated the letters of any man. I have examined the letters, and am satisfied that they contain no interpolation." Mr. Butler sent over what he termed genuine copies of his original letters. The seals of these genuine copies were broken by O'Connell and read aloud in the presence of the Boai'd. They 260 LIFE AND TIMES OF O CONNELL. tallied perfectly with the letters which were falsely alleged to be interpolated. In one of his letters this man had the audacity to censure the Irish prelates for "their rejection of all ar- rangements respecting themselves." With incomprehensible effrontery he denounced their resolutions as "very improper; not called for, calculated to disgust friends and fui'nish arms to enemies." The friends whom Butler alludes to were those lordly volunteers who enter the democratic camp in order to declare themselves " disgusted" when any step really service- able to the people is proposed. They were such men as Mr. Bellew and Lord Trimleston, whose real object was not to advance the freedom of the people, but to seduce, pervert, or betray. "About a year and a-half ago," wi'ote Mr. Butler, "one of our most steady and active friends in parliament desired me to prepare a sketch of an act of parliament to repeal every law in force against his majesty's Roman Catholic subjects in every part of the United Kingdom." This sketch, Mr. Butler went on to say, he transmitted to Mr. Scully. " Shortly after which I was called upon," adds Butler, " to prepare a general act for the purpose in question A short time subse- quently," he goes on to say, "a conversation between me and Lord Castlereagh took place. His lordship mentioned a com- munication between him and the Irish prelates. He said the business had gone so far that the amount of the salaries, and even the fund out of which they were to come, had been settled, with the full concurrence of the prelates. I understood from him that he had explained to them that he made them nothing like a promise respecting Catholic Emancipation. He denied the existence of any such promise to others, and he expressed himself on this in terms so explicit as surprised me a good deal. He stated this very extraordinary fact — that when he was requested to take part in Lord Sidmouth's administration he required as a preliminary that his promise respecting salarizing the CathoHc clergy should be performed, and that it was agreed to and understood that the king did not object to it on some future occasion. He understood fi'om the Irish bishops that in their opinion it would appear to the Irish people ungracious in them to accept a boon for themselves, if nothing was done for the body at large ; and that on this account they declined the promised boon. He seemed to think that this proceeding did them gi'eat honour." Mr. Scully, in replying to these letters, gave Mr. Butler some sound advice. He said, "I sti'ongly recommend Mr. Butler LIFE AND TIMES OF O CONNELL. 261 to discontinne his interviews with any members of the adminis- tration upon the affairs of the Irish Catholics. The Irish Ca- thoHcs were never so strong and never so unanimous or de- termined as at present." O'Connell said *' there was the most studied and marked neglect of the sentiments and opinions of the Irish CathoHcs dming the last session of parhament. Neglect ! it actually showed a contempt for the Catholics. See how the facts were. First, a bill purporting to be for their relief had been prepared in Dublin, under the auspices of Mr. Grattan, by three gentle- tlemen of the bar; but so far from any Catholic being con- sulted on that occasion, even the preparation of the bill here was for a time considered too important a secret to be con- fided to any Catholic whatsoever. It was our case that was to be brought before parliament, and yet the mode of re- lief was conceived to be beyond the reach of our understand- ings. The second instance of this disrespectful conduct was apparent in the treatment which our delegates received in London. Every communication with them was declined. So far were they from being consulted, that their offer of assistance was rejected — with civility to be sure, but very distinctly. The third proof of the low estimate which our parliamentaiy advo- cates formed of us was found in the fact, that whilst all the members of the Board and their delegates were disregarded, it appeared from Mr. Butler's letters, the English Catholics were not only consulted, but their advice and assistance were anxiously sought for and required by Mr. Grattan and our Other advocates. No man can be more sensible than I am of the splendid talents and more splendid patriotism of Mr. Grattan ; but a more humble friend ma}^ be more useful. It was impossible to emancipate the Catholics unless they were consulted upon the details. If Mr. Grattan would not con- descend to consult the Irish Catholics, they were bound to have their petition presented by a person who would enter into those details with them ; and much as I should regret the loss of even the name of Grattan, as the person who was actually to present our next petition, I cannot help saying that if some arrangement be not made with him, and some fixed manner of communicating our sentiments settled — if, in short, he is pleased again to reject all intercourse with us, it will be a painful, solemn duty to Ireland to consider whether it would not be more useful to our great cause to place our petition in the hands of some man who will cheerfully hold the requisite eommunication and intercourse. Such a man should certainly 262 LIFE AND TIMES OF O'CONNELL. have my humble vote and all the interest I can exert to secure his election, even though the rival candidate bore the illustri- ous name of Henry Grattan" (cheers). These remarks on Grattan vere characterized by Mr. Bagot as *' hasty." O'Connell said that his ''hastiness" consisted in believing Mr. Butler's statement — namely, that Mr. Grattan had called on Jiim to prepare the bill. Would it not have been better to have consulted an Irish barrister ? ** I repeat," said O'Connell, ''"^'hen Mr. Grattan was about to legislate for Irish Catholics, it would have been better to have consulted Irish- men rather than Englishmen. If he refused to do so, he had a perfect right to act as he pleased ; and so in their turn had the Irish Catholics. I Hke Mr. Grattan much — but I like Ire- land more." The selection of O'Connell by the bishops, in 1813, to pre- sent their lordship's address to the Catholic Board, proves that his conduct had merited their confidence, and evinces that they appreciated the sincerity of his religious professions. At that time the paschal duty was generally neglected by the Irish gentry. "You did not see more," said O'Connell, "than per- haps twenty male communicants in the year." Owing to this general negligence, he himself was negligent ; but his staunch sincerity, his firm devotedness to the faith was beyond the shadow of doubt. The religious opinions of O'Connell at this time were entirely at variance with those of Pope, who says ; '* For modes of faith let graceless zealots fight — His can't be wrong whose life is in the right." When a Protestant friend maintained in his presence, on one occasion, that errors in morality are worse than errors in faith — inasmuch as a man may believe wrong without knowing it ; but a man cannot so easily do wrong without knowing it — O'Con- nell contended that errors in faith were more dangerous. "Nothing short of a thorough and perfect sincerity — and moreover a cautious sincerity — can acquit the holder of erro- neous faith from the guilt of heresy. Of course," he added, "every person thus thoroughly and cautiously sincere is free from heretical guilt ; but those who belong not to the Catholic Chm-ch labour under the grievous disadvantage of being de- prived of true sacraments — or, in other words, they are deprived of those ordinary channels of grace and modes of reconciliation with God of which all stand in need, inasmuch as all have at one time or other sinned mortally. Even though a Catholic should have sinned more grievously than a person outside the LIFE AND TIMES OF O'CONNELL. 263 pale of tlie Church, yet the position of the former is in one respect better — namely, that he stands a better chance of ob- taining the grace of true repentance." On another occasion some one casually mentioned in his presence a Count Maceroni, who was spoken of as a scientific Neapolitan author of a paper detailing an experiment he had made in the art of flying. *'I dined once in the fellow's com- pany," said O'Connell. *' O'Meara asked me to meet him, but said, * I don't like to bring you together, for the fellow is a rampant infidel, and such an enthusiast in his infidelity that he always blurts out something ofiensiye.' *I don't care,' said I ; * ask him — I may do him some good.* So O'Meara asked Maceroni to dine, but stipulated that he should not give vent to any of his infidel notions. He was quiet enough for ten minutes or a quarter of an hour, but he then slapped ofl* some jests at Christianity. I looked up at him and said, * Count Maceroni, I am now enjoying an excellent dinner, and do not wish to be disturbed. If, however, you choose to resume the subject when we have dined, I shall be ready to meet you upon it.' The count said no more until we went to the di'awing-room — and then he renewed his attacks on Christianity. I said, * Do you believe in Julius Cffisar ?' * I do,' answered he. *Do you believe in Caligula ?' *I do.' * And you will not believe in Jesus Christ, although, looking on the matter as a merely his- torical question, the witnesses for Christianity are more nume- rous and unimpeachable than those for any mere historical fact whatsoever ?' I very soon lorced him to confess the historical fact of Christianity — and I then challenged him to show on what reasonable gi'ounds he could discredit the witnesses of our Saviour's death, his resm-rection, and, in short, the whole of the doctrines he came on earth to announce ; for these wit- nesses were eminently trustworthy, as being in the highest de- gree disinterested. They had nothing of a temporal natm-e to gain for their evidence — no honour, no rank, no riches, no luxu- ries ; on the contrary, lives of toil, persecution, and affliction — and they finally died the deaths of martyrs to seal the truth of their nan-atives. Could any rational man doubt such wit- nesses as these ? Yet such were the witnesses of Chiistianity. When the historical fact was once admitted, the divine cha- racter of the Christian religion must inevitably be received upon the self- same evidence. I promise you I never had a greater triumph than I enjoyed over my poor count. How I used to huiTah whenever I drove him to confess the absurdity of some infidel ca\il or other! I actually extorted an acknow- 264 LIFE AND TIMES OF o'CONNELL. ledgment from him that he had nothing to urge against my reasons ; and I sent him home the most unhappy and terrified •wretch breathing lest, after all his vaunting, there should really be a devil." O'Connell compared Martin Luther to Cobbett, whom, he said, the ex-Augustinian resembled much in the povrer and constitution of his mind. ^' Luther," said he, '' commenced his revolt from an eminence. Sprung from humble parents, his talents had raised him within one step of being superior of his friary. There is and has ever been that spuit of demo- cracy in the Catholic Church that gives to the son of the pea- sant and the son of the prince precisely similar advantages in all her monastic and ecclesiastical institutions. Talent and virtue will win the race, although combined wdth humble birth and opposed to distinguished descent unaccompanied by moral and intellectual merit. Luther's position in his monas- tery entitled him to sit at table with princes." O'Connell seemed to feel considerable pleasure in reciting the old Latin hymns of the Catholic Church. He did so fre- quently when travelling. His favourites seemed to be " Lauda Sion salvatorem, Lauda ducem et pastorem ;" and the noble hymn commencing with the words, " Stabat ^Mater dolorosa, Juxta crucem lachrymosa, Dum pendebat Filius." Comparing the cathedi'als of Catholic times with those erected since the Reformation, he observed: ''Westminster Abbey and St. Paul's afibrd us good specimens of this sort of contrast. The very architectm'e of the former seems to breathe the aspiring sentiment of Christianity ; but St. Paul's — it is a noble temple, to be sui'e ; but as for any peculiarity of Chris- tian character about itj it might just as well be a temple to Neptune." Many Protestants believe that Leshe's " Case Stated" is the ablest attack on the Catholic religion. This was the opinion of Dr, Johnson. He said to Boswell : *' Sir, Leslie was a reasoner indeed — and a reasoner who could not be reasoned against." Leslie's book was written in the form of a dialogue between a lord and a gentleman. The " gentleman" is a Pro- testant, and LesHe furnishes him with triumphant arguments. The "lord" is a Catholic, and Leslie furnishes him with very lame rejoinders — his lordship betrays the cause. The Kev, LIFE AND TIMES OP O'CONNELL. 265 Robert Manning wTote a reply to Leslie, which is very ingenious. He commenced by turning or scoring the Catholic lord out of the book — that is, Manning reprinted every line of Leslie's Pro- testant "gentleman," but substituted his own replies for those which Leshe had placed in the mouth of the CathoHc lord. *' Leslie," said O'Connell, "is exceedingly plausible and able in attacking Catholicity ; but although he professes to state the whole case, he does not even attempt to set up any affirmative case whatsoever for Protestantism. How exqui- sitely Manning demolishes his fallacious plausibilities. I sup- pose that in this book one finds the very strongest objections that can possibly be urged against the Catholic religion ; and how utterly futile and driftless they appear when the answers of Manning are read. Protestantism is, in fact, a mere nega- tion — a denial of certain truths announced by the Catholic Church." " A very unequal negation," observed a friend. " Of course it must be an unequal negation," returned O'Con- nell ; " since the amount of Protestantism in the minds of its different votaries depends on the exact quantity of truth that each man chooses to deny. It is, to be sure, a most curious delusion. It never would have made any head if Luther had not baited his trap with justification by faith alone. That was such a comfortable doctrine — so flattering to human cor- ruption — that a leader who promulgated it might safely reckon on a numerous following in his revolt." The conversation then turned on the utter incompetence of private judgment to retain a man in the path of faith — to pre- serve a Christian's belief in the doctrine of the Trinity. "The Socinians," observed his friend, " allege that if the Trinitarian doctrine be true, it is very strange that the word Tri- idly docs not once occur in the whole Bible." . " Oh, as to that," said O'Connell, " if the word Trinity were found in every page of the Bible, Socinian Protestants would not believe in the doctrine one whit more than they do at the present moment. They might get rid of it on the ordinary Protestant principles of interpretation ; they might deal with it as they do with the real presence in the Eucharist ; they might say that the word Trinity did not really mean a Trinity at ail- that it only meant something that was figuratively called a Trinity!" In the market-place of Armagh, in 1813, one of those Irish crosses covered with chiselled work, which awaken veneration in the Catholic and admiration in the antiquarian, raised its tall and 12 266 LIFE AND TIMES OF O CONNELL. time-honoured form. It was sheeted with hassi relievi, quaint and crowded — venerable patriarchs and canonized wgins — the scales of judgment massive and ample, and the cowering sin- ner withered and diminutive — the triumphal procession and the chariot of victory — the dexterous AttA, " His beard a yard before liim, and his hair A yard behind," standing aloft, and controlling the spanking horses which bear the victor to the eternal mansions. All this and much more, graven on the cross of St. Patrick, did not mitigate the ani- mosity mth which black bigots regarded the sj^mbol of salva- tion. The venerated relic of antiquity, which had stood for 700 years, was attacked by a group of linen-weavers on the 12th July, 1813. They hurled it on the earth, with gunpow- der blasted the pedestal, and converted the shaft into a trough in which to feed swine. In the same month in which they disgi'aced Aimagh by impious vandalism, they crimsoned Belfast with human blood. A band of armed Orangemen were revelling in a tavern in Belfast, when, in the midst of their orgies, they heard the crash of broken glass in the front of the house. Starting up from the table, the drunken fanatics rushed with loaded muskets into the open streets, and fired upon the passers-by. Three men fell, writhing and bleeding on the ground before them : one re- ceived a ball in the thigh, and subsequently sufiered amputa- tion of the limb ; a second was mortally wounded, and died the next morning at one o'clock ; the third, named Hugh Graham, was shot dead on the spot. It is unnecessar}- to say that the guilty Orangemen v/ere tried and acquitted, while innocent Ca- tholics — who narrowly escaped assassination — were, as usual, convicted and punished. The Orange sign, passed from the felon at the bar to his hretliren in the jury-box — conjured up the demon of party in the jurors' breasts, and justice was scouted out of court. linowing that the infliction of cruelty was not the exclusive object of the linen lords — that they longed to rouse revenge, provoke resistance, and find opportunity^ for carnage, the Catholic Board issued an address to the Catholic population, which startled the country by stating that a new danger im- pended over Ireland. " The object of your enemies," it said, "is to ii'ritate the passions of the people, and betray them to destruction by awaking their resentments. In their restless desperation they seek to provoke or to seduce the Catholic LIFE AND TIMES OF o'CONNELL. 267 body to violence or insurrection. Local agents are busy — prowling emissaries are abroad. These miscreants resort to the meetings, the clubs and public places — insinuate them- selves into public confidence by counterfeit zeal, by daiing language, by ajOfected warmth, and tender concern for the suf- ferings of the people. They suggest secret oaths, propose illegal associations, circulate wild and improbable mmours of plots and conspiracies, recommend and predict rash and ruinous hostilities. A deep and diabolical plot is in actual progress, constructed not merely for defeating Catholic free- dom, but for involving our beloved country in massacre, de- solation, and ruin. The Board entreats the people, as they value their families, their country, and theu' religion, to shun the vile instruments of that neforious policy, and beware of their fatal snares and seductions." "Alas! for poor Ireland!" said O'Connell on 29th June, 1813, speaking with reference to this address. *'Her liberties depend upon the prudence of a people of the most inflamma- ble passions, goaded almost to madness on the one hand by Orange insults, and exposed at the same time to the secret seductions of the agents and emissaries of those very Orange oppressors. Do you wish to gratify the Orangemen ? If you do, the way is before you. You have only to enter into some illegal or traitorous association — you have only to break out into turbulence or violence, and the Orangemen will be de- lighted, because it will afford them the wished-for opportunity of revelling in your blood. Do you desire to afflict and dis- gust your fiiends ? If you do, the way is open to you. You need only form illegal or seditious societies. You have only to commit some outrages against the public peace, and your friends must abandon your cause in disgust and abhorrence. In short, your enemies are on the alert. They throw out the language of ii-ritation, and adopt every measm-e of oppression to goad you to a violation of the law. But it does not rest there. They send round then- agents with money and with pardon for their agency, to preach in private circles the doc- trine of insurrection, to form secret knots and associations, to seduce you into crime — and then betray you. These mis- creants endeavour to obtain youi' confidence that they may sell your lives. In the meantime, the Orangemen stand to their arms ready prepared — primed and loaded ; they stand with the triangle and the gibbet to torture, to plunder, and to mas- sacre." The apprehensions O'Connell expressed, the Orangemen soon 268 LIFE AND TIMES OF O CONNELL. realised. On the 12tli July, 1813, the statue of William III., in College-green, was seen waving with the flaring garniture of party — flaunting in gaudy drapery and fluttering with orange ribbons ; while green shamrocks, strewn ignominiously under the upraised hoof of the pawing charger, indicated the downfall of the nation sj^mbolised by the "triple leaf," and maddened popular irritation into fury. In the morning, the statue was blazing with radiant hues — the Orangemen paraded round it with arms, shouts, and discharges of fire-arms ; in the evening, the statue was pelted with mud by the infuriated populace, and subjected to an incessant shower of ordure, which gradually bedabbled it with patches of filth, and rendered it before night foul and grim — hideous and even horrible. The Orangemen, it must be admitted, owing to the ignorance and degradation in wdiich they were sunk, should not be con- sidered as accountable in these cases. The Protestant aristo- cracy who urged them on, and who were leagued secretly vrith the Catholic aristocracy, should be regarded as the real cri- minals. At the Catholic meetings (1813) the aristocratic party that fostered the spirit of religious indifierence, of crawling caution, and grovelling compromise, received its death-blow. It may have wriggled a little afterwards, but the shout which shook the building when O'Connell thanked Dr. Milner, was mortal to its reptile nature. It gasped out its poisonous life in en- vious terror at that thunderous vociferation. At least, it never raised its head boldly to cackle out its small and contorted sophistries at those Catholic gatherings again. The crawling aristocracy were struck dumb by the unexpected discovery that the Irish heart was unalterably sound and profoundly Catholic. They slunk away at this painful discovery, like creatm'es of night from the efiulgent splendour of the day. All their distinctions, their shifts, their evasions, their subter- fuges, their crafty tricks, their adjournments, and previous ques- tions, and orders of the day, proved unavailing. In taking leave of the Catholic aristocracy v.'ho, in 1813, retreated from the constitutional struggle for civil liberty be- cause Grattan's bill was scouted by the Board, we shall — mth the reader's permission — glance for a moment at the cause of the perverse impracticability which rendered them an embar- rassing drag-chain vexatiously retarding Catholic progress. The cause is to be found in the gross ignorance which incapacitated them for political exertion. The son of the peer, trained in the wooded solitudes of his remote estate to pui'sue game, LIFE AND TIMES OF o'CONNEI.Lc 269 was less enliglitened, less intellectually developed, than the son of the citizen, trained to pursue trade in the busy thorough- fares of a crowded town. The young citizen was qualified for *' freedom's battle" by the intelligence which was, in his colli- sion with men, necessarily struck out ; while the young peer who vegetated in a dozing, dreaming, Lethean state of half- consciousness in the country, was qualified for the fetters of the government. When the two came together they could not harmonize. Perhaps the Catholic peer, at the time when the Catholic cause was in its infancy, was the veriest slave under the British crown. The Catholic farmer could vote for a parlia- mentary candidate when the Catholic peer was destitute of tho elective franchise. Thus his lordship's political education was not only neglected — it never commenced. He had no mcentive to study liberal politics — he was neither eligible as candidate nor constituent, elector or elected. This was the state of the Ca- tholic peer when the first links were struck off Catholic chains — when in 1777 the privilege was granted to Catholics of taking long leases of land. At that time two men entirely destitute of aristocratic dignity, but gifted with great courage and high in- telligence. Dr. O'Connor of Ballinagare — "the man who never told a lie" — and Dr. Currie, the author of the " History of the Civil Wars in Ireland," were the champions and agitators of the Catholic cause. At that time, too, the influence of Lord Trimleston and some of his brethren in the peerage was indus- triously exerted to thwart and paralyse the beneficent exertions ofDrs. Currie and O'Connor. The Catholic aristocracy then as ever were found obstinately opposed to those bold proceed- ings which contributed to lighten or break the chains of the Catholics. This was not attributable exclusively to the pre- judices of class — it was attributable to isolation from human converse, the solitude in which the peer was entombed —it ori- ginated in the penal laws, which shut him up in his castle and shut him out from the world. Generally educated abroad, the solitary peer of course spoke French, or Spanish, or German, without having an opportunity ol thoroughly mastering English ; and from these two languages, blended with some Irish, he formed a conglomerate tongue — a piebald medley of three dia- lects. It is no exaggeration to say that a Catholic peer and an officer of the Irish Brigade spoke a jargon unintelligible to the rest of mankind — more hilinguis Canusini ; and this extra- ordinary language was one of the extraordinary productions of the penal code. The Catholic peer was too proud to mingle with the peasantry, and the Protestant aristocracy were too pre- 270 LIFE AND TIMES OP O'CONNELL. judiced to associate with him. His brother peer of the Estab- lished Cburch passed him silentl}^ on the road with a high protective bow. The Catholic lord and the parish priest were sometimes asked to dinner, especially before Lady Day, that the tenants might be in good humour when the rent was col- lecting — or when the brother of the Catholic peer happened to be on a visit from the Continent, and the young Protestant ladies were sohcitous to see the tall cap or the hussar uniform, the long sword or the brilliant cross of St. Louis or Maria Theresa, sparkling on the breast of the Catholic count in the military service of some despotic power. In the " Reminiscences of Michael Kelly," he describes an officer of the Irish Brigade in a graphic manner, truly il- lustrative of what v,'Q allude to.. "Walking on the Parade the second morning of my arrival in Cork, Mr. Townsend of the Correspondent newspaper pointed out a very fine-looking elderly gentleman standing at the club-house door, and told mo that he was one of the most eccentric men in the world. His name was O'Reilly ; he had served many years in the Irish Brigade in Germany and Prussia, where he had been distin- guished as an excellent officer. Mr. Townsend added : ' We reckon him here a great epicure, and he piques himself on being a great judge of the culinary art as well as of wines. His good natm'e and pleasantry have introduced him to the best society — particularly among the Roman Catholics, where he is always a welcome guest. He speaks French, Ger- man, and Italian, and constantly, while speaking English with a determined Irish brogue, mixes all those languages in every sentence. It is immaterial to him whether the person he is talking to understand him or not — on he goes, stop him who can.' " I was presented to him," continues Kelly, " and no sooner had the noble captain shaken me by the hand than he exclaim- ed: ^ Bon jour, mon cherMick! Je sids Men aise cle vousvoir, as we say in France. An hhfhuil tu go maitli. J'etoisfacJic that I missed meeting you when I was last in Dublin ; but I was obliged to go to the county Galway to see a brother officer who formerly served with me in Germany — as herlich ein kerl, as we say in Germany, as ever smelt gunpowder. Dcdr mo laimh — it est brave comme son epee, as fearless as his sword. Now tell me how go on your brother Joe and your brother Mark ; your brother Pat, poor fellow, lost his life, I know, in the East Indies — ^but c'est la fortune cle la guerre, and he died avec Vhonneur. Your sister M%ry, too — how is she ? Dair a marreann; by my word LIFE AND TIMES OF O'CONNELL. 271 she is as good a hearted kind creature as ever lived ; but, entre nous, soli (lit — she is rather plain, ma non e Idla, quel die bella, e hella quel die inace, as we say in Italian.' *' 'Now captain,' said Kelly, 'after the llattering encomiums you have bestowed on my sister's beauty, may I ask how you became so well acquainted with my family concerns?" " ' Parhleu ! my dear Mick,' said the captain, ' well I may be, for sure your mother and my mother were sisters.' "On comparing notes," adds Kelly, ''I found that such was the fact. When I was a boy, and before I left Dublin for Italy, I remember my mother often mentioning a nephew of her's of the name of O'Reilly, who had been sent to Germany when quite a lad — many years before — to a relative of his father who was in the Irish Brigade at Prague. Young O'Reilly entered the regiment as a cadet ; he aftervrards went into the Prussian service ; but mymother heard no more of him. The captain told me furthermore that he had been cheated some years before out of a small property which his father left him in the county Meath, by a man whom he thought his best friend. ' However,' said the captain, ' I had my satisfaction by calling him out and putting a bullet through his hat ; but, nevertheless, all the little property that was left me is gone. But, grace au del, I have never sullied my reputation nor injured mortal, and for that " the gods will take care of Cato." In all my misfortunes, cousin, I have never parted with the family sword, which was never drawn in a dirty cause ; and there it hangs now in a little cabin which I have got in the county Meath. Should ever Freddy Jones discard me, I will end my days in risposo e loace with the whole universal world.' " The Frederick Jones mentioned by the captain was proprie- tor of Crow-street theatre. Jones took such a liking to him the first day he came to dine with him, that O'Reilly became his confidant and deputy-manager for life. • One day, the captain was in the streets of Clonmel when the Tipperary militia was marching out of town. Their colonel's father had formerly been a miller and amassed a large fortune, which he bequeathed to the colonel himself. O'Reilly eyed the half-drilled militia and their swaggering but unsoldier-like colonel with the critical scrutiny of a veteran, and then ex- claimed: " By the god of war, here comes Marshal Sacks and the flour of Tipperary at his back !" Great as was unquestionably the merits of such men as sol- diers abroad, they invariably proved blundering politicians at 272 LIFE AND TIMES OF o'CONNELL. home. Their politics were as eccentric as their dialect. The manner in which Wolfe Tone speaks of the officers of the Irish Brigade — who still lingered in France whilst he w^as negotiating with the French government to relieve his country from op- pression — shows the irreconcileable difierence which grew up between the mind of the exile wdio battled for despotism abroad and the patriot who struggled for libert}^ at home. Chevalier McCarthy, whom we have alluded to in page 158, was a speci- men of this class. The Catholic cause was not advanced by these men, nor by their kinsmen or brothers, the Catholic peers. The talent and courage, the manliness and wisdom of O'Con- nor and Currie produced the long leases, which was the fii'st step on the road to liberty. Dr. O'Connor prevailed on Brooke, the Protestant author of" Gustavus Vasa," to write the celebrated letters w^hich contributed to procure that relaxation. Brooke supplied the letters ; Lord, the printer, published them. The Catholic aristocracy would not muster money enough to com- pensate Lord. Where was the patriotism of the Catholic aris- tocracy then ? Charles O'Connor succoured Brooke — the mer- chants of Dublin contributed money to pay him ; the Catholic aristocracy actually refused to subscribe. The services of this printer, named Lord, and of John Keogh, a Dublin mercer, outweighed the public services of all the ancestry of the Catho- lic nobility fi'om the time of Strongbow to the days of Daniel O'Connell — that Catholic nobility, we mean, who, because they could not prevail on the people to accept the vetoistical Relief Bill of 1813, abandoned the Catholic Board. In the year 1813, the Catholics were divided into two par- ties — those opposed to the Veto, and those favourable to it. The truth is, the anxiety for Emancipation was so intense amongst the aristocratic Catholics, they w^ere highly indignant that a mere question of disciiolbw, as they called it, should im- pede a settlement. "Emancipation should not be delayed," said Wolie — " not for a single moment. Would I protract in the bosom of the high-minded Catholic the indignant glow of unmerited degradation — that burning sense which he experi- ences when, like the fettered eagle, he eyes the region for which nature had created him, and sees some kindred bird soaring in its fulness. Forgetting his captivity, he springs up- ward in his strength, and no sooner reaches the extremity of his chain than he is dashed back by its re\Tilsion." " In no part of Ii'eland," says Fagan, " were the two parties SO violent and determined in opposition to each other as in Cork. There was in that city, as in other parts of Ireland, a LIFE AND TBIES OF O'CONNELL. 273 local Catholic Board ; and it consisted of the Catholic aristo- cracy and merchaots of the city and neighbourhood. Its pro- ceedings were neither open to the public nor the press. The people were not admitted, and the Board, as a matter of course, was very genteel and very unpopular. After the defeat of Grattan's bill, the Board, following the example of the rest of Ii'eland, called an aggregate meeting. The meeting was held at the Lancasterian schools, and as might have been expected was attended by the people in great crowds. As a good place was valuable, every one went early except the "nobs" — that is, the Board, who, of course, as they were to be the prominent actors in the scene, thought there was no danger of seats not being carefuUy provided for them. But neither their personal convenience nor their judgment was consulted. In their ab- sence the popular party carried a series of important resolu- tions. In one of them they refused to accept any but uncon- ditional Emancipation, and spurned the Veto; in another they voted thanks to O'Connell ; in a third, to the bishops and to Dr. Milner. The number of the resolutions was seventeen. O'Connell attended, and was the moving spirit of the day. The exclusive Catholic Board, at whose instance the meeting was convened, finding that they could not stem the tide of opinion which set in against their vetoistical views, adjourned to a build- ing on the opposite side of the roadway, and were about to hold a meeting of their own when O'Connell came in upon them, followed by the people, and soon put an end to their mock proceedings. The gentlemen, annoyed that the people should dare have a voice in the matter, adjourned to the Bush tavern, and drew up a protest against the proceedings and resolu- tions of the aggi'egate meeting, as being highly injurious to the Catholic cause. The parties, many of whom are still living, by whom those resolutions were adopted, incurred in conse- quence a particular designation — being known long after by the title of -'Protesters." Not content with their ioolish pro- test, they held another meeting, over which Alexander O'Dris- coll, Esq., of Clover Hill, presided, and at which it was re- solved : ' That adopting the wise principle of the constitution, by which j^^'op^^'^U '^ '^'>i-<-ide the ataadard of opinion, we found it impossible, at the late aggregate meeting, amidst the tumult of the lowest populace, ignonrnt of necessity and misled by design, to ascertain the sense of the Catholics of this city and county.' " Nothing can better illustrate the state of society in Ireland in those days than these absurd proceedings Mr. O'Connell 274 LIFE AND TIMES OF O'CONNELL, threw liimseli, heart and soul, into the ranks of the people, and the "Protesters" were fauiy extinguished. How was it possi- ble for persons, resolving in the sphit of the above resolution, to obtain freedom ? Who will assert they even deserved it ? It was this ridiculous superciliousness on the part of the Ca- tholic gentry that, for years and years, retarded the cause; and it was not until O'Connell, spurning their timidity and scorning their pride, boldly rode the whirlwind and directed the storm, that moral and religious liberty was at length achieved. During O'ConnclFs childhood, the American war of inde- pendence was, as we have said in page 19, raging over land and sea. During the year 1813, he saw Britain plunged into a second American vrar. And, as when living at Valentia he gazed, with all his little being in his eyes, at an American privateer cruising ominously off the coast of Kerry, so in 1813, when li\dng in Dublin, he saw an American frigate cruising thi-eateningly in the vicinity of Dublin Bay. The emotions of early childhood as he v\^atched the war ships of Paul Jones, were renewed in the X5rime of manhood as he saw looming in the distance another American cruiser, commanded by another daring rover. The republican brig An/us, in 1813, scoured the Channel, and spread alarm in Dublin by carrying the war into the very Bay, where the Argus captured English mer- chantmen, plundered, scuttled, and set them on fii'e almost in the sight of the citizens, and- scared commerce from the Irish coast as a falcon banishes pigeons. From fifteen to twenty English ships were treated in this manner, in open defiance of England, and within a few miles of the metropolis. After filling Dublin with rumom-, hubbub, and alarm, the bold cruiser sailed quietly down in a sublime solitude to Wexford, where, after a few days' buccaneering, in the early dawn of a morning in August, she spied a British man-of-war, the Pelicnn, bearing down upon her. The encounter of these two ships was a terrible one. The roar of cannon, the shouts of the combatants, the screams of the wounded, the fmy of the struggle, were long remembered by the scared fishermen of the coast. The fight took place off Tuscar rock, and lasted forty-five minutes. The Americans fought admirably, and made a desperate and gallant defence against overwhelming odds. The captain's leg was swept off by a cannon ball, and he was flung pale and helpless on the deck in a pool of his own blood. The ofiicers — particularly the first lieutenant — were all covered with wounds and torn with shot. The fury with which they fought, animated by their LIFE AND TIMES OF O CONNELL. 276 deadly hatred of their English adversaries, is evinced by the fact that out of 130 men who constituted the crew, 25 were killed and many more wounded. The clock of the Post Office in Dublin was chiming a quarter to six on the morning ol the 14th August, 1813, as the Argus was boarded and taken by the Pelican. She was towed away to Plymouth harbour, her masts splintered, her shrouds torn, her bulwarks stove in, her decks slippery -with blood, and her men in irons. One of the complaints which the English directed against O'Connell and the Catholic Board was connected with such fights as the preceding. O'Connell was accustomed to assert that it was not the English — it was the Iiish who merited the renown of these victories, as the main body of the crew con- sisted of Irishmen. The Annual Begister expressly complains that "the Irish were often told they alone achieved every triumph of English arms ; and because the frigate which took the Chesapeake; Vv'as named from an Irish river, it was an- nounced that the men came from the banks of the Shannon." This is an error — the Irish did not claim the laurel for so foolish a reason : it vras not the name of the ship — it was the Irish names of the killed and wounded which taught O'Con- nell to assert that Britain was indebted for that naval victory to Irish valour. To vindicate the rights and the renown of his countrymen was the great mission of O'Connell, and he would deem it a derehction of duty if he lost an opportunity of doing so. This might be a crime in the eyes of the churlish English ; but it certainly endeared O'Connell to the hearts of the generous Irish. "In the last war," said Grattan, referring in 1792 to the first American contest, " of 80,000 seamen, 50,000 were Irish names ; in Chelsea, near one-tbiid of the pensioners were Irish names; in some of the men-of-war nearly the whole comple- ment were Irish." In 1810, Sir John Cox Hippesley, in a remarkable speech, asserted that in the year 1780, "when fewer Catholics entered the service (than in 1810), the crewot the Thunderer, 74 guns, was composed two-thirds of Catho- lics," or Iiish. " The British navy," says Sir Jonah Barring- ton, "was then (1782) manned by w^hat wore generally deno- minated British tars ; but a large proportion of whom were in fact sailors of Irish bu'th and Irish feelings, ready to shed their blood in the service of great Britain whilst she remained the friend of Ireland ; but as ready to seize and steer the Briti^^h navy into Irish ports should she declare against their country. The mutiny at the Nore," he adds, "confirms these observa- 276 LIFE AND TIMES OF O GONNELL. tions. Had the mutineers at tloat time chosen to carry the British ships into an Irish port, no power could have prevented them ; and had there heen a strong insurrection in Ireland, it is more than probable they would have delivered more than one half of the English fleet into the hands of their country- men." On the 17th October, 1796, Grattan asserted that without the Irish Catholics the British navy could not keep the sea. **What is the British 'navy ?" he exclaims. "A number of planks ? Certainly not. No ; but a number of British and Irish. Transfer," says he, "the Irish seamen to the French, and where is the British navy?" Wolfe Tone, in 1796, says : '' Let it never be forgotten that two-thirds of the British seamen, as they are called, are in fact Irishmen." *'Is it not," asked Mr. Foster in parHament, alluding, in 1805, to the conduct of the Irish troops in Egypt — "is it not also proclaimed to the glory of that people, that the gallant Nelson was greatly indebted to their valour in the hour of dan- ger, for the conquest he obtained over the fleet of the enemy on the coast of that country." Sir John Hippesley in the valuable parliamentary speech already adverted to, said (1810) that out of a list in his hand of 46 ships of the line, which at two different periods belonged to the Plymouth division, the Catholics greatly exceeded the Protestants in the majority of the vessels. In some of the first and second rates they formed nearl}^ the whole ; and in the naval hospital, about four years before, out of 476 sailors, no less than 363 were Catholics. In order to make the British navy invincible, it was only necessary, according to Lord Col- lingwood, to draft into it 5,000 Irish boys every year. If we suppose his lordship's suggestion acted upon every year from 1808 till the peace in 1814, Ireland, in addition to her previous numbers, would have contributed 35,000 to the British navy — a circumstance which accounts for th victory, in 1813, of the Shannoii over the Chesapeake.* There were few subjects on which O'Connell in private life conversed with more apparent satisfection than his adventures when going circuit, and the inns at which he put up. " In 1780," said O'Connell, "the two members for the county Kerry, when preparing to visit Dublin, sent to the metropolis for a noddy. The noddy took eight days to get to Kerry, and they, when seated in it, took seventeen days to get to Dub- lin ! Each night the two members, owing to the absence of inns, quartered themselves at the house of some friend ; and * "The Green Book," by J. C. O'Callaghan. LIFE AND TIMES OF O'CONNELL. 277 on the seventeenth day, they reached Diiblm just in time for the commencement of the session." There were then (1780) no post-horses nor carriages, consequent!}^ very little travelling in Ireland ; and if there had been, tne ruts and holes would have rendered thirty miles a- day a good journey. Every Enghsh •writer on Ireland found then in Irish inns inexhaustible mate- rials for censure and ridicule. Their faults were to be found in slovenHness, bad meat, worse cookery, and — save the po- tato — few vegetables. There was, nevertheless, plenty of some- thing or other always to be had to assuage hunger and thirst — abundance of fine eggs, smoked bacon, and often excellent chickens. They generally had capital claret, and always plenty of civility. The poor people, it was admitted, did theii' best to entertain their guest, but had neither furniture, nor money, nor credit, nor cattle, nor customers enough to keep things going well together. In 1813, the inns on the principal roads had greatly improved, and O'Connell in after life loved to recur to the social evening, after the long day's journey, at the blazing fire of the snug inn parlour — a fire pecuharly welcome when the night was cold, raw, and gusty outside. Speaking of the inn at Millstreet, he said : " The improved roads have injured that inn. I well remember when it was the regular end of the first day's journey from Tralee. It was a comfortable thing for a social pair of fellow-travellers to get out of their chaise at night-fall, and to find at the inn (it was then kept by a cousin of mine, a Mrs. Cotter) a roaring fire in a clean, well-furnished parlour, the whitest table-linen, the best beef, the sweetest and tenderest mutton, the fattest fowl, the most excellent wines (claret and madeira were the high wines there — they knew no- thing about champagne), and the most comfortable beds. In my early days it was by far the best inn in Munster. But the new roads enable travellers to get far beyond Millstreet in a day ; and the inn, being therefore less frequented than of old, is of course not so well looked after by its present proprietor." The attributes of the inns which dotted the roads traversed by O'Connell in going circuit were very different. Some were famous for their breakfasts, some for their dinners, and some for their excellent wines. '' There was the Coach and Horses inn at Assolas, in the county Clare, close to the bridge," said O'Connell. ' ' AVhat delicious claret they had there ! It is levelled with the ground these many years. Then, there was that inn at Maryborough ; how often have I seen the old trooper who kept it, smoking his pipe on the stone bench at the door, and his fat old wife sitting opposite him. They kei)t a right good 278 LIFE AND TIMES OF O'CONNELL. house. She inherited the inn from her father and mother, and was early trained up to the business. She was an only child and had displeased her parents by a run-away match with a private dragoon. However, they soon relented and received her and her husband into favour The worthy trooper took charge of the stable department, for which his habits well adapted him ; and the in-door buisness vras admirably managed by his wife. Then, there was that inn at Naas, most comfort- ably kept — and excellent wine. I remember stopping to dine there one day posting up from the Limerick assizes. There ?7ere three of us in the chaise and one was tipsy ; his eyes were bloodshot and his features swollen from hard drinking on the previous night, besides which he had tippled a little in the morn- ing. As he got out of the chaise, I called him ' Parson !' to the evident delight of a Methodist preacher, who was haranguing a crowd in the street, and who deemed his own merits enhanced by the contrast with a sottish minister of the Establishment." O'Connell's conversation in these journeys was very interest- ing. Approaching from xishbourne to Dublin, on one occasion, some objects of antiquity which Grose had illustrated recalled that antiquary to the Liberator's mind. " Grose," said he, ''came to Ireland full of strong prejudices against the people, but they gave way beneath the influence of Irish drollery. He was very much teazed, when walking through the Dublin mar- kets, by the butchers besetting him for his custom. At last he got angry, and told them all to go about their business ; when a sly, waggish butcher, deliberately survejdng Grose's fat, ruddy face and coi-pulent person, said to him, 'Well,plaze your honour, I won't ask you to buy since it puts your honour in a passion. But I'll tell you how you'll sarve me ?' ' How '?' inquired Grose in a gru^' growl. 'Just tell ail your friends that its Larry Heiiernan that supplies your honour with mate, and never fear I'll have custom enough.' " O'Connell said that on one occasion he had a narrow escape of committing homicide about five miles from Nenagh. " I was very near being a guilty wretch there," said he, indicating the spot as he passed it. " Some years ago, when this neigh- bourhood was much infested with robbers, I was travelling on circuit. My horses were not veiy good and just at this spot I saw a man whose movements excited my suspicions. He slowly crossed the road, about twenty yards in advance of my carriage, and awaited my approach with his back against the wall and his hand in the breast of his coat, as if ready to draw a pistol. I felt certain I should be attacked — so I held LIFE AND TIMES OP O CONNELL. 279 my pistol ready to fire, its barrel resting on the carriage door. The man did not stir — and so escaped. Had he but raised his hand, I should have fired. Good God ! what a miserable, guilty ^Yl•etch I should have been ! How sincerely I thank God ior my escape from such guilt !" In the August of 1813, O'Connell visited Limerick. "WTiile professionally engaged in the county court-house of that town, a warm altercation sprang up between himself and Counsellor Magrath, which resulted in an exchange of cards. The par- ties met in a field adjoining the old windmill — well known in Limerick as a frequent scene of afiairs of honour. On this occasion O'Connell's second was Nicholas P. O'Gorman ; Mr. Magrath's was a Mr. Bennett. When the parties alighted from their carriages, they arranged themselves in two distinct groups, and waited until the ground which should separate the combatants was measured, or "stepped" — a task, by mutual consent, confided to Mr. Bennett. O'Connell and Magrath had been led to their respective positions. They were waiting for the word of command, when they were inter- rupted by a number of gentlemen, mutual friends, who, ar- riving on the ground, insisted on interfering. A long con- versation ensued between the seconds and these gentlemen. It was finally arranged that Magrath, standing on his fighting- place pistol in hand, should declare aloud that he lamented the past and was sorry for what had occurred. Before this was assented to, a Mr. Leader requested that, as O'Connell was v/ell known to cherish no ill-feeling towards Magrath, he should say, standing in his fighting-place pistof in hand, that he was going to fight a man against whom he entertained no enmity. This proposal produced a long pause. An ani- mated conversation ensued between the friends and seconds of both parties. Finally, at the earnest entreaty of mutual acquaintances, Nicholas P. O'Gorman assented to the arrange- ment. The two combatants then stepping forvrard, took their places a second time with loaded pistols in their hands. Magrath, raising his voice, declared that he was sorry for what had occurred — O'Connell, in a loud tone, averred that he entertained no enmity to Magrath. Advancing at the same moment, the two combatants, amid the acclamations and rejoicings of all present, warmly shook hands. They then entered the same carriage, and, conversing cheerfully on passing events, rolled into the city together. So great was the esteem in which both these gentlemen were held that a deep interest was awakened in Limerick by the afiair, and 280 LIFE AND TIMES OF o'CONNELL. heartfelt congi'atulations were everj-where warmly expressed that it had ended as it did — to the honour of all parties. Our readers have doubtless heard of the American lawyer whose cHent was charged with the illegal appropriation of a kettle. The lawj^er pleaded as three counts in his case — first, that the kettle was cracked when borrovN'ed ; second, that it was whole when returned ; and third, that it was never bor- rowed. In this case, as in all others, the counts in a lawyer's pleadings resemble the barrels of a revolver pistol. Precisely as you bring round the barrel of a revolver and level it at your enemy, the lawyer brings round his count and levels it at his opponent. If the first count miss fu'e, the second count is brought round again, and aimed again at the enemy. In this way count after count is successively levelled and discharged. If any one of these discharges takes efiect, the combatant is overthrown, and driven, wounded and bleeding, out of court. The ability of O'Connell in this species of practice was match- less. A single fact will demonstrate the confidence which the Irish public placed at this period in the professional abilities of O'Connell. In the autumnal assizes of 1813, twenty-six cases were tried in the Limerick record court. In every one of these O'Connell held a brief. He was likewise retained in every criminal case tried in the same city. His professional career was equally triumphant and extraordinary in the autumn assizes of Ennis. AVhile in Cork, and his native province, Kerry, it was, that year, if possible, exceeded. At this golden period of his life, his prosperity, flowing from his brilliant abilities, and his popularity, springing fi'om his country's grati- tude, rendered his position at the bar in the highest degree enviable. His brief-bag was a ponderous load ; and as few possessed the learning to note his briefs as he did, so few pos- sessed the strength to carrj^ that prodigious wallet of litigation with the ease which he manifested when cleaving his way through the crowds which congregated round the assize court, and to whom he was always an object of intense curiosity. — Wherever the ''Counsellor" appeared, there also would the anxious groups collect to cheer him and observe him as he passed out, linked and in conversation with some assize fiiend or brother barrister. O'Connell derived from his fordusic victo- ries a degree of confidence which rendered it impossible to brook patiently the political degradation m which he was plunged as a Catholic. He was such a king in the courts of law and on the public platform, that he could not be the ac- LIFE AND TIMES OF O'CONNELL. 281 quiescent subject of unmerited inferiority. But if, in as- sailing the aristocracy and bearding the judges, he showed daring courage or haughty arrogance, he likewise exhibited the most tender compassion for the poor and oppressed, as the following case testifies : On Tuesday, 25th May, 1813, O'Con- nell, in the court of common pleas moved for a conditional order against the Rev. James Hamilton for illegal and oppres- sive conduct as a magistrate of the county of Tipperary, and in addressing the presiding judge said : " The facts of the case are really curious and would be merely ludicrous but for the sufferings inflicted on my client. The affidavits stated that a peasant girl named Hennessey had a hen which laid — not golden eggs — but eggs strangely marked with red lines and figures. She, on the 21st April, 1813, brought her hen and eggs to the town of Roscrea, near which she lived, and of ■which the defendant was the Protestant curate. It appeared by the result that she brought her eggs to a bad market, though at first she had some reason to think differently ; for the cm'iosity excited by those eggs attracted some attention to the owner — and as she was the child of parents who were miserably poor, her wardrobe was in such a state that she might almost literally be said to be clothed in nakedness. My lord, a small subscription to buy her a petticoat was suggested by the person who makes the present affidavit, himself a work- ing weaver of the town, James Mui-phy — and the sum of fifteen shillings was speedily collected. It was a little fortune to the poor creature — she kissed her hen, thanked her benefactors, and with a light heart started on her return home. But, cliis aliter visum — at the moment two constables arrived with a warrant signed by the Rev. William Hamilton. This warrant charged her with the strange 'oflence of a foul imposition. It would appear as if it were issued in some wretched jest arising from the sound not the sense. But it proved no joke to the girl, for she was arrested. Her hen, her eggs, and her fifteen shillings were taken into custody and carried before his wor- ship. He was not at leisure to try the case that day. The girl was committed to Bridewell, where she lay a close prisoner for twenty-four hours, when his Rev. Worship was pleased to dispose of the matter. Without the mockery of any trial, he proceeded at once to sentence. He sentenced the girl to per- petual banishment fi'om Roscrea. He sent her out of the town guarded by three constables — and with positive injunctions never to set foot in it again. He decapitated her hen with his own sacred hands. He broke the eggs and confiscated the LIFE AND TIMES OP O CONNELL. fifteen shillings. When the girl retunied to her home — the fowl dead, the eggs broken, and the fifteen shillings in his reverence's pocket, one would suppose justice quite satisfied. But no, his worship discovered that Murphy had collected the ofi'ending money ; he was therefore to be punished. He was, indeed, first tried — but under what lavv think you ? Why, literally, my lords, under the statute of good manners. Yes, under that act, wherever it is to be found, was Murphy tried, convicted, and sentenced. He was committed to Bridewell where he lay for three days. The committal states " that he was charged on oath with having assisted in a foul imposition on public credulity — contrary to good manners." These are the words of the committal ; and he was ordered to be detained until he should give security — " for his good behaviour." Such is the ridiculous warrant on which an humble man has been deprived of his liberty for throe days. Such are the de- tails given of the vexatious proceedings of the reverend magis- trate. It was to be hoped that those details would turn out to be imaginary ; but they are sworn to — positively sworn to, and require investigation — the more especially as motives of a highly culpable nature were attributed — he (O'Connell) hoped untruly attributed — to the gentleman. He was charged on oath with having been actuated by malice towards this wTetched girl because she was a Catholic. It was sworn that his object was to establish some charge of superstition against her, upon no better ground than this — that one of those eggs had a mark on it nearly resembling a cross." The court granted the rule applied for; but the Rev. Mr. Hamilton, scandahsed and terrified by this exposure, privatel}' compromised the af- fair by making compensation to the young and guiltless com- plainant. The most popular paper in Ireland, in 1813, was the Bv.hlin Evening Post. This popularity is in some degTee evinced by a story which O'Connell used to tell with great glee, as demon- strative of native Kerry dexterity. " One day during the war, James Connor and I," he said, " dined at Mr. Mahony's in Dublin, and after dinner we heard the newsvenders as usual calling out 'Post! Diiblil Evelil Post! Three packets in to- night's Post!' The arrival of the packets was at that time irregular and eagerly looked for. Wo all were impatient for the paper, and Mahony gave a five-penny piece to his ser- vant, a Kerry lad, and told him to go down and buy the Post. The boy returned in a minute with a Dublin Evening Post — yfhkh on opening we found, to our infinite chagTin, was a LIFE AND TIMES OF O'CONNELL. 283 fortnight old. The roguish newsvender had pawned off an old paper on the unsuspecting Kerry tiger. Mr. Mahony stormed, Connor and I laughed, and Connor said, * I wonder, gossoon, how you let the fellow cheat you ? Has not your master a hundred times told you that the dry papers are always old and good for nothing, and that new papers are always wet from the printing-office? Here's another five- penny. Be oft now, and take care to bring us in a ivet Post.* ' Oh, never you mind the fi-penny, sir,' said the boy — ' I'll get the paper without it;' and he darted out of the room, while Mahony cried out : ' Hang that young blockhead! he'll blunder the business again.' But in less than five minutes the lad re- entered with a fresh, wet paper. We were all surprised, and asked him how he managed to get it without money. ' Oh, the aisiest way in life, your honom',' said the urchin; ' I just took the dnj old Post, and cried it down the street a bit — Dublin Evenbuj Post! Dublin Evening Post! and a fool of a gentleman meets me at the corner, and buys my ould dry paper. So I whips across to a newsman I sees over the way, and buys this fine, fi'csh, new Post for your honour with the money I got for the old one.'" The celebrated trial of John Magee took place in 1813. John Magee was proprietor of the Dublin Evcninrj Post. In that paper a review of the Irish viceroys who had preceded the Duke of Eichmond was published on the occasion of the re- tu-ement of Richmond from Ireland. The article was written by the able pen of Denis Scully, the author of a work .upon the penal laws. Denis Scully, whom we have alluded to in page 221, was the eldest son of a gentleman of large fortune in the county Tipperary. He had been called to the bar, possessed great abilities, and may be regarded as the successor of John Keogh of Mount Jerome in the management of Irish aflau-s. Upon his fii'st entrance into pubhc life he had written, it is alleged, some pamphlets in support of the government; and it was believed that his marriage to a lady who was re- lated to Lady Hardwicke had given a determination to his opinions. His first ^vl'itings, however, were merely juvenile effusions ; and he affcei'^^ards felt that the only means of obtain- ing justice for Ii'eland was by awaking a deep sense of their injuries among the great mass of the people. Accordingly, the character of his compositions was materially changed ; and from his study in Merrion-square there issued a succession of powerful and inflammatory writings. The wrongs of the country were presented in the most striking view ; and while 284 LIFE AND miES OF O'COXNELL. the aristocracy looked with alarm on those eloquent and honest expositions of the condition of the country, the people were excited to a point of discontent to which they had never before been raised. He was greatly inferior to O'ConneU as a speaker, but was considered folly as able in preliminary de- liberation. The measures of the body were generally beheTed to be of his suggestion. The '•' witchery resolutions," as they are commonly designated, and which related to the influence of an enchantress of fifty over the prince,-- were supposed to be his composition. He became an object of great detestation with the Protestant party, and of corresponding partiahty with his own. His large property, his indefatigable iDdustry, his profound sense of the injustice his country had suflered, and the eloquent simplicity with which he gave it expression, ren- dered him adequate to the part which had devolved upon him. His chief fatilt lay in the intemperate character of the measures which he recommended. His manner and aspect were in singular contrast and opposition to his poHtical ten- dencies. In utterance he was remarkably slow and deliberate, and wanted energy and fire. His cadences were singularly monotonous, every sentence ending with a sort of see- saw of the voice which was by no means natural or agreeable. His gesture was plain and unaffected, and it was easier to discover his emotions by the trembling of his fingers than by his coun- tenance ; for his hand would, under the influence of strong feeling or passion, shake and quiver like an aspen-leaf, while his countenance looked like marble. It was impossible to de- tect his sensations in his features. A deep smile played over his mouth whether he was indulging in pleasurable or sarcastic observations. This gentleman wrote a book (his admirable digest of the penal code) which restflted in the imprisonment of Fitzpatrick the bookseller ; and he wrote an article (a re- view of the viceroys of Ireland) which resulted in the incar- ceration of John ilagee, proprietor of the Eveyiing Post. A prodigious sensation was excited in Dublin by the prose- cution of John Magee. The haU of the Four Courts, that morning, was crowded to suffocation. Nothing could sur- pass the babble of the discussion, going on at every comer of the city, relative to the contingencies of the trial. It was not merely the prosecution itself, nor the popularity of the leading counsel and chent — the leading articles, which still continued to appear undaimtedly in the Evening Post, roused the' popu- lar excitement to something bordering on fi-enzy. "That - See page 203. LIFE A>-D TlilES OF O'COXXELL. 285 part of the public -^hicli is -^ortli thinking about," said 'Mr. Scully in the Evening Pat, 3rd June, " ^111 learn with regret that Mr. Magee, the proprietor of this paper, has been com- mitted to prison at Kilmainham for an alleged libel on the police magistrates. He is also under prosecution for a review of the Duke of Richmond's administration. This is the third Dublin printer who has been imprisoned imder the conciliatory government of the Dtike of PJchmond ; and thotigh the government press teems with dailv libels upon the whole po- pulation of the country, it is remarkable enough that not a single state prosecution has been instituted against it. God forbid we should cotmsel prosecution of the press at all ; but, if it is to be prosecuted, why should it be an ex-parte prosecu- tion ? . . . . Are not the government paid by the people ? Aye, from the liveried footman at a birth-day levee, up to the higher menial who holds it — all are paid by the people." Then, after alluding to the imprisonment of Magee, *' TMiile he lives, though it be in a dimgecn, the spirit of the press shall walk abroad, like the air of heaven, the pure im- palpable vehicle of Hght and life to the commimity. Hear it, every titled pluEderer of the people, for it shall penetrate into the recesses of your crimes ! Hear it also, every enemy of Ireland — Tros Tyriosve — Catholic pensioner or titled menial- hear it, and tremble ! While that press lives, * No titled slave Shall walk the world in comfort to his grave.' " The attorney-general (Saurin), 26th Jtily, 1813, opened the case. He said: •' My lord, and gentlemen of the jury, it is a very painful part of the duty of the office which I hold under the crown to bring before you the present case. This is an indictment against the traverser, John Magee, for a libel on his grace the Duke of Richmond, the Lord Lieutenant ot Ire- land. The publication, gentlemen, is in a newspaper, en- titled the Dublin Evenin(f Post, of which the traverser, Mr. Magee, is the printer and publisher I ehall proceed now to call yom- attention to the publication in ques- tion. It is entitled, "The Duke of Richmond.' Those parts of it which are stated in the indictment I shall now read to your lordship and the jury : " * As the Duke ot Richmond will shortly retire from the government oi Irekmd, it has been deemed necessary to take such a rtrriew of his administration as may at least warn his successor trcm pursuing the errors of liis grace's conduct. 286 LIFE AND TIBIES OF O'CONNELL. The review shall contain many anecdotes of the Irish court which were never published, and which were so secret that his gi-ace will not fail to be surprised at the sight of them in a newspaper. "'If the administration of the Duke of Richmond had been conducted with more than ordinary talent, its errors might, in some degree, have been atoned for by its ability, and the people of Ireland, though they might have much to regret, yet would have something to admii'e ; but truly, after the gravest con- sideration, they must find themselves at a loss to discover any striking feature in his grace's administration that makes it superior to the worst of his predecessors.' *'The writer first states that the duke was not superior to the worst of his predecessors, and then lorocceds to describe those worst of lord lieutenants : ' They insulted, they oppressed, they murdered, and they deceived. The profligate, unprin- cipled Westmoreland, the cold-hearted and cruel Camden, the artful and treacherous Cornwallis, leffc Ireland more depressed and divided than they found her. They augmented the power of the government both in the military and civil branches, they increased coercion and corruption, and uniformly em- ployed them against the liberties of the people.' This is a description of the men whom the Duke of Richmond has succeeded. Is it not a corrupt libel on our gracious king that he should have selected from his nobility such a succession of monsters ? ' They insulted, they oppressed, they murdered, and they deceived.' This is a description of the Hne of his predecessors. One would think that we v/ere reading an ac- count of the vilest of the Roman emperors. And the Duke of Richmond is not superior to the worst of these ! He is an oppressor, a mm-derer. Gentlemen, at the end of a long and honourable career, when every good and loyal man is mourning the departure of perhaps the best chief governor that Ireland ever saw, it is melancholy to think that there should be found a rufiian who could compose and deliberately publish so malig- nant, so atrocious a calumny. But I do not conceive that in this part of the libel his chief object is to insult the Duke of Richmond. If he had such an object in view, little does he know the character he was traducing. The armour which honour and integrity threw around him render him as invul- nerable as he is insensible to such attacks as these. If the libel only related to him, it would have gone by unprosecuted by me. But the imputation is made against the administration of justice by the government of Ireland, and it forms only a LIFE AND TIMES OF O CONNELL. 287 part of a sj^stem of calumny with whicli an association of fac- tious and revolutionary men are in the habit of vilifying every constitutional authority in the land. If anything was wanting to confii'm this being the true object of this libel, it is only necessary to read further : ' The consequence was, the country was regularly abandoned to its old distractions, with whatever additional disgrace the enduring a succession of bad adminis- trations heaps upon the character of a nation. Since that period the complexion of the times has changed — the country has advanced — it has outgrown submission, and some forms at least must now be observed towards the people. The system however is all the same — it is the old play with new decora- tions, presented in an age somewhat more enhghtened — the principle of government remains unaltered, a principle of ex- clusion which debars the majority of the people from the en- joj-ment of thoSe privileges that are possessed by the minority, and which must therefore maintain itself by all those measui'es necessary to a government founded on injustice.' *' Another part ot the libel is in these words : * Although his grace does not appear to know what are the qualities necessary for a judge in Canada, or for an aide-clc-c-as made between tho 13 290 LIFE AND TniES OF o'CONNELL. Earl of Essex and Felim O'Nial. However, at a feast wherein the Earl entertained that chieftain, and at the end of their good cheer, O'Nial, with his vdfe, were seized; their friends who attended were put to the sword before their faces. Felim, together with his wife and brother, were conveyed to Dublin, where they were cut up in quarters.' How would you have this fact described ? In what lady-like terms is the future historian to mention this savage and brutal massacre. Yet Essex was an English nobleman — a predecessor of his Grace ; he was accomphshed, gallant, and gay — the envied paramour of the virgin queen ; and if he afterwards fell on the scaffold, one of the race of the ancient Irish may be permitted to indulge the fond superstition that would avenge the royal blood of the O'Nial and of his consort on their perfidious English mur- derer. "But my soul fills with bitterness, and I will read of no more Irish murders. I tm-n, however, to another page, and I will introduce to your notice another predecessor of his Grace the Duke of Eichmond. It is Grey, who, after the recall of Essex, commanded the English forces in Munster. The fort of Smerwick, in Kerry, surrendered to Grey at discretion. It contained some Iiish troops, and more than 700 Spaniards. The historian shall tell you the rest : * That mercy for which they sued was rigidly denied them. Wingfield was commis- sioned to disarm them ; and when this service was perfoiTned, an English company was sent into the fort. The Irish rebels found they were reserved for execution by mai-tial law. The Italian general and some ofiicers were made prisoners of war — but the garrison icas butchered in cold blood ; nor is it without pain that we find a service so horrid and detestable committed to Sir Walter Raleigh.' * The garrison was butchered in cold blood,' says the historian. Furnish us, Mr. Attorney- General, with gentle accents and sweet words to speak of this savage atrocity ; or will you indict the author ? Alas ! he is dead, full of years and respect — as faithful an historian as the prejudices of his day would allow, and a beneficed clergyman of your church. " Gentlemen of the juiy, what is the miid language of this paper compared with the indignant language of history ? Ra- leigh — the ill-starred Raleigh — fell a victim to a tyi'ant master, a corrupt or overawed jury, and a virulent attorney- general ; he was baited at the bar with language more scurrilous and more foul than that you heard yesterday poured upon my client, yet, what atonement to civilization could his death afford for LIFE AND TIMES OF O'CONNELL. 291 the hori'ors I have mentioned? Decide now, gentlemen, be- tween those Hbels — between that defamer's history and my client. He calls those predecessors of his grace, murderers. History has left the living records of their crimes — fi'om the O'Nial, treacherously slaughtered, to the cruel, cold butchery of the defenceless prisoners. Until I shall see the publishers of Leland and of Hume brought to youi* bar, I defy you to convict my client. To show you that my client has treated these predecessors of his grace with gi'eat lenity, I will intro- duce to your notice one, and onl}' one more of them ; and he, too, fell on the scaffold — the unfortunate Strafford, the besu servant a despotic king could desire. ''Amongst the means taken to raise money in Ireland for James I. and his son Charles, a proceeding called ' a commis- sion to inquire into defective titles' was invented. It was a scheme, gentlemen, to inquire of every man what right he had to his own property, and to have it solemnly and legally deter- mined that he had none. To effectuate this scheme requii*ed great management, discretion, and integrity. First, there were 4,000 excellent horse raised for the purpose of being, as Strafford himself said, 'good lookers-on.' The rest of the arrangement I would recommend to modern practice — it would save much trouble. I will shortly abstract it from two of Strafford's own letters. The one appears to have been written by him to the lord treasm'er ; it is dated the 3rd December, 1634. He begins with an apology for not having been more expeditious in this work of plunder — ^for his employers were, it seems, impatient at the melancholy waste of time. He then says : ' Howbeit, I will redeem the time as much as I can, with such as may give furtherance to the king's title, and ivill inquire out Jit men to serve upon the juries.' Take notice of that, gentlemen, I pray you ; perhaps you thought that the * packing of jmies' was a modern invention — a new discovery. You see how greatly mistaken you were ; the thing has ex- ample and precedent to support it — and the authority of both are, in our law, quite conclusive. "The next step was to corrupt — oh, no; to interest the wise and learned judges. But commentary becomes unneces- sary when I read for you this passage from a letter of his to the king, dated the 9th of December, 1636: 'Your majesty was graciously pleased, upon my humble advice, to bestow four shillings in the pound upon your lord chief justice and lord chief baron in this kingdom, fourth of the first yearly rent raised upon the commission of defective titles, which, ujjon oh- 292 LIFE AND TIMES OF O CONNELL. serration, I find to he the best given that ever 7vas. For now tbey do intend it, with a care and diligence, such as if it were their ovm. private and most certain gaining to themselves; eveiT four shillings once paid shall better yom* revenue for ever after at least five pounds.' Thus, gentlemen of the jury, all was ready for the mockery of law and justice called a trial. "Now let me take any one of you; let me place him here, where Mr. Magee stands ; let him have his property at stake ; let it be of less value, I pray you, than a compensation for two years' imprisonment ; it will, however, be of sufficient value to interest and rouse all your agony and anxiety. If you were so placed here, you would see before you the well-paid attorney- general, perhaps, malig-nantly delighted to pora' his rancour upon you; on the bench would sit the corrupt and partisan judge, and l)efore you, on that seat which you now occupy, would be placed the packed and predetermined jury. I beg, sir, to know what would be yom- feelings, your horror, you rage ; would you not compare the attorney- general to the gam- bler who played v/ith a loaded die — and then you would hear him talk, in solemn and monotonous tones, of his conscience ! Oh, his conscience, gentlemen of the jury! " But the times are altered. The press — the press, gentle- men, has effectuated a salutary revolution ; a commission of defective titles would no longer be tolerated ; the judges can no longer be bribed with money, and juries can no longer be — I must not say it. Yes, they can, you Imow — we all know they can be still inquired out, and 'packed,' as the technical phrase is. But you, who are not packed — you, v.'ho have been faiily selected, will see that the language of the publication before us is mildness itself compared with that which the truth of history requires — compared vrith that which history has already used. "I proceed with this alleged libel. The next sentence is this: 'The profligate, unprincipled Westmoreland.' I throw down the paper and address myself in particular to some of 3'ou. There are, I see, amongst you some of our Bible dis- tributors, and of our ' suppressors of vice.' Distributors of Bibles, suppressors of vice — what call you profligacy? Wli.it is it you would call profligacy ? Suppose the peerage was ex- posed to sale, set up at open auction — it was at that time a judicial office. Suppose that its price — the exact price of this judicial office, was accurately ascertained by daily experience — would you call that profligacy ? If pensions were multiplied beyond bounds and beyond example — if places were augmented imtii invention was exhausted, nud then were subdivided and LIFE AND TDIES OF o'CONXELL. 293 split into halves, so that two might take the emoluments of each, and no person do the duty — if these acts were resorted to in order to comipt your representatives, would you, gentle suppressors of vice, call that profligacy? If the father of children selected in the open day his adulterous paramour — if the wedded mother of children displayed her crime unblush- ingly — if the assent of the titled or untitled wittol to his own shame was pui'chased with the people's money— if this scene — if these were enacted in the open day, would you call that profligacy, sweet distributors of Bibles ? The women of Ire- land have always been beauteous to a proverb ; they were without an exception chaste beyond the terseness of a proverb to express ; they are still as chaste as in former days, but the depraved example of a depraved com't has furnished some ex- ceptions, and the action for criminal conversation, before the time of Westmoreland unknown, has since become more famihar to oui* courts of justice. '' Call you the sad example w^hich produced those excep- tions — call you that profligacy, suppressors of vice and Bible distributors ? The vices of the poor are within the reach of control ; to suppress them, you can call in aid the churchwar- den and the constable ; the justice of the peace will readily aid you, for he is a gentleman — the court of sessions will punish those vices for you by fine, by imprisonment, and if you are urgent, by whipping. But, suppressors of vice, who shall aid you to suppress the vices of the great ? Are you sincere, or are you, to use your own phraseology, whitewashed tombs — painted charnel-houses ? Be ye hj^ocrites ? If 5'ou are not — if you be sincere (and, oh, how I wish that you were) — if you be sincere, I will steadily require to know of you, what aid you expect to suppress the vices of the rich and great ? Who will assist you to suppress those vices ? The chm'chwarden ? — Why he, I believe, handed them into the best pew in one of your cathedrals, that they might lovingly, hear divine service together. The constable ? Absurd ! The justice of the peace ? No, upon his honour. As to the court of sessions, you cannot expect it to interfere ; and, my lords, the judges are really so busy at the assizes, in hurrying the grand juries through the presentments, that there is no leisure to look after the scanda- lous faults of the great. Who then, sincere and candid sup- pressors of vice, can aid you ? — The Press. The press alone talks of the profligacy of the great ; and, at least, shames •into decency those whom it may fail to correct. The press is your only assistant. Go then, men oi conscience, men of 294 LIFE AND TIMES OF O'CONNELL. religion — go then, and convict John Magee because he pub- lished that Westmoreland was profligate and unprincipled as a lord lieutenant — do, convict ; and then return to your distribu- tion of Bibles and to your attacks upon the recreations of the poor, under the name of -^dces ! Do, convict the only aid which virtue has, and distribute j^our Bibles that you may have the name of being religious ; upon your sincerity depends my client's prospect of a verdict. Does he lean upon a broken reed ? I pass on from the sanctified portion of the jury which I have latterly addressed, and I call the attention of you all to the next member of the sentence — ' The cold-hearted and cruel Camden.' Here I have your prejudices all armed against me. In the administration of Camden, your faction was cherished and triumphant. Will you prevent him to be called cold and cruel? Alas! to-day, why have I not men to address who would listen to me for the sake of impartial justice! But even with you the case is too powerful to allow me to despair. Well, / do say, the cold and cruel Camden. Why, on one circuity during his administration, there were one hundred individuals tried before one judge — of these ninety -eight icere capitally con- victed, and ninety-seven hanged ! I understand one escaped ; but he was a soldier who murdered a j^^^^isant, or something of that TRIVIAL nature. Ninety-seven victims in one circuit ! In the meantime, it was necessary for the purposes of the Union that the flame of rebelHon should be led. The meetings of the rebel colonels in the north were, for a length of time, regularly reported to government — but the rebellion was not then ripe enough ; and whilst the fruits were coming to maturity under the fostering hand of the administration, the wretched dupes atoned on the gallows for allowing themselves to be deceived. In the meantime the soldiery were turned in at free-quarters amongst the wives and daughters of the peasantry ! " Have you heard of x^bercrombie, the valiant and the good — he who, mortally wounded, neglected his wound until victory was ascertained — he who allowed his life's stream to flow unnoticed because his country's battle was in suspense — he who died the martyr of victory — he who commenced the career of glory on the land, and taught French insolence (than which there is nothing so permanent — even transplanted, it ex- hibits itself to the third and fourth generation) — he taught French insolence that the British and Irish soldier was as much his superior by land as the sailor was confessedly by sea — he, in short, who commenced that career which has since placed the Irish Wellington on the highest pinnacle of glory. Aber- LIl'E AND TIMES OF O'CONNELL. 295 crombie and Moore were in Ireland under Camden. Lloore, too, has since fallen at the moment of triumph — Moore, the best of sons, of brothers, of friends, of men — the soldier and the scholar — the soul of reason and the heart of pity — Moore has, in documents of which you may plead ignorance, left his opinions upon record with respect to the cmelty of Camden's administration. But you all have heard of Aber- crombie's proclamation — for it amounted to that ; he proclaimed that cruelty in teims the most unequivocal ; he stated to the soldiery and to the nation that the conduct of the Camden ad- ministration had rendered ' the soldiery formidable to all but the enemy.' Was there no cruelty in thus degrading the British soldier ? And say, was not the process by which that degi-adation was efiectuated cruelty ? Do, then, contradict Abercrombie upon youi' oaths, if you dare ; but by doing so it is not my client alone you will convict — you will also con- vict yourselves of the foul crime of perjury. " I now come to the third branch of this sentence ; and here I have an e^sj task. All, gentlemen, that is said of the arti- ficer and superintendent of the Union is this : * the artful and treacherous Cornwallis.' Is it necessary to prove that the Union was effectuated by artifice and treachery ? For my part, it makes my blood boil when I think of the unhappy period which was contrived and seized on to carry it into effect. One year sooner, and it would have made a revolution — one year later, and it would have been for ever impossible to carry it. The moment was artfully and treacherously seized on, and our country, that ivas a nation for countless ages, has dwindled into a province, and her name and her glory are extinct for ever. I should not waste a moment upon this part of the case but that the gentlemen at the other side, who opposed that measm-e, have furnished me with some topics which I may not, cannot omit. Indeed, Mr. Magee deserves no verdict from any Irish jui-y who can hesitate to think that the contriver of the Union is treated with too much lenity in this sentence ; he fears yom' disapprobation for speaking with so little ani- mosity of the artificer of the Union. There was one piece of treachery committed at that period at which both you and I equally rejoice — it was the breach of faith towards the leading Catholics . The wiitten promises made them at that period have been since printed; I rejoice with you that they were not ful- filled. When the Catholic trafficked for his own advantage upon his country's miseries, he deserved to be deceived. For this mockery I thank the Cornwallis administration. I rejoice. 290 LIFE AND TI3IES OF o'CONNELL. also, that my fii'st introduction to the stage of public life was in the opposition to that measui'e. In humble and obscure distance I followed the footsteps of my present adversaries. What their sentiments were then of the authors of the Union I beg to read to you. I will read them from a newspaper set up for the mere pm^pose of opposing the Union, and conducted under the control of these gentlemen. If theii' editor should be gravely denied, I shall only repty — ' Oh, cease your fun- ning !'-:< The charge of being a Jacobin was at that time made against the present attorney-general — him, plain William Sauiin — in the very terms, and with just as much truth as he now applies it to my client. His reply shall serve for that of Mr. Magee. I take it from the Anti- Union of the 22nd March, 1800. ' To the charge of Jacobin, Mr. Saurin said he knew not what it meant, as applied to him — except it was an oppo- sition to the will of the British minister !' So says Mr. Magee ; but gentlemen, my eye lights upon another passage of Mr. Saurin' s, in the same speech from which I have quoted the above. It was in these words : ' Mr. Saurin admitted that de- bates might sometimes produce agitations ; but that was the price necessarily paid for liberty.' Oh, how I, thank this good Jew for the word. Yes, agitation is, as Mr. Saui'in w^ell re- marked, the price necessarily paid for liberty. We have paid the price, gentlemen, and the honest man refuses to give us the goods (much laughing). Now, gentlemen, of this Mr. Saurin, then an agitator, I beg leave to read the opinion upon this Union, the author of which we have only called artful and trea- cherous. From this speech of the 13th March, 1800, I select those passages : ' Mr. Samin said he felt it his duty to the crown, to the country, and to his family, to warn the minister of the dreadfd consequences of persevering in a measure which the people of Ireland almost unanimously disliked.' And again — ' He, for one, would assert the principles of the glorious revolution, and boldly declare in the face of the nation that w^hen the sovereign power dissolved the compact that existed between the government and the people, that moment the right of resistance accrues. Whether it would be prudent ia the people to avail themselves of that right would be another question. But if a Legislative Union were forced on the country against the will of its inhabitants, it would be a nullity, and resistance to it would be a struggle against usurpation, and not a resistance against law.' May I be permitted just to observe, * A pamphlet under this title was published by the solicitor-general ; it was full of wit ai.d talent. LIFE AND TIMES OF O'CONNELL. 297 how mucli more violent this agitator of tho year 1800 than we, poor and timid agitators of the year 1818. When did we talk of resistance being a question of prudence ? Shame upon the men who call us intemperate, and yet remember their own vio- lence." The fierce severity of O'Connell's attack seemed to be felt acutely by the attorney-general. In the first instance, he seemed amazed at the intrepid courage of this invective, which branded him as a libeller before the court, a calumniator in the face of the country, and to his beard a liar ; but surprise seemed gradually to give place to agony. To be thus held up to hatred and ridicule in the presence of his own sons and of the leading members of the government, and in the centre of a court crowded with a vast auditory, must have been exquisitely pain- ful to his feelings. Even his enemies were moved to pity by his visible agony — the wi'ithings of his frame, the contortions of his countenance, the green and livid hue that alternately succeeded the faint flushings of his quivering cheek. It vvas to little pm'pose that the commander of the forces, who sat under the bench. Lord lunnaird, Robert Peel, and the chan- cellor of the exchequer, endeavoured to console him with kind whispers, and soothe him with looks of sympathy. The sweat trickled down his forehead, his lips were as white as ashes, his jaws elongated, and his mouth unconsciously open. Saurin — a Frenchman in face, a Scotchman in character — was an Orangeman hj choice. He was the grandson of a French Protestant who sought an asylum in Ii'eland after the revoca- tion of the Nantes' edict. His appearance was that of a worldly and sagacious man — sly, cunning, and considerate ; not unge- nerous, but by no means exalted ; with some sentiment, and no sensibility ; more acute than comprehensive — more subtle than refined ; a man of point and of detail ; a lover of usage and an enemy to innovation. He was something of a republican by nature, but fashioned by circumstances into a tory ; moral, but not pious ; decent, but not devout. His passions were violent, and rather covered than suppressed. There was no fraud about him, but there was a disguise o' his emotions which bordered upon guile. He was wholly free from vulgarity, and quite denuded of accomplishment. There was an intimation of slowness and suspicion in his gait, and the spirit of caution seemed to regulate his movements. His demeanour bespoke neither dignity nor meanness. His French origin was legibly expressed in his lineaments. The Huguenot was stamped upon his face ; he was not only a Frenchman in coloui', but a 298 LIFE AND TIMES OF O'CONNELL. Calvinist in expression. His forehead was thoughtful, but neither bold nor lofty. It was furrowed by long study and recent care. His eye was black and wily, and glittered under a mass of rugged and shaggy ej^ebrows. There was a want of intellectual elevation in his aspect; but he had a cautious shrewdness and a discriminating perspicacity. His countenance had much dehberate consideration, but little depth or wisdom. Strange to say, Saurin was at one time popular in Ireland. When the Union was proposed, he threw himself into an indig- nant opposition to the measure. He called the bar together ; and upon his motion, a resolution was passed protesting against the merging of his country in the imperial amalgamation. He denied the light of the Irish legislature to alienate its sacred trust. He insisted that it would amount to a forfeiture of that es- tate which was derived from and held under the people, in whom the reversion must perpetually remain. Saurin thus obtained a well-merited popularity. His efforts were strenuous and un- remitting, but could not avail. Lord Castlereagh succeeded to the full extent of his undertaking. When the Catholic Board assumed an attitude of defiance — when the press became daily more violent, and teemed with articles envenomed with the most deleterious truth, Saurin was suddenly converted from a pre- vious neutrality into the most violent opponent of Roman Ca- thohc Emancipation. There appeared to be a great inconsis- tency between his horror of the Union and his antipathy to the Catholics. Prt)secutions were instituted and conducted by Saurin ; he obtained verdicts — but his character and his peace of mind were affected by his ignominious success, and he gi-ew into an object of national detestation. As a la^^yer, no man was better versed in putting facts than Saurin. He could invest the most hopeless and, we might add, the most dishonest cause, with a most deceitful plausi- bility ; and the total absence of all effort, and the ease and appa- rent simplicity of his manners, gave him at times a supe- riority even to Plunket himself. The article for which Magee was prosecuted consisted of nine columns. It came out in three successive numbers of the Evening Post. The object of the Duke of Richmond, accord- ing to the article, vras to establish a military government, and to rule Ireland with the bayonet. Hence, the great number of barracks which he erected all over the surface of the king- dom. As a preparation for a government of courts-martial, he perverted though he did not dispense vdth the law. When he was gone, the Irish would look b?.ck upon his memory as LIFE AND TIMES OF O'CONNELL. 299 he looked down upon their sufferings. It would be no great burthen to their memoiy to remember the complaints he re- dressed, the harmony he diffased, and the morality he prac- tised. The following extract is perhaps the only part of the article which strictly speaking can be termed a review : " The duke," it stated, "is at present in almost open hostility with the Catholic population. He advances then- enemies, he post- pones their Mends ; he exerts himself personally against them. Under his administration, Mr. Giffard was made accountant- general, and was superannuated on full salary a-year after his acceptance of office. Doctor Duigenan was made privy coun- cillor. Mr. Hai'e, the pohce magistrate who dispersed the Ca- thoHc Committee, was made commissioner of appeals. Captain Stanhope was removed from his military rank for speaking favourably of the Cathohcs. The gi-ant to the Cathohc college was reduced ; the Catholics were refused admittance as bank directors. An illegal letter of aiTest was issued against the Catholic meetings. A proclamation mis-stating the law of the land was issued against the Catholic Committee. The Cathohc delegates were prosecuted ; the Catholic printers were attached. On the trials, the government interfered with the juries ; they selected their own jmymen. They spread abroad reports that the Catholics were to rise and murder the Protestants. They supported the an ti- Catholic candidates at the elections. They set on foot Protestant petitions and grand jm-y addresses against the Catholics. . . . Would that wrong-headed man — that clumsy capacity, Lord Dysart, have signed the requisition for the Protestant meeting in lulkenny if he had not been set on by his grace's party ? Would that ignoble- minded, prosing Colonel Wingfield have cu'culated the requi- sition for the county Wicklow unless there was some private machinery to set in motion his vulgar and ignorant acti\ity ? Would a similar requisition have been signed in three counties by LDrd Monck if his lordship was not aware that it would please his grace — perhaps facilitate his promotion. It was not enough that this young nobleman's father should sell him- self to a former ministry for the title of viscount — his son must sell himself to another for the title of earl. One might have supposed that Mr. Gregorj^ his relative in Dublin Castle, and Lord Clancarty, another relative, together with Viscount Castlereagh, would have succeeded in gratifying his lofty am- bition. But his lordship knows the virtues of his lineage would be sullied unless his servile compliance was added to the submissive services of his relations." 800 LIFE AND TIMES OP O'CONNELL. But perlin.ps another article whicla appeared in the Post while Magee was in prison, constituted the real ground of offence. The following, which was published on the 16th July, 1813, in reference to the decoration of King "William's statue on the 12th, was, we suspect, the real stimulant to govern- mental severity. The Orange papers had identified the pa- triotism of the Catholics with the tyranny of James II. The Post addressed the Duke on this subject : " Your grace is proud of your Stuart descent," said the Post; "we know it. Your plate and your pictures — your medals, insignia, and heraldic devices — your motto and your crest — the bar through the crown emblazoned on your carriage — the ostentatious dis- play of the silver on your sideboard, evidently show that you adopt an opinion, that it is a prouder and a better thing to be a rich man's bastard than a poor man's heir. The Catho- lics served your family long; they never received anything from them but injury. They served in various countries under various princes of your house. They never found any of them other than a tyrant. They had often been ruled by Protestant and Catholic princes of jonr house ; they never were ruled vdthout being scourged by them. They have often had their hopes excited by your family; and just as often they have had their best interests betrayed by them. Then why should the Catholics be insulted on their account ? May it please your grace, if any one should be insulted for this connexion, why not yourself? We do not say that either you or the Catholics should be insulted: neither are to blame. Their connexion with that family should no more be laid to their account than your connexion to yom- account. They share not in the dis- honour of the unprincipled king who terminated that regal line, more than you do in the disgrace of the unprincipled, adulterous harlot who commenced your ducal line. The Catho- lics are no more justly chargeable -with the crime and bigotry of a coward king, than you could be justly chargeable with the compound turpitude of a perjured English tyrant and a ]Drurient Gallic w ." Could we suppose the feelings of the Catholics miiTored in this article, it would prove that they were animated with an untameable spirit of liberty. But such was not the case. It was the leaders — Scully and O'Connell — who were fired by this inextinguishable spirit. The ofiicers of the national army would lead, if the rank and file would follow. But they would not. The latter were animated by an intense hatred of their oppressors rather than by a fervent love of liberty. They LIFE A^ TlilES OF 0'CON]^fELL. 301 fastened nick- names on tlie Duke of Richmond which showed the bitterness of their antipathy. They called him the " Duke) of Poteen," and the "Marshal of Mogherow." Mogherow was the scene of an Orange riot which he approved of. The fol- lowing squib is a specimen of the lighter warfare that preceded the pitched battle, and rendered the collision inevitable : " A\Tio's this ? What's this ? • This is the holy Catholic Board, With fifty thousand grievauces stored 1 " \Mio's this ? AVhat's this ? This is the Marshal from Mogherow — The Duke of Poteen, whom nothing can cow I Determined to batter the Cathohc Boiird, WilSi its fifty thousand grievances stored. " Who's this ? What's this ? This is the dignified Doctor Dromgoole, Who swears by his snutf-box that he'll make a fool Of the vahant Marshal from Mogherow — The Duke of Poteen, whom nothing can cow I Deteraiined to batter the Cathohc Board, With its fifty thousand giievances stored. " ^\^lo's this ? What's this ? This is the pompous Sir Plausible Bushe, "Vowing to God he don't care a rush For nfiy such nobs as Doctor Dromgoole ! Who swears by liis snufF-box that he'll make a fool Of the vaUant Marshal fi'om ilogherow — The Duke of Poteen, whom nothing can cow I" The terror and vexation with which O'Connell's defence of Magee overw^helmed Saui'in was not confined to that official — it embraced at once the whole of the Irish Orangemen, who shuddered and tui'ned pale at the conrage with which O'Con- nell bearded the insolence of o££ce, and flung defiance in the teeth of the first law- ofiicer of the crown. All that class of men who saw with satisfaction the bridges of Dublin, in 1798, gar- nished with trunkless heads, and the mangled backs of the la- cerated *' Papists" bleeding under the lash, apprehensive of re- tribution for their cruelties, trembled at this outburst of pa- triotic eloquence, like the white-faced culprit before the black- capped judge. As J. Giffard-;^ said in the corporation on tha * See page 198. 802 LIFE AND TISIES OF o'CONNEIJ.. day of the trial : " The Protestants of the metropolis are frightened." Of course he could not mean the liberal Protes- tants, who, in common with the Catholics, rejoiced at the spirit and dignity with which O'Connell chastised the intemperance and trampled on the vanity of the attorney-general, and proved that the Irish bar still felt the vital throb of liberty. Giffard meant the men who still longed for the "riding-house," the whip-cord, and the triangle of the executioner. The government meantime were filled with confusion on finding that the spirit of the country, though sleeping, was not dead. At the orders of the aristocracy, the press which echoed their opinions assailed O'Connell with fierce and, in some instances, ridiculous vituperation. The Patriot com- pared O'Connell to " a bandy-legged dancing-master." The Dublin Journal denominated him " a ruffian." Another jour- nalist challenged O'Connell to fight him " hilt to hilt." While a fourth talked of " the hereditary atrocities and recent bold criminalities of the Popish faction." They were all stung to fury by his triumphant exposure of the bigotry and weakness of the attorney-general. The following passage seemed to give them particular pain : " But, gentlemen, is the attorney-general at liberty to change the nature of things mth his own ofiicial and professional prospects ? I am ready to admit that he receives thousands of pounds by the year of the public moneys in his ofiice of attorney-general — thousands from the crown solicitor — thou- sands, for doing little work, from the Custom House; but does all this public booty with which he is loaded alter the nature of things, or prevent that fi'om being a deceitful measure, brought about by artful and treacherous means, against which Mr. Saurm, in 1800, preached the holy doctrine of insurrection, sounded the tocsin of resistance, and summoned the people of the land to battle against it as against usurpation? "In 1800, he absolves the subjects from their allegiance if the usurpation styled the Union will be carried — and he, this identical agitator, in 1813 indicts a man, and calls him a ruffian for speaking of the contrivers of the Union, not as usurpers, but as artful, treacherous men. Gentlemen, pity the situation in which he has placed himself; and pray, do not think of inflicting punishment upon my cUent for his extreme moderation. "It has been coarsely urged, and it will, I know, be urged in the splendid misrepresentations with which the solicitor- general can so well distort the argument he is unable to meet — LIFE AND TniES OF o'CONNELL. 303 it will, I know, be urged by him, that having established the right to use this last paragi-aph — having proved that the pre- decessors of the duke were oppressors and murderers, and profligate, and treacherous, that the libel is only aggravated thereby, as the first paragraph compares and combines the Duke of Richmond with the worst of his predecessors. This is a most fallacious assertion ; and here it is that I could wish I had to address a dispassionate and an enlightened jury. You are not, you know you are not, of the selection of my client. Had he the poor privilege of the sheep-stealer, there are at least ten of you who should never have been on his jury. If I had to addi'ess such a jury, how easily could I show them that there is no comparison — no'^ttempt at similitude. On the contrarj^ the object of the writer is clearly to make a contrast. Grey murdered — but he was an able statesman ; his massacre was a crime in itself, but eminently useful to his em- ployers ; it contributed mainly to secure the forfeiture of the overgi'own territories of the House of Desmond. Essex was a murderer — but his extreme of vice was accompanied by great military services ; he w^as principally instrumental in eflectu- ating the conquest of Ireland ; even his crimes served the cause of his royal mistress, and the territory of the slaughtered O'Nial became shire land ; he had terrific cruelty to answer for, but he could give it some answer in the splendour and solidity of his ser\aces. So of Straflbrd — he was an eminent oppressor, but he was also eminently useful to his royal master. As to the Duke of Richmond, the contrast is intended to be com- plete — he has neither great crimes nor gi-eat virtues. He did not murder, like Essex and Grey, but he did not render any splendid services. In short, his administration has been di- rectly the reverse of these. It has been marked by errors and crimes. It has not displayed talents as they did ; and it has no striking features as theirs had. Such is the fair, the rational, and the just construction which a fair, rational, and just jury would put upon it. Indeed, the attorney-general seems to feel it was necessary for him to resort to other topics in order to induce you to convict upon this part of the case. He tells you that this is the second time that the Duke of Richmond has been called a murderer. Gentlemen, in this indictment there is no allegation that the duke is styled a mui'derer by this pub- lication ; if there had, he should be readily acquitted, even for the variance ; and when the attorney-general resorts to Bariy's case, he does it to inflame your passions and mislead yom- un- derstandings — and then what has the Irish Magazine to do with 804 LIFE AND TIMES OF O'CONNELL. this trial ? Walter Cox, with his Irish Marfazine, is as good a Protestant as the king's attorney- general, and probably quite as sincere in the profession of that religion, though by no means as much disposed to persecute those who differ from him in religious belief. Indeed, if he were a persecutor of his country- men, he would not be where he is — in prison ; he would pro- bably enjoy a full share of the public plunder, and which is now lavished on the stupid journals in the pay of the Castle — from the versatile, venal, and verbose Correspondent, to the equally dull and coiTupt Dublin Journal. It is, however, nox true that he is in gaol because he published what is called a libel. The attorney-general talked with a gloating pleasure of the miseries poor Watty Cox endures in gaol — miseries that seem to give poignancy and zest to the enjo}Tiients of his pro- secutor. I will make him happy ; let him return from this court to his luxuries, and when he finds himself at his table, surrounded with every delicacy and every profusion, remember that his prisoner, Walter Cox, is star^-ing. I envy him not this relish, but I cannot suffer him to mislead you. Cox is not in gaol because he published a libel — he is there because he is poor. His time of imprisonment expired last February, but he was condemned to pay a fine of £300 — and having no money, he has since remained in gaol. It is his povei-ty, therefore, and not his crime, that detains him within the fangs of the attorney- general — if, indeed, there be any greater crime in society than being poor. "And, next, the attorney-general makes a beautiful eulogium on Magna Charta. There we agi-ee. I should, indeed, prefer seeing the principles of that gi'eat charter called into practical effect to hearing any palinode, however beautiful, said or sung on its merits. But what recommendation can Magna Charta have for poor Cox ? That charter of liberty expressly provides that no man shall be fined beyond what he can pay — a very simple and natm-al provision against political severity. But Cox is fined £300 when he is not worth a single shilling. Ho appealed to this court for relief, and quotes Magna Charta. Your lordship was not pleased to give him any rehef. He applies to the court of exchequer ; and that coui-t, after hear- ing the attorney-general against him, finds itself unable to give any relief; and, after all this, the unfortunate man is to be tantaUzed -ftdth hearing that the attorney- general contrived to couple his case with the praise of the gi-eat charter of liberty — a most unlucky coincidence — almost enough to di'ive him, in whose person that charter is violated, into a state of insanity. LIFE AND TIMES OP O'CONNELL. 305 Poor Watty Cox is a coarse fellow, and, I think, lie would be apt to reply to that praise in the profane and contemptuous rhyme of Cromwell ; most assuredly he has no reason to treat this useless law with great reverence. It would, indeed, appear as if the prosecutor eulogised Magna Charta only to give more briUiancy to the triumph which he has obtained in the person of poor Cox over it. "The next topic of the attorney-general's triumphant abuse was the book entitled, 'The Statement of the Penal Laws.' He caUed it a competed book. He exulted that the publisher was in prison, he traduced the author, and he distorted and misrepresented the spirit and meaning of that book. As to the publisher, he is, I admit, in prison. The attorney-general has had the pleasm-e of tearing a respectable citizen, of irreproach- able character and conduct, from his wife and the little children who were rendered comfortable by his honest, persevering in- dustry, and he has immm-ed him in a dungeon. I only con- gratulate him on his victory." In Magee's case O'Connell's speech was as much an indict- ment of the government as an apology for the defendant. Its merit lies in its vehement invective — in the fact that it hurled in the teeth of the British government contempt and defiance. Hence the prodigious popularity it enjoyed when it appeared in book shape. Hence 10,000 copies were sold the day it was published. Hence it was translated into Spanish and French. And owing to the value which was set upon it, every member of the Cortes,- or parliament of Spain, was, it is alleged, pre- sented with a copy. In its delivery the matter seemed perfectly unstudied, as if it were the spontaneous production of the speaker's feelings at the instant. There were no traces of pre-arrangement; no high-wrought passages smelling of the lamp and forced in for effect. O'Connell had satisfied himself, no doubt, with an attentive study of the various topics which it embraced ; but he trusted apparently to the moment of delivery lor the succession, the arrangement, and expression of those topics. He passed from one key to another — fi'om the calm to the vehement, from humour to passion, the auditor hardly knew how ; yet the transition seemed always natural. The follo"wing extract, in which he alludes to James II., is perhaps the most able of the many eloquent passages which are thickly strewn thi'ough this powerful oration : "This sentence is said to be particularly libellous: 'He has begun to act ; he has ceased to be a dispassionate chief- * Evening Post. 306 LIFE AND TIMES OF o'CONNELL. governor who views the wickedness and the folly of faction with composure and forbearance, and stands, the representa- tive of majesty, aloof from the contest. He descends ; he mixes with the throng ; he becomes personally engaged, and having lost his temper, calls forth his private passions to sup- port his public principles ; he is no longer an indifferent vice- roy, but a frightful partisan of an English ministry, whose base passions he indulges, whose unworthy resentments he gratifies, and on whose behalf he at present canvasses.' " Well, gentlemen, and did he not canvass on behalf of the ministry ? Was there a titled or untitled servant of the Castle who was not despatched to the south to vote against the popular, and for the ministerial candidates ? Was there a single individual within the reach of his grace that did not vote against Prittie and Matthew in Tipperary, and against Hutchinson in Cork ? I have brought with me some of the newspapers of the day, in which this partisanship of the lord lieutenant is treated by Mr. Hutchinson in language so strong and so pointed, that the words of the publication are mildness and softness itself when compared with that language. I shall not read them for you, because I should fear that you may imagine I unnecessarily identified my client with the violent but merited reprobation poured upon the scandalous interference of om* government with those elections. I need not, I am sure, tell you that any interference by the lord lieutenant with the pm-ity of the election of members to serve in parHament is highly unconstitutional and highly criminal — he is doubly bound to the most strict neutrality. Fu'st, as a peer, the law prohibits his interference ; secondly, as representative of the crown, his interference in elections is an usurpation of the people's rights — it is, in substance and effect, high treason against the people, and its mischiefs are not the less by reason of there being no punishment affixed by the law to this treason. "If this offence, gentlemen, be of daily recurrence — if it be frequently committed, it is upon that account only the more destructive to our liberties, and therefore requires the more loud, direct, and frequent condemnation; indeed, if such practices be permitted to prevail, there is an end to every remnant of freedom; our boasted constitution becomes a mockery and an object of ridicule, and we ought to desire the manly simplicity of unmixed despotism. Will the attorney- general — will his colleague, the solicitor- general, deny that I have described this offence in its true colours? Will they LIFE AND TIMES OF o'CONNELL. S07 attempt to deny the interference of the Duke of Richmond in the late elections ? I would almost venture to put your ver- dict upon this, and to consent to a conviction if any person shall be found so stocked with audacity as to presume publicly to deny the interference of his grace in the late elections, and his partisanship in favour of the ministerial candidates. Gentlemen, if that be denied, what will you — what can you think of the veracity of the man who denies it ? I fearlessly refer the fact to you ; on that fact I build. This interference is as notorious as the sun at noon- day ; and who shall venture to deny that such interference is described by a soft term vhen it is called partisanship ? He who uses the influence of the executive to control the choice of the representatives of the people, violates the first principles of the constitution, is guilty of political sacrilege, and profanes the very sanctuary of the people's rights and liberties; and if he should not be called a partisan, it is only because some harsher and more appropriate term ought to be applied to his delinquency. **I will recall to your minds an instance of violation of the constitution which will illustrate the situation of my client, and the protection which, for your own sakes, you owe him. When, in 1687, King James removed several Protestant rectors in Ireland from their churches, against law and justice, and illegal h" and unconstitutionally placed Roman Catholic clergymen in their stead, would any of you be content that he should be simply called a partisan ! No, gentlemen, my client and I — Catholic and Protestant though we be — a,gree perfectly in this, that partisan would have been too mild a name for him, and that he should have been branded as a violator of the law, as an enemy to the constitution, and as a crafty tyrant, who sought to gi'atify the prejudices of one part of his subjects that he might trample upon the liberties of all. And what, I would fain learn, could you think of the attorney-general who prosecuted, or of the judge who con- demned, or of the jury who convicted a printer for publishing to the world this tyranny — this gross ^dolation of law and justice ? But how would your indignation be roused if James had been only called a partisan, and for calling him a partisan a Popish jury had been packed, a Popish judge had been se- lected, and that the printer, who, you will admit, deserved applause and reward, met condemnation and punishment. Of you — of you shall this story he told if you convict Mr. Magee. The duke has interfered in elections ; he has violated the liberties of the subject ; he has profaned the very temple o08 LIFE AND TIMES OP O' CORNELL. of the constitution ; and he who has* said that in so doing he was a partisan from your hands expects punishment. " Compare the kindred offences — James deprived the Pro- testant rectors of their livings ; he did not persecute, nor did he interfere with their religion — for tithes, and oblations, and glebes, and church-lands, though solid appendages to any church, are not part of the Protestant religion. The Protes- tant religion would, I presume, and for the honour of human nature I sincerely hope, continue its influence over the human mind without the aid of those extrinsic advantages. Its pastors would, I trust and believe, have remained true to their charge without the adventitious benefits of temporal rewards ; and, like the Roman Catholic Church, it might have shone forth a glorious example of fii-mness in religion, setting perse- cution at defiance. James did not attack the Protestant re- ligion — I repeat it ; he only attacked the revenues of the Pro- testant Chm'ch; he \iolated the law and the constitution in depriving men of that property, by his individual authority, to which they had precisely the same right vvith that by which he wore his crown. But is not the controlling the election of members of parliament a more dangerous violation of the con- stitution ? Does it not corrupt the very sources of legislation, and convert the guardians of the state into its plunderers ? "To any man who loved the constitution of freedom, I could safely appeal for my client's vindication ; or if any dis- pleasm-e could be excited in the mind of such a man, it would arise because of the forbearance and lenity of this publication. But the duke is called a frightful partisan ! Granted, gentle- men — granted. And is not the interference I have mentioned frightful ? Is it not terrific ? Who can contemplate it with- out shuddering at the consequences which it is likely to pro- duce ? What gentler phrase — what lady-like expression should my client use ? The constitution is sought to be violated, and he calls the author of that violation a frightful partisan. Really, gentlemen, the fastidiousness which would reject this expression would be better employed in preventing or punish- ing crime than in dragging to a dungeon the man who has the manliness to adhere to truth, and to use it. Recollect also — I cannot repeat it too often — that the attorney-general told you that ' the liberty of the press was the best protection of the people against the government.' Now, if the constitu- tion be violated — if the pm-ity of election be disturbed by the executive, is not this precisely the case when this protection becomes necessary ? It is not wanted ; nor can the press be LIFE AND TUIES OF O'CONNELL. 809 called a protector so long as the government is administered with fidelity, care, and skill. The protection of the press is requisite only when integrity, diligence, or judgment do not belong to the administration ; and that protection becomes the more necessary in the exact proportion in which these qualities are deficient. But what protection can it afford if you convict in this same instance ? For, by doing so, you will decide that nothing ought to be said against that want of honesty, or of attention, or of understanding; the more neces- sary will the protection of the press become, the more unsafe will it be to publish the truth ; and in the exact proportion in which the press might be usefal will it become liable to punishment. In short, according to the attorney-general's doctrine, when the press is ' best employed and wanted most' it will be most dangerous to use it. And thus the more cor- rupt and profligate any administration may be, the more clearly can the pubHc prosecutor ascertain the sacrifice of his selected ^dctim. And, call you this protection? Is this a protector who must be disarmed the moment danger threa- tens, and ifi bound a prisoner the instant the fight has com- menced ?" The gloomy fanaticism which darkened the character of Saurin was entirely absent in the open and sunny character of his colleague, Bushe. Bushe was conspicuously liberal. He was the son of a clergy-man of the Estabhshed Church who resided at ILilmurry, in the county Kilkenny, in the midst of the most accomplished society in Ireland — a man of refined manijers and of polished if not prudential habits. His son, Charles Kendal Bushe, imbibed from him an ardent love of literature, and had an opportunity^ from his familiar intercourse with the best society, to acquire those graces of manner which, in conjunction with his eloquence and liberality, rendered him in the highest degree dangerous to the liberties of the Iiish. His associate, or rather his superintendent in ofiice, Saurin, was conspicuous for his hatred of the Boman Catholic cause, of which Bushe professed himself the earnest niend. Antipathy to the Catholics fonned the leading, we may say the only featm-e in the political character of Saurin. Bushe, on the other hand, had often declared that he considered the general degradation of so large a class of the community as incompatible with na- tional felicity. This difference of opinion ivas said to have produced a want of cordiality between the two servants of the crown. Bushe, however, with his ostentatious liberality of feeling was of infinitely more use to the aristocracy — infinitely 310 LIFE AND TIMES OF o'CONNELL. more mischieYOus to the Catholics than Saurin could possibly have been when the suppression of the Catholic Committee was determined on. Saurin, upon the trial of the delegates, exhi- bited a sombre virulence which was calculated to excite won- der rather than conviction. But the solicitor-general produced a vei7 different effect. He stood before the jury as the advo- cate of the Catholic cause to suppress the Eoman Catholic Committee. The members of that body had been designated "miscreants" by Saurin. The solicitor-general blandly tenned them "his friends." With a consummate address he professed himself the champion of the people, and put forth all his ardour in insisting on the necessity of concession to 6,000,000 of men. To the utterance of these sentiments he annexed the full power of his wonderful delivery. His countenance became radiant, his voice assumed all the varieties of its most im- passioned intonation, and his person was informed and almost elevated by the consciousness of the noble thoughts which he was enforcing for the purpose of investing the very fallacies which he intended to inculcate with the splendid semblances of truth. After having wrought his hearers to a species of enthu- siasm, and declared vnth an attitude almost as noble as the sentiment which it was intended to set oft', that he would throw the constitution to his Catholic countrymen as widely open as his own breast, he suddenly turned back, and after one of those pauses the effect of which can be felt by those only who have been present upon such occasions, in the name of those very prin- ciples of justice which he had so povv^erfully laid down, he im- plored the jury to suppress an institution which he asserted to be the gi'eatest obstacle to the success of that measui'e for the attainment of which it had been ostensibly established. He re- enacted this scene at the trial of Magee, and proved that, next to a liberal viceroy, nothing is so dangerous as a liberal solici- tor-general. " Gentlemen of the jury," said Bushe, " a considerable por- tion of the learned counsel's speech, and a considerable part of his client's libel have been employed in sending forward to the public repeated editions of a confuted calumny, and the basest slander that ever occupied the mind of man for the defamation of private character and the disturbance of the pubHc peace. I am not sm^prised that the person in whose paper the calumny is repeated should instruct his counsel to republish it here. His client was interested in the circulation of that shameless libel ; for the man who was daring and bearding the justice of the country had an interest inbringmg its courts of justice into LIFE AND TIMES OF o'CONNELL. 311 contempt; and when he was composing a libel upon the government, his guilty conscience told him it was necessary to conclude it with an attack upon the law of the land. Gentle- men, the slanderous assertion in this paper has been repeated on this trial, as on former occasions — that the government of the country has stained its hands by picking out a jury for the perversion of public justice ; and you heard it put forward with most shameful confidence, that the attorney sworn to the honest performance of the highest duties in the state, had himself nominated the jury to the sherifi", who was corrupt enough to execute his unlawful commands. Gentlemen, you saw that young man with that credulity peculiar to faction, which is disposed to believe a thing which men of cool judgment could not presume — you saw that young man after every attempt to delay the trial was resorted to, endeavour to prejudice the pub- lic mind by that foul aspersion. . . . Yet I v*-ill venture to predict that what was yesterday confuted as a falsehood (that dkect charge of corruption in the sheriff — the du'ect chai'ge of what is worse than corraption in the attorney-general), refuted, and convicted, and ridiculed as that libel was — at the hour I speak faction has it flpng thi'ough the country, and asserts to be true that which has been condemned as false. I am soitv to say that the licentiousness of the press has become so un- governable that trials for libel are no longer useful or necessary-, except for the punishment of the guilty. As to teaching the public — insulted by those calumnies — and guarding it against abuse, I despair of it. I have witnessed the utter insufficiency of trial for that object ; I have seen those calumnies estabUshed as clear as any proposition could be demonstrated, and which must have created conviction in the minds of other men ; but vrith the factions of the present day those calumnies, like the hydra's heads, only generate from defeat. Gentlemen, it is found that nothing can stop the propagation of those calumnies, and it has therefore become the duty of those entrusted with the guai'dianship of public justice to see whether — if not the example — the pmiishment will be inoperative. . . . The first asseiiion in this libel is, that his gi'ace the lord lieutenant was not better than the worst of his predecessors ; and then, gentlemen, recollect the comment w^hich his counsel was in- structed to give on this text, and the class of persons selected io explain away this libel on the Duke of Richmond — Lord Straff'ord, who died on the block for his enormities ; the Earl of Essex, who suffered for one of the basest acts of treachery and foulest crimes a man could be guilty of; and some other 312 LIFE AND TIMES OF o'CONNELL. lord lieutenant who authorized Sir Walter Ealeigh to commit a crime at which human natui'e shudders. And here look at the motives imputed to those, than the worst of whom the Duke of Bichn*- ^ is not better: ''They insulted, they op- pressed, they muraered, and they deceived." We will call on your lordship to state the law to the jui'y — to tell them whether, because Mr. Magee finds matter of complaint agamst other lords Heutenant, it becomes justifiable to impute mui'der to the Duke of Bichmond. But the libel stops not here — it proceeds to allege against the lord lieutenant another foul crime — a de- hberate determination to subvert the constitution of the country. It states that he knows well he cannot introduce mai'tial law, but he is directly accused of having provided for its future in- troduction by insuring a military government, by contributing to the erection of ban-acks thi'oughout the kingdom. . . . It states that ' In sho^t, his grace will in no way vary from the uniform conduct observed by most of his predecessors — fii'st preaching to the confidence of the people, then pla^ang upon their credulity, &c.' Is this fair criticism of a pubhc man ? Before the highest tribunal in the country would such language be allowed as fair discussion ? In the parhament would any man be sufiered to say that the lord lieutenant was guilty of murder ? Even the boasted freedom of speech in parliament would not permit it. The public man may be brought by im- peachment for trial by his peers, and the highest punishment liQOwn to the law inflicted on him if he be found guilty ; but I deny the right of any indi^ddual to exercise the censorial power of the people, and inflict his condemnation on the character of r.nother. Says Lord Holt: " The pubhc man is not to be up- held to detestation, which can have only for its object to dis- affect the people from the government, to bring loyalty into contempt, and endanger the public peace." The above ^ill give an idea of Bushe's rejoinder. The trial of Magee was published, as we have stated, in the f .)rm of a book. The preface to this book, written by Denis Scully contains one passage more valuable than gold : "The Englfsh nobility," savs the preface, " is Enghsh. The Scottish uobihty is Scotch. The Iiish nobility is not Iiish." All the calamities of the Irish people originate in this circumstance. " We shall explain ourselves. The nobihty of England is Nor- man to a man. We do not speak of particular families or of extinct titles. There may not be now a dhect descendant of a peer created by William the Bastard — there is not ; but all the peers are either taken f:om the Norman stock, or from blood LIFE AND TIMES OF o'CONNELL. 313 'purified — to use the ciiit of heraldry — by a Xorman alliance. The Scottish peuia are the most ancient and powerful faniilies in Scotland — heads of celebrated clans fi-om times almost im- memorial, and lords of immense tracts. There are many fine historical associations which bind them to then- country and then- titles ; and hence the Scottish nobleman is as proud of his highland bonnet as of his insignia of the thistle. An Iiish nobleman, on the contrary, is, comparatiyely speaking, a man of yesterday. The oldest peers of Ireland are those called Strong- bownians — Fitzgerald, De Bm-gh, Butler. An Irish peer of Elizabeth, James, or William is akeady gi-ey with the honom-s of antiquity. In the peerages of Ii'eland there occur only two Irish names — O'Brien and O'Neil. The Irish peers are not bound by historical associations to Ii'eland as the peers of Eng- land and Scotland are respectiyely to theli' coimtii^B. 'j-Iict are linked to Ii-eland only bytheii' estates. Antiquam exqulriie watrem is the general mandate among them, and is gene- rally obeyed. England is the countiy of the Irish nobleman — it is the seat of his ambition and the scene of his pleasure. He ruled Ireland, when he had the power, with a rod of iron and a scourge of scorpions. AMien she was to be bought, he sold her \rithout shame and without compunction. If the Enghsh minister gaye but the word, he would steep her in blood." * An article in the Dublin Review, ascribed to Dr. Newman, says on this subject : *' If that aristocracy were an ornament to the empire — if it were identified with the Ii'ish people — if it did not despise and hate them — if it were a ' Corinthian' or any other capital — if it enjoj^ed bone fide £16,000,000 rental, in- stead of Lord Mountcashei's estimate, £8,000,000, it would be laudable to attempt to reclaim it, though their whole history proyes that self-interest and terror were the only apostles that could conyert them For a history of this modern Irish aristocracy, the reader is referred to tyvo unprejudiced authorities — Dean Swift and Bishop Berkeley — men whom in- clination and principle would lead to giye a fayourable view. The rigorous language of the first never exhibits its terrible power so eliectually as when rending the aristocracy, who neyer built a mansion on their properties, nor a church, nor school, nor any public institution ; who saw thousands of miserable serfs die eyery day of cold, and hunger, and filth, and famine ; vdio squeezed their rents out of the yery blood, and vitals, and clothes, and dwellings of the tenants, who had neither shoe nor stocking to their feet, nor a house as good as an English 14 314 LIFE AND TIMES OP O'CONNELL. liog-sty to receive them; who cried out to the tenant with Pharoah: *Ye are idle — ye are idle, Israehtes,' when he wanted them to make bricks without straw. All the IrirJi writings of that extraordinary man give the same horrible pic- ture ; and even the gentle Berkeley describes the aristocracy of his time as '' Goths in ignorance, spendthrifts, di'unkards, and debauchees.' " — Dublin Review, vol. xxii. In his defence of Magee, O'Connell surpassed himself. In the law of the case he was invincible ; in the construction of the libel he was triumphant; and in the politics involved in the question victorious. The attorney-general said that Magee was indicted as proprietor of a newspaper. O'Con- nell in his speech denied the fact, and appealed to the indict- ment itself. The attorney-general said Magee was indicted as printer. ^, O'Connell denied the fact, and again appealed to the indictment. The attorney-general said that Magee was indicted for calling the duke ''a mm'derer!" O'Connell denied the fact, and once more appealed to the indictment. The indictment contamed no such statements. In short, O'Connell's speech, which occupied four hom-s in the delivery, remains to his country and his descendants a monument of in- dustry, acuteness, political courage, and the mental 'powers of the admkable advocate. In the solicitor-general's reply there was passion, rhetoric, and legal knowledge ; but the attributes which he usually exhibited in his more felicitous efforts — rich- ness of illustration, polished zeal, glomng imagery, and philo- sophic views, were utterly absent. Though O'Connell — that forensic Jupiter — may be said to have wielded thunderbolts, terrible vrith. the blaze otinvective, in defence of his client — though impartial justice blended with persuasive eloquence pleaded for the defendant, nevertheless, the result of the trial — its only fruit — was to lodge Magee in prison. But in doing this, the government — that is, Robert Peel — forfeited character, because it appeared to act on a principle of vengeance. The external life of O'Connell was in the highest degree stormy — full of tumult and contention — fighting pitched battles with obstreperous witnesses at the bar, and hurling invectives at pohtical delinquents in the CathoHc Board. Nothing could be more tempestuous than his outward career. But the mo- ment he crossed the threshold of his home, the calm sunshine of peace succeeded the clouds and turbulence of contention — the frown of indignation was replaced by the smile of plea- sure — the voices of his children, the endeannents of his \siie, LIFE AKD TIMES OF o'CONNELL. 815 banished his cares and rendered him instantaneously a difierent man. His loud laugh and merry jest — his "quips, and cranks, and wanton wiles" — filled the whole house Vvith pleasure and hilarity. He was the most sociable of men. Surrounded by his wife, children, and guests, he appeared to enjoy unalloyed happiness ; and though he could spare but little time from his numerous avocations to mingle in the agreeable society for vv^hich Merrion- square house was remarkable, still the moments that he snatched from study and passed in the drawing-room were moments of exquisite gi'atification to the friends, young and old, who loved to listen to his rapid sallies of wit, his good-humoured hits, and playful stories. His conversation was replete with anecdote ; and the narratives which possessed the greatest interest were those in which the narrator was personally concerned. We shall give a few specimens. They will show that his memory was prodigious, and that not the smallest trait of character or manner in the numberless persons with whom, in the com^se of his bustling career, he had come in contact, escaped the grasp of his retentive recollection. O'Connell was eminently a raconteur. To relate well, requires a minute and clear perception of particulars, which being strongly impressed on the mind, will be returned with all the truth, force, and illuminated effect necessary to impress the auditor. Facts often appear too highly- coloured when they are but given in the same deep tone in which they were witnessed. Some minds receive their im- pressions of scenery, character, and incident as an iron target receives the point of an arrow, which scarcely leaves a trace behind it ; while others, of more penetrable stuff, take the fo.»m of theii' objects with a depth and sharpness fully proportionate to the force that stamps it. Between these two classes of intellect there is little sympathy; and the possessor of the fii'st will consider as exaggerations of truth and nature, the narrative which reflects the ideas of the latter in the full vigour of their original conception. O'Connell's great sensibiHty, his imprcssionableness, his wonderful power of observation, his wit, humour, imagination, and mastery of language,- were all displayed in the admii-ablo manner in which he related an anecdote. The Irish always possessed this faculty of story-teUing — the most attractive of all others. "The great men of their septs," says Sir William Temple — writing in the 16th ceutmy, "among the many oiiices of their establishment which continued always in the same family, had not only a physician and a poet, but 816 LIFE AND TIIMES OF O'CONNELL. a tale-teller." That story-tellers were included in the house- holds of O'Connell's ancestors is unquestionable; but it is very doubtful if any of the T^m rscAlAise of by-gone ages could tell a tale as well as O'Connell himself. It is very difficult, however, to mRke O'Conuell talk on paper as he talked in real life. The reader would consider the anecdotes related below as cold and feeble could he witness the superior animation with which O'Connell used to relate them in his own house. There the narrator added to the raciness of L'ish humour the high finish of dramatic mobility — the tone, the look, the accent which constitute the merit of a well-told tale, but which will not print. O'Connell happily illustrated that de- scription of a raconteur which Shakspeare has bequeathed to posterity : " A merrier man, Within the limit of becoming mirth, I never spent an hom's's talk witlial. His eye begot occasion for liis vnt ; For every object that the ojie did catch, The other turned to a mu-th-moving jest, Which his fair tongue (conceit's expositor) Dehvered in such apt and gracious words That aged ears played truant to his tales, And younger hearings were quite ravished — So sweet and voluble was his discourse." ''Lord Clare's enmity to Ireland," said O'Connell, ''was once nearly ended by an assassm. In 1794, he was carrying a bill through the Irish parliament for compelling the accountant of the court of exchequer to return his accounts whenever called upon by the com't. These summary accounts would have been very inconvenient to Baron Power, who, as junior baron, filled the office of accountant. He lived extravagantly — making use of the money of the public that came into his hands, and look- ing to futm'e good luck to enable him to reckon with the owners. The bill would have been his ruin ; and after many inefiectual effoi'ts to dissuade Lord Clare from pressing it, he at last re- solved in a fit of desx^eration to assassinate him. So he drove to Ely-place with a brace of loaded pistols in his pocket, and ask^d to see Lord Clare, who providentially was from home. Baron Power then resolved on suicide, and ordered his coach- man to drive him along the North Wall. When he had got to a considerable distance out of town he quitted the carriage, de- sired the coachman to await his retm-n, and walked on alone towards the Pigeon House. He tied his hands together in order to deprive himself of the power of swimming, and jumped into the sea fi'om the pier. It was afterwards remarked aa LIFE AND TI5IES OP O'CONNELL. bl7 curious that he walked off to drown himself using an umbrella as the day was wet. One would think the sprinkling of a shower would not much incommode a fellow who was resolved on a watery death. Think of a man going to drown himself with an umbrella to keep out the wet. Shortly after, Crosbie Morgan, one of the oddest of odd attorneys, also drowned him- self. The ballad-mongers shouted their accounts of these events through Dublin, crying out : ' Great times for Ireland ! One judge drowned ! One attorney drowned !' They had also: 'Last speech and dying words of Crosbie Morgan!' which instead of ending with the approved finish of the peni- tent declaration of Catholic criminals — namely, * I die an un- worthy member of the Church of Rome,' ended thus : *I die an imworthy mongrel of neither church.' " Crosbie Morgan," said O'Connell, ''was a very eccentric fellow. He probably made more money than any other attorney of his time. He had eleven clerks in his oHice, and every clerk was an attorney. Great as were his gains, his ex- penditm*e was greater. \Vhenever ho travelled to Dublin he used to engage all the post-ch^iises at every inn where he slept along the road ; and if he found any gentlemen of his ac- quaintance going to town, ho invariably gave them seats gratis. His own personal suite always filled two or three of the carriages." " Had Baron Power," continued O'Connell, reverting to Lord Clare (a sketch of whose origin has been given at page 56), "murdered Fitzgibbon, Pitt would have foimd much more diffi- culty in carrying the Union. Castlcreagh, although as vile, shameless, and indefatigable a tool as ever corruption had, yet could not, unaided by the commanding energy of Clare, have succeeded so well in the dii'ty work. Clare had great intel- lectual powers. He lived at a period fertile in monsters — Clare was a monster. He was a kind of petticoat Robespieri'e. His father was a barrister of considerable eminence. Old Fitz- gibbon and his brother were the first persons who introduced -the system of reporting the proceedings of the English law com-ts in the public newspapers without the authority of the presiding judge. They were students in the temple at the time, and Lord Mansfield tried to put a stop to the practice, but the Fitzgibbons persevered and succeeded. Clare was atrociously bigotted against the Cathohcs. A Protestant friend of mine, who often met him at the whist parties of an old dowager, told me nothing could possibly exceed the contemptuous acer- bity with which on these occasions he spoke of the Catholics. 818 LIFE AND TIMES OP O'CONNELL. *The scum of the eai-th,' and such like phrases, were the epithets he habitually applied to them." In speaking of his professional recollections O'Connell gave some traits of Jeremiah Keleher, long known at the Monster bar by the familiar name of '' Jerry Keller." ''Jerry," said O'Connell, '' was an instance of great waste of talent. He was the son of a poor farmer near Kanturk, named Keleher, which Jerry anglicised into Keller when ho went to the bar. He was an excellent classical scholar, and had very considerable natural capacity; but although he had a good deal of business at the bar, his success vms far from being what he might have attained had he given his whole soul to his profession. His readiness of retort, was great. Baron Smith once tried to annoy him on his change of name at a bar dinner. They were talking of the Irish language. 'Your Irish name, Mr. Keller,' said the baron 'is Diarmuid ua Ceal- leachair.' 'It is,' answered Jerry, nothing daunted, ' and yours is LaimJi Gabha.'-- There was a gTeat laugh at the baron's expense — a sort of thing that nobody likes." "Another time," said O'Connell, "when the bar were dining together on a Friday, a blustering young barrister named Norcott, of gi-eat iwetension with but slender materials to support it, observed that Jerry was eating fish instead of meat, and by way of jeermg Jerry (who had been originally a Catholic), said to him : * So you won't eat meat ! AVhy I did not think, Jerry, you had so much of the Fope in your belly.' ' For all the meat in the market,' said Jerry, ' I would not have as much of the Fretender in my head as you have.' " Keller made a profound impression on O'Connell's mind. He was a member of a convivial society named "Monks of the Screw," and a boon companion of Lord Avonmore's; and while that judge sat on the bench, his bag never wanted briefs ; but when the chief baron died, Keller's bag was affected with consumption or atrophy. It grew wonderfully lank. He lost his business and sank into indigence. But though the attor- neys could deprive him of his briefs, they could not rob him of his wit. The loss of business seemed to whet his satire, and give more poignancy to his biting mirth. He used to attend the hall of the com'ts with punctuality, and was generally sur- rounded by a circle of laughers, whom the love Df malicious pleasantry attracted about him. His figure and demeanour were remarkable. His hands were generally thrust iiiio the sleeves of his coat, which gave him a pecuHarity of attitude. * Laimh signifies "hand;" gahha, or yow, " a smith." LIFE AND TIMES OP O CONNELL. 319 Looking at him from a distance, you would have taken him for a malevolent litigant from the country, upon whose pas- sions a group of mockers were endeavouring to play ; but upon a more attentive perusal of his co^mtenance you perceived a habit of thought of a superior order and the expression of no ordinary mind. His features were sharp and pointed to the finest edge. There was that acuteness of the nose which de- notes the lover of a gibe. His eyes were piercing, clear, and brassy ; they were filled with a deadly kony which never for- sook them. A flash of malignant exultation played over his features when he saWhow deeply the shaft had struck, and with what a tenacity it stuck to its victim. The quiver of his hp in giving utterance to some mortal sneer was peculiarly comical ; he seemed as if he were chewing the poison before he spat it out. His teeth gave a short chatter of ridicule ; you heard a dry laugh, which wrinkled all his features, and after a sardonic chuckle he darted forth the fatal jest amidst those plaudits which had become his only consolation. Jen-y Keller, as the senior, presided at the mess of the Munster bar, where he ruled in all the autocracy of umivalled wit. When Yelverton received his patent of viscount, he invited Keller, Curran, and Egan to hear it read, and to take their opinion if all was right. He began: ''George, &c. &c., king of the United Kingdom, &c. &c." — and read to the end; and then called for their judgment. Keller replied: *' It is faulty." Yelverton was a most irrascible man; and carried away by a gust of passion, he exclaimed, *' Where is the fault ? I can see none !" and appealed to Egan and Curran, who con- cmTed with him. "There, Keller!" cried he triumphantly; *' what say you now ?" Keller requested his lordship to read the patent again ; and when he repeated, " George, &c., king of the United " ''Hold!" says Keller—" does not the consideration come too soon?" alluding to the viscounty being in consideration of the Union ; whereat all laughed immode- rately — they, however, dined together, and spent the night in harmony, union, conviviality, and glee, " TiU startled morn Peeped blushing on the revels' laugliing crew." A traveller in Turkey has stated that while, one evening, visiting the Turkish cemetery, adorned with vast groves of cypresses, situated near Constantinople on the Asiatic side of the Bosphorus, his attention was attracted by a man dressed in ragged white, with a tattered turban on his head, who had somethmg of the Frank in his aspect. There was an air of 320 LIFE AND TDIES OF O'CONNELL. extreme loneliness and desolation about him. He leaned with his back to a marble sepulchre ; his arms were folded, his head sunk on his breast, and his eyes lixed on the earth. This melancholy-looking man approached the traveller, and addressed him in English? "Gracious God, can it be?" re- replied the traveller. ''Alas!" said the unfortunate man, covering his face with his hands, "it is too true — I am Mr. Norcott of the Irish bar." , It vv'ould not be easy to imagine adventures more disastrous than those of the unhappy Norcott. He moved in Dublin in the highest chcles, and was prized for the gi'acefiilness of his manners and the gaiety of his conversation. A favourite at the Castle, he was admitted to the private parties at the vice- regal lodge. The politeness of his titled associates, v/ho con- descended to win his money, was so charming and exquisite that it gave him pleasure to be pigeoned — he lost money with the greatest good humour. It was rumoured meantime that he was plunging deeply into debt. Still he preserved his ruddy cheek and his glittering and cheerful eye. Upon a sudden the crash came, and his embarrassments compelled him to leave the countiy. He had one friend — Mr. Croker, of the Irish admiralty, who had kno\^m him when he was himself at the Irish bar. Mr. Croker promised to pro- cure a lucrative situation for ]Mr. Norcott in the island of Malta. His Irish friends looked forward to the period when he should be enabled, after recruitmg his chcumstances, to re- tm-n to Ireland, and to reanimate Kildare- street club-house with that vivacious pleasantry of which he was a felicitous master — when to everybody's astonishment, it was announced that Mr. Norcott had left the island, had taken up his residence in Con- stantinople, and renounced his religion with his hat. He had become a renegade, and invested his brows y>ith a turhan. Having carried some money with him to Constantinople, he at first made a considerable figm'e. He was dressed in the extreme of Turkish fashion, and w^as said to have ingratiated himself by his talents into the favour of some leading members of the divan. His prosperity at Constantinople, however, was evanescent. His money was soon spent, and he fell into dis- tress. Letters of the most heart-rending kind were wiitten to his friends in Dublin, in which he represented himself as in w\ant of the common means of subsistence. It was in this du-eful state of destitution that he addi'essed himself, in the cemeteries of Constantinople, to a person whom he guessed to bo a native of Christendom. His condition was lamentable beyond the LIFE AND TIMES OF 0*CONNELL. 321 power of description. His dress was at once the emblem of apostacy and want. He carried starvation in his cheeks, and despair stared in his glazed and sunken eye. The conclusion of his story may be briefly told. For a little time he continued to walk the streets of Constantinople m seach of nourishment, and haunted its cemeteries like the dogs to which the Turks compare Christians. He had neither food, roof, nor raiment. At length he took the resolution of returning to Chiistianity, for he indulged the hope that if he could escape from Constan- tinople he might obtain in some Christian country the means of life. He accordingly endeavoured to fly from Constantinople, aided by some Englishmen who assisted him with money ; but the plot was discovered. He was pursued and taken at a small distance from Constantinople; his head was struck oil— rhis body thrown into the sea. Speaking of his professional recollections, O'Connell men- tioned a curious fraud which had sent him many apphcants who dreamed of participating in enormous wealth, the vision- ary hope of which was excited by the following device: "A smart attorney's clerk who had a mind for a cheap summer's ramble, forged a document pm-porting to be the will of a cer- tain Duke O'Neill who had died cliildless in Spain, having amassed £1,200,000, which enormous sum he bequeathed to be equally divided between all his Irish cousins, bearing the name of O'Neill, within the fortieth degree of kindred. The fabricator bent his course to the north and introduced himself at many houses ; where the plausibility with which he supported his statement gained him a hospitable reception. He also made money by selling copies of the will at half-a- crown each to all such O'Neills as v/ere fools enough to buy. His trick had considerable success ; several sturdy farmers from the north, and a merchant residing in Liverpool, bearing the name of then' imaginary ducal Idnsman, applied to me for profes- sional aid in recovering theii' portions of the £1,200,000, be- queathed them by the honoured defunct. Nothing," added O'Connell, "could exceed their astonishment when I assured them that the whole thing was a delusion. ' Do you really tell us so, Counsellor ?' ' Indeed I can assure you with a sale conscience,' said I, ' that it is all a fabrication ; and if an oath were required to confirm the fact, I could very safely give one.' So away they went indignant at the fraud, and lamenting they had ever put taith in tL ■ tale of the * ould Duke.' " " What a general reputation for dishonesty the attorney pro- fession has got," observed a lady on hearing this. "A very 322 LIFE AND TIMES OP O CONNELL. unjnst one," answered O'Connell. " Attorneys are neither better nor worse than other men. If a man who is a rogue happens to be an attornejs it is true that the nature of his profession affords him facilities for committing injustice, just because it mixes him up in the affah's of other people. At- torneys are often obliged to do harsh things too in pm-suit of the undeniable rights of their clients ; and the profession has become involved in the odium of the harshness." Another of O'Connell's odd stories was about a Miss Hns- sey, to whom her father bequeathed £150 per annum in con- sideration cf her having a red nose. ''He had made a will/' said O'Connell, " disposing of the bulk of his fortune to public charities. When he was upon his death-bed, his house-keepei asked him how much he had left Miss Maiy. He replied that he had left her £1,000, which would do for her very well if she made off any sort of a good husband. ' Heaven blcsj^ your honour,' cried the house-keeper, ' and what decent man would ever take her and the red nose that's on her?' 'Why really that is very true,' replied the dying father. ' I never thought of her nose !' and he lost no time in adding a codicil that gave Miss Mary an addition of £150 a-year as a sot-off against her ugliness !" "Father Luby," said O'Connell, "informed me of a curious escape of a robber from the old jail that stood in Skinner-rov/, Dublin. The rogue, was rich, and gave the jailer £120 to let him out. The jailer then prepared for the prisoner's escape in the following manner : he announced that the fellow had a spotted fever, and the rogue shammed sickness so success- fully that no one suspected any cheat. Meanwhile the jailer procured a fresh corpse, and smuggled it into the prisoner's bed ; while the pseudo invalid was let out one iine dark night. The corpse which passed for that of the robber was decently in- terred, and the trick remained undiscovered till revealed by the jailer's daughter long after his death. Father Luby told me," added O'Connell, "that the face of the corpse was dabbled with paint to imitate the discolorment of a spotted fever." O'Connell often told of Sir Jonah Barrington, the historian, an anecdote which is more creditable to the ingenuity than to the integrity of the baronet. " Sir Jonah," said O'Con- nell, "had pledged his family plate for a large sum of money to one Stevenson; a Dublin pawnbroker ; and feeling desirous to recover the plate without pnying back the money, he hit upon the following device to accomplish his purpose. He invited the viceroy and several noblemen 4o dinner, and then LIFE AND TIMES OP O'CONNELL. 323 went to Stevenson begging he might let him have the plate for the occasion. 'You see how I am cii'cmnstancecl, Stevenson,' said Sir Jonah; 'I have asked all these fine folks to dinner, and I must borrow my plate for this one day. I assm^e you, my dear fellow, you shall have it again ; and in order to secure its restoration to your hands, you shall come and make one of the party. I can ask one private friend, and you, as a member of the common council, are perfectly admissible. Come— there's a good fellow ! — and you knovv' you need not leave my house until you carry off the plate along with you.' Steven- son, dehghted at the honour of dining at the table with the viceroy, lords, and judges, fell into the trap, and went to dinner. Sir Jonah plied him well with champagne, and soon made him potently drunk. At a late hour he was sent home in a job-coach ; his wife put him to bed, and he never awoke till two o'clock next day. An hour then elapsed before his misty, muddled recollection cleared itself. He then bethought Lim of the plate. He started up, and drove to Barrington's. But, alas ! Sir Jonah was gone — and what was much worse, the plate was gone too ! Poor Stevenson recorded a bitter vow against dining in aristocratic company for the rest of his natural life." Some one having alluded to the temptation to amass large sums afforded by facility and security fi-om detection, O'Connell told the following anecdote: ''I knew a person named Baniewall who, while staying in Dublin, was commis- sioned by a fi'iend in the country to purchase a lottery-ticket. The choice of the number was left to Bai-newall, who ac- cordingly selected and paid for a ticket. It turned up a prize of £10,000. He had the most thorough facility for retaining the amount. All he need do was to buy his friend some other ticket. No one could say that he had not duly executed his commission. But Barnewall reasoned thus with himself : * If,' said he, ' my friend had not commissioned me to buy the ticket for him, I never would have bought it for myself. It therefore is rightfully his ; and to put mj^self beyond the reach of casuistry, I'll lodge the amount to his credit immediately, and apprise him that I have dorre so by this night's post;' which honest Barnewall accordingly did. I recollect when I was a younker, my uncle gave me £300 in gold, to get changed into notes at Cotter & Kellett's bank. The clerk, through stupidity, gave me £100, of which £300 were in small notes, and the rest in a £100 note. I pointed out his blunder ; and he, -in a very smiy manner, and without looking 824 LIFE AND TIMES OF o'CONNELL. at the heap of notes, insisted that I must be wrong, for that he never mistook. I persisted; he was sulky and obstinate. At last our altercation attracted the notice of Cotter, who came over and asked what was the matter. I told him I had got i6100 too much. He reckoned the money, and then took off the £100, saying : * Now it is all right.' I begged he would let me retain that note, as my uncle was desirous to get the largest note he could ; and, I assure you, it was with no trifling difficulty I could prevail on the old gentleman to take his £100 in small notes !" "I've got a perfectly new story for you," said O'Conuell to a Kerry friend, ''about 3'our old acquaintance, Mr. Denny — - it only happened last week. You must Imow that Denny's wife, passing a pictm*e dealer's shop in Liiiey- street, chanced to mention that she had six paintings which she would be glad to dispose of, as she placed no great value on them. The dealer inquired their merits, and learned from the lady that they had very good frames. She directed him to her house, and said he might inspect them as soon as he pleased, her husband being then at home. Off went the dealer, and found Mr. Denny at home. He saw at a glance that the paint- ings were valuable, and inquired for how much Mr. Denny would dispose of the lot. 'Why, really, I can't say,' was the reply ; * but how much are jon willing to give for them ?' ' I'll give you a pound for the lot,' replied the dealer. ' A pound? Um — hum ! why, I'd like to consult some one first.' ' Oh, certainly, sir.' Whereupon our worthy friend summoned the kitchen-maid to assist his judgment ! ' Molly,' said he, ' this gentleman offers me a pound lor these six paintings — what do you think of it ?' Molly had no particular passion for the fine arts, and a pound was in her estimation a great deal of money. * Why, sir,' said she, ' I know if they were mine, the gentleman should have them for it.' The dealer protested, of course, that a pound was a most liberal price ; and the bargain was accord- ingly ratified, to the perfect satir.faction of Molly and her mas- ter. The paintings were forth with carried off by the pm'chaser ; and in a few days Mr. Denny and his lady were somewhat startled on finding that he had sold one of them for twenty and another for forty guineas to a connoisseur. Mrs. Denny, panic-struck, posted off to the dealer, and upbraided him with having taken-m her husband. There were fom- of the pictures yet unsold, including a portrait of one of her family. She de- manded a restitution of this, as it could not be supposed of any value to strangers, ' Weil, ma'am,' said the dealer, 'as I LIFE AND TIMES OP O'CONNELL. 825 like to be generous, you may have it back for two pounds.' ' Why you got the whole for one pound !' cried the lady. The Dennys are thinking of an action of trover," continued O'Con- nell. ''But just fancy," added he, laughing heartily, "the sublime notion of callmg up the kitchen-maid to decide on the Tilue of old paintings! Oh! it was perfectly delightful. And the comical chagrin of Mrs. Denny on finding two pounds asked for one picture, as a most generous concession by the vagabond who got the six pictui'es altogether for one pound!" If the following anecdote be chai-acteristic of the habits of the Limerick gentry of a former period, it must needs be admitted that they stood much in need of reformation. Stan- dish O'Grady asked O'Connell to accompany him to the play, one evening during the Limerick assizes in 1812. O'Connell declined, observing that the Limerick gi'and jurors were not the pleasantest folk in the world to meet after dinner. O'Grady went, but soon retm-ned. " Dan," said he, "you were quite right. I had not been five minutes in the box, when some ten or a dozen noisy gentlemen came into it. It was small and crowded ; and, as I observ^ed that one of the party had his liead quite close to a peg on which I had hung my hat, I said veiy politely, ' I hope, sir, my hat does not incommode you ; if it does, pray allow me to remove it.' ' Faith,' said he, ' you may be sure it does not incommode mo ; tor if it did — d — n me, but I'd have kicked it out of the box, and yourself after it!' So, lest the worthy jm-or should change his mind as to the necessity of such a vigorous measure, I quietly put my hat on, and took myself ofiV We may be here permitted to remark that the habit of in- temperance which too generally pervaded the lower classes of society in Ireland, and gave O'Connell so much trouble in carrying out his project of pacific agitation, descended to them from the ranks of what is called the gentiy — a ruined race composed partly of English blood, partly of men of " the pale" — that is, of L-ish who deserted the cause of their country and of their religion, in order to retain or recover pro- perty of which the conGscatory or penal laws would have other- wise deprived them. As the property of the greater part of the Irish gentry had been obtained by open and undisguised robbery — disguised as confiscation — they natui-ally adopted the wild, wasteful, and licentious extravagance of robbers. The picture given of the manners of these "gentry" during a considerable portion of the last century, and indeed down to 1813, by Y/riters whose testimony cannot be impeached, is any- 326 LIFE AND TiaiES OF o'CONNELL. thing but creditable to their *' order." The whole object which "lords" and "esquires" in those days appear to have had in view was to lead a life of what they called " amusement," for which hunting and shooting parties merely formed pretexts. The grand object was the enjoyment after the day's sport — the lavish banquet, the claret and champagne, and at night the supper of highly- seasoned meats, to act as stimulants for the whiskey-punch that was to be drunk until the morning broke in on them. The triumph of which gentlemen were in those times most accustomed to boast, was the number of their boon companions whom they were enabled, in their own phrase, to see '* under the table." Horse-racing, hunting, duelling, drinking, and swearing, were the chief employments of the upper classes in those times. They scarcely uttered a sentence without a blasphemy, and ' went out to shoot each other with as little remorse as ihoy would feel in bringing down a woodcock. The duellist who had taken down his man was- a hero whose fame excited envy. If he exceeded that number, and murdered his half-dozen, his name in the Irish temple of renown was immortal. Is it surprising then if the manners of the upper classes were adopted by degrees among the masses whom they hold in vil- leinage ? Need we go further in order to learn how it happened that whiskey- drinking became so general? Talking away fi-om one subject to another, O'Connell men- tioned O'Leary, who was shot in 1773 by Morris of Dunkettle, neai' Cork. "That man's son," said O'Connell, "was the father of two fine boys. He brought up one of them a Protes- tant, the other a Catholic. The poor children early showed the belligerent spirit of religious hostility. They were always squabbling. The Catholic brother would say: 'We'll get Emancipation in spite of you.' 'No, you rascal,' the Pro- testant brother would answer, we'll keep oui* foot upon your necks !' " Of forensic eloquence, amongst some of his earlier contem- poraries, O'Connell recorded the following specimens. A young barrister who was counsel against a cow- stealer wound up his statement with a violent invective p gainst the thief, who, it seems, had branded his own name on the horns of the. cow he had stolen. "If, my lord," concluded the orator, "the cow were a cow of any feeling, how could she bear to have such a name branded on her horns '?" Another orator of this sublime school warned the jury not to be carried away "by the dark oblivion of a brow." A bro- LIFE AND TIMES OF O'COISTNELL. 327 ther counsel stopped Mm, saying "tJiat was nonsense." "I know it is," rejjlied the unabashed advocate; *'but it is good enough for the jury!" *'I remember," added O'Connell, ''a young barrister who once came to consult me on a case in which he was retained, and begged my permission to read for me the draft of a speech he intended to deliver at the trial, v/hich was to come on in about a fortnight. I assented ; whereupon he began to read : ' Gentlemen of the jury, I pledge you my honour as a gentleman that I did not knov^ until this moment I should have to address you in this case.' 'Oh! that's enough,' cried I ; ' consult somebody else — that speci- men is quite enough for me !' " O'Connell mentioned a case in which he was once profes- sionally engaged — an action instituted by a Miss Fitzgerald against a Parson Hawkesworth for a breach of promise of marriage. " Hawkesworth," said he, **had certainly engaged the lady's affections very much. He had acquired lame enough to engage her ambition. Ho was a crack preacher — had been selected to preach before the lord lieutenant ; his name occasionally got into the papers, which then was not often the case with private persons ; and no doubt this noto- riety had its weight in the lady's calculations. The corres- pondence read upon the trial was comical enough. The lady, it appeared, had at one period doubted his fidelity, whereupon the parson writes to re-assure her in these words : * Don't believe anyone who says I'll jilt you ! They lie, who say so ; and I pray that all such liai'S may be condemned to an eternity of itching without the benefit of scratching!' £3,000 damages were given against him. Ho was unable to pay, and decamped to America upon a preaching speculation, which proved unsuccessful. He came back to Ireland — and warned the prosecutrix ! These parsons occasionally do very cmious things," continued O'Connell. *' Several years ago, a parson at Roscrea, named Hamilton, dressed up a figure to represent himself, seated it at a table with a pair of candies before it, and a Bible, which the pseudo parson seemed to bo intently studying. He then stole out, and fired through tha window at the figure. It was a famous case of Popery atro- city — a pious, and exemplary clerg^'inan studying the sacred word of God, brutally fired at by a Popish assassin. He tried to get a man named Egan convicted of the crime ; but having the temerity to appear as a witness himself, it turned out upon cross-examination that the reverend divine was entitled to the sole and undivided glory of the transaction." 328 LIl J AND TIDIES OP O COXNELL. Taaffe, the winter of a book called a *' History of Ireland," being spoken of — ''Taaffe was a strange genius," said O'Con- nell. He was confined in the prison of Ivilmainham after 1798, and felt himself affronted because he was placed at the prisoners' second dinner-table, instead of the first. If the first table was more honourable, it was also more dangerous, being set apart for those who had been ringleaders in the rebellion, and who knew not, from hour to hour, at what moment they might be ordered out for execution. But Taaffe's vanity so far got the better of his fears, that he actually memorialed the lord lieutenant against the indignity of being obliged to sit at the second table ; pleading, as his claim to the first, that he had fought as often in the rebel ranks as any of the chiefs who sat there, and, moreover, had helped to defeat the king's troops in two pitched battles. His claim was admitted; but he escaped the gallows, which, as times then went, would have seemed an inevitable part of the coveted distinction. His * History of Ireland' is a curious production. Jack Lawless's * History of Ireland' is also an unique specimen of historical wilting. Jack takes it for granted that his reader knows everything — accordingly Jack tells him nothing. But he gives copious dissertations on the facts which he does not de- tail, assuming that his readers know them all beforehand. The style however is clear, concise, and rapid ; and to an edu- cated reader the book is not without its value." Some anecdotes of the rebellion followed this allusion to Taaffe. A barrister of considerable practice, knov>'n for many years at the Munster bar, named Tim DriscoU, being men- tioned, "I remember an occasion," said O'Connell, "when Tim behaved nobly. His brother, who was a blacksmith, was to be tried for his life for the part he had taken in the rebel- lion of 17-98 ; and Tim's unfriends amongst the barristers pre- dicted that Tim would shu^k his brother, and contrive to be engaged in the other court when the trial should come on, in order to avoid the public recognition of so humble a con- nexion as the blacksmith. Bets were offered upon the course that Tim would take. He nobly disappointed the predictions of his enemies. He waited till his brother was brought into the dock, sprang into the dock, and embraced him — remained at his side duiing the whole trial, and cross-examined the wit- nesses lor the prosecution from the dock, invariably styling the prisoner, 'my brother.' He carried the sympathies of the jury eutii-ely with him, got a verdict for his brother, and earned glory for himself. Tim had a good deal of minor cleverness ; LIFE AND TIMES OP O'CONNE^L. 329 but promotion to a silk gown spoiled liim. He was one ot those *Qui brillent au second rang, Mais qui s'eclipsent au premier.' "* From the preceding anecdotes some idea may be gathered of O'Connell's conversation among his familiar friends. It was truly delightful — his experiences were so extensive and his manners so fascinating. Of him it might be said — as Lockhart has observed of Scott — that his notions of hospitality included the necessity of making his intellectual stores avail- able for the amusement of his guests. No man possessed in a higher degree the art of light and pleasant narration. The narrative faculty was with him a natural endowment, carefully cultivated by art. In earlier ages in Ireland the gift was turned to a profession ; and its most eminent professors went fi^om province to province, from castle to castle, and from &ur) to bur) — sure of a brilliant recompense in retmii for the story they ingeniously invented, or the anecdote they pleasantly de- tailed. In modern France this talent, which always obtained a vogue, occasionally made a fortune ; and from French society it has made its way into French literature. The ad- mirable memoirs of Lavalette — indeed all the memou's of the times and heroes of the first Napoleon — evince in every page the presence of this fascinating talent. Speaking of the year 1798, some one alluded to the case of O'Connor, a rebel schoolmaster who was hanged and beheaded at Naas. " He made," said O'Connell, " a wicked speech in the dock. He complained of taxes and oppressions of various descriptions, and then said : ' Before the flesh deca^^s from my bones — nay, before my body is laid in the earth, the avenger of t}Tanny will come. The French are on the sea while I utter these words ; they v/ill soon effect their short and easy voyage, and strike terror and dismay into the cruel oppressors of the Irish people.' When the prisoner concluded^ Judge Finucane commenced his charge, in the course of which he thus attacked the politics, predictions, and arguments of the un- happy prisoner : * O'Connor, you're a gi'eat blockhead for your pains. V/hat you say of the French is all nonsense. Don't you know, you fool, that Lord Howe knocked all their ships to smithereens last year ? And, therefore, O'Connor, you shall return to the place from whence you came ; and you shall be delivered into the hands of the common executioner ; and you *^Tho are Ijrilliant in the second rank, But lose tiieir lustre in the first. 330 LIFE AND TIMES OF O'CONNELL. shall be hanged by the Oh ! I must not forget there was another point of nonsense in your speech. You talked about the tax on leather, and said it would make us all go barefoot. Now, O'Connor, I've the pleasure to inform you that I've got a large estate in Clare, and there is not a tenant on it that has not got as good boots and shoes as myself. And therefore, O'Connor, you shall return to the place from whence you came ; and you shall be deHvered into the hands of the common executioner; and you shall be hanged by the neck until you are dead ; and your body shall be divided into quarters — and may the Lord have mercy on your soul !' The only reply O'Connor made was, 'If you are kind to your tenants, my lord, may God bless you!'" This anecdote led to some discussion on the state of Ireland in 1798. " In that year," said O'Connell, *'my friend, and his two brothers were taken prisoners by a magis- trate v/ho owed their mother £2,000. The worthy justice went to that lady and said : ' If you don't release my bond, I'll have your sons flogged and hanged.' ' Sir,' answered she, ' if you were to treat jne in that manner, you could not extort the bond from me ; and I am much mistaken if my sons have not. at least as much firmness as their mother.' Fortunately Judge Day, who was a very humane man, went the circuit ; and as no witnesses appeared against the , he discharged them by proclamation. In pronouncing their discharge. Day gave the young men a sort of moral and political lecture, in which he congratulated them on their escape, and advised loyal con- duct for the future. ' You have no business to lecture us, my lord,' said he, ' as if we were guilty of disloyalty. We are perfectly innocent, and are quite as loyal as your lordship. Rad our enemies been able to establish any sort of case against us, they would not have failed to produce their witnesses. It is too bad then, my lord, to lecture us as if our conduct had in any respect been censurable.' Day, who was a thorough gen- tleman, bowed and said : * You are quite right, Mr. , and I was quite WTong. I beg your pardon.' Next morning the eldest brother was again seized, and thrown into jtyl by the machinations of the worthy magistrate who owed his mother money. The jailer was a savage brute, and took every op- portunity of tormenting him. One day he came to his cell, and said with a diaboHcal gi'in : ' I've news that is bitter to you and pleasant to me — your two brothers have been hanged, and you are to be strung up to-morrov/ ! Mr. was well enough aware of the frightful character of the times to know that this LIFE AND TniES OF O'CONNELL. 331 was at least possible. \ Is what you have told me really true ?' he asked of the jailer. * Upon my oath, it is,' returned the jailer. 'Then, my man,' cried Mr. , 'before I leave this world, I shall have the satisfaction of giving you as good a lick- ing as ever man got.' So saying he pounced upon the jailer, and v/ailopped him awfully. The jailer screamed, and his screams attracted persons vdthout, who would have fired at Mr. through the gi-ating in the door, only that he con- stantly kept the jailer b.etween himself and the door. Mr. continued to thrash the jailer until he was unable from exhaustion to thrash him any longer. The jailer then went off, and soon returned vAih sixty-eight pounds weight ol irons, with which he and his assistants loaded their prisoner. When ironed he was laid on a bed, and the jailer beat him with a loaded blackthorn stick as long as he was able to stand over him. He then kept him forty- eight hom*s without food ; and when the commanding- officer who inspected the prison ar- rived, he was utterly astonished how Mr. survived the treatment he had received. Finding that there was not the shadow of any accusation against him, that officer set him free upon his own responsiblity. What times I" exclaimed O'Con- nell after he had narrated this incident. '* WTiat a scene ! Tho prisoner thrashing the jailer, and the jailer thrashing his pri- soner ! "What a country in which such scenes could be en- acted!" Everyone has heard of the brave man in Lucian, who took part in a great pitched battle — safely perched in the top of a very lofty tree which grew in the field, where he watched the ebb and flow of victory Avith great interest and even anxiety, safely ensconced in the umbrageous foliage. An instance of this kind was brought under the notice of O'Connell, and greatly amused him. In 1798, a gentleman stationed himself in a house near Eoss on the day of the battle. '.'Although ho did not take the field, he was not altogether unoccupied, for he changed his uniform four or five times while the battle lasted. He kept scouts to let him know from time to time how the fortunes of the day went. Whenever he heard that tho rebels were getting the better of it — on with his green regimen- tals. The next scout perhaps would announce that the king's troops were making head — on with my prudent friend's yeo- manry suit ; and so on, from red to green and from green to red, according to each shadow of veering in the fortunes of the fight." Some one havins; named Pwobert Twiss, who was at one time 332 LIFE AND TIMES OF o'CONNELL. high-sheriif of Kerry, "Aye, Bob — poor Bob !" said O'Connell, " I remember a good hit Ai'chdeacon Day made at Bob. While Bob was high-sheriff, I dined in his company one day in Tralee. There was a riot in the street, and Bob was desu-ous to interpose his authority. ' Oh ! let them fight it out,' exclaimed the arch- deacon. ' No, no ; I'll pacify them,' answered Bob ; and he ac- cordingly rushed out into the street, and set about pacifying the people by knocking down one man on the right and another on the left, cning out all the while, ' I'm the high-sheriii! I'm the high-sheriif!' A fellow who did not care much for legal digni- taries, soon made a low sheriff of him by bestowing a blow on his head that stmmed him. Poor Bob was brought into the house insensible ; but his head when examined was found not to have sustained the least injur}'-. When he revived. Arch- deacon Day congratulated him, saving: 'How providential, Bob, that 3^our skull was so thick!' " Among his reminiscences of bar practice, O'Connell men- tioned the trial of Judge Johnson for a hbel which Cobbett had printed. "It was a curious document," O'Connell said. "It called Lord Hardwicke a sheep-feeder from Cambridge- shire, and Lord Eedesdale a stout-built special-pleader from Lmcoln's-Inn. Johnson's great object was to gain time. He sued out his Habeas Corpus in every one of the com-ts. The last was the common pleas. One of his counsel was Scriven, whose instructions were to be as lengthy as possible ; he ac- cordingly opened by stating that he had eighteen distinct pro- positions to enunciate. Lord Norbury soon got tu-ed, and tried to cut the matter short by occasionally saymg, ' That will do, Mr. Scriven ; the court is with you on that point, so you need not occupy yom- time with demonstration.' ' That won't do, my lord,' said Scriven ; * I must assist yom- lordship with some ad- ditional reasons. I well know the great abiHty of my learned friends on the other side ; so I cannot possibly accept your lordship's concession.' The first day was whoify occupied with stating the eighteen propositions ; the succeeding days were devoted to proving them. The opposite counsel, vv^hose game was brevity, let Scriven run on uninterrupted. When he came out of com't the first day, he said : ' D — n those fellows I I could not get one of them to interrupt me ! ' But he and his brethren succeeded in wearing out the term. Meanwhile the administration changed ; the new government (of 1806) let Johnson off easily. He was not turned ofi' the bench ; but induced to retire on a pension of £'1,200 a-year." Johnson was a " Union judge ;" he had received the ermine LIFE AND TI?.IES OF O'CONNELLT 833 Rs n, reward for coiTuption. He is the author of n, work on the militarv capacity of Ireland to defend itself, which was published under the signature of Philip Eoche, Fermoy. O'Connell having alluded to the knack some monarchs possessed of rewarding their enemies, and leaving their friends unprovided for, one of the paiiy told a story of an Irish colonel who, having fought for the Stuarts under General Monk, was utterly neglected by Charles II. The discontent of the neglected officer was increased by his witnessing the ftivours bestowed by the king upon many who had opposed his restoration. Accordingly, he one day said to Charles: *' Please your majesty, I have fought in youi' service, and got nothing. An't please you, I can perhaps plead a merit that will find more favour in your royal eyes." " What is that ?" demanded Charles. *' Why, that I fought against your sacred majesty for two years in the service of Cromwell," responded the applicant. ''Oddsfish, man, we'll look to it!" answered the merry monarch, tickled with the oddity of the application; and the Irish colonel was accordingly provided for. There was nothing to which O'Connell was so strongly ad- verse as religious persecution. He scouted with indignant scorn the arguments which have been adduced in favom' of persecution. • "Nothing can be more exquisitely absurd," said O'Connell.. " Persecution may make a hypocrite, but it will not make a convert. If a man is already disposed to reject my creed, why I only give him an additional reason for reject- ing it if I persecute him." It was to no purpose whatever that an English fiiend of O'Connell's argued on the opposite side, that as the falsification of coin is rigorously punished by every government, lest the public lose their money ; so the falsifica- tion of religion should be severely punished, lest the public lose their salvation. O'Connell would not hear of it. Nothing could move him — not even the example of Moses, who says, in Leviticus, xxiv. : *'The blasphemer shall be driven out of the camp, and the people shall stone him" — a principle which w'as heartily embraced and rigorously carried out by all the Protestant sects of the sixteenth century. It was argued by the early Protestants that as it is a grievous injury to de- ceive a man in pecuniary matters, it must be a grievous injury to set him astray in religious doctrines involving eternal con- siderations. The government is bound, they argued, to pre- vent this ruinous fraud and deceit. Calvin accordingly pro- claimed that death should be the punishment of heresy. The v^'ews which Calvin put forth, his disciple, Theodore Beza, y Ji LIFE AND TIMES OP O CONNELL. po\;>eiva.lh- enforced by written argumeiits T.-liicb KGcmed irre- sistible. Grotius and Puiiendorf advanced and defended the same principle. Persuaded by such arguments, Bayle declared that heresy is the most enormous ofience which man can per- petrate, and that he who insults the ecclesiastics of the para- mount religion should be deprived of life. In his " Social Contract" Rousseau states that government should prescribe the rehgion of the people, and drive out of the country all those who dissent from the Church. In the opinion of the King of Prussia, Frederick the Great, men who openly mock what the people profoundly venerate are unworthy of tolera- tion. Even the French Encyclopedia, — that fountain of reli- gious indifference — speaks in conformity with these views. It is impossible, according to the encyclopedists, that religious error should conduce to human happiness ; because error is an evil ; and as evil inevitably gives birth to evil, religious eiTor must conduce to the misery of mankind — therefore it should be suppressed by the arm of authority. Some one mentioned Servctus and his extraordinary book on the *' Restitution of Christianity." From this it appeared that the doctrine for which Calvin burned Servetus was pan- theism. God, according to him, is inseparable from nature — nay, w^hat is more, God is nature itself. The Deity, Servetus believed, has no distinct and peculiar existence. What is visi ble and tangible is true ; God is truth — therefore the Deity is whatever is visible and tangible. Calvin, seated in the Council of Geneva, interrogated Servetus, before he burned him alive, on this subject. "Do you maintain that our souls are an emanation fi'om the Divine substance — that in everything which exists there is a substantial Deity?" "I maintain it," answered Servetus, frowning sternly and fearlessly. ''What? you wretched vagabond," screamed Calvin, his brassy eyes gleaming with fury, and stamping the earth as he spoke — "What ? Is the floor the Deity ? Am I now treading upon God?" and he struck the ground again. "Undoubtedly!" Calvin turned white. " According to yom' doctrine, then, the devils themselves contain the Deity ?" said Calvin with bitter mockery. " Have you any doubt that they do ?" replied the invincible pantheist in the same tone of defiance, flinging away all pru- dence, and risking his life rather than renouncing his errors. LIFE AND TIMES OF O CONNELL. 335 Servetus, as everyone Imows, was burned alive by Calvin — a controvertist vrlio loved conclusive arguments. This tale of horror had no effect on O'Connell. Even Ser- vetus, according to him, should not have been punished. O'Connell was an unflinching champion of religions liberty. He never, in the whole coui'se of his life, swerved from this doctrine for a moment. He deserves on this account — if no other — the eternal gratitude of the Irish people. ''Nothing," said O'Connell, *' can be more opposed to the spirit of our Saviour than to persecute for errors in religious belief. In Ireland the Catholics have ever appreciated and acted on this great truth. Our hatred of persecution is as strong as our love of Catholicity. We had in this respect vastly the advan- tage of the EngHsh Catholics. When Queen Mary's persecu- tion forced English Protestants to fly fl'om England, they camo here, and found refuge with the Catholic corporation of Dub- lin." Religious persecution had inflicted on Ireland such ap- palling calamities that its mere mention excited horror in O'Connell. " With the single exception of an expression," said O'Connell, '' once uttered by Dr. Dromgoole, I defy my enemies to point out any other instance in which any member of the Catholic Board spoke with bigotry of the Protestant •religion, during the struggle for religious liberty which that Board carried on under the influence of various feelings, and, perhaps, subject to much intemperance an^ excitement." The imperative demands of business seldom permitted O'Connell to remain long of an evening amongst his personal friends. Leaving his family and guests to enjoy themselves with mu^ic and festivity, he hastened to his study, where he buried himself in his books. The passenger was arrested in his noclL^iial progress by the crowd of vehicles before the door; while the blaze oi light streaming from the windows, and the sound of the harp and piano, and the din of festivity inti- mated the joyaunce that was going on within. But where was the Counsellor all this time. He sat in his sequestered cham- ber, and pm-sued his studies by the light of the taper, scarcely hearing the din of pleasure that rolled above his head. The gay splendom* of the drawing-room and the patient drudcrorv of the study went on hand-in-hand. Nor was it at ni':;ht alone — at the earliest dawn of morning O'Connell- might be seen plunged into the same abstraction. Shell, in his Sketches of the Iriah Bar, says: " If any of you, my English readers, being a stranger in Dublin, should chance, in youi* retm-n on a winter's morning from one of the ' small and early' parties 836 LIFE AND TUIES OF O'CONNELL. of that raking metropolis — that is to say, between the hours ol five and six o'clock — to pass along the south-side of Merrion- square, you will not fail to observe that, among those splendid mansions, there is one evidently tenanted by a person whose habits differ materially from those of his fashionable neigh- bours. The half-opened parlour shutter, and the light within, announce that some one dwells there whose time is too pre- cious to permit him to regulate his rising with the sun's. Should your cmiosity tempt you to ascend the steps, and, under cover of the dark, to reconnoitre the interior, you will see a tall, able-bodied man standing at a desk, and immersed in solitary occupation. Upon the wall in front of him there hangs a crucifix. From this, and fi-om the calm attitude of the person vdthin, and from a certain monastic rotundity about his neck and shoulders, yom' first impression will be that he must be some pious dignitary of the Church of Rome ab- sorbed in his matin devotions. But this conjecture will be rejected almost as soon as formed. No sooner can the cj-e take in the other furniiyure of the apartment — the bookcases clogged with tomes in plain calf- skin binding, and blue-covered octavos that lie about on the tables and the floor, the reams of manuscript in oblong folds and begirt with crimson tape — than it becomes evident that the party meditating amidst sucli objects must be thinking far more of the law than of the pro- phets. ''He is, unequivocally, a barrister, but apparently of that homely, chamber-keeping, plodding cast who labour hard to make up by assiduity what they want in wit — who are up -and stirring before the bird of the morning has sounded the retreat to the wandering spectre, and are ah'eady brain- deeji in the dizzying vortex of mortgages, and cross-remainders, and mergers, and remitters, while his clients, still lapped in sv«reet oblivion of the law's delay, are fondly dreaming that their cause is peremptorily set down for a final hearing. Having come to this conclusion, you push on for home, blessing your stars on the way that you are not a lawyer, and sincerely compassion- ating the sedentary di'udge whom you have just detected in the performance of his cheerless toil. But, should you hap- pen, in the course oi the same day, to stroll down to the Four Courts, you will be not a little surprised to find the object of your pity miraculously transferred fi'om the severe recluse ol the morning into one of the most bustling, important, and joyous personages in that busy scene. There you will be sure to see him, his countenance braced up and glistening with LIFE AND TIMES OF o'CONNELL. 337 health and spirits, with a huge, plethoric bag, which his robust arms can scarcely contain, clasped with paternal fondness to his breast, and environed by a living palisade of clients and attorneys, with out-stretched necks, and mouths and ears agape to catch up any chance opinion that may be coaxed out of him in a colloquial way ; or listening to what the client re- lishes still better — for in no event can they be slided to a bill of costs — the counsellor's bm'st of jovial and familiar humour; or, when he touches on a sadder strain, his prophetic assur- ances that the hour of Ireland's redemption is at hand. You perceive at once that you have lighted upon a gi-eat popular advocate; and, if you take the trouble to follow his move- ments for a couple of hours through the several courts, you will not fail to discover the qualities that have made him so — his legal competency, his business-like habits, his sanguine temperament — which renders him not merely the advocate, but the partisan of his client — his acuteness, his fluency of thought and language, his unconquerable good-humour, and, above all, his versatility. By the hour of three, when the judges usually rise, you will have seen him go through a quantity of business, the preparation for and perfonnance of which would be sufficient to wear down an ordinary constitution ; and you natm^ally suppose that the remaining portion of the day must, of necessity, be devoted to recreation or repose. But here again you will be mistaken ; for, should 3'ou feel disposed, as you return from the courts, to drop into any of the public meetings that are almost dail}" held — for some purpose, or to no pui'pose — in Dublin, to a certainty you will find the coun- sellor there before you, the presiding spirit of the scene ; riding in the whirlwind and directing the storm of popular debate with a strength of lungs and a redundancy of anima- tion as if he had that moment started fi'esh for the labour's of the day. There he remains until, by dint of strength or dex- terity, he has carried every point; and from thence, if jon would see him to the close of the day's eventful history, you will, in all likelihood, have to follow him to a public dinner ; from which, after having acted a conspicuous part in the tui'- bulent festivity of the evening, and thrown olf half-a-dozen speeches in praise 01 Ireland, he retu-es at a late horn', to repair the wear and tear of the day by a short intei*val of re- pose, and is sm^e to be found, before dawn-break next morn- ing, at his solitary post, recommencing the routine of his restless existence. Now, anyone who has once seen in the pi seeding situation the able-bodied, able-minded, acting, • 15 Ooii Lli-E AND TIMES OF O CONNELL. talking, multifarious person I have been just describing, has no occasion to inquire his name — he may be assured that lie is and can be no other than ' Kerry's pride and Munster's glory' — the far-famed and indefatigable Daniel O'Connell. His frame is tall, expanded, and muscular — precisely such as befits a man of the people ; for the physical classes ever look with double confidence and afiection upon a leader who re- presents in his own person the qualities upon which they rely. In his face he has been equally fortunate — it is extremely comely. The features are at once soft and manly ; the florid glow of health and a sanguine temperament are diffused over the whole countenance, which is national in the outline, and beaming with national emotion ; tlie expression is open and confiding, and inviting confidence; there is not a trace of malignity or wile — if there were, the bright and sweet bluo eyes, the most kindly and honest-looking that can be con- ceived, would repel the imputation. These popular gifts of nature, O'Connell has not neglected to set off by his external carriage and deportment — or, perhaps, I should rather say, that the same hand which has moulded the exterior, has su- persaturated the inner man with a fund of restless propensity which it is quite beyond his power, as it is certainly beside, his inclination, to control. A large portion of this is necessarily expended upon his legal avocations ; but the labours of the most laborious of professions cannot tame him to repose; after deducting the daily drains of the study and the courts, there remains an ample residuum of animal spirits and ardour for occupation, which go to form a distinct and, I might say, a predominant character — the political chieffcain. The exist- ence of this overweening vivacity is conspicuous in O'Connell's manners and movements ; and being a popular, and more particularly a national quality, greatly recommends him to the Irish people — mohilitate viget ; body and soul are in a state of permanent insurrection. See him in the streets, and you perceive at once that he is a man who has sworn that his country's wrongs shall be avenged. A Dublin jmy (if judi- ciously selected) would find his very gait and gestm'es to be high treason by construction, so explicitly do they enforce the national sentiment of * Ireland her own — or the world in a blaze !' As he marches to court, he shoulders his umbrella as if it were a pike. He flings out one factious foot before the' other as if he had already burst his bonds, and was kick- ing the Protestant ascendancy before him; while, ever and anon, a democratic, broad-shouldered roll of the upper man LIFE AND TIMES OF O'CONNELL. 839 is manifestly an indignant effort to shufHe off the oppression of seven liundred years. This intensely national sensibility is the prevailing peculiarity in O'Connell's character ; for it is not only when abroad and in the popular gaze that Irish affairs seem to press upon his heart — the same Erin-go-hragh feeling follows him into the most technical details of his forensic occupations. Give him the most dry and abstract position of law to support — the most remote that imagination can conceive from the violation of the Irish parliament, and ten to one but he will contrive to intervv^eave a patriotic ■ episode upon those examples of British domination. The people are never absent from his thoughts. He tosses up a bill of exceptions to a judge's charge in the name of Ire- land, and pockets a special retainer with the air of a man that doats upon his comitry. There is, perhaps, some share of exaggeration in all this ; but much less, I do believe, than is generally suspected, and I apprehend that he would scarcely pass for a patriot -without it ; for, in fact, he has been so suc- cessful and looks so contented, and his elastic, unbroken spirits are so disposed to bound and frisk for very joy — in a word, he has naturally so bad a face for a grievance, that his political sincerity might appear equivocal were there not some clouds of patriotic grief or indignation to temper the sunshine that is for ever bursting through them." On the 13th November, 1813, O'Connell moved in the Ca- tholic Board the following resolution, v;hich at the time created great noise, and produced a world of discussion: *' Having taken into consideration the general sentiment of Ireland, and the j)roceedings of the last session of parliament, v/e deem it necessary to declare, that no measm-e for regulating the ecclesi- astical discipline of the Catholic Chm'ch of Ireland ought to be proposed to the legislature without having been previously sanc- tioned by the approbation of the Catholic prelates of Ii-eland." This resolution was sternly opposed by Dr. Dromgoole. "It conveyed," he said, ** a doctrine to which no Catholic would as- sent — that whatever arrangement the bishops, in conjunction with parliament, should adopt, the laity would be bound to re- ceive and obey. What is this but to ascribe inlallibility to the bishops — to bestow that attribute upon them, even in civil affairs, which is not allowed to belong to a general council, unless when deciding upon laith and morals. Inlallibility does not then belong to a synod ; and I am sure the gentle- man himself will not allow it to reside even in a tiara when he considers it was a Pope that bestowed this country upon 340 LIFE AND TIBIES OF O'CONNELL. England. TLg promulgation of such an opinion by this Board would give colour to tlie charge which is falsely and maliciously brought against us — that we are the mere passive tools of our bishops — that we follow them with the most slavish obser- vance, and that our very religion is in consequence not the religion of revelation, but the religion of our priests." The most remarkable part of Dr. Dromgoole's speech related to the vicissitudes which religion had undergone in England. " At the time that Henry VIII. assumed the supremacy," con- tinued the Doctor, *' the religion of England was Catholic — the king himself was a Catholic ; and on account of his opposition to the new opinions, he bore the illustrious title of Defender of the Faith. The parliament was Catholic, and when this, till then, unheard of proposition was made, it encountered the most decided opposition. The bishops refused to subscribe the oath ; but they were told to take and new-model it at their pleasure ; they did so, and they formed an oath in which the supremacy was admitted ' as far as that right in the king was consistent with the laws of Christ.' This appeared to be an oath that might be safely taken, and stamped by the authority of the bishops, it was universally received by the people. But this one act led to the entire subversion of religion in the country. The only two faithful found were Sir Thomas More and Bishop Fisher. They resisted to even the shedding of their blood ; and subsequent events have vindicated the fidelity which dictated their resistance. Parliament now, for the first time, got into the habit of legislating in religion, and the peo- ple of submitting their faith to lay interference. England by this means was prepared for every subsequent change ; and from that time to this, her faith has continued — according to the opinions of those in power — to veer about through every point of doctrine. During the concluding years of this king's reign, the people of England professed a kind of decapitated Catho- licity, the articles of which were defined and enforced by parlia- ment. Under the boy, Edward, they became Calvinists of the profession of Geneva. In the time of his successor they returned again to Catholicity ; and they professed a species of piebald Protestantism under Elizabeth. In the reign of the Stuarts and the usurpation of Cromwell, they were alternately High Churchmen, Independents, and Puritans ; and during the present dynasty they seem to be quietly subsiding into So- ciniauism." Dr. Dromgoole, who thus spoke, was — as is evident from the preceding extract — the grand anti-vetoist of the Catholic LIFE AND TIMES OP O'CONNKLL. 341 Board. He kept -watcli over the Catholic hierarchy, and took the vvhole body of the clergy under his protection. He was the first who ventui*ed to employ against the opponents of Eman- cipation the weapons which are habitually used against the pro- fessors of the Catholic religion. Men who swear that the creed of the great majority of Christians is idolatrous and supersti- tious should not be very sensitive when their controversial vii'u- lence is turned against them. The moment Dr. Dromgoole's philippic on the Keformation appeared, a great outcry took place, and Catholics were not wanting to modify and explain away the Doctor's scholastic animadversion. He himself, how- ever, was fixed and stubborn as the rock on which he believed his doctrines built. No kind of apology could be extorted from him. He was indeed a man of a peculiarly mflexible cast of mind. It must, however, be admitted that for eveiy position which he advanced he v/as able to adduce very cogent reason- ing. He was a physician by profession, but in practice and predilection he was a theologian of the most uncompromising sort. He had a small fortune, which rendered him indepen- dent of patients ; and he applied himself strenuously and ex- clusively to the study of scholastic philosophy. He was, be- yond all doubt, a well-informed and clever man. He had a gi'eat command of language, and yet was not a pleasing speaker. He was slow, monotonous, and invariable. His countenance was full of medical and theological solemnity ; and he was wont to carry a huge stick with a golden head, on which he used to press both his hands in speaking; and, indeed, fi'om the manner in which he swayed his body, and struck his stick heavily at the end of every period on the gi'ound, which he accompanied with a strange and guttural "hem!" you might suppose he had learned rhetoric on the pubhc streets. He seemed to be a kind of rhetorical paviour, who was laboriously employed in constructing the great road to liberty, and paving the way to Emancipation. The Doctor was in private life a veiy good and gentle-natured man. You could not disturb the placidity of his temper unless you touched upon the Veto — and upon that point he was scarcely master of himself. "Dr. Dromgoole," says Wyse,-- "was a champion of the olden times — he scorned to be deterred fi:om the good work by the disapproval of ' these men of httle faith.' He persevered unto the end — discharging, even in the moment of his retreat from public life, some of the Parthian shafts of long- nourished hatred which he had brandished so boldly in the * " History of the Catholic Association." 842 LIFE AND xniES OF O'CONNELL. earlier part of his career. His latter days were spent with great propriety in the shadow of the Vatican. Finding few ears for his truths in Ireland, he retired to Rome ; but whether to organize an * army of the faith,' or to import a second Rinuc- cini for the modern CathoHc confederacy, has not been ti'ans- mitted to posterity. It was not without a smile that the Irish student sometimes met him in the learned gardens of that capi- tal, maturing, with his accustomed leisure of thought and manner, some new project 'for the salvation of the infidels.' " *'I remember well," says an anonymous wiiter, " years after all discussion upon the Veto had subsided, when I was in Paris on a visit at the house of a friend of the Doctor's and my own, he suddenly dropped in, just after his an-ival from Borne. I had not seen him for a considerable time ; but I had scarcely asked him how he was when he reverted to the Veto. A de- bate was immediately opened on the subject. Some Irish gentlemen dropped casually in ; they all took their share in the argument. The eloquence of the different disputants be- came inflamed, the windows towai'ds the streets had been left unhappily open, a crowd of Frenchmen collected outside, and the other inhabitants of the house gathered at the doors to hear the discussion. It was only after the Doctor, who was still under the influence of Veto-phobia, had taken his leave, that I perceived the absurdity of the incident. A volume of ' Gil Bias' was on the table where we happened to have assembled ; and by accident I lighted on the passage in which he describes the Irish disputants at Salamanca — ^Je recontrois qiielqiie Jois des figures Hibernoises. Ilfalloit nous voir disputer, dc.'* We are a strange people, and deserve our reputation at the foreign universities, where it was said of the Irish that they were ra- tionefurentes." "Be assm'ed," continued Dr. Dromgoole, " that whenever parliament shall be found, with the consent of either clergy or laity, legislating for Catholics in their ecclesiastical affairs, that then the fii'st step is taken which will lead to the extinction of our religion in Ireland. You cannot, no doubt, prevent par- liament from making laws. They may, if they think fit, re- enact the whole penal code. They may order your mass- houses, as they have been called, to be levelled, and your priests to be hanged. This, I know, you cannot prevent ; nor can you prevent their bestowing the appointing of youi* bishops on the crown ; but you can avoid giving any assent or countenance * "I sometimes met Irishmen. You should have seen uswranghng," &c. LIFE AND TIMES OF o'CONNELL. 343 to the measure — you may and ought to refuse going into tlio negociation. There we ought to take our stand. I know there are those who imagine that if certain points were given up, Emancipation, the benefits of which they already anticipate, would immediately follow. One gentleman may be anxious lor a silk gown, or look with eager eyes towards the bench ; another may be sighing for the flesh-pots of the mansion- house, the gold chain, and the mace; and a third may be casting a wistful regard towards the situation of physician to the state. These men must be impatient of delay — they must fret at every obstruction that lies in the way. The situation of these longing Catholics is no doubt distressing ; but they may be assured that the country does not sympathise with them. They may be assured there is not one in ten thousand amongst the Irish Catholics who would consent to give up his Church, or any part of its rights or observances, to the inno- vating hands of hostile legislators for all that is left for par- liament to bestow. The Catholics of Ireland have hitherto resisted fraud, force, and the utmost that persecution could inflict ; and they mil not now yield to gratify the over appetites of those men. But this resolution takes it for granted that parliament is to be again occupied in arranging Catholic ecclesiastical discipline, that the bishops are to contributo their assistance, and that the people are to be silent specta- tors of the proceeding. When the gentleman contemplates the prospect, does he see nothing of dangerous omen ? Does he consider that in that House there is not a member who, be- fore he took his seat, was not obliged to declare upon oath that he considered the mode of worship which the gentleman pro- fesses, to be superstitious, impious, and danmable? And is it to those men that we are called upon to submit the new- modelling of Catholic discipline — to men whose efi'orts are naturally bent upon the extinction of a mode of worship which they consider idolatrous — who annually vote away enormous ^ums of money for this single purpose — who know and have taken no measures to stop the atrocities committed against us because we are Catholics — and who by this means have left L'eland a prey to discord, confusion, and bloodshed ? No, sir ; we might with more security confide the sacred interests of our religion to a Sanhedrim or Divan. I do not say this because they are Protestant ; but I say it because they have taken and subscribed these abominable oaths. The Jew in the bitterness of early controversy, and smarting under the reproach of im- puted reprobation, never brought forward a charge of this kind 344 LIFE AND Ti:.IES OF o'CONNELL. against the Catholic ; and as to the Turk, he regards the Author of our religion as di^dne, and he knows no form of Christianity but Catholicity. No one, then, haying these things in view can call upon us to confide in men so thinking, so swearing, and so acting ; nor will the gentleman himself, when he reflects, be ready to put the safety of his religion to hazard by submitting it to the discretion of men who have pronounced him an idolater. I do not tell him that he has been so deno- minated to win him over by alarming his pride or awaking his resentment. This charge is not brought particularly against him ; it extends to the majority of the Christian world, ].ast and present Popes, prelates, kings, princes, the poor and the rich, the learned and the unlearned — all are alike involved in the sweeping anathema ; it launches its damning malediction against a More, a Paschal, a Fenelon, a St. Louis IX. — against the ancient fathers of the Church, and even against that vene- rable priest who fii'st broke down the blood-stained altars of England, and reclaimed the barbarians who occupied the soil from the worship of Thor and Yv^'oden. Here there is no room ibr confidence. Let us then resume our watchword of simple liepeal. We will hear of no compact that is to take from the altar for the purchase of immimity — of no settlement that is to barter religious for civil liberty. This determination will, no doubt, break off all hope of co-operation with the Enghsh (catholics ; but that connexion is already dissolved. You and they could never concur. AVith them the ministers of vv^orship are as servants, and they would make their altars an object of traffic. The character, indeed, of the two nations is too much at variance to hope for anything like a unity of action or fel- lowship of exerlion. . The English are a money-loving race. They have no business with priests or a mode of worship that may stand in the way of this their darling pursuit. The}^ do not understand why religion should not bend to the promotion of their gains. With such a people jou can never coalesce. The Irish hold their religion dear — to maintain it in all its in- tegrity they have persevered through ages of relentless inflic- tion — they have borne all the violence that the inventive ma- lice of ingenious barbarity could devise ; and whilst the English let go the sacred deposit, the Irish maintained the faith amidst all the storms of persecution — steadfast and unmoved as the rocks that defend their shore, sustaining and repelling the fury of the waves, let the v^dnds blow fi'om what quarter they will." On hearing this speech, and some observations from ]^.Iessrs. 0" Gorman and Finn, O'Connell withdi'ew his motion in the LIFE AND TIBIES OF O'CONNELL. 345 most hancisoine manner. He said: "Everyone of the gentle- men who had opposed his motion had done so from a miscon- ception of its object ; but as he was unwilling the Board should adopt an ambiguous declaration, or even one which, without altogether possessing that character, was from any circum- stances whatever liable to be misunderstood , he should, with the consent of the seconder (Mr. Roche), withdraw it. He had thought that the expressions were such as to prevent every suspicion of his object being such as gentlemen seemed to sup- pose. He could not conceive that what he had advanced could bear any interpretation like that which had been put upon it. All he had intended was to prevent the possibility of any regulation being proposed to which the assent of the pre- lates should not have been previously obtained ; and who would deny that such an assent was necessary ? Gentlemen had said that he had fallen into the measures of government concerning the arrangements ; and it was supposed, too, that in doing so he aimed at the usual reward of such merit — a silk gown ("No, no ! " from Dr. Dromgoole). The line of conduct he had followed through Hfe had given him every title to be free from suspi- cion on this head. Indeed were the Catholics in full posses- sion of all the rights of other British subjects, he had never yet seen the administration under which, as an independent Irish gentleman, he could stoop to accept a situation." The magnanimity which O'Connell displayed on this occasion seemed to be appreciated by his hearers, who applauded him enthusiastically. It would almost seem as if the object which O'Connell proposed to himself in introducing this motion was to di-aw out Dr. Dromgoole, and compel or induce him to pour forth be- fore the pubHc the rich and varied treasures of historic and theological knowledge which were hoarded in his accomplished mind. The motion undoubtedly produced this effect, and though denounced by the learned Doctor as " less the olive of peace than the torch of the furies," the motion rendered more distinct the path which the Catholics should tread in asserting their rights and advancing to libei-ty. During two hours, the discussion was carried on in perfect good temper, to the in- struction, delight, and, we may add, edification of the audience ; but owuig to the defective reporting of that time (1813), the extracts we have furnished afford but an imperfect idea of this valuable debate. Lord Ffrench was among the number present at this discus- sion, but he took no part in it. He was a very tall, brawny, 346 LIFE AND TIMES OF O'CONNELL. massive, and ghastly looking man, with a peculiarly revolu- tionary aspect, with which his character was utterly at variance. He had a long and oval visage, of which the eyehrows were thick and shaggy, and whose aquiline nose stood out in pecii- liar prominence ; while a fierce smile wrinkled cheeks as white as parchment, and his eyes glared with the sphit that sat within them. His manners were characterised by the sort of drawling urbanity which was observable among the ancient Catholic gentry of Connaught. He was not a scholar : and, like too many of his order, had received an imperfect education. His mind, however, was original ; and his deep voice, which rolled out in a peculiarly melancholy modification of the Irish brogue, had a dismal and appalling sound. He spoke with fluency a dialect which he seemed to have invented for his ovrn use, and which was illustrated by a gesture equally wild and bold. He was an ostentatious duellist, and had frequent recourse to gla- diatorial intimations. Pride was his leading trait of character — a passion which caused him subsequently to terminate his life .with his own hand. "While the Irish Catholics held, in squalid streets in Dublin, DSdetings of numberless multitudes who choked the narrow precincts of their obscure halls, the English Catholics held, in the splendour and the blaze of some aristocratic palace in the metropoHs of Britain, a meeting consisting of a dozen or tvv^enty persons. On the 19th February, 1813, a meeting of English Catholics was held in a mansion in Portman-square — one of those magnificent palaces, adorned with costly pamtings and life-like statues, which' the aristocracy of England embellish, and which surpass in splendour and luxury the palaces of Genoa in the proud days of her Dorias — the halls of Yenice when the republic of Dandolo was queen of the Adriatic. There were present, the Earl of Shrewsbury, Lord Clifford, Sir Richard Bedingfield, the erudite Dr. Milner, and the accomphshed Charles Butler, and several members of the proudest families in England. To produce harmony of action between the clergy and the aristocracy — to reconcile Dr. Milner who represented the hierarchy, and Charles Butler who v/as the literary cham- pion of the nobility, was the ostensible object of this meeting. As a consequence of this meeting, a document appeared in print, entitled, "Mulhim in Parvo,'' from the pen of Dr. Milner. An extract will give an idea of this paper, which was ad- dressed to a member of parliament: "As to the exchange you have talked of between the legislature and its Catholic subjects," said Dr. Milner, "I own, it is the most extra- LIFE AND TI3IES OP O'CONXELL. 847 ordinaiy thing I ever heard of, and the proposal of it almost reduces me to despair. In fact, what have we left to give your legislators in return for the common rights of loyal subjects, which we ask of you. We have already, in the form of oathg devised by youi'selves, given our fealty, our services, our purses, our lives, our public prayers and instructions — in short, we have absolutely nothing left to give but our hearts, which we now offer you. This, however, is an invaluable present, whether made to a state or an individual." The miscarriage of the Catholic Eelief Bill ol 1813 — a bill more mischievous to religion than any measure "devised by Cecil, Shaftesbury, or Robespierre himself" — was in a great degree attributable to Dr. Milner — a service which O'Connell repeatedly acknowledged. For that service, which elicited the approbation of the Irish Catholic Board, the severe displeasure of the Enghsh Catholic Board at its scanty meetings in mag- nificent palaces was incurred by Dr. Milner. The English Catholic Board indignantly requested the venerable prelate to resign, threatening him with censm-e and expulsion if he de- layed his resignation. But they did not know the character of the man whom they addressed. Dr. Milner did not flinch before their aristocratic tribunal. He told them that so far as his duty would permit he desired to keep peace with them, and should abstain from noticing their conduct if they abstained from publishing their resolutions — but connected as ho was with a gi'eat cause, it was his duty, he thought, if they pub- lished, that he should reply. Far from withdrawing his name, he appeared in his proper person at then' next meeting. In his venerable presence they resolved that they were "not re- sponsible for Dr. Milner's wi'itiugs," and that one of his pro- ductions, entitled a Brief Memoricdy had their marked disap- probation. "Who are the 'false brethren' you allude to in that writing" ? they asked him. "Mr. Charles Butler," re- plied the venerable prelate. In order to mortify Dr. Milner, a vote of thanks was immediately passed to Charles Butler. Dr. Milner's charge against Butler was pronounced "a gross calumny ;" and an additional resolution was moved and carried : "That Dr. Milner should cease to be a member of the pri- vate board or select committee, appointed by the general board of British Catholics." The real cause of their displeasure was the concurrence of Dr. Milner in the views of Irish agi- tators, such as Daniel O'Connell. Dr. Milner read what an Irishman would probably have spoken — a protest against tho proceedings of the board. "My Brief Memorial,'' said Dr. S48 LIFE AND TIMES OF O'CONNKLL. Milner, *'was published — not on behalf of the present com- pfiny of sixty-five persons, nor of their constituents, they not baing chosen to represent any other CathoHcs — nor does it profess to speak their sentiments. In short, I have spoken and acted in behalf of thirty bishops and of more than five millions of Catholics, whose religious business I am authorised to transact." The five millions alluded to by Dr. Milner were the Irish nation ; and his oftence, in the eyes of the English aristocracy, consisted in his devotedness to the Ii'ish people. It is impos- sible to express the deep indignation which the protest read by Dr. Milner excited in the breasts of his titled audience — one of whom, Sir John Hippesley, by way of answering his argu- ments, proposed to box him. For a few seconds common decency restrained them fi'om expressing the boiling feelings of indignation which were raging vvdthin them — but it was only for a few moments. As he moved backwards towards the door on his retreat fi'om their augiy glances, shouts of wrath burst harshly from the crowd. Then- lordships hissed, hooted, and groaned the venerable prelate — then in his sixtj^-fii'st year — and seemed inclined to tear him asunder as he retreated with pale but determined countenance before the stormy vocife- ration of their sacrilegious fury. Laying his hand upon the handle of the door, he tui-ned and addressed the raging multi- tude : ' ' You may expel nie from this board ; but I hope you will not tm-n me out of the Catholic Church, nor exclude me from the kingdom of heaven!" Thus was a Catholic bishop insulted by a body of Catholic laymen. ''A more dis- graceful proceeding," says Husenbeth, "is hardly to be found in the history of the Church." *'A society of Catholics ac- knowledging then- bishops to be the di\-inely constituted judges and guardians of their religion," said Dr. Milner, '* publicly insult and persecute a bishop for doing his duty." This valour- ous exploit — the " baiting," as they teimed it, of a venerable prelate — filled the English Catholics with unspeakable satis- faction. The buzz of congi-atiTliition which went round the room on the departure of the bishop rose into a laughing roar of exultation. Then' delight knew no bounds. They even ran breathless about London in pairs, boasting of their tri- umphant expulsion of Dr. Milner. "You will soon become good Protestants," said an English gentleman to whom two Catho- lics of nolle rank related their victory; "but after all, let me tell you," added this honest Protestant, "that Dr. Milner is only defendino- the true old Catholic religion," "If," said an LIFE AND TIMES OF o'CONNELL. 849 Irish gentleman who happened to be present, but took no part in the disgraceful proceedings — "if I ever witnessed a mani- festation of heroic fortitude inspired by reUgion, it was upon that occasion." The manner in which the Irish Cathohcs ex- pressed their congratulations to Dr. Milner has been alluded to in page 251. On the very day on which he was hustled out of the EngHsh Catholic Board, the venerable hierarchy of twenty- seven bishops in Ireland, assembled in synod, were passing a vote of approbation of their faithful agent in these terms : "Resolved — that the Right Reverend Dr. John Milner, Bishop of Castabala, our vigilant, incorruptible agent, the powerful and unwearied champion of the CathoHc religion, continues to possess our esteem, our confidence, and om' gra- titude." With such approbation and support, the venerable bishop might well console himself under the puny attempts of a few aristocratic persons to discredit and disgrace him. "I cannot forget," said O'Connell, "though the English Catholics seem to have done so, that this venerable prelate combined the classic elegance of the scholar with the profound learning of the antiquarian and the divine — that he was one of the first who treated on polemics without forgetting the dictates of politeness and the practices of civility, and bore himself through all the excitement of religious controversy with the temper and manners of a gentleman." To show the true character of those aristocratic Catholics and the propriety of O'Connell's censures of them, it will be only necessary to state that they astonished and scandalized the Catholic world in 1813 by forming a Bible Society — an in- stitution which announced, " in its very title," as Dr. Milner observed, " a departure from the Catholic rule of faith." The catechism, torn from the hands of Catholic chikben, was to be replaced by the Bible published by this society, which was to supersede every other pious book. Nothing connected with this unprecedented and alarming proceeding, however, was so extraordinary as to find the respectable name of Dr. Poj'nter — one of the vicars apostolic or bishops of Eng- land — mixed up with it. " Who could have imagined," says Dr. Milner in his pastoral charge of 1813, " that Catholics, grounded upon quite opposite principles, should nevertheless show a disposition to follow the example of Protestants in this particular, by forming themselves also into Bible Societies, and contributing their money for putting the mysterious letter of God's word into the hands of the illiterate poor, instead of educating clergymen — even in the present distressing scarcity 850 LIFE AND TIMES OF o'CONNELL. of clergyman — to expound tlie sense of that word to them." This un-Catholic project was always steadily opposed by Dr. Milner. ''Whatever other prelate," he said, "may connive at these proceedings, contrary to his expressed conviction, the undersigTied prelate hereby once more enters his solemn and public protest against them." The New Testament pubHshed by the society was garnished with short notes, which received the sanction of Dr. Poynter, but did not mitigate the hostility of Dr. Milner. *' The expedient," he said, "is evidently in- adequate to its intended purpose ; and it is evidently impos- sible to add any notes whatever to the sacred text which shall make it a safe and proper elementary book of instruction for the illiterate poor." The Bible circulated by these " Protestant- Catholics" was stereotyped. The ai'istocratic members, who could not say with the apostles, " Silver and gold have I none," spared neither gold nor silver in getting it out. Yet, after all their trouble, it tended to improve, not the souls of the faithful, but the finances of tha waste-paper man. " The plates," says Dr. Milner, " are supposed to have been sold to the pewterers.'* The bull of Pope Pius VII., bearing date 29th June, 1816, in- flicted a death-blow on the scheme, and covered with odium its originators. Eeferring to Bible Societies his Holiness said: *' We have been truly shocked at this crafty device, by which the very foundations of religion are undermined." It was owing to the strange conduct of the English bishops on the Veto question, that O'Connell's resolution was so vehe- mently opposed by Dr. Dromgoole. This idea receives confir- mation from the fact that a meeting of English and Scotch bishops was held in October, 1813, from which Dr. Milner was excluded, and from which a pastoral letter issued, indiscrimi- nately praising the English laity for their "willingness to refer all terms of Emancipation of a religious nature to the judgment and decision of tnen- pastors" — a sentiment which Dr. Milner protested against with great earnestness. " These," he says, "and similar praises contained m the pastoral will most un- questionably be considered, both by the public at large and by the parties themselves, as applying to those leading and acting Catholics who, first under the name of Froteat'unt-CatholiG Dissenters, endeavoured to force a heterodox oath upon the Catholic body; and who, next under that of the Cis-Alpine Club, professed to restrain the usurpation of the Pope and the tjTanny of the vicars-apostolic ; and who, lastly, having formed themselves into a board of finance, have laboured to give secu- rities to the established Protestant Church, and lately adver- LIFE AND TIMES OP o'CONNELL. 351 tised against me in the most affronting terms for saving them from the actual guilt of schism." Dr. Milner alludes pointedly to the EngHsh Catholic aristo- cracy when he says, in continuation : '' Instead of bestowing indiscriminate praise upon the whole of my flock for their late conduct, I am bound in duty to admonish some of the most distinrjuished amongst them, that but for my efforts, and those of the Irish prelates, under God, they would by this time have ceased to be CathoHcs. ' For the conduct wlaich Dr. Milner so severely censures, it seems quite evident that the Catholic aristocracy of England were alone accountable. They cared little for that faith which during ages had formed the only con- solation of the Irish Catholics, and which, according to St. John Chi-ysostom, is the only " source ot justice, the head of sanctity, the foundation of religion, without which no one ever deserved the enjoyment of God — no one ever ascended to the summit of perfection."- "It is pleasing to record," says Dr. Husenbeth,f "that Dr. Milner was always a w^arm admirer of O'Connell. That great man had not yet risen to the pre-eminent distinction which awaited him, when even Wellington became alarmed at his power and influence, and he thus morally conquered Napoleon ; but Milner already appreciated highly his valuable services to his country and his religion, as the following anecdote will show, which the ^vriter himself witnessed. Dr. Milner had presided as usual on one occasion at the midsummer exhibition at Oscott College, and the writer was standing by him afterwards at the ambulacrum, when a fine Irish youth passed by. The bishop called him, and, as the boy was going home to Dublin, asked him if he should see Mr. O'Connell. He replied that he should see him very shortly. " Then," said Dr. Milner, "tell him from me that if he were not a Catholic, I would erect a statue of brass in his honour ; but since he is a Catholic, I will do something far better — I will offer the adorable sacrifice ot the Mass for him, that God may give him every blessing in this world and the next." Every naturalist is familiar with the vampire bat. It comes stealthily, wheeling and flitting over an Indian while reposing in a dozing, dreaming state of half- consciousness — augments his sluggish torpor by the refreshing action of its noiseless vrings — fans and soothes his tranquil somnolency into a heavy and di-eamless slumber. Availing itself of this dcath-liko * S. Joan Chrvs., Serm. de Fide spe et Charitate. •i' " The Life of the Right Rav. John Miluer D.D.," by Dr. Husenbeth. 352 LIFE AND TIDIES OF O CONNELL. lethargy, it gently inserts a tootli into his vein, and quietly, painlessly drinks his life-blood; so that when he wakes, faint with loss of blood, he finds himself powerless, feeble, and ex- hausted — rises with difficulty, staggers a few paces, drops down — and dies. The grand object of the aiistocracy in 1813 was to soothe the people into repose ; and, we regret to say, they found many CathoHcs to further their efforts. On the 19th of June, 1813, a letter, which Lord Donoughmore had written to Sir Thomas Esmonde, was read by Mr. Finn at the Catholic Board. In this letter his lordship seriously ad\ised the Catholics to shut their eyes, open their mouths, and await what Providence would send them. He recommended that policy of inaction at which the energetic nature of O'Connell revolted. *' The parHamentary friends of the Catholics," his lordship said, " had come to a decision not to bring the question before parliament at present for many reasons." Mr. Mahon pressed upon the Board the propriety of passing a vote of thanks to Lord Donoughmore, and declaring their intention, in conformity with his advice, to abstain from urging the Ca- tholic claims on the House of Lords during the remainder of the year 1813. An amendment to this motion was moved by O'Connell. He said that while willing to thank Lord Donough- more, he was reluctant to bind the Board to the adoption of his advice, not to press the discussion of their claims on the Upper House during the current session. O'Connell, however, was defeated — a strong body, led by Dr. Dromgoole, supported the original motion, which was carried by a division of four- teen to ten. From this it would appear that the ofiice of beguiling the Catholics, which had been hitherto filled by Lord Ivilleen, was now occupied by Lord Donoughmore. He unquestionably, on this occasion, led them astray. We are led to this conclusion by a letter which appeared about this time in the Hibernian Journal. In that letter Lord Killeen is complimented on his dignified retirement from the Catholic Board — where, we may add, en jKirenthese, it was impossible for him to remain after the exposure of his barefaced falsehoods relative to the regent's pledge. Instead of retiring with dignity, he had really skulked out with opprobrium. Nevertheless, the Hibernian Journal calls on Lord Killeen " to despise the clamours of the dema- gogue," for " there is danger in his friendship." ''There is, indeed," continues the writer, " no state of intellectual agencjy more revolting to an independent spirit than that to which the tyrannous audacity of the Board, concurrent with the facihty LIFE AND TMES OP O'CONNELL. 353 of your own temper, had long and diligently laboured to re- duce you." Owing to the powerful exertions of O'Connell, notwith- standing the advice of Lord Donoughmore, a new petition, written by Counsellor Philips, was introduced to the Catholic Board. Read by O'Connell, the eloquent language of the imaginative author seemed words of gold issuing from lips of ivory. It possessed so much poetic fii'e and logical force — was at once so simple and so argumentative, that apostacy seemed to feel and even bigotry admired it. O'Connell as he read was frequently interrupted by the admiration of the audience, im- patient to express their applause ; and at its conclusion, the shouts of transport which it eUcited reverberated through the hall for several minutes. The petition asked : " Are securities required of us '? We offer them — the best secui'ities a throne can have — the afiections of a people. We offer faith that was nevei: \aolated, hearts that were never corrupted, valour that never crouched. Every hour of peril has proved our allegi- ance, and every field of Europe exhibits its example. We ab- jure all temporal authority except that of our sovereign. We acknowledge no civil tie save that of our constitution ; and, for our lavish and voluntary expenditure, we only ask a reci- procity of benefits. Separating, as we do, our civil rights from om' spiritual duties, we eai-nestly desire that they may not be confounded. We * render unto Caesar the things that are Caesar's;' but we must also * render unto God the things that are God's.' Om* Church could not descend to claim a state authority ; nor do we ask for it a state aggi'andisement. Its hopes, its powers, and its pretensions ai'e of another world ; and when we raise our hands to the state, our prayer is not that the fetters may be transferred to those hands which are raised for us to heaven. We would not erect a splendid shrine, even to liberty, on the ruins of the temple. In behalf, then, Oi five mUUons of a brave and insulted people, we call on the legislature to annihilate the odious bondage which bows down the mental, physical, and moral energies of Ireland;, and in the name of that Gospel which excludes all distinction, we ask freedom of conscience for the whole Christian world." Speaking of the author of the petition, O'Connell said : "He is a youth whose young heart beats high in the cause of Irish freedom, and whose darling ambition is to serve and exalt his fallen country. His muse has already adorned his native land — and in his first exertions, the promise of his future services is lively, consolatory, and certain. His poetic fancy 354 LIFE AND rilLES OF o'CONNELL. has proved itself rich in the enthusiasm for his country that inspired and ennobled the song of her ancient bards — and never did the soul of Irish chief or patriot bum with a flame more vivid or more pure. In the hour of om' calamity and of our fallen fortunes, he has arisen — a new and splendid light amongst us, to cheer and invigorate our pursuit of freedom ; and in that early stage of his youth, he exhibits those qualifi- cations which will render familiar to the Irish ear and dear to the Irish heart the name of my amiable friend, the author of 'The Emerald Isle' — Charles Philips" (loud and repeated cheers). BIr. Scully made some observations that are eminently con- solatory to Irishmen. He said: "I have remarked that when our cause seemed in its utmost depression — when power frowned on it and apostates betrayed it — when everything seemed lost except our honour — I have remarked that at such a time, as if it were by the dispensation of Providence, some splendid luminary has regularly arisen to cheer and console us (loud cheering). Of the petition I can hardly speak in ade- quate terms ; it is rich in argument, profound in wisdom, and splendid in imagery. I hope the author may long live to serve his country.". Mr. O'Connor moved — "That the heartfelt gratitude of the Catholic Board be presented to the brilliant and patriotic friend of Ireland, Charles Philips, Esq., barristcr-at-law, for the exer- tions by which he has served and ornamented the cause of our common country." "While the Catholic Board-, under the guidance of O'Connell, was engaged in these patriotic toils, the incessant tempest of scurrihty with which he was pelted by the adverse jour- nals of Dublin was formidable if not prodigious. The ex- asperated virulence of their ceaseless vituperation resembled ^a shower of diifting, icy sleet in everything save purity. The vrhole pack — The DuhVui Journal, The Courier, The Corre&pon- dent, The Hibernian Journal, and The Patriot — opened a clamorous chorus of discordant vociferation, which might be compared to the barking of the Cerberus of Yirgil. As an antiquarian picks up a broken and blunted sword which, how- over rusty and pointless in the present day, was not without its terrors in the past, we may be permitted to select from an accumulated mass of verbal missiles the following specimen of the savage warfare of a period by no means remote. The Hibernian Journat for the 15th July, 1813, describes the Ca- tholic Board in the following terms: ''A paltry set of silly, LIFE AND TIMES OF o'cOXNELL. 355 babbling, impudent, ignorant, low-bred declaimers. r.nd dolts, and desperadoes, taking advantage of those laws which they every day abuse, have erected themselves into a second Na- tional Assembly to discuss abstruse and inflammatory subjects ; and not content with this, they send forth from their den of republicanism, through the pages of their hireling journals, not the essence of disaffection alone, but the abuse of all those whose duty or inclination it is to support the laws. Now let us inquire who these are who compose this ' National Assem- bly,' or Catholic Board. We find them a set of disappointed bigots. Not bigots as to religion, for they have none — but bigots as to the happiness possessed by Protestants. They compose a race of upstarts who forget themselves, and by their lofty speeches strive to impose on the thinking people of Eng- land. Look at some of them, who but the other day lived by smuggling and making false Hghts — by placing faggots of furze on the horns of cattle to deceive unwary mariners, who by such means fell victims to the marauders dwelling near rocky shores, and thus enabled those monsters to reap the spoils of their shipwrecked fellow-creatures. Or look at others, who would never have risen above the surface of theu' own mean circle, were it not for the liberality of the present reign, that permitted them to be called to the bar, and thereby entitled them to wear a lawj^er's gown. They would have otherwise continued to sell mutton-chops in their ancestors' stall, or continued covered with slime and tan in then* earliest nm'sery. Such are the men who, with broken tradesmen and pardoned traitors, foam at the Catholic Board and prate of wanting liberty. Could all the Emancipation in the world regenerate such wretches, and make them become the offspring of gentlemen instead of the sons of slaughter-house proprietors? . . . We find the prominent favourite at the Board is the late Catholic petition. This petition, it is true, is full of well-fancied metaphor; it abounds in w^ell-rounded periods — winning, courteous appeals — all com- bining a mass of great literary taste and composition. But all this will not suit the close-reasoning English logician. He will soon discover the great want of reasoning for which this com- position is remarkable, and say it is an appeal to the passions and not to the senses. Its flowing and misguiding brilliancy will be readily seen through, and where success was expected from an artful appeal to the passions, defeat will be met with from the influence of good sense and sound judgment on tha miqds of those to whom it is to be presented for mature delibera- tion. Can there remain any doubt as to what the Catholic 356 LIFE AND TIMES OF O'CON-XELL. Board are labouring to effect ? It is in vain to conceal it ; their works, their actions, and their looks bespeak what it is, as do also their conduct towai^ds Mr. Grattan and their thanks to Dr. Milner. It is the establishment of their ovm rehgion over that of the Protestants, and a connexion with France. These are the ulterior objects they have in view ; and hence they abuse such characters as the niild, the humane — but the loyal, the intrepid William Saurin, his majesty's attorney-general." The scurrihty which was showered on the Cathohc Board was provoked by the seiwices which it rendered to the Catholic cause. The control which was exercised in it by O'Connell through his speeches, and by Scully thi'ough his writings, proved in the highest degree beneficial to the Cathohcs. It gave a oneness to their action which had not been known in Ireland for centuries. This was its ofience in the eyes of the aristocracy. " No nation, however small," says Yegetius,- '' can be crushed and swept away by its enemies if it only ab- stain from consuming its own strength in the fatal and acri- monious wrangling of internal conflict." The Cathohc Board prevented internal conflict, and interdicted violence by holding out hope. Prudence v>-as the characteristic of the Cathohc Board; and the "science of politics," says Thomas Aquinas, " belongs to the category of pmdence." It was not precisely a government, nevertheless it exercised many of the functions of an executive — it levied contribution and exacted obedience — and it is obedience which makes government. It did not, like the United Irishmen, make war ; but it did better — it or- ganized preparations which, were physical force resorted to, would convert war into victory. "In war," says Napoleon, " nothing is so important as the commissariat." The primary object in war is not to kill yom* foe so much as to feed yourself. Now the Cathohc Board, regulating, suggesting, and presiding, might be considered as a prospective commissariat to a contin- gent national army. Hence the clamours of the dominant press for the suppression of what they termed '• the O'Connell junto" — " the Scully gang !" " The Courier proceeds to ask," says the Evening Post in 1813, "why does the government suffer itself to be bullied by this Popish assembly. We shall tell the Courier. Because government cannot help itself. "^Tiat can the Duke of Eich- mond do more than his grace has done ? He had state trials, and convictions, and speeches — the Committee became a Board and walked out of the Convention Act, even as construed by * De re MUit., 1. 3, c 10. LITE A^^) TDIES OF O COJ^'NELL. S5 7 the king's bench. Everyone laughed at li.,; attomev-aener;;]. with all his wisdom — and, truth to say, the attorney- general deserved to be laughed at. ' Your grace,' said Mr. Saurin to the duke, ' I"ll put down this Committee by the Convention Act.' * Do so, jlr. Attorney,' said the duke. Accordingly the chief justice issued his warrant ; the delegates were seized ; the crown- sohcitor's ofiice was in a bustle for a whole month di-awing up informations and preparing lists of Orange jurors — and what was the consequence ? An acquittal, a conviction, and the conversion of the Committee into a Board. This is the governmental way of extinguishing a public body. There is one way, we own, of putting down the Catholic Board — we mean the mode so successtuUy practised by the Orangemen in Belfast. Put arms into the hands of a corps of Orange linen-weavers. Let them go into the Stationers' Hall when the Catholics are assembled — and shoot them all ! The loyal men in the north — those under the protection of the government — may do so in defence of church and state/' The labours of OConnell and Scully in the Catholic Board produced, in 1813. an awakening of Catholic coimties pre- viously comparatively dormant. In those districts the agita- tion traversed a wide and brilliant orbit, which shed a new light upon the feelings of the Catholics, cheered and invigorated the people, and startled and alarmed their foes. County after county held meetings, thereby diffusing ideas, making converts, and confirming and establishing patriotic principles. The cur- rent, whose surtace had been long congealed, broke up and threw off its icy crust, and leaped into rushing activity. The Evening Post (1813) alludes to the fact in these words : '• We are f;lad to find that the counties are alive to the great iuterests of Catholic Ireland, and that they are manifesting a readiness upon which we calculated in following the recoromendations of the Catholic Board." At a meeting held in Waterford, Scully made a speech, in which he said : '"The term euiancipution is of Eoman origin, and originally signified the manumission of those unfortunate persons who were in a state of slavery : and who, by this act, were immediately rendered eligible to the enjoyment of every civil and military office, in common with those who had been bom of free parents or citizens of the state. Thus had the Roman slave, when raised to the enviable situation of a free citizen, an incalculable advantage over the Irish Catholic slave of the present day ; and therefore the propriety of the term emancipation, both in signification and etymology, was made 358 LIFE AND TIMES OF O'OONNELL. evident. Among the beneficial efi'ects vrliicli would result to the Catholics of Ireland from Emancipation, the least would not be that they would no longer be ridden over by the corporations. In many of those corporations the mayor was as absolute as the Dey of Algiers. He might possess himself of the public mone}-, and, instead of expending it in a manner suitable to the origi- nal intention, might appropriate it to his own individual use, or di-^ide it among his fellows in iniquity for such a length of time that all recollection of its origin would be efiaced." At a meeting held in Mayo in the same year (1813), Coun- sellor Fiiilay, a Protestant, made some admirable remarks. "You tried the efiect of silence," he said, "and experience decided against its use. For ten years no voice in the empire disturbed the government with, reference to Emancipation. From 1795 to 1805, session after session passed on — the Ca- tholics said nothing to parliament, and parliament did nothing for the Catholics. Why did they give you nothing ? The reason is plain — because 3-0U said nothing. Your silence was termed assent. Y''ou were first told, 'you shall be slaves be- cause you are silent ;' and now, you shall be slaves * because you are not silent!' Your silence is a cause for continuing ' the code ;' and your remonstrance is a cause for deferring its repeal. If this be a cause for delaying the Emancipation of the Ii'ish Catholics, it should not be a cause for delaying tho Emancipation of the English Catholics-. They are, as the go- vernment would ad\ise you to be, passive and uncomplaining — as humble in their phrase as tyranny could desire. They dis- turb not, they arraign not any faction in the state. They neither embaiTass the councils of the minister nor the con- science of the king. They exert their ingenuity, they employ their talents in effusions of gratitude lor the blessings of tho constitution which gives them leave to live. They deal not in the language of ofience or remonstrance. Cringing, cowering, and complimenting, they receive a blow as others would a favour ; fend, whilst yet staggering, they stammer forth a com- pliment to the energy of the arm that bends them to the earth. They grasp in gratitude the knees of tyranny, and place upon their head the foot that spui-ns them. They do nothing, they say nothing — and they f/et nothhui.'' At the same meeting CounselTor Philips alluded to O'Con- nell in the tollowing words : "I trust the petition will put an extinguisher on the apostates from the cause of their countiy. Most sincerely shall I thank the hour in which I wrote it, if it does BO. It will bind, if poBsible, more closely to my heart LIFE AND TIMES OP O'CONNELL. 859 the inestimable friend at whose request it was composed. I cannot speak of O'Connell without doing myself an injuiy — no one can do itT Every heart in his country so throbs at his name, that no tongue is capable of doing him justice. Catho- Hcs, he speaks to you as you ought to be spoken to — he has too great a respect for your understandings to flatter you both at the expense of your dignity and your interest. What is the consequence ? The whole body of the Catholic trimmers — for I will say it, the very basest of that species is to be found in your own body — the whole clan of them, pensioners and expectants, the leeches of place and the apostates of patriotism — all fling upon O'Connell the slanders of malevo- lent tongues. For my part, I declai-e before God I have a higher respect for the open, manly, avowed Orangeman than for those abominable pretenders v.'ho would traflic in your misfor- tunes and betray you with a kiss. . . . The repeated dis- cussion of your cause has, at this moment, convinced every- one who has not an interest in opposing you ; and there is not in the ranks of your enemies a single creature who has the faculty of reasoning. I know well there are still some security men — a set of beings whom nothing could convince. How often have I seen an assemblage of those legislative worthies devising * securities' over the orgies of the punch-bowl ; their minds, like their favoui'ite beverage, a medley of mawkish and \dtiating contradictions, and their few ideas coui'sing one ano- ther, mid the most ludicrous collision, through the fumes of their intoxication. How often have I seen them — their hand grasping the jug and their minds grasping the constitution — • hiccuping contusion to Christ for the sake of the Church, and drowning their own memories out of compliment to King V/iliiam's ! These are the animals who clamour for securities — these are the creatui-es before whose fantastic and besotted shrine five millions of human beings are asked to sacrifice their liberties ! ' Give us securities ?' We ofier our lives ! ' Give us securities ?' We ofl'er our properties ! ' Give us securities ?' Take our dearest ties on earth — our wives and children! ' Give us securities ?' Take our oaths ! Still, still they bellow out, * Securities !' Catholics, give them no securities at all, since they will not take even the God of heaven as the trustee of your allegiance. I rejoice that that motley compound of oaths and penalties, the Security Bill, has been scouted by all par- ties ; the people of Ireland have not been sufiering centuries of death and persecution for the purpose ot putting on at last a piebald garment of rags and tinsel, which could only add to SeO LIFE Am) TIMES OF O'CONNELL. their wretchedness the ridicuie of ostentation. That prodi- gious coalition, the memorable committee, may put it out of theu' heads that you will be content with huckstering up half- a-dozen peers for the political Rialto,'- or allow yom' prelates to be di'agged, with a halter round their necks, to the vulgar scrutiny of every village tyrant. And for what ? Why, in order to enrich a few political traders, and distil, through some state alembic, the miserable rincings of an ignorant, a decay- ing, and a degenerate aristocracy. . . The mind of Ireland is on its march, and who shall stay it ? They might as well set boundaries to the shoreless air, or command the move- ments of the majestic ocean, as either prescribe or oppose its progi'ess. Grand, lucid, and resistless, the splendid orb rolls on its com-se rejoicing — its path paved with stars! its goal — eternity!" The wide diffusion of Catholic agitation was the most re- markable feature in the Irish history of 1813. That agitation embraced in its sweep a large segment of the smface of the island. It burst up everywhere in the shape of numerous and enthusi- astic meetings — in Clare, Carlow, Cork, Ivilkenny. An air of cultivated intellect, a spirit of untameable liberty, pervaded the speeches and resolutions of the Catholics of lulkenny, which rendered them alarming to the aristocracy and encom'aging to the populace. The tone of manliness and energy, indepen- dence, and even defiance, which characterized them reflected the highest honour on the eloquent inhabitants of '* the Marble City." They said: "Resolved — That the existence of the penal laws renders us a people alien and outcast from the pri- vileges and freedom of the English constitution ; that this free constitution of England is to us more a subject of insulting and injurious mockery than of benefit and pride ; that relatively to us it is a code of partial and oppressive enactments, and not a system of equal and cherishing law ; that living, therefore, under the crown, but not under the constitution — a degi'aded race — we feel ourselves in a more debased condition than the slaves of an absolute monarchy, where tyranny is not the por- tion of the few but of all ; that it is oui* duty as well as our glory to struggle against this bondage; that we will not be willing slaves ; that we know om' religion not to be the reason but the pretext of hypocritical tyranny for enslavement. England may oppress but shall not dupe us. Resolved, there- fore — that it is a wise and manly poHcy to proclaim our slavery to Europe in the most distinct manner possible, and that for * The Rialto was the money.market of Venice. LIFE AND TIMES OP O'CONNELL. 361 this purpose the measure of applying to the Spanish Cortes met our most decided approbation. If we suffer, at least let Eng- land be put to shame. Resolved, * That ^Ye congratulate our fel- low-countrymen of all ranks and classes upon the approaching deliverance of Ireland from the tantalizing and intolerant admi- nistration of the Duke of Richmond. Ireland has never known so mischievous a system, and can never know a worse. May the merited odium which pursues him warn his successors against trampling on the sacred right of petition ; outraging the feelings of a good and gallant people ; or ministering to the base • arts of intrigue, intolerance, and injustice. Resolved, ' That Daniel O'Connell, Esq., is eminently entitled to om- gratitude and applause for his many and precious services rendered to the Catholic cause and to his country, his faithful performance of his duty in the Catholic Board, his unshaken constancy in watching over the interests of Ireland, his early opposition to the humiliating bill lately proposed in parliament, his intrepid development of the Crimea and treasons of the Orangemen, and finally the dignified, eloquent, and unparalleled oration which he pronounced, on the 27th July, in defence of the vir- tuous and patriotic John Magee.' We hold that oration to be of inestimable value, and singularly calculated to control the part'lalities of the bench, to shame and stigmatize the bigotry of a selected jury, and to rebuke into native insignificance the vain and vulgar law officer who shall hereafter invade a free press or vilify an injured nation." An uncommon efi'ect was produced by the preceding re- solutions. The Orangemen denounced them, the patriots eulogised them — all classes discussed them ; and finally the government prosecuted the Evening Post for publishing them. The aiistocracy seemed paralyzed -^dth dismay, while the vitu- peration of the Orange jom-nalists resembled the ravings of insanity. Every slave of power was stung to madness — every enemy of liberty was mortally offended. Concentrated by sagacious organization in Dublin, and spread in its ramifications far and wide over the surface of the island, the power of the Catholic Board was growing for- midable to the oppressors of Ireland ; and in the dark cham- bers of their satanic complots, its destruction was secretly de- termined on. In order to effect this nefarious purpose they removed the Duke of Richmond who was a political ruffian, to make room for Viscount Whitworth who was a political swindler. In every period of Irish history the English aristocracy, since Henry II., have employed two modes of governing Ireland. 16 362 LIFE AND TIMES OF o'CONNELL. When she put forth her power in battle, they crushed her with armed torce ; . when she manifested intellectual energy in peace, they swindled her by diplomatic fraud. Killed by soldiers or cheated by MachiaveHsts, the Irish were bruised, crushed, and ground, as it were in a mortar, by the cruel and alternate action of the cunning which svv-indles and the violence which over- whelms. While the Catholic Board was weak, a great parade of military apparatus was manifested by the dissolute Rich- mond — soldiers swarmed in the streets, barracks rose in every district. But when, fostered by the soHcitude of O'Connell, the Catholic Board assumed gigantic proportions, the tortuous « craft of the serpent was substituted for the rushing violence of the boar. This is ever the case. When Ireland heaves and tosses in her agony — when she struggles and threatens to break loose from the British connexion, and cannot be struck dead, some veteran diplomatist — hoary in wiles and stratagem, prac- tised in craft and subterfuge — some Shylock of the cabinet — some Chesterfield or Heytesbury — is sent over to act as viceroy. This is the invariable remedy for Irish discontent. The strength which refuses to be put down by force, is hoaxed and disarmed by Ulyssean cunning. On the 27th August, 1813, the Duke of Richmond left Ire- land. He was succeeded by Viscount Whitworth, who arrived in Dublin a few days subsequently. Since the time of Ches- terfield the atheist, so wily a trickster as Whitworth the viscount had not appeared in Ireland. He was full of those ''crooked counsels and dark politics," which may be termed the knavery of statesmanship. Under his administration, and owing to his unscrupulous craft, the Catholic Board was slowly- seized with peculiar inertness — though it was not killed, it received a paralytic stroke. It was benumbed ! Precisely as Chesterfield broke down the " undertakers,"* Whitworth broke down and swept away the Catholic Board, The state of Ireland in the time of Chestei-field was the most extraordinary in the world. The Beresfords and the Ponsonbys, the Fosters and the Wellesleys — the "undertakers" were the rulers of Ireland. The power of " the great families" was su- preme. That power commenced in treacheiy, gi'ew in perfidy, and became adult in persecution. While that power flourished in all its guilty magnitude, the English go7ernment was not able, were it even willing, to adopt any plan calculated to re- * The leading members of the Irish aristocracy— the fitzgeralds, Pon- sonbys, and Beresfords— undertook in the last centurj^ to govern Ireland for tiie king. They were consequently termed " undertakers." LIFE AND TIMES OP O'CONNELL. 363 conciie the Irish people. Every step taken by the government was with the permission of the garrison, on whom rested its sole dependence for the maintenance of its ill-gotten and mis- chievously-exerted power. Nothing could be more horrible or heartrending than the squalor, degradation, and misery into which the Ii'ish people were plunged by these " great families." Berkeley and Swift have described that misery in language which will never be forgotten while the Irish nation lives. Chesterfield was no friend to Ireland ; but the Scotch rebellion menaced the throne of England with destruction, and com- pelled the atheous diplomatist to speak plainly. He saw clearly and announced boldly that the Irish aristocracy was the disgrace and calamity of Ii-eland. He did more — he taught his English brethren to regard those titled ogres with sus- picious aversion. From motives of jealousy rather than of jus- tice, England first weakened and finally destoyed the organized oppression of the " undertakers." Their extinction was sought by good and bad means — by the Septennial Bill and the Act of Union. Britain weakened the Ii'ish oligarchy by the Septennial Bill; and by the Act of Union, which swept away their cor- rupt traffic in boroughs, she crippled their power. The chains of Ireland — the penal laws — which were riveted by the Irish ai'istocracy, could only be removed by their dissolution. As in the eighteenth century Chesterfield came to Ireland to undermine the power of oui' great oppressors — the Ponsonbys and the Fitzgeralds — so, in the nineteenth century, Whitworth came to Dublin to subvert the power of our gi-eat liberators — the O'Connells and the Scullys. Scully, in the Evening Post, addressed Whitworth in a series of powerful letters on the vices of his immediate predecessor. He painted the revolting vice of drunkenness, to which Eichmond was addicted, in startling colours. *' The English aristocracy," he said, *' seldom sought for talent as a qualification for the viceregal throne of Ireland. They were long in the habit of deputing a Kinri Log to govern us. They either sent us a viceroy without brains, or one who was notorious for the habitual vice of putting an enemy into his mouth to steal away his intellect. Private vices transferred into public station, become the just subject of public scandal; for they are the necessary object of public obsei-vation and necessary causes of mischief. The man who is sottish to- night will be stupid to-morrow. The man who is sottish every night will be stupid every day. A sottish habit creates a stupid mind. The understanding becomes clouded with the fumes of inebriety. A lazy, drowzy, careless disposition is generated. 364 LIFE AND TIMES OF O'CONNELL. The mind as it were evaporates, and the intellect is qnenched when the body is soaked m intoxication. Icrnorance, inebriety, or both, have been too often the characteristics of Ireland's chief governors. Northington, Townsend, Rutland, or Rich- mond were distinguished for nothing so much as for thirst ! Ignorance about Ireland is the bane of her viceroys. A faction that prospers on the calamities of the country, surrounds him the moment that he touches our shore, hurries him in a close carriage from the beach to the council chamber, and cages him in the Castle for the rest of his administration. This corrupt cluster never lose sight of him at home or abroad, in business or recreation, at a sermon or a play, on a visit or a tour. Move how or where he will, like Saturn, his ring still surrounds him. By dragoons they keep off the people from his view ; with their intrigues they keep off the gentry from his person. Residing in the Castle he, as it were, lives in an island, and they keep him in ignorance of the community that smTounds him. That faction treats our viceroy as they would a prisoner. They surround him at his landing, inclose him at the Castle, escort him through the country, nor ever lose sight of him, nor leave him at large, till they are required to return him to the commander of the yacht, and exchange his excellency for his successor. At that time the question was not how Ireland should be governed — but which of the factions should govern the governor. Before the administration of Chesterfield, and down to that of Townsend, the viceroy was the creature of some faction in the aristocracy. The viceroy was no more than a regal puppet, whose movements were entnely regulated by some aristocratic juggler behind the cm*tain." All this was perfectly applicable to the stupid Richmond, but did not at all apply to the wily Whitworth. The very boldest of his detractors shrank from accusing Whitworth of any deficiency in talent. Indeed talent was necessary to his mission. He came to Ii'eland to put down O'ConneD, and proved in his nefarious way as able as the Agitator. Dur- ing the most pregnant portion of Europe's eventful history Whitworth had been accustomed to reconcile the jarring in- terests of powerful states, and tear asunder the harmonious arrangements of national coalitions. He contended in the field of diplomatic chicane with the unprincipled Talleyrand, with Romanzoff, with Bernstorff' and Segur. He had spent his life in diplomacy, and represented at Warsaw, Petersbm-gh, Copenhagen, and St. Cloud, the power and influence of Britain. Whitworth, it was alleged, had been concerned in the parti- LIFE AND TDIES OP o'CONNELL. 865 tion of Poland and the annexation of Dantzic. He it was who first caused a Russian fleet to anchor in the Downs, and a Russian army to march into the plains of Italy. At a subse- quent period he had contended, however unequally, with the intelligent diplomacy of the victorious ruler of France. This was the man who succeeded the inebriate Richmond, and who hoped to effect, by scheming and deceit, what his prede- cessor failed to accomplish by open force and rude violence. He was, in short, an ambassador, and one of those whom the poet denounces, as *' Calm thinking villains, whom no faith can fix, Of crooked counsels and dark politics." So numerous are the crimes with which ambassadors in all ages have been charged, that it would be tedious and even painful to enumerate them. Then- name is legion. One of the lightest, but the most common of their alleged offences, is that of corrupting the fidelity of ministers and servants of the monarch in whose court they reside, and seducing them by the irresistible attractions of gold to beti^ay the state secrets of theii- master. As it is the duty of soldiers to kill for the good of theii' king, so it seems the duty of ambassadors to cheat for the advantage of their country. Though nothing can be imagined more opposed to the mutual obligations of mankind — nothing more nefarious or dishonourable than to purchase perfidy and suborn treason — nevertheless such prac- tices in a diplomatist have had their apologists. Hemy IV. said on one occasion : ** An ambassador is bound to employ corruption to ferret out intrigues and complots prejudicial to his master's interests." Fraud, in short, seems to be a necessity in diplomacy. Thus ambassadors have been accused of fomenting conspiracies, fostering rebellions, and privately caballing for the distraction and overthrow of the state in which they reside; and the question whether ambassadors who thus outrage the rights of nations are not liable to imme- diate punishment, has been often mooted but never satisfac- torily answered. The fact is, that a shroud of impenetrable darlmess is usually drawn by the guilty hands round these complots, so as to baffle evidence and render conviction impos- sible. The minister of a foreign power, who is not amenable to the law of the land, may be regarded as a licensed conspi- rator, as he cannot be subjected to those judicial formaUties which would rend the veil and expose his secret intrigues. — Thus, when a secret conspiracy was organised by the Spanish 366 LIFE A^^D THIES OF O'CONNELL, ambassador in France, and discovered by the Duke of Orlean^^ the latter contented himself with placing the Spaniard mider arrest — seizing his papers, and ordering him to quit the king- dom. The Venetian aristocracy did not even do so much when they unveiled a similar conspiracy, which was fostered if not founded by the Marquis de Bedmar. Those prudent patricians merely besought him to quit the repubHc, lest the populace, who regarded him as the soul of the conspiracy, should in their blind fury lay violent hands on his excellency. Even the crime of poisoning or assassinating the monarch in whose territory he resides, has not been always — when per- petrated by an ambassador — visited with the punishment which an atrocity so enormous justly merits. Such are the crimes of ambassadors, and Whitworth had been all his life a member of such an embassy. When an ambassador becomes a viceroy, he naturally, and we may say inevitably, .ti'ansfers into the sphere of govern- ment the unscrupulous craft and chicanery of diplomacy. Be this as it may, certainly under the administration of Viscount Whitworth the most lamentable dissensions, in the most unaccountable manner, broke out and raged among the Irish Catholics, and frittered their organizations into discordant and fragmentary shreds ; and when he retired from Ireland he saw with a smile their once formidable masses perfectly pros- trate, or crumbled into atoms. No one, of course, could trace these fatal wranglings home to his excellency — he played his part too secretly ; but as the administration of diplomatists is invariably attended by such disastrous results in Ireland, the historian, however willing, cannot safely attribute to accident a coincidence which is evidently the result of deep and nefa- rious design. A terrible disruption, shortly after Whitworth's an'ival, broke out amongst the Catholics of Cork. One party abso- lutely refused to sit in the same room with the other. O'Con- nell, called upon to re-estabhsh concord, visited the sulky secessioniots. At an aggregate meeting, which was held in Cork shortly after the arrival of Viscount Whitworth, O'Connell said : '' Gentlemen, nothing can be of more benefit to us than unanimity, and therefore it is that I should propose that you give the seceders another opportunity of returning to theii* post and to their duty. I think those gentlemen have seen their error : they begin to find they are nothing. I saw them a few moments back, a few scattered individuals in a corner of a yard. I addressed them, because though small, very small indeed, in LIFE AND TI3IES OP O'CONNELL. 867 their numbers, yet as individuals they are respectable, and I wished to undeceive them. I asked them if they were Roman Catholics, and could they talk of ' securities.' I tcld them to leave securities to the minions of the Castle — ^to the pen- sioned hu'elings of the state — ay, and to the Orange -Papists too. ... At present how are we ti-eated ? Something in the manner of mad dogs, which they ydU not let loose without first tying up one of theu' legs. They will give us Emancipation after we give them security — secmity that we will be slaves. Let us then go after those people — let us endeavour to effect, if possible, an understanding between the anti-vetoists and the vetoists. I do therefore move, sir, that a deputation of ten persons be appointed to wait on the com- mittee, and commune with them on the present differences, and that they do return in one hour with their reply." This was of course agi'eed to. A deputation waited on the seceders, and prevailed on them to return. A Mr. Galwey then took the chair, and a Counsellcft* M'Donnell proposed a resolution which made the fires of discord burn fm-iously. '* I propose a motion," said Counsellor McDonnell, " for the unanimous thanks of this highly respectable meeting to that great, good, learned, and able defender of om* religion — that watchful guardian of our rights, the enlightened prelate. Dr. Milner (cries of " ay, ay ! hear, hear !"). Gentlemen, I knew it would be received with acclamation — I knew that the name of Milner was sufficient to rouse all the fine feelings of grati- tude and generosity in Catholic Ireland. But think not that I mean to panegyrize his great and splendid virtues. No ; a mind like his, enlightened by the bright rays of knowledge and science, soars above all feeble praise ; but this I cannot avoid saying, that Dr. Milner has contributed more, by his talents and the application of his great labours, to the inter- ests and concerns of Ireland and the religion of her children, than any other individual in the community. Well he may be called the watchful shepherd. Perhaps, under divine Pro- vidence, it is through his care and his exertions that we can still enjoy the profession of our rehgion uncontaminated by vile com'tly influence." The resolution proposed by Counsellor McDonnell was se- conded by James Roche, Esq. " Well, gentlemen," continued M'Donnell, " I have another motion to propose — it is one ol thanks to another good and worthy gentleman who has fallen a victim to the patriotism or his soul and the vile machinations of our enemies — a gentle- 368 LITE AND TIIMES OF O'CONNELL. man sufienng within the precincts of Kilmainham for his attachment to Ireland ; but suffering with the feeling and the heroism of a genuine Irishman. Gentlemen, those who have virtue enough to expose themselves in the great cause of the people, the people should never abandon. Gentlemen, I shall now move a vote of thanks to one who has so exposed him- self ; and in retmn we will now cheer John Magee — suffering in his dungeon — with the approbation of applauding thousands. I do therefore move the thanks [Here the speaker was interrupted by the acclamations of his auditory, impatient to express their sympathy with Magee.] "Gentlemen," continued M'Donnell, " I have now another resolution to move in favour of an honest and noble -hearted Irishman — the boast and pride of our land and the terror of our enemies. I will now move a vote of thanks to oui' illus- trious countryman, Daniel O'Connell." A raptm'ous burst of deafening applause — an instantaneous shout — followed this anftouncement. The place rang with a perfect tempest of cheering and clapping, and every possible demonstration of approbation, which' continued for several minutes. When the applause had partially subsided, a Mr. Moylan came forward and said: "Mr. Chairman and gentle- men, I appear before you here to addess this assembly of my fellow-citizens, not as a popular leader, but as wishing to express my opinions upon the justice or injustice of certain proceedings. I did expect that after two hours spent in at- tending our negociation, every matter would have been soberly digested, and that no resolution would be proposed here in addition to those so digested and amended by that negociation. I did myself intend to have proposed a resolution to this meeting ; but after that negociation I gave it up and resolved not to propose it ; and therefore I am the more astonished to find any man come forward to propose any resolution which eveiy respectable man in this meeting will disapprove of. (Loud cries of " Name it ! name it!") I will not shrink from proposing a resolution against Blr. M'Donnell. I will propose a resolution against the vote of thanks proposed by him to Dr. Milner. (Loud cries of disapprobation.) I will briefly state my reasons for objecting to the three motions proposed by Mr. M'Donnell. My first is against Dr. Milner ; his ter- giversation is known ; he disappointed our friends in Ireland and deceived us all — and his tergiversation is acknowledged by all. And upon the second point I fear not to express my disapprobation to a vote of thanks to Mr, Magee — a LIFE AND TIMES OF O'CONNELL. 869 man generally known and acknowledged to be a convicted UbeUer." A storm of disapproval was aroused by these words. Hoot- ing, hissing, cries, and clamour drowned the voice of the speaker, and rendered him inaudible for several moments. When the tempest abated he said: ''With respect to the third motion of thanks to Counsellor O'Connell — no man respects his private worth more than I do ; but if I grant him a vote of thanks, it will be approving his jmhlic conduct; therefore I cannot give my consent to any vote of thanks to him. And as an amendment to Mr. M'Donnell's resolutions I do move — ' That no spirit of conciliation has or ever will be wanting on our part ; and that we are ready to make every concession to our Protestant brethren, consistent with the safety, integrity, doctrine, and essential discipline of our church.' " This insult to Dr. Blilner did not 'fail to find a seconder. A Mr. Eugene M' Sweeney immediately came forward, and stamped with his approbation that discreditable proceeding. "Good God! what have I heard?" exclaimed a gentleman named Denis. '*In the centre of as high-minded and as proud a people as the world ever saw, what have I heard ? With amazement I have heard it stated that Mr. Magee is a convicted libeller ! Gracious heaven ! A gentleman of noble and manly sentiments and high honour to be thus traduced ! Gentlemen, I can well remember when I first entered college, his father was conductor of that enlightened and liberal print, The Evening Post. It was then the only respectable or talented paper in the kingdom. If there be a convicted libeller among you, scout him ; but first judge his character upon evidence untainted and incorruptible. Have you never heard of jmies being packed and truth being a libel ? Oh ! reflect — beware ! Remember the times you live in, and the scenes you have lately passed through. If you ai'e not cool and temperate, your enemies will designate you as a rabble ; but by calmly hearing their feeble arguments, their object is d^eated and Ireland is triumphant." '* Mr. Chairman and gentlemen," said O'Connell, " I offer myself to your notice this moment with feelings it is impossible to express. I offer myself in support of two resolutions, and most decidedly adverse to the third. It is wrong of you to think of bestowing thanks on one of yom-selves, who, in his exertion in common with yourselves, can do no more than merely his duty — fight and struggle in a good cause ; but be- 370 LIFE AND TIMES OF O'CONNELL. Bides all this, there is no man worthy of what is said in that resolution, and therefore I do entreat of you to dismiss it from yom- notice, as one unworthy of occupying your attention. (Cries of "No, no ; pass the resolution !") But, gentlemen, it is objected to that enlightened prelate, Dr. Milner, that he at one time agreed to the Veto, but that afterwards he changed his opinion. Oh! would to God that any man who finds himself in error would act thus nobly, and, believing that he may be wrong, would not go about misleading others ; but like the great and good divine whom they charge with tergiversa- tion, renounce his errors and permit the pubhc mind to repose in peace. Who are those men who charge tergiversation ? Why, they are persons who change hourly — such among them who have opinions to change ; for the majority of them possess no opinion at all. Who are those independents who have so lately started up amongst you ? or what is their title to the character of independent ? For my part, I avow I do not know in what their independence can exist, except in the fact that no one can depend on them (laughter). But yet these are the persons to come forward and charge, upon a high- minded and deeply embarrassed divine, ' tergiversation,' be- cause upon a point of vital and most essential importance, where his great mind was awakened to a sense of threatening danger by the honest remonstrances of his virtuous brethren, he calmly listens to the dictates of conscience, re-considers, and, finding his error, openly, honestly, and manfully avows it. He did not allow his enlightened mind to be obscured by the doctrines of this w^orld ; no selfish vanity, no worldl}- pride prevented him from retracting his errors ; he did so — and, like a man whose kingdom was not of this world, as pub- licly as he had erred was his sorrow and regret. And, gentle- men, what is Dr. Milner, after all, but a man? Can you expect more of him than you allow to all other men ? It is the lot of human nature to err, but it is only the greatness of virtue that retracts and feels regret. But look at the blind policy of yiose erudite politicians ! It is really sui-prising how modest, meek, and humble those enlightened indepen- dents are ! The population of Ireland declare against all veto- ism, under every shape and form ; and these youths come forward, the one to propose, the other to second a resolution — for what ? — for provisional securities. You are called upon to defame the character and wound the feelings of one of the most learned and able men in England — a prelate who is now opposed in England by a vile faction, more disgraceful and LIFE AND TIMES OF O'CONNELL. 371 possessing worse passions than the infuriate anarchical faction which desolated and laid waste the happiness of society in France. But the faction is still more wicked, because they are the determined enemies of everything vh'tuous, liberal, honest, and enlightened. And this is the vile faction which would seek to bow his grey head in sorrow to the gi-ave. They en- deavoured to cast him down, but the voice of Ireland met him in his fall and upheld him. How glad should I be to know those people who thus act against reason and good sense. How gladly would I labour to convince them of their error. But why should I lose time ? Who are they ? What are they ? Where are thcu* numbers ? Is there another man in this immense meeting to join those two youths ? Oh ! that they could count our numiers to-day! Will they call for a division ? Oh ! for the tellers to enumerate our majority ! Oh ! what an appearance would those dissenters exhibit ! What a minority of two or fom- to countless thousands ! And what do they dissent from ? From the principle now laid down by the Board. We will make no charges of tergiversa- tion, nor will we blame those unreflecting young gentlemen if they now retract then- errors. But I will tell those people who are satisfied with the late bill, that, far from being a bill of relief, it was an^^thing else save a charter of emancipation. Oh ! how proud I am of the unanimity I perceive upon this great point. It will be a delightful consolation to the already tortured feelings of the good old prelate ! He has broken no faith with you. There has been no breach of contract. He has watched with a guardian's care over your interests. Too honest, too sincere, he is too virtuous to deceive Ireland. He possesses a combination of all the qualities and all the excel- lencies which should compose the aged prelate ; and amongst all these great qualifications there is but one thing bad about him — he has, for us, perhaps too much of the Englishman about him. But, gentlemen, when I turn pay thoughts on the other branch of Mr. Moylan's speech, what are my leelings ? Oh ! for the pensioned minions of the Castle ! Oh ! for the attorney-general and the persecutors of Catholics k) stand here to-day, and behold a Cathohc rise in a Catholic assembly, and pronounce John Magee a convicted libeller. If joii would reflect upon the thousands of which you are daily deprived to bestow upon the wretched hireling prints of the day — if you could know the sums lavished upon the dull and stupid Patrioty upon the vile and proverbially profligate Correspondent, to abuse, revile, and condemn the people — to blazon forth a S72 LIFE AND TIMES OP O'CONNELL. bigotted ministry — you would soon discover that the enlight- ened and patriotic owner of the Dublin Evening Post, which has the confidence of the people, would have been gladly and eagerly pwchased up. How then might such a young gentle- man, so educated, so enlightened, be received at the Castle ? How might he have made his way among the minions of the court, instead of being calumniated as a convicted libeller ? Oh ! for a packed jury in some tiying case where Mr. Moylan's feelings or interests were concerned to make him know the effects of courtly influence. If this Mr. Moylan could have seen the masters of Orange lodges sitting on the jury of John Magee, he could not have hesitated to decide that John Magee would have been declared a convicted libeller. If Mr. Moylan had been placet under such circumstances, however innocent his conduct, he too would have been de- clared a convicted libeller. But of what was he convicted ? That he truly described the character of the Duke of Rich- mond's administration. Is it not in all yom- recollections that this great duke dined at the mayor's feast in this very city ; that he on that occasion refused to drink the toast proposed — "the glorious and immortal memory;" and. yet is it not a fact that this great duke did actually pardon Hall the Orange- man, the murderer of the only son and only support of an aged widow ? Did this noble duke bring to punishment the murderers of the Catholics of Corruginshega ? No. And yet this noble duke, with the attorney-general at his elbow, brings a prosecution gi'avely into a com't of law to defend the purity of his administration in Ii'eland; a jm'y of Orangemen are impanelled — they find truth is a libel — they find John Magee is a libeller. Let this noble duke enjoy the fame he has reaped in this great exploit. I will tell him that John Magee is happier in his mind confined within a dungeon, than that lord duke is now in his palace ; and that when the memory of that lord duke shall be forgotten in our land, or only recol- lected with disgust and horror, the name of Magee, the inde- pendent proprietor of the Evening Post, shall be hailed as the proud and s^rn advocate of a nation's rights, and the glorious victim of persecution and proscription. To be sm-e he is now in Kilmainham prison ; but he feels no pain for himseh' — he feels only for his country — for you, my Catholic countrymen ; but yes ! he will feel pain when he hears that at a meeting of the Catholics of Cork, a Catholic Irishman rose up and called^ him a competed Hbeller. But I call upon this young man not to discredit his name and his family by this transaction ; I LIFE AND TIME8 OP O'CONNELL. 373 call on him to retract — it is the only means left him. (Mr. Moylan here said " he would not," and another person said he *' could not," as he was pledged to perseverance.) Well, then, there is no way left but to divide upon it ; but how can that be accomplished ? Well, is it not provoking that we cannot see what majority they will have against a vote of thanks to John Magee. There he is in Kilmainham — in the bloom of youth, ^dth a head clear and inteUigent, his genius keen and brilliant, his heart virtuous and incorruptible. Yes, my countrymen, his head is as clear as his heart is honest ; he is a true Iiishman, and I pride myself in calling him my friend. He is ardently, really, honestly attached to his country. He has cause to be so : he is deeply interested in her peace, tran- quillity, and glory. He woulid call out to her aid an unbought army of Ii'ishmen ; and for these vh'tues he is sentenced to linger out two years in a dungeon ! "When it will be imparted to IMr. Magee that this vote of thanks passed this meeting, his honest heart will rejoice ; but what will be his pleasure when he is informed that there was an objection : he will see that it only called out the greater spirit in the people — he will see that it gave more gravity, more weight, more consequence to the measure. My good friends, guard yourselves against division — be watchful of those that seek to divide you. Such divisions have put down Ireland — a continuance of them will destroy the finest and feirest country in the world. We have no intense heat in summer to dry up the earth to barrenness. We have no chilling winds in winter to freeze us to death. We are the most light-hearted people upon any shore. For seven hundred years our spirit has continued unsubdued. We were never beaten in any battle: on one occasion we sub- mitted to an agreement — a compact which was broken not by us, but by those who pledged themselves solemnly to its fulfil- ment. Why then should we be abused ? Wliy insulted ? Why doubted in our honour, in our integrity ? At all events, why quaiTel between ourselves? If it were not for these cursed divisions, Ireland would be the paradise of the world. With respect to the third motion before you, I shall be short — particularly as it regards myself. When I directed my attention to the great cause I am engaged in, I could not but anticipate the assaults which would be made against me. I set out with a fixed determination that though I may be deprived of abilities to serve, yet I knew I had a heart to feel ; and thus emboldened, I trusted more to the excellence of om' good cause than the talent of the advocate ; and if I have 374 LIFE AND TIMES OF o'CONNELL. in any degree been conducive to the great interests of Catholic Ireland, I rejoice. Nor shall the slanders nor the vile malig- nities of my enemies deter me. I will go on ; and the more I am maligned, the more shall I be pleased, and hope the more for the prospect of success. Nor will I ever doubt of myself until I shall hear those wicked hirelings of corruption teem forth odious praises of me — then doubt me, but not till then. Externally and internally I shall fight the enemies of us all, who are sometimes found nearer to us than we suspect — and they are the more dangerous for that. I have laboured and will continue so to do. But adopt not this exaggerated praise ofiered to me here to-day; it is not possible that I, or any man, could be deserving of it. I give up this motion to Mr. Moylan. I make him a present of this point, and let him give us the rest. (Loud cries of "No, no! we will not, we will not !") Then, beforehand, 1 thank you ; sincerely and honestly I thank you. It encourages — it cheers me on. I here want language to express my feelings. While I live I will never forsake poor old Ireland !" James Roche said: "Gracious God! Mr. Chairman, are we now to bow down to this vetoism ? What else is it but vetoism, brought forward under the name of provisions, secu- rities, and concessions ? Sir, I have just seen a work lately published by a most enlightened gentleman, Major Torrens. . . . I will take the liberty of reading his manly and liberal remarks on this subject." Mr. Roche here unfolded a pamph- let, and read a portion of it. When he had done, Major Torrens stepped forward, and said : " Mr. Chairman and gentlemen, it is impossible for me to be insensible to your appreciation of my feeble efforts in the cause of Emancipation. Ever since I became capable of forming a political opinion, I have been impressed with the propriety of granting to my Catholic fellow- subjects a participation in the privileges of the constitution. Why, gentlemen, it was in the bosom of the Catholic Church that our free constitution received its birth. Catholics rocked its cradle ; Catholics watched over its infancy, cherished its childhood, and matured its youth. Let those who would persuade us that the Catholic Church is dangerous to our liberties refer to the reign of our third Henry, and see all the Catholic bishops and abbots assembled, and, after read- ing the great chai-ter, fulminate with solemn ceremonies and tremendous denunciations all the terrors of the Church against any who should violate the fundamental instrument. Dangerous to admit Catholics into the House of Commons ! Why, gentle- LIFE AND TIMES OP O'CONNELL. 375 men, tlie Commons' House of Parliament was created by Catholics. If to om- view should be presented some ancient temple, which in sublime simplicity had withstood the shock of ages, and remained the admiration of the world; and if before this venerable pile some modern architect had raised a narrow gateway, with what scorn and derision should we turn from the person who pretended to persuade us that this petty gateway could not be removed without endangering the monu- ment of genius which it disfigured. This temple, my fellow- subjects, is the British constitution ; this narrow gateway is our excluding laws. Let scorn and derision, therefore, be our answer to those who say that the excluding laws are funda- mental principles in the British constitution." On the conclusion of Major Torrens's observations, the three motions before alluded to were put to the vote. Fom' per- sistent individuals opposed these votes ; but they were earned, nevertheless, by a sweeping majority of ten thousand ! A vote of thanks was subsequently proposed to Counsellor M'Donnell, which caused a remarkable individual, Remy Sheehan, subse- quently editor of the E veiling Mail, to favour the public with, we believe, his fii'st appearance on the political stage. Remy Sheehan, who was at this time a Catholic, said, " Mr. Chauman, I hope I shall not be treated with a worse reception, when I declare myself a member of that body which Counsellor O'Connell styled independent, because nobody would depend upon them. I am aware upon what authority Mr. O'Connell made such an assertion. I am aware — I will pledge myself to prove that it was upon the unfounded assertions of a public print which has disgraced itself and disturbed the peace of the city — upon the unfounded assertions of a public print, the Mercantile Chronicle. (Loud cries of " No, no !") Gentle- men, I will not be put down in this way if you were to go on till morning. I say again, the unfounded assertions of the Chronicle. [Sheehan was here interrupted by the clamours of the croud, who were indignant and dissatisfied with his obser- vations.] Gentlemen, I am a very young man," resumed Sheehan — '' I never before addi-essed a public meeting ; but I do confidentl}' assert, that the statements in the Chronicle about the independents were unfounded and slanderous. [Here a per- fect storm of hootings and hissings, rising fi.'om every quarter of the meeting, interrupted the speaker.] As the meeting will not suffer me to speak, I shall retire." Counsellor M'Donnell then said that he was extremely grate- ful for their approval. He was connected with the Mercantile 376 LIFE AND TDIES OF o'CONNELL. Chronicle, which Mr. Sheehan had alluded to. "I can assure you," continued Counsellor McDonnell, *'that the office of a public journalist, if he mean honestly, is not the most pleasing to private feelings, as he is not unfrequently obliged to sacri- fice personal respect and personal regard at the shrine of pubHc duty. And as to myself, I do declare that if my father, my brother, or my child were to oppose or injure the interests of our country, I would without hesitation advocate, and as far as in my power uphold, those interests in despite of all personal restraints ; and should, I trust, have enough of Irish firmness to denounce youi' enemies, even if they were to be found among such near and dear relatives — for, gentlemen, in my conception, the just principle for such guidance is, that in all things, and in all times, and under all circumstances, Ireland must first be served." James N. Mahon addressed the meeting subge(5UGntly. *' I call upon 3'ou," he said, "to shake ofi'the cowardly imbecility of the hired and interested faction that has risen amongst you like a plague. Disrobe yourselves of the odious garments of vile and trembling slavery. Let no man — let no body of men persuade you to basely crouch like abject sycophants, when you should boldly meet the natural enemy like Christians and like men. I appeal to your honest unsophisticated feelings. I ask the coldest, the most abject Catholic slave who has crawled here to-day with his chains of fear, moderation, and terror hanging about him — has not every engine that power could raise or atrocity fortify been embattled in lengthened array against you ? Has not the earth been swept to its dregs, and hell itself raked up by dark and infernal agents, to find amid the lucid horror of the hour that undiscovered instrument ■which Nero once was heard to sigh for — that axe of appalling execution, that could at one blow for ever extinguish the hopes and pohtical existence of five millions of that people of which we form a great and important division to-day ? You have heard with indignant feelings the youthful, the warm-hearted Magee — who has been consigned to a dungeon's gloom be- cause he dared to paint the woes and sufierings of his poor, bleeding country — called a convicted libeller. Heavens ! how my heart instinctively recoils at the sound. Is this his rewai'd — this his recompense. Let his calumniators look to his torn country, and say what is its history for twenty years past, or whether the generous captive has written untruths ? Behold its religion, the faith of its children, calumniated, and its brave inhabitants insulted, abused, and trampled on ! Look LIFE AND TIMES OF o'CONNELL. 377 to the recesses of tlie land — behold the famished peasant and the tyrannical aristocrat, his bigotted and unfeeling landlord Is this enough of the gloomy picture to show the venal hire- ling whose columns are bought to defame us that liberty has fled the land, and that the poisoned chalice of insidious slavery even now is attempted to be substituted for the cup flowing with the invigorating juice of British liberty ? Or must we go farther, and behold a court of star-chamber record worse than all that's fabled of the Inquisition ? Its ministers move about in darkness, ready to catch the falling word of honest warmth, and steep it in poison as it descends fi'om the lip. Every man who dares to speak a word or line of truth is dragged before the merciless tribunal, and condemned to lan- guish in the melancholy gloom of the dismal dungeon. This is the vaunted liberty of the independent moderators of our days. These are the slaves and wretches who would be the first to crouch in abject servitude before the tyrant of half Europe, and chant the loud poeans of his full-fraught glo- ries — nay, who would throng in tumultuous emulation to address Caligula's horse or the elephant of the king of Siam, if raised to the honourable rank of our worthy viceroy to- morrow." The Rev. Dr. England said that he should beg leave to detain the meeting for a few moments with some observations not strictly of a public character. It was an established fact that the Catholic Board of Cork had refused to hold a meeting in any chapel. It was well known that many of the Board had declared then* reason to be, that the clergy would have too much influence in such a place ; and it was bruited abroad that improper arrangements had been made previously to the last meeting in the North chapel, and that the meeting was packed; that signals were made for the purpose of exciting applause or disapprobation ; and that his name had been par- ticularly mentioned. He now stood forward to deny every tittle of the charge. He asserted that nothing partial or un- gentlemanlike could be proved against him. As no person supported the accusation, he should not proceed fm-ther." Thanks were then voted to the chairman, and the meeting adjourned. A large number of gentlemen at this moment assembled round O'Connell, and suggested to the people the propriety of chairing the illustrious orator. In opposition to his earnest entreaties and resistance, O'Connell was placed in a chair, and borne through the streets on the shoulders of a grateful multi- 378 LIFE AND TIMES OP o'CONXELL. tude. The procession moved slowly up Hanover-street, part of South Main- street, along Tuckey-street, and into the Parade. As they entered the Parade their numbers, swelled by con- tinual accessions, amounted to twenty-thousand. The con- tinuous acclamations of this vast multitudes-cheering and huzzaing enthusiastically as they proceeded — were perfectly deafening, and rang through the entire city. The procession halted at LafFan's, the hatter's, on the Parade, where O'Connell at the time had lodgings ; and from a window of that house he subsequently addressed the meeting. " Gentlemen," he said, "I assure you with perfect sincerity that I feel the most abundant gratitude for this generous mark of your esteem. If it were possible that I should require an additional incentive to urge my attachment to our common land, the unmerited favour you have just now bestowed on me would have supplied it. You will not, I am sure, be dissatisfied with me if, upon one point most essentially connected with your interests and cha- racter as Irishmen, I venture to oflfer my humble advice. (Loud cries of "Goon, go on!") Gentlemen, the greatest e\al that has followed the past transactions among yom-selves is to be found in the neglect of registering your freeholds. I do therefore implore you, now that I trust your distractions have subsided, to return again to the discharge of that first and sacred duty — the discharge of which alone can enable you efficiently to prove the sincerity of your gratitude to that first of statesmen, C. H. Hutchinson. (Thunders of applause and waving of hats for several minutes.) Gentlemen, I do beseech you to prepare for the next day of trial, and do not sufier the great cause of yom' city and your countiy to be impeded in its progress by internal distractions. (Loud and continued cheer- ing, followed by repeated bursts of applause.) I beg leave once more to assure you of my gratitude and sincere good wishes for yom* prosperity." O'Connell, having thus concluded his address amid the cheers and acclamations of his countrjinen, withdrew from the window. The crowd repeatedly renewed their acclama- tions after his disappearance, and then gradually and quietly withdrew. From the tumultuous proceedings at Cork, it seems quite obvious that some veiled hand had sown deep in the bosom of the Catholic body the baneful seeds of discord. It was in vain that the dignified eloquence of O'Connell rebiiked the envenomed spirit of dissension. The storm subsided for a moment, only to break out ^N^ith more savage violence. There LIFE AND Tir»IES OF O'CONNELL. 379 was unquestionably some evil principle secretly at work, which baffled O'Connell's exertions, and roused and exasperated the tempest, and poured over the whole island a darkening and maddening effusion of stormy passions. This seemed per- fectly evident. * Meantime his Excellency, the new viceroy — with a heart of ice, a face of brass, and a mendacious tongue, tutored to conceal not to express his thoughts — lay coiled up like an old serpent in Dublin Castle, slumbering apparently amid the tumult which sprung up everywhere around him. No one suspected his lordship — no one connected him with the "hurley-bm-ley" which had been conjured up. The Evening Post compHmented him on t^e possession of talents which he was employing clandestinely in accomplishing the ruin of that jom-nal and its supporters. On the 11th September, 1813, the Evening Post published what purported to be Viscount Whitworth's " reply to an address from Trinity College." '' This address," said the Editor, " must diffuse satisfaction. I fear no contradic- tion when I say that, as a composition, it is the best that ever dropped from the lips of a viceroy in Ireland. The writer must be a scholar of talent and refinement. I know you wrote it yourself — I know you are too proud to resort for assistance to a secretary — I know you are too able to require it, and I beHeve that you could do it yourself better than the Irish secretary. Indeed, Mr. Peel, though an excellent col- lege scholar, became too soon a man of office to be a man of letters. I say again, you wrote this address yom^self. In this respect you resemble the hero, Wellington — vain of being independent of a secretary," &c. The astute character of the wily diplomatist into whose hands the fortunes of unhappy Ireland had now fallen, receives elucidation from this circumstance. Having flung the address in question before the public, and thus elicited a warm eulogy of his talents, he turned round and declared he knew nothing whatever of the address in question. He rewarded their slavish adulation by rendering them ridiculous. He was not a week in the country when they felt themselves in the power of a Mephistophiles ; mortified, befooled, and laughed at — bogged and floundering in an inextricable maze of doubt and confusion. In his own peculiar manner he puzzled, bewil- dered, and bamboozled the leaders of the Irish, by way of feeling their pulse before he tore them asunder by dipsension, and prostrated their strength by frittering their mass into repulsive, conflicting, and discordant atoms. His conduct 380 LIFE AND xniES OF O'CONNELL. was eminently clever, but cruel, heartless, cold-blooded, and Satanic. This is what it is to be governed by an ambassador — a man trained to perfidy and deception in the evil school of royal courts. At the same time Viscount Whitworth was incapable of a cruel or violent action. He wooi-k the deadly malignity of the venemous Saurin, and the serpent-like craft of the diplomatic Whitworth — the one striking a poisoned blow at O'Connell through the sides of IVlagee — the other converting the friends into foes, and making the client hostile to the advocate. The enth'e proceeding merits the close attention of the inquiring reader. It is one of the most curious episodes in Irish historv'. The reader will perceive that O'Connell's defence of Magee — which was really a terrible arraignment of the ruling cabal, Richmond, Peel, and Saurin — rendered them delirious with rage. " It will surprise such of youi' lordships as were not present at the trial," screamed Saurin, "to find what was the mode of defence adopted by the criminal — which defence he has since, as the editor of a newspaper, published in that newspaper, and has accompanied it with another publication, declaring that such dcx^ence was perfectly according to his wishes and a.gree- able to his iustructions, and therefore as to him, it is to be considered as his ovrn ; and it will be for jouv lordships to say how far such conduct be or be not an aggi'avation of his crime, or be or be not a foundation for some ulterior proceedings on the part of the court. My lords, the first and most extraor- dinary mode of defence he has thought fit to adopt, is a wan- ton, malignant, and unexampled attack on the character of the public officer of the crown, who in the discharge of his duty came into your lordship's court to carry on the prosecution ; in which attack the political, the professional, the official and 432 LIFE AKD TIMES OF o'CON^'LLL. personal character of that officer, are vilified and abused in language as unexampled as was the situation of the person to whom the language -was applied. Can it for a moment be sup- posed that it is the right or the privilege of a criminal who is brought to trial on an indictment, to waive his own defence, and to turn the indictment into an arraignment and an accu- sation and attack upon the chai'acter of his prosecutor, and that prosecutor the pubUc officer of the law whose duty it was to prosecute his crime ? Is it possible to maintain that the com't and the jury are to be occupied with the discussion of the poHtical, professional, and personal character of the officer of the government who is bound to prosecute the dehnquent ? If that were to be the law of the land, the law of the land must give to the officer an opportunity of entering into his defence, and recriminating upon the counsel who might be employed for the prisoner ; and where would a trial end '? What would be the issue to decide on ? what the duty which the court or jury would have to discharge, if this were to have the sanction of the law ? If this be not the privilege of the criminal who is put on his trial, by the same reasoning it cannot be the privi- lege of his counsel ; for the privileges of counsel are nothing but the rights and privileges of their clients. Let me put the strongest case that can be imagined — let us suppose that the criminal should be able to find in the counsel an accomplice in his crime. Surely it could not be contended that the counsel of that criminal could derive any privilege fi'om his own crimi- nahty. He cannot have any privilege which the criminal would not have if he were defending himself. Let me put it in another way. Suppose, my lords, the criminal in this case had sent to any other counsel than the counsel who conducted his trial, and gave him instructions, not merely to waive his defence, but, under colour of a defence, to institute a wanton attack — a malignant assault upon the pubhc officer of the crown. Suppose his instructions to his counsel to be that he was very indignant and full of resentment at the conduct of the public officer, and that he called upon his counsel to re- criminate upon his character, personal and professional — what would be the answer of the barrister in that hall ? * Sir, you, as the criminal in the case, may feel that malice and resent- ment towai'ds your prosecutor which is incident to low and vulgar minds, who always entertain rancour and hostility against the person who is to prosecute and the court and jury by which they are to be tried. But my duty is, if I can, to procure your acquittal ; which if I shall not be able to accom- LIFE ANT) TralES OF O'COXNTELL. 433 plish, it becomes then my duty to mitigate your santence, to extenuate your offence, and as far as possible lighten the weight of yom* punishment. But I cannot lend myself to you as an instrument of your vengeance. The character of the attorney-general is not in issue upon the trial. If I were to assail his character it would only disserve you, and ba de- grading and discreditable to me as a professional man.' This, I conceive, would be the answer of such a counsel ; and yet your lordships see in this scandalous libel the wicked, malig- nant, and unexampled attack made on the public officer of the law. . . . Had it been scattered in the assembhes of the rabble or at the meetings of sedition, I would have passed it by with the same indifference and contempt with which I have treated the slanders which have flowed from the same source ; but when I find those seditious proceedings profane the public sanctuary of justice, I owe it, not as a duty to myself, but to the office which I hold, and to my successors to whom this office may be intrusted, to guard the situation from such out- rage and insult. My lords, without travelhug through the whole of this malignant and abusive libel, I cannot but call your attention to one pai'ticular passage, because the flagrance of its slander peculiarly calls for the indignation of the cour:. The words are : * Upon the CathoUc subject I commence with one assertion of the attomey-generars, which I trust I mis- understood. He talked, as I collected him, of the CathoHcf? having imbibed sentiments of a seditious, treasonable, and re* volutiouary nature. He seemed to me most distinctly to chai-c^e us with sedition and treason. There is no reiving on his words for his meaning — I know there is not. On a former occasion I took down a repetition of this charge full seventeen times on my brief ; and yet afterwards it tm*ned out that he never intended to make such a charge — that he forgot he ever used those words, and he disclaimed the idea that they natu- rally convey. It is clear, therefore, that upon this subject he knows not what he says, and that these phrases are the mere flowers of his rhetoric, but quite innocent of any meaning.' My lords, I should not attend to any of the gross misrepresen- tations which ai*a contained in that Hbel : but I should pay an ill comphment to the loyal and respectable CathoHcs of the country, if I did not give them the credit of discerning and distinguishing who it is that libels their character and their motives — whether it is I, who prosecute pubhc criminals, or the man who identifies himself with those pubHc delinquents. But the libel proceeds : * Upon this account I pass him bv— 19 434 LIFE AND TiaiES OF o'CONKELL. I go beyond laim, and content myself with proclaiming thes© charges, whosoever may make them, to be false and base calumnies. It is impossible to refute such charges in the lan- guage of dignity or temper ; but if any man dares to charge the Catholic body or the Catholic Board, or any of the indivi- duals of that Board, with sedition or treason, I do here, I shall always, in this court, in the city, in the field, brand him as an infamous and profligate liar. Pardon the phrase, but there is no other suitable to the occasion ; but he is a pro- fligate liar who so asserts, because he must know that the whole tenor of our conduct confutes the assertion.' My lords, I ask, what does all this mean ? How comes this blustering and bravadoing in a court of justice ? If it is intended to intimidate me in the discharge of my duty, the impotence and folly of the attempt is no justification of its illegality ; for I do say such an outrage on public decency has not occurred in the memory of man." Mr. O'Connell — "I am sure, my lords, that every gentle- man present will sympathise in the emotions I now experience. I am sure no gentleman can avoid feehng the deepest interest in a situation in vrhich it is extremely difiicult to check the strongest resentment, but quite impossible to give that resent- ment utterance in the severity of language suited to its cause and provocation. Yet even here do I yield in nothing to the attorney-general. I deny in the strongest terms his unfounded and absurd claim to superiority. I am his equal at least in birth — his equal in fortune — his equal cciiainly in education ; and as to talent, I should not add that — but there is little vanity in claiming equaHty. And thus meeting him on the firm footing of undoubted equality, I do rejoice, my lords — I do most sincerely rejoice — that the attorney-general has pru- dently treasured up his resentment since July last, and ven- tm-ed to addi'ess me in this court in the unhandsome language he has used, because my profound respect for this temple of the law enables me here to overcome the infirmity of my nature, and to listen with patience to an attack which, had it been made elsewhere, would have met merited chastisement^" Justice Daly — "Eh ! What is that you say ?" Justice Osborne, wdth much apparent emotion — ** I at once declare I will not sit here to listen to such a speech as I have seen reported. Take care of what you say, sir." Mr. O'Connell — "My lord, what I say is, that I am de- lighted at the prudence of the attorney-general in having made that foul assault upon me here, and not elsewhere ; be- LIFE AND TIMES OF o'CONNELL. 435 cause my profound respect for the bench overcomes now those feelings which, elsewhere, would lead me to do what I should regret — to break the peace in chastising him." Justice Dal}^ — *' Chastising the attorney-general ! If a cri- minal information were appHed for on that word, we sliould be bound to grant it." Blr. O'Connell— " I meant, my lords, that elsewhere thus as- sailed, I should be carried away by my feelings to do that which I should regret — to go beyond the law — to inflict cor- poral punishment for that offence which I am here ready, out of consideration for the court, to pardon." Justice Osborne — *' I will take the opinion of the court whe- ther you shall not be committed." Chief Justice — '' If you pursue that line of language, we must call upon some other of the counsel at the same side to proceed." Justice Day — "Now, Mr. O'Connell, do you not perceive that while you talk of suppressing those feelings, you are ac- tually indulging them ? The attorney-general could not mean you offence in the line of argument he pursued to enhance the punishment, in every way, of your client. It is unnecessary for you to throw off or to repel aspersions that are not made." Mr. O'Connell — "■ My lord, I thank you — I sincerely thank you. It relieves my mind from a load of imputation when I hear such high authority as that of your lordship kindly de- clai'ing that it did not apply to me. And yet, my lord, what did the attorney-general mean when he called a question a senseless and shameless question ? What did he mean when he — he, my lord — talked of low and vulgar mind ? What did he mean when he imputed to the advocate, participation in the crime of the client ? This he distinctly charged me with. All I reqmre from the court is the same liberty to reply with which the attorney-general has been indulged in attack. All I ask is to be suffered to answer and repel the calumnies with which I have been assailed." Justice Daly — ''You shall have the same liberty that he had ; but the com't did not understand him to have made any personal attack upon you." Justice Osborne — "We did not understand that the at- torney-general meant you, when he talked of a participator in the crime of your client." Attorney-general — " I did not, my lords. I certainly did not mean the gentleman. To state that I did would be to mis- represent my meaning, which had nothing to do with him." 436 LIFE AND TI5IES OP O'CONNELL. Mr. O'Connell — " Well, my lords, be it so. I rejoice, how- ever, that this charge is thus publicly disavowed — and disavowed in the presence of those who heard his words originally, and who have heard me repel any attack made upon me. I re- joice to find that your lordships have interposed your opi- nion that no personal attack has been made upon me, and thus have rendered unnecessary any further comment on what had flowed from the attorney-general. I am, therefore, enabled at once to go into the discussion of the merits of my client's case. And now let me first solemnly and seriously protest against the manner in which the attorney- general seeks to aggravate the punishment. It is by introducing into the affidavit of the at- torney for the prosecution, passages from the speech of coun- sel at the trial. These, perhaps, are times in which it may be desired by him, as it certainly is safe for him, to make bad precedents. But against this precedent I enter my earnest, my honest, my independent protest. My protest may for the present be disregarded ; but it will accompany the precedent in future times, and if not destroy, perhaps mitigate its evil effects. I therefore do protest against it on behalf of the bar and on behalf of the public. What ! is the Bar of Ireland to be thus degraded, that it shall be permitted to the inferior branches of the profession, to every attorney in the hall, to drag into affidavits the names of counsel, and their discourses for their clients ? If it be permitted against a defendant in a criminal case, it must be equally, or rather more liberally, al- lowed to civil suits. There will in future be no motion for a new trial without introducing the name of counsel and his exertions for his client, and perhaps his politics — pBrchance his religion ! Against this practice, now for the first time attempted to be introduced — against this first but mighty stride to lessen the dignity of an honourable profession — •! proclaim my distinct, unequivocal, and solemn dissent. But the privi- leges of the bar, however interesting to a numerous and re- spectable class of men, sink into insignificance when contrasted with the rights of the public. The public have a right to the free, unbiassed, and unintimidated exertions of the profession. If the bar be controlled — if the bar be subjugated — if the pro- fane hand of the attorney-general may drag the barrister from the high station of responsibility in which he is at present placed, and call for censure on the client for the conduct of the barrister, then indeed will it be quite safe for power to op- press and to plunder the inhabitants of the land ; in vain shall the subject look for a manly advocate, if he is to be exposed to LIFE AND TBIES OF o'COXNLLL. 437 tlae insolent mockeiT" of a trial of himself in the shape of an attack upon his client. In short, the pubhc are deeply inte- rested in our independence — their properties, their lives, their honours, are entrusted to us ; and if we, in whom such a guar- dianship is confided, be degi-aded — how can we afford protec- tion to others ? Lessened in our ovm esteem, habituated to insult, we shall d^^indle in talent as in character ; and if the talent may remain, it will be simply useless to" the oppressed, gi-eatly ser^-iceable to the oppressor. For the public, there- fore, who may easily be enslaved if the bar be debased, I again enter my solemn protest against this bad precedent. For myself, I have scai'ce a word to say; talents I do not possess, but I will never yield the freedom of thought and of language — I never will barter or abandon the independence of the profession. It may injure me — I know it will injure me, and I care not ; but as long as I belong to the Irish bar, I will be found open, decided, manly, independent. Unawed by the threats or frowns of power, holdmg in sovereign contempt the vile solicitations of venality, and determined to do my duty in despite of every risk, personal and public — the enemy of every oppression and fraud — the unalterable friend to freedom. I have a fault — I know it well — in the eyes of the attorney- general. The spuit that invented the inquisition exists in human natm-e ; that there was an inquisition proves the exist- ence in nature of an inquisitorial spirit. Nature is not calum- niated when she is charged with all the atrocity of bigotry in design and action ; and towards me that design has an object that is easily understood. To check the Popish advocate may, in the eyes of the attorney-general, be a work equally pious and prudent ; but the proudest feelings of contempt may de- feat his intention and place me above the reach of malevolence. From myself and from this strange precedent, I come to the case of my client. It is my duty to show your lordships that the matters stated for aggravation oughi not to afiect my client. It would be unjust — it would be cruel — it would be atrocious to punish him by reason of the controversy into which 1 have been diiven ; that, I am sure, the court ought not, and therefore will not do. Neither can you punish him for publishing his trial. It is admitted that his report is a true report of the trial ; the truth of the report is not even controverted ; and having this fact admitted — that he has given a true report — the law is clear ; it is clear no indictment or in- formation, nor any criminal process can be maintained against a person who publishes a true report of our proceedings in our 438 LIFE AND TIMES OF O'CONNELL. courts — nor does any civil action lie for such, report. It is laid down in 2 Hawk, 354, that nothing is a libel, or can become the subject matter of a criminal prosecution as such which occm's in the course of proceeding in a court of justice ; and the case of Astley v. Young in 2 Burr, has settled that no civil action will lie for anything that so occurs. There is but one case in the books where a contrary doctrine was held, and that case is just one of those bad precedents which, though tri- umphantly established at the time, are soon rendered obsolete and unavailing by the abhorrence of every rational man. It is the case of the King v. Williams in 2 Show. It was an indict- ment against Sir \Villiam WilHams for having published, by order of the House of Commons, " Dangerfteld's Narrative of the Meal Tub Plot.'' Such was the horror which the wise peo- ple of England entertained of the Pope in his proper person, that some conspiracy to re-establish his authority had been discovered close concealed in a meal-tub, and the House of Commons, catching and propagating the delusion, ordered the narrative of this terrific plot to be printed and circulated throughout the countiy. It was for this publication that Sir William Williams, the speaker of the Commons, was indicted in the first year of Iving James. If your lordships take the trouble of looking into the report, you will find that the coun- sel for the defendant, Mr. Pollexfen — a man who deserves the admiration of posterit}^, for he, at that despotic period, had the com'age to attempt to stem the torrent of unrelenting per- secution at the bar, and overbeaiing and iniquitous intolerance of the bench — he, the counsel for the defendant, v/as inteiTupted by the bench, and not sufl'ered to defend his cHent as his case merited to be defended. I admit that the case of Sir William Williams determined that the high court of parliament itself had no right to sanction the publication of any part of its proceedings which contained matter in itself libellous. But fortunately the authority of that case has been completely ex- ploded, even by the modern court of king's bench in the time of Lord Kenyon, in the case of the King v. T. Wright, in 8 Term Reports, 293. That was an apphcation on behalf of the late Mr. Home Tooke. Mr. Tobke, in 1794, had been acquitted of high treason, and j-et in 1799 the House of Com- mons adopted the report of a committee and ordered it to be printed, stating in substance, that although Mr. Tooke had been acquitted, yet that the evidence adduced at his trial showed him to be guilty. The order of the House, however, was, that the report should be printed for the use of the mem- LIFE AND Ti:iIES OF o'CONNELL. 439 bers. V/right, the defendant, printed it for public cii'culation, and he therefore had no protection from the order of the House but the general protection which every man has to publish the written documents laid before that House. For this publica- tion, grossly reflecting on Mr. Tooke, and accusing him of a crime of which a jury of his country acquitted him, he ap- plied to the king's bench for a criminal information, relying on the case of the King v. Williams, as only not in point be- cause much stronger. The court refused the information, and declared the case of the King and Williams not to be law! Judge Grose upon that occasion said these words : ' The case of WilHams occm-red in the worst of times, and is a disgrace to a court of justice ;' and Judge Laurence declared ' that no in- formation could be granted for publishing a true statement of the proceedings in a court of justice, although it may in itself contain a libel and no matter of law ; for,' said he, * it is of vast importance to the public that the proceedings of a couii; of justice should be universally known. The general advan- tage to the country in having those proceecVngs made public, more than counterbalances the inconvenience to individuals.' Such is the law — such is the doctrine laid down by a court which could not be reproached with any overweening propen- sity to popular rights or popular opinions. Nor is this case shaken or its authority weakened by the case before Lord EUenborough, reported in 7th East, 403, under the fictitious names of Nokes v. Styles ; on the contrary, the principle is distinctly recognized and admitted, and that case v/as decided as an exception, by being beyond the principle, and not a true re- port of judicial proceedings. I do, therefore, lay it down as clear law, that no indictment, or information, or action, could be sustained for publishing this report of the trial — which re- port the attorney-general seeks to convert into an. aggravation of punishment, that is, of course, an increase of punishment — that is, a double punishment ; punishment for the original libel, for which the defendant has been found guilty, and punishment for this report, of which not only h.93 the defendant not been found guilty, but for which he could not legally be put on any trial. It is no oiTence in point of law, yet the defendant is to be punished in point of fact for it. — In point of law the attorney-general could not prosecute him for this publication. If he indicted him, I would demur to the indictment — and still for this report, upon v.'hich he could ob- tain no conviction or judgment, does he call on the court to inflict a sentence. No jury could convict the defendant of this 440 LIFE AND THIES OF O'CON'NELL. publication; but the attorney-general requu'es a vote of the court to be substituted for the verdict of a jmy, and sentence to be pronounced upon that vote when no verdict could sus- tain a judgment. It is abhorrent to law and detestable to common sense that a man should suffer twice for one crime ; but this is a case in which it is sought that Mr. Magee should suffer twice — once for what is in law a crime, and once for what is not a crime in law or in fact — that is, he is to be pun- ished in the second instance, although the law admits his inno- cence. It is not that detestable thing — double punishment for one offence ; it is this greater atrocity that is sought for by the attorney-general — a punishment for no offence. This court is bound by every principle and every feehng to resist the soli- citation of the attorney-general, and not to punish a man for that which the law has sanctioned. But suppose I am wrong, and that this report is in itself a libel — then let the attorney- general indict for it ; and if he can convict, let him call for sentence. If it be indictable, the consequence may be — first, that he procures an increase of punishment for it in this in- stance ; and secondly, that he afterwards upon an indictment procures a sentence for the same publication ! Out of this dilemma the court cannot be relieved. If this be no offence, you have no right to punish for it ; if it be an offence, you ought not to leave it in the power of the attorney-general to punish twice for it. It is, perhaps, unnecessary to follow the attorney- general through the matter which the affidavit of the attorney for the prosecution contains ; and I do it slightly, and merely to show how little my client has to answer for with re- gard to those. The affidavit sets out three passages from my speech in the defence of Mr. Mageo : the first relates to the attorney-general directly and by name ; the second consists of a passage addi-essed to the jury upon their impartiality ; and the third, the attorney who made the affidavit swears he be- lieves alluded to one of your lordships. It is said that Mr. Magee ought to have made an affidavit to contradict that of the prosecutor's attorney ; how could he contradict that affidavit ? The attorney swears he believes the passage has a certain meaning ; and how could any person swear that the attorney does not so believe ? If he had given us the reasons of his beHef, he might be possibly contradicted in fact, or confuted in reasoning. But look into the passage, and you will find that it expressly states an imaginary case ; and wretched indeed must be the state of the bar and the cHent, if the paintings of the imagination of counsel are to be reduced in shape and form, LIFE AND TIMES OF o'CONNELL. 441 and embodied into an array against the client. I disdain being a party to any such degi^adation ; I should feel disgraced if I were to offer an explanation on this topic. The remaining pas- sages relate to what was said of the attorney-general himself. He has read for you that part in which, as counsel for Mr. Magee, I proclaimed (after an apology for the coarseness of the expression) any man who charged the Catholic people of Ii'e- land with treasonable or revolutionary sentiments, to be a liar. You will, upon reading the entire of the passage, find that it is a reply to what fell from the attorney-general — it is a mere answer to his speech. He indulged in extraneous topics, and as counsel for the defendant, I felt it my duty to follow him." Justice Day — "You have no afiidavit for the defendant, stating that the attoi;ney-general went into extraneous topics '?" Mr. O'Connell — ■" We have not, my lord — nor is it neces- sary we should ; for these passages purport of themselves to be a reply to such extraneous topics — to be a reply to the attorney- general using those topics. If those passages are to be re- sorted to, they must be taken altogether, and resorted to for what they purport upon the face of them^to be. They pur- port, then, to be a reply to the attorney-general ; and I ask your lordships in what language such charges ought to be re- futed? The jury was composed of what are called outrage- ously loyal men. It was the interest of my client, who had long been the advocate of the Catholics of Ireland, to stand well with that jury ; it was his interest that his counsel should stand well with them. Besides, there was a higher and more imperative duty on the advocate — as the Catholics are, by their oaths and their allegiance to the constitution, loyal — feeling for myself the pride of disinterested loyalty — that loyalty which is the result of judgment and of principle, not the mean and abject speculation of personal gain — that loyalt}'- which would equally maintain the safety of the thi^one and the liberty of the people, and not that canting, peculating loyalty which seeks to enrich itself by cringing submission to the powerful, and in- sulting oppression to the weak and humble. With the fire of genuine and constitutional loyalty about me, I did brand with the harsher expressions known to the language the man who should presume to impeach the allegiance of the Irish Catholic, or mine own ; and I will even proclaim as a liar the man who makes that charge, whether he boldly and directly charges it, or contents himself with mean insinuation of its truth. Thus much I have said rather for myself than for the defendant, for in the extravagant shape of the present proceeding, I have the 442 LIFE AND rniEs of o'connell. air of being on my trial, and not my client ; and I confers there is some justice in this. It was I who spoke the speech — it was I who urged those topics of defence ; why should my client be punished for it ? It was I who commented freely on the attorney-general, and addressed the jm*y as I deemed best ; why should Mr. Magee suffer for my acts — why should he be punished for the boldness of my language ? Is it because he sat in silence, and did not interrupt me ? Why, his lordship, the chief justice who presided at the trial, saw me there — he heard me, I presume, as well as Mr. Magee ; the counsel for the crown heard me, and did not interrupt me ; yom* lordship heard me, and did not interrupt me — I beg pardon, you did in- terrupt me once, and then I was able easily to satisfy your lordship of my right to reply to the attorney-general. If there were any objection to what was said — if the line of reasoning or comment I pui'sued was objectionable or faulty, the trial was .the time to have noticed it — it was the time pecuHarly and ex- clusively suited for such notice ; and it is due, as well to the traverser as to the prosecutor, to take that and no other time for the investigation of the propriety of the defence. But sup- pose it otherwise — suppose there does lie some new appeal to a future com't — yet, surely, Mr. Magee is not to blame. Thero is no appeal to him from the chief justice ; he is not bound, under peril of punishment, to be abetter judge of the propriety of a defence and of the privileges of counsel than his lordship. Was it ever heard of that a private person was required for his own safety — to avoid an increase of punishment — demanded to superintend the conduct of the bench, and to become a censor of the judge ? Must Mr. Magee be punished because he, forti- fied by the example of the court, listened in silence to the topics which I urged ? The attorney-general is, therefore, quite un- reasonable w^hen he requires of the court to increase the pun- ishment of Mr. Magee for not interrupting the discom-se of his counsel. It has, however, been relied on, that Mr. Magee afterwards in his newspaper approved of and applauded the defence set up for him, and avowed it. My lords, I pray you to see to what this amounts. In the fii'st place, it can be nothing more than would necessarily be impHed fi'om his silence. The client is presumed to avow that defence which is made in his presence ; the public avowal of it can, therefore, make no difference. VvTiether he speaks of it or not, the de- fence is his ; the public avowal is no aggravation. But in the next place, see, I entreat of you, what Mr. Magee has avowed thus publicly ; he has avowed the 'topics of this defence ;' that LirS AND TIMES OP O CONXELL. 443 is the extent of liis avowdl. Now, the speech of his counsel — my speech, my lords, way distinctly and emphatically divided into two distinct series of topics. The latter, and lesser part, related to the defence of Mr. Magee; the former, and far greater part, regarded the extravagant attack made by the attorney-general on the Catholic population of Ireland. The avowal and approbation of Mr. Magee are referable only to the topics of defence, and not to the matters contained in the affidavit to aggravate the punishment. To his defence no objection has been stated ; and beyond what is purely his de- fence he ought not, in any view of his case, be made respon- sible. I recapitulate — for Mr. Magee his publication of the trial is no crime, no offence cognizable by any public tribunal j it is an act to which the lavv' declares that no punishment is at- tachable. Besides, here it is sought to make him answer for what could be the fault, if fault at all, only of his counsel. And, good God! what a precedent will be estabhshed if you do so — if you punish him for that which the zeal of his counsel urged* perhaps indiscreetly — I would concede, for argument sake, improperly ; but not for this ought the client to be punished — and then any approbation given by him is confined expressly to the * topics of defence;' so that upon any view of the sub- ject, he cannot be confounded with his counsel. In short, the object — the plain object of the present proceedings is, under pretence of seeking punishment on the client, to attack the counsel. Your lordships have said that nothing personal to me was meant by the attorney- general ; but welcome should any attack he may choose to make on me be — so you, my lords, spare the client, innocent at least of this default. I put his case in this respect on your sense of right and common jus- tice. I conclude by conjuring the court not to make this a precedent that may serve to palliate the acts of future and, perhaps, bad times. I admit — I freely admit the Utopian perfection of the present period. We have everything in the best possible state ; I admit the perfection of the bench — I concede that there cannot be better times, and that we have the best of all possible prosecutors. I am one of those who allow that the things that be, could not be better. But there have been heretofore bad times, and bad times may come again, there have been partial, corrupt, intemperate, ignorant, and profligate judges ; the bench has been disgraced by a Bilknap, a Tressiiian, a Jeffers, a Scroggs, and an AlleyboAvn. For the present there is no danger; but at some futm-e period, such men may rise again ; and if they do, see what an advan- 444 LIFE AND TlilES OF O COJs'NELL. tage they will derive from the precedent of this day, should it receive your lordships' sanction. At such a period it will not be difficult to find a suitable attorney-general — some creature, narrow-minded, mean, calumnious — of inveterate bigotry and dastard disposition, who shall prosecute with virulence and malignity, and delight in punishment. Such a man will, with prudent care of himself, receive merited and contemptuous retort. He will safely treasure up his resentment for four months. His virulence will, for a season, be checked by his prudence, until, at some safe opportunity, it will explode by the force of the fermentation of its own putrefaction, and throw forth its filthy and disgusting stores to blacken those whom ho would not venture directly to attack. Such a man will, with shameless falsehood, bring sweeping charges against the popu- lation of the land, and afterwards meanly retract and deny them, v;-ithout a particle of manliness or manhood, he will talk of bluster, and bravado, and courage ; and he will talk of those falsely, and where a reply would not be permitted. If such times arrive, my lords, the advocate of the accused will be sure not to meet what I should meet from your lordships this day were I so attacked; he will not meet sympathy and equal liberty of speech. No, my lords ; the advocate of the accused will then be interrupted and threatened by the bench lest he should wipe ofi the disgrace — the foul and false calumnies that have been poured in on him! The advocate then will not be listened to with the patience and impartiality with which, in case of a similar attack, your lordships would listen to me. The then attorney-general may indulge the bigoted virulence and the dastard malignity of an ancient and irritated female, whose feelings evaporate in words ; and such judges as I have described will give him all the protection he requires ; and although at present such a dereliction of every decency which belongs to gentlemen would not be permitted, and would rouso your indignation, yet in such bad times as I have described, the foul and dastard assailant would be sure, in court and be- yond it, to receive the full protection of the bench ; whilst the object of his attack would be certain of meeting imprisonment and fine were he to attempt to reply suitably. Before I sit down, I have only to add that I know the reply of the solici- tor-general will, as usual, be replete with talent ; but I also know it vail be conducted with the propriety of a gentleman ; for he is a gentleman — an Irish gentleman ; but great as his talents are, they cannot, upon the present document, injure my client. With respect to his colleague, the attorney-general, I LIFE AND TMIES OP O'CONXELL. 445 have only to say that whatever relates to him in my speech at the trial was imperatively called for by his conduct there. As to him I have no apology to make. "With respect to him I should repeat my former assertions. With respect to him I retract nothing. I regret nothing. I never will make any concessions. I do now, as I did then, repel every imputation. I do now, as I did then, despise and treat with perfect con- tempt every false calumny that malignity could invent, or das- tard atrocity utter whilst it considered itself in safety." When O'Gonnell's speech vras concluded, heated by his ex- ertion he threw himself into a seat. Bushe, the solicitor- general, immediately rose and was about to speak, when Wal- lace offered himself to the notice of the com't, and said he hoped, in a case like the present which was characterized by severity and full of difiiculty, the court would not consider it a waste of time to hear a very few observations from a second counsel. The lawyer who made this request. Counsellor Wallace, was a remarkable man. He was perhaps the only self-educated man that ever appeared at the Irish bar. Ii-eland has been for ages so plagued and cursed with aristocracy that self-educated men are rarer in Ireland than, perhaps, in any other countiy. Hence it is no exaggeration to say that Wallace was a remark- able man. In his youth he found himself alone in the world — • without competence or connexions, and with merely the rudi- ments of general knowledge. He then formed, and for years persevered in a solitary plan of self-instruction, until feeling his courage and ambition increased by the results of the expe- riments he had made upon himself, he rejected the temporary allurements of any more ignoble calling, and with a boldness and self-reliance which the event justified, decided upon the bar as the most suited to his pretensions. With this view he qualified himself for Trinity College, and entering there gave himself what was probably his chief motive in submitting to the delay — the reputation of having received a regular educa- tion. He was called to the bar in 1798, where his talents soon brought him into notice. He advanced at a gi'adual and a steady pace to competency, then to afiluence, and finally, to the conspicuous place he held in 1813 in the coui'ts. Though a Protestant, he had not at this period obtained a silk gown ; he was known to have connected himself in his political sympathies with Grattan and the friends of Ireland, and this, according to the maxims by which the country was then governed, was an unanswerable reason for procrastinating for years his title to precedency. 446 LIFE AND TIMES OP O'CONNELL. Wallace's character exhibited little of the peculiarities of his country. No mercurial yivacity — no movements of an im- patient and irregular ambition ; but rather the composed and dogged ardom- of a Scotchman intent upon his destined object of fame and profit, and submitting without a mmTuur to the fatigues and delays through which it must be approached. In the same way it might be said of his mind, that it had Httle or nothing that was strictly national. The forms in which it excelled were purely abstract, and would come as well from a native of any country. It was as an advocate, as contra-dis- tinguished from a mere lawyer, that Wallace had been most successful. There was at all times and on all occasions an in- nate, constitutional, imposing vigour in his topics, language, tones, and gestures — all co-operating to a common end, and keeping for ever alive in his auditory the conviction that they were listening to a singularly able-minded man. This impres- sion was aided by his general aspect — his face, without a particle of pedantic solemnity, was full of seriousness and determination. Whatever of elevated or refined emotion might belong to the individual, it never settled upon his countenance, and equally absent was every trace of sentimental discontent. But you found there a rigid, statue-like stability of expression, import- ing consciousness of strength and immobility of purpose, and suggesting to those who knew his history and character an early and deliberate preparation for the world's fi'own, and a determination to retort it. To return: AVallace — who now adopted a line of defence of which O'Connell had not been apprized — when accorded permission to speak, said: *'From the nature of the facts charged in the affidavit, I am utterly unable to say what I am to justify or whom I am to defend ; whether I am to show this publication not to be a libel, or whether I am to prove it is not a contempt of court ; whether I am to defend Mr. Magee, by whom the speech was published, or to justify the counsel by whom it was delivered. When I say this application is unusual, my lords, I do not mean to deny the right of the attorney-general to state matter to the court in aggi'avation of the prisoner's guilt. I fully admit it. But the matter to be stated in aggravation of guilt must be matter in connexion with the original ofience — not a distinct and sub- stantive crime, for which the prisoner may be liable to a dis- tinct and separate punishment. It must also be the act of the prisoner himself. No instance can be found in the history of the law where the com't has been called to punish a convicted LIFE AND TDIES OF o'COXNELL. 447 man, by way of aggravation, for acts not only distinct and in- dependent of the original offence, but also the acts of another person, and for -^hich that person was liable to a distinct pun- ishment. What is the fact here on which the court is called on to increase the punishment of the prisoner ? j\Ii\ Magee^r— the proprietor of a newspaper in which it is usual and justifi- able to publish fair reports of the proceedings in a court of justice — is charged v;ith having published in that paper these parts or passages of the speech of counsel delivered in the case of 'the King against Magee.' If the passage so pubhshed be a libel, it is a libel quite distinct fi'om that of which Mr. Magee has been found guilty — for that was a libel on the Duke of Eichmond, and these passages have no reference to that sub- ject. If this be a libel, should it not at least be proved so before Mr. Magee is punished for it. Should he not have an opportunity of defending himself by witnesses before a jury, in- stead of being thus, unheard and undefended, submitted by the attorney- general to the com't for punishment .as a guilty man. If this be a libel, let the unfortunate prisoner be punished for it ; but before he is punished, let his guilt be ascertained in the usual way — by a jury of his country, and not by the affidavit of a crown solicitor, and upon tho argument of tho attorney-general. But if Mr. Magee must nov*^ be put upon his defence .for this publication — if the trial by jury in this instance is to bo superseded, and the fact ascertained by an affidavit, let me ask how is this publication a libel ? It is stated to be a report of what was delivered in a court of justice ; it is not chai'ged by the affidavit to be an unfair report, or to have been published with any sinister motive, or to givo any false or over- charged colouring. Is such a publication a libel ? This surely is not the time or the place to go at any length into an argument on the doctrine of libel. I will not cite any particular case to prove that such a publication is not libellous ; but I rely on the whole train and current of authori- ties that it is not so. I know the learning and pre-eminent talents of the gentleman who is to reply to me, and yet with- out dread I challenge the learning of the solicitor-general to prove me mistaken in this position, ' that if the publication bo a fair report of a judicial proceeding, it cannot be a libel.' " I\ir. Justice Day observed that though a fair report of atrial may not be hbellous, it was another question whether the speech of counsel, published by himself, might not be a Hbel. "I am soHcitous," replied Mr. Wallace, **to avoid in. any degree implicating the case of my client with the merits or de- 448 LIFE AIs^D TIMES OF o'CONNELL. merits of the speech. If my learned colleague has fallen into any error or impropriety, in the speech which he delivered, he has the manliness and candour, I am confident, to avow it and take on himself the responsibility." O'Connell, on hearing these words, rose and said, "I do not admit I have been guilty of any impropriety." " I am misunderstood," said Wallace, " if it bo supposed I mean to charge any impropriety on Mr. O'Connell. I say only that if such impropriety had been committed, my learned col- league would have had the manlmess to take the responsibility of his own act upon himself, and that the punishment of this error should not fall on Mr. Magee. The counsel who deli- vered the speech may be innocent ; but whether guilty or inno- cent, I contend that the fair publication of it as a proceeding in a court of justice, and uncensured by the learned judge who presided, must be mnocent." "Mr. Wallace, you are arguing this case so ably and clearly that it is almost a pity to interrupt you," said Justice Osborne ; "but I would suggest, not by vray of objection, but for your assistance, that it is probably not the mere publication of the speech, but the subsequent adoption of it by the prisoner, which creates the difficulty, as leading to a belief that he suggested the topics with a libellous intention." "I thank your lordship for the suggestion you have h-ad the goodness to make, ' ' replied Wallace. ' ' The expression to which yom* lordship alludes I intended to apply myseli to, and shall do so ; for the present, I shall only observe, as an answer to the inference which the court adverts to, that the affidavit upon which it is sought to aggravate does not state 0¥ even hint at the passages having been suggested with that view ; and sui'ely the court will never assume a fact like that, for which the charging affidavit affords no colour. Nothing is charged by the affidavit but that the prisoner published the speech, and that the line of defence taken by his counsel had his appro- bation. The mere publication under such circumstances of a speech which was suffered to be delivered without interruption by the judge, cannot, I have endeavoured to show, be libellous ; but when it is considered who that learned judge is, the argu- ment acquires tenfold force — a judge, not only distinguished for his zeal in the administration of justice, but for his anxiety that that justice should be administered with decorum. When such a judge permitted a speech to be delivered without reproof, how can it be criminal in the editor of a newspaper to print it?" " All that you say may be very fair, Mr, Wallace, in arguing LIFE AND TIMES OF o'CONNELL. 449 your client's case," said Chief Justice Downes — "it may be a very fair imputation on the judge ; but if you mean to infer from thence the judge's approbation of that address, believe me the very reverse is the fact." Mr. Justice Day observed that it vrould be very hard if the mildness of a judge, unwilling to interru];it counsel in defence of an accused man, should be converted into a justifi- cation or approbation of what counsel was unwarranted in uttering. " Nothing," said AYallace, *' could be farther from my inten- tion than to insinuate that the silence of the learned judge amounted to approbation. I am not defending the counsel who delivered the speech, but the prisoner whom it is now sought to punish for the publication of it. I only say that the silence of the judge was an argument to the prisoner that this speech was not so disapproved of by the court, as to lead him to believe the publication of it would be criminal. Be- tween positive approbation and decided disapprobation, there are numerous shades of difference ; and though the judge may not approve what may have been said or may have been done in a com't of justice, it may not follow that he so decidedly disap- proves as to warrant him in stopping the counsel who delivers it ; ]3ut if he does not so disapprove, what is there to indicate to a publisher that he is unwarrantable in giving the speech to the public ? Upon the whole, therefore, if the publication be a libel, it is one in its nature distinct from that of w^hich Mr. Magee has been convicted — and yet it is one for which he may be tried, convicted, and substantively punished. And therefore it is con- trary not only to strict lav/, but to the fii'st and most obvious principle of justice, to punish him for it in this mstance. But I think I have shown that it cannot be libellous. If then it be not a libel, on what principle can it be at all punishable ? If it be not a libel, I am at a loss by what name to call it. — What man will be safe if, after counsel have made a zealous and ardent defence for him, though it may be unfortunate or injudicious, he shall be liable to fine and imprisonment if fi'om the impulse of gratitude which he feels for zeal he shall ven- tm-e to approve and adopt what that zeal may have led his counsel to utter ? Must it be estabHshed as a principle of law that the feeling of gi'atitude to his counsel — the most honom-- able reward which the labours of counsel can receive — must be checked and chained until minute inquiry be made whether all that counsel may have said has been critically and scrupu- lously correct — until, perhaps, the opinion of other counsel be 450 LIFE AND TIJIES OF o'CONNELL. taken on its wisdom, its legality, and its propriety. Must the superintendence of counsel be transferred from the court to the client, and must the chent, before he adopts the defence made by his counsel, thongh that defence has not been reprehended by the court, hold an inquisition whether though it have escaped for i]ie present the court may not hereafter at any in- definite time change its opinion upon that point, drag it again into discussion, and make it a subject of punishment. See, my lords, what a dreadful responsibility you impose on coun- sel and on the cHent by such a rule. If the indiscretions of counsel are to be visited on the cHcnt — instead of inquiring what are the talents or the learning of counsel, the client must examine into his moral qualities — into his politics, his temper, lest whatever advantage he may derive from his learning or his talents he should be punished by fine and imprisonment for his intemperance or his errors. A new epoch arises in the history of the administration of justice if this be law. The re- lation of counsel and client, such as it has heretofore existed, is abolished — such as it existed when your lordships were at this bar, and when you were free to give the full benefit of yom* talents to the client, unembarrassed by the fear of having your errors of temper or of politics visited upon him. A nev7 and vicarious relation is established by which the client and the counsel must be bound together pro bono et maio, and the client may become the \ictim to be immolated for the crimes of his counsel. Under the worst of judges and vrith the worst of juries, no such dreadful principle has been promnlged — no such horrible precedent has been set. So long as the spirit of law and of liberty shall live in this land — and I am proud to say that spirit does exist — no such principle can be established — no such precedent will be set. For the sake of the client then, my lords — for the sake of counsel — for the sake of the court — but above all, for the sake of justice, I do implore your lordships to refuse your assent to such a prin- ciple or to estabhsh such a precedent. But if this appHcation should be granted, a precedent will be established which can neither be evaded nor explained a\vay ; for the materials on which this application rests are too simple and unambiguous to afford a hope that the decision of the court can be attributed to any other or more legitimate ground. But your lordships, I predict, will set no such precedent. No, my lords ; let the free spirit and honourable responsibihty of the bar remain ! If we be guilty of errors, let us answer for our own demerits ; if we shall violate the decencies which our relations to the LIFE AND TIMES OF O'CONNELL. 451 b^ch or the public demand of us, let us suffer the reprimand and reprehension of the bench before whom we shall offend. Or rather leave us, my lords, to that more severe and dreaded pmiishment which the law of opinion prepares for us — the opinion of this liberal, learned, and high-minded profession, who certainly will suffer no man to escape with impunity who shall be guilty of a coarse, or a vulgar, or a saucy abuse of the robe he wears. Or if jonv lordships have not that full confidence in the integrity and justness of feeling of the Irish bar which I am proud to say I entertain — if you think you cannot safely com- mit to the profession the superintendence of its own manners, let that higher power which, it is said, is vested in the judges of the land be exercised if it exist. Let anything that reason and justice can devise be done to preserve the propriety and the honour of the bar, the dignity and the respect due to the bench. One thing only, my lords, I solemnly deprecate — in the name of God, let not the guilt of the client be aggravated by the sins of his counsel. Here, my lords, I shall stop. I feel I am too long dwelling on what the professional feehng and the justice of the court concur with me in enforcing. I shall therefore leave the case and my client to that feeling and that justice, and shall only express my humble hope that the judges of the land will not invert the doctrines of our holy religion, and in- stead of saving by imputed righteousness, condemn and punish by imputed guilt." It is indispensably necessary in the legal profession, that the advocate should be faithful to his client, but it is also necessary that the client should be faithful to his advocate. According to the Spanish proverb, we should never deceive our doctor, our confessor, or our lawyer ; but in this case, Magee unquestionably deceived O'Connell. O'Connell felt as if Magee — who had not apprized him of the line of defence which Wallace adopted — had repudiated him. It might, no doubt, arise from the excessive sensibility of O'Connell's mind — that sensibility which is the inseparable accompaniment of genius, and constitutes its torment ; but the speech which we have already read, occasioned no ordinary pain to O'Connell. Could the reader by any possibility trans- fer himself into O'Connell's place, and view the question from his stand-point, he w^ould see that though Wallace's speech was carefully worded — though he rejected O'Connell tenderly and politely, still it was a rejection, which of course was sug- gested or approved of by Magee. O'Connell thus saw, amid the laurels which his eloquence deserved and received, the in- 452 LIFE AND TIMES OF O'CONNELL. gratitude of his client, like some brute-monster, starting out tfu- expectedly to horrify and wound him. This might, as we said, originate in O'Connell's susceptibility; but be the origin what it may, it pained him exquisitely at the moment. It seemed the treacherous effort of a man in whose behalf he had put forth all his intellectual wealth — exerted all his powers and talents, to dash him dovm from the lofty dignity of an advocate into the grovelling degradation of a culprit. It occasioned him unspeakable displeasure to see himself cast off by the client with whose warm approbation and hearty concurrence he had adoptee his line of defence. It gave him pain — unblended, however, with the slightest thrill of fear — to hear Wallace call upon the bench to substitute the advocate for the defendant, and rain upon the head of the former the penalties of offences alleged to be perpetrated by the prisoner. The conduct of Magee, if it cannot be excused, may at least be accounted for. He felt, as did every man in the com- munity, that though he himself was nominally arraigned, it Y/as O'Connell they were really trying. He felt that the aris- tocracy were acting dishonestly in impeaching him, and his conduct may be interpreted into an effort to baffle and frus- trate them. He felt that the aristocracy were too cowardly to grapple with the bold and powerful tribune who had excited their mean malignity, and he called on them to act with cou- rage. If the aristocracy could have dashed their claws into O'Connell, they would have gladly torn him to pieces, instead of nibbling at Magee ; but they shrank back in alarm from his lion-like appearance as cautiously as "Some poor steer, that in the lion's cave Seeks shelter from the suow." Magee's conduct may receive this interpretation ; but at the time it appeared to many treacherous and unmanly on his part to try to make a scape-goat of his advocate. The reluctance of the aristocracy to encounter a man like O'Connell, whom they were so desirous to strike down, tends to exalt our conception of O'Connell's talents. Their anxiety to wound him was unquestionable, but they felt that he could not be coerced into submission or cowed into abject fear. They regarded him with alarm as well as hate — aware that he was a formidable foe perfectly prepared for them. Like reptiles, as they were, they hissed at him and let him alone. In the following speech of the solicitor-general, the reader will find that Bushe refuses to draw the distinction which was LIFL' AND TIMES OF O'CONNELL. 453 pleaded for by Wallace. He turns aside from the free and noble game that was ofiered him, and vents his rage on the pale captive who was struggling in his toils. He wishes to have Magee punished for his original oflence, the libel on the Duke of Kichmond — and his aggravation of that offence, the adoption of his counsel's philippic, but he will not assail that counsel. "My lords," said Bushe the solicitor-general — <'I agree altogether with Mr. Wallace, that this is a perfectly novel and unprecedented case ; and perhaps on this account it has bean much misunderstood, and consequently much misrepresented. In the first place, my lords, it is urged as an objection to the proceeding by the crown, that nothing which has occurred since the trial can be relied on in aggravation of the crime, and that something connected with the original offence is the only justifiable document upon which the prosecutor can apply for an aggravation of punishment. That is an assertion, my lords, which is not vv^ell considered. The authority to the con- trary is express. It was decided upon solemn argument in the king's bench in England, in the case of the King against Withers, in which the arguments now relied on by Mr. Wal- lace were without effect urged on the court. That decision puts an end to the preliminary difficulty suggested by Mr. Wallace, which it is necessary to put out of the way, because if it were well founded, the discussion of other topics which have been debated to-day would be so much time unnecessarily consumed." "I did not understand Mr. Wallace as ui'ging to that ex- tent," said Justice Day. " My lords," said Bushe, "he certainly did ; and I cannot offer a better proof that he did so than by showing that the very same arguments, by a coincidence which naturally occurs when men of talent consider the same subject, have been urged by Mr. Wallace this day which were relied upon by Mr. Dallas as counsel for the prisoner in the case to which I allude, and which is reported in the 3rd Term Rep. 428. I shall read the report : ' The defendant was competed upon an indictment for publishing a libel, and was brought up to receive the judg- ment of the court. lsh\ Erskine on the part of the prosecu- tion, by way of aggravating the punishment, produced to the court an affidavit to which was annexed another pamphlet written by the defendant after the trial, which he called an apology, but which was in fact more libellous than the publi- cation for which he was tried. Mr. Dallas, for the defendant, 4:54 LIFE AND TIMES 01' O'CONNELL. objected to the reading of this second pamphlet, because it was not competent to the prosecutor, after the trial, to give evidence of separate and distinct crimes unconnected with the original charge, in order to aggravate the punishment of that charge.' Your lordships see that this is exactly the argument of Mr. Wallace. 'This second publication,' continues Mr. Dallas, ' may, if true, be the subject of a future prosecution, in the trial of which the defendant may have an opportunity of taking the opinion of the jury on the question of fact, and of having the publication put on the record, that he may take the sense of the court, and afterwards of a court of error on the question of law — whether the matter be hbellous or not. "Whereas if it be read now, by way of aggravating the former offence, he will be deprived of both these advantages, to which every person who is accused of publishing a libel is entitled ; and this cannot be pleaded in bar to another prosecution on the same charge ; so that in effect he will be punished twice for the same offence.' 'But,' Lord Kenyon said, 'it is well settled that the conduct of a defendant — subsequent to the time when he is found guilt}' — may be taken into consider- ation, either by way of aggravating or mitigating the punish- ment. In general it is done for his benefit — in order to extenuate the offence ; but it is also done, when requii-ed, to aggravate.' " My lords," continued Solicitor-general Bushe, " I con- ceive that it is unnecessary for me to argue upon the principle which justifies this decision — it is a ruled case; and this publication now brought before the court — being subsequent to and unconnected (if it be unconnected with the libel), forms not the least objection to our laying it before the court in the way of aggravation. My lords, the next proposition which has been advanced by the two learned counsel for the defendant is of a different description ; but I think they have been re- duced to the necessity of arguing it by not adverting to what the question before the court reailj^ is. They argue upon the authority of 'the ICing v. Wright,' and other cases which were not cited, supporting to the full extent that doctrine which I do not question — that the publication of any matter, however libellous or slanderous, which is put forward by indictment or otherwise in a court of judicial proceedings before a com- petent tribunal, is not the subject of a prosecution or an action for slander. In the case of ' the King v. Baillie,' a me- morial to the governors of Greenis'ich Hospital, printed and circulated among the members of the hospital was held not to LIFE AND TIMES OF O'CONNELL. 455 furnish a ground for prosecution, aitliough the charges in that memorial conveyed the severest censures against Lord Sand- wich and others, and imputed the gi-ossest criminality. But the cases which have decided upon the right to pubUsh the proceedings of a court of justice, have never yet gone the length of establishing the affirmative of what Mr. Justice Bay has throvrn out as a question for argument — whether ii, in the com*se of a legal proceeding, a gentleman of the bar were to transgress his duty and the bounds within which the exercise of that duty ought to be confined, a publication of the irrelevant and mischievous slander' in his speech could be justified by alleging that it was a report of all that he had uttered. Nothing to that extent has ever been de- cided, because such a case, thank God, has never hereto- fore occmTed, and although it is unnecessary to decide such a question here, it may not be unimportant, as the topic has been so much discussed, to remind the com-t of adjudications which fmiiish at least analogies on the subject. I trust that I shall not be considered as abdicating the claims of the pro- fession to an intrepid advocacy of our clients' cases if I say, that they are not higher than the claims of the members of both Houses to the privileges of the freedom of speech in par- liament. It is a settled lav/ that if a member of parhament, in the discharge of his duty as a representative of the people or as a hereditary counsellor of the crown, think proper to speak slanderously of any individual, although no man can question his freedom of speech, yet if he descends fi'om his character of a legislator — and, becoming a publisher, should print that speech, he abandons the scene of his privilege — he gets into another atmosphere; and, putting himself on a le\el with other men, is exposed to all those consequences which the law at- taches to the publication of slander. Such, your lordships know, was the case of Lord Abingdon ; such was the more re- cent decision in the case of a member of the Lower House. But, my lords, it is unnecessary to discuss that point in the present case, in which the question is very difierent. My lords, we did not seek to visit Mr. Magee with the consequence of this speech, either as a speech or the publication of coun- sel — that would be a subject of particular anxiety, difficulty, and delicacy. We should regret to think that there could exist a necessity for such a discussion ; but certainly there is no such necessity now. Mr. Magee is not brought before the court this day to have his punishment increased because his counsel delivered a particular speech — but because he has, as ap- 456 LIFE AND TIMES OF O CONXELL. pears, distinctly declared that the speech, such as it was, was made in consequence of his instructions — that he had directed his counsel to make it, and that his directions were given be- fore it was pronounced. This makes it perfectly justifiable to discuss that speech, and to see how far it is visitable upon the prisoner. Such a discussion cannot entrench upon any of the privileges of the client and the counsel, and is only unprece- dented because the crime is novel, and because there is no pre- cedent for such an enormous and monstrous delinquency. I must remind your lordships that the trial of Mr. Magee oc- cupied two days — the statement for the crown and the case on the part of the prosecution closed the first, and Mr. Magee and his counsel had a full opportunity of considering in what manner the defence should be brought forward on the follow- ing. After the trial, Mr. Magee publishes in his newspaper the entire proceeding — and at the conclusion of the report he not merely indulges in expressions of gratitude and admiration for his counsel's exertions, and asserts — not in any general or vague language, but in express terms — that he had instructed the counsel and warranted every part of the speech ; and that the topics of his advocate were precisely those which he had instructed him to urge. Here then is a man who neither trusts to the zeal nor discretion of his counsel, but delibe- rately prompts and suggests all the topics of a language before it is uttered and adopts them afterwards; and therefore, my lords, we come to this only question — whether a man who is brought to your bar to answer an accusation has a right to change characters with his accuser and his judges — to spring from the bar and seat himself upon the bench — to arraign the judge as a culprit — to arraign the jury and the officer of the crown as culprits. My lords, suppose the case of the prisoner having pleaded his own cause ; suppose that he were gifted with the eloquence of his counsel, and had stood up for himself and said, ' M3" business is not to defend myself ; I have no witnesses ; I come here to accuse you — to tell you, the jury, that you are a packed and unconstitutional jury — that you, the judge, are partial and corrupt; and you, Mr. Attorney- General, are talentless and degraded — what have you to say for your- selves ?' My lords, if Mr. Magee had conducted himself in that way, there could be no second opinion on the subject, and if the crown should insist that his conduct had aggravated his crime, your lordships would not allow him, because such an outrage had never before been heard of, to avail himself of the novelty of his transgression, and complain that the proceeding LIFE AND IDIES OF o'CONNELL. 457 of the crown was new and unprecedented. Then what is the distinction to be taken between Mr. Magee conducting himself in this manner at the bar, and instructing his counsel to do so ? I am very glad, my lord, that it is not necessary now to argue how far counsel can be justified in acting upon such instruc- tions. This is not the time or place for such a discussion. The privileges and the duties of counsel are important, and the investigation of their nature and extent is delicate. I do not wish to see them touched — and if they have been trans- gressed, I am not ah-aid to suppose that no permanent injury can arise from such an abuse in the perfect confidence that it will not occur again, and that the honom- and dignity of the profession -will assert themselves against the only instance of an imputation upon either. I own I felt alarm at my heart when I was told that this was a question of the privileges of the bar, and that these privileges were invaded by the present proceeding of the court ; and it gave me a pang when I heard it said, that in the name of the bar of Ireland this monstrous and enormous violation of all decency and justice, of which we complain, was to be justified and upheld- That allegation, however irrelevant, cannot be passed by and must be animad- verted upon. The inivilege of the bar is great indeed — a proud privilege to the advocate, valuable to the client, in- estimable to the public ; but, in point of fact, what right has Mr. Magee to complain ? His counsel was not interrupted in the delivery of a speech which took more than four hours to deliver, and if that speech were calculated to serve the client, Mr. Magee has had the full benefit of it. No one stepped be- tween the counsel and the jury — and the counsel has no right to say, that while he spoke the privileges of the bar were checked, or that the client was deprived of the benefit of his exertions. But as to the nature of those exertions — although I rejoice that it is not necessary to draw a precise line between the true privi- lege of the bar and a licentious abuse of it, and that much must be left to the judgment, to the feeling, the decorum, the honour, and the taste of the person who is to exercise it — yet I hope that I may not be supposed to suggest or to imply that there are no limits within which the duty of the advocate is to be confined. The privilege of the advocate is like the liberty of the pres^ I hope power may never invade and that in- fluence may never sap the one or the other — but they are both liable to greater danger from abuse, and exposed to that mortal blow and suicidal death which can only be inflicted by their own hands. If the press be abused to licentiousness, and 20 % 458 LIFE AKD TIMES OF o'CONNELL. the privilege of the bar runs riot and becomes outrageous, the consequence will be that both will cease to be of value, because both will be contemptible — no man will respect either. The authorit}^ which is prostituted is held cheap. The thunder of the press will become a bmtum fidmen, and the eloquence of the advocate will be worse than mischievous to the client ; the interest — the precious interest w^hich the public has in those privileges will be sacrificed, and sacrificed by those who afiect to maintain them. I trust, although I have the honoui' of holding an office under the crown, there has been nothing in my practice for a period of twenty years which has exposed me to the suspicion of compromising the privileges of my profession ; yet I cannot but feel that we best assert them by respecting them in our practice. The line may be said to be faint which separates our liberty from our licentiousness. I admit that it is so. It is a line of demarca- tion which every man must draw for himself. I never wish to see it defined, and while I hope it will never be transgressed, I trust it will always be understood. Even where those pri- vileges are wounded I would scarcely wish to probe the wound, and would touch it with a trembling hand, lest I should en- danger life ; but can any man be at a loss to suppose to him- self instances of the pei'\^ersion and prostitution of the invalu- able privileges of the bar. Suppose one of those characters were to revive whose infamy, recorded in history, has stigma- tized the prerogative lawj-ers of other times ; suppose an at- torney-general or solicitor-general were now so far to forget his duty to his country and his profession as to strain the law in favom' of prerogative — to revile and cheapen the authority and rights of juries — attack the popular and parliamentary branches of the constitution — assail the liberties of his countrymen, and, under the authority of his ofiice, preach the exploded doctrines of non-resistance and passive obedience ; would it be endured that when universal indignation overtook such a miscreant, he should be allowed to defend himself by alleging the privilege of the bar ? Would any man guilty of such abomination be permitted to say, ' In the name of the bar, I call for indulgence and protection.' On the other hand, suppose a hamster, en- trusted with the defence of a popular cause, should lend himself and sell his client to the purposes of faction — shquld play the incendiaiT under the mask of the advocate, and then call out, ' Here I am at the head of the Irish bar, and in their name I call for protection, and to be established in those privileges which I assert for them, and which the crown has invaded.' LIFE AND TDIES OF O'CONNELL. 459 I venture to assert tliat the one and the other would be dis- appointed, and that the man who so conducted himself, if he thought that the bar was following him, when he looked behind him would find that he stood alone. I feel, my lords, that I have been discussing a subject not necessarily under yom' consi- deration. But I own that I was warmed to jealousy when I was told that the question of the independence of the Irish bar was at stake upon this debate. I trust in God I may never see a case, civil or criminal, in which an advocate may do anything which will endanger its privileges or create a question upon its rights. . . . Now, my lords, see what it is that Mr. Magee has adopted. After a prefatory description of a judge, stated hj^pothetically, his counsel proceeds to say : ' Such a man, inflated by flattery and bloated by dignity, may hereafter use that character for sanctity which has served to promote him, as a sword to hew down the struggling libei-ties of his country ; such a judge may interfere before trial, and at the trial be a partisan. Gentlemen, should an honest jm-y — could an honest jury, if an honest jury were again found, listen with safety to the dictates of such a judge ?' '\'\Tiat a charge ! Against what a character ! My lord, I will put you out of the case. High as you are in talents and situation, venerable by rank and worth, you vanish into insignificance compared 't\ith the interest which belongs to the public in the adminis- tration of justice, thus insulted in your person. . . . He (Magee) had it in his power to say that he did not instruct his counsel to use that topic at all, or he might have sworn that if he did, he did not mean to apply the description to the chief justice. He has not availed himself of either opportunity; and, my lords, another opportunity was afforded this day, and the learned gentleman who made the speech might have dis- claimed the construction given to it. He has not done so ; and that horrible imputation which strikes at public station and private worth is fastened upon the prisoner, and remains un- explained. My lords, I pass fi'om that to another passage in the same speech, and find that, not content with defaming and in- sulting the first magistrate in the country in his own coml;, the jury, when they were impanneled, are distinctly charged with corruption and partiality by the criminal in his defence. * Would to God I had to address another jury ! Would to God I had reason and judgment to address, and I could entei-tain no ap- prehension from passion or prejudice.' This is a formidable and flagrant accusation against twelve honest men, impanneled on a solemn occasion to discharge an awful duty under the ob- 460 LIFE AND TIMES OF O'COXNELL, ligation of an oath publicly taken in a court of justice ; and your lordships have it now not only confessed by this gentle- man, but it is claimed by him, it is boasted of by him — as if he were jealous and afraid that his counsel might claim some share of the honour — that he himself precisely instructed his counsel to urge those topics and bring forward those calum- nies. Mr. Wallace has urged that your lordships must take it for granted that all topics which are relevant to the defence were the instructions of the client, but that all which were irre- levant were the effusions of the counsel. My lords, you can- not say for Mr. Magee what he has refused to say for himself. The same ingenuity which has suggested such a distinction as an argument, must have pointed out to Mr. Magee the impor- tance of etablishing the fact by an affidavit. He has not done so, and he must abide the consequences. Surely, my lords, I am not called upon to further enlarge upon the nature of this most unparalleled proceeding, in which a culprit, indicted for an offence for which he is liable to punishment, has in the progi'ess of his trial arraigned the justice of the country, ca- lumniated the prosecutor, insulted the judge, and vilified the jury. Your lordships have to decide this day whether by such conduct he has not added to his original guilt, and whether public example does not call for an aggravation of his punish- ment. My lords, the effects of such slander are not confined to these characters who have been defamed, or even the admi- nistration of justice in our own land. The character of our country is at stake — and vrith its character, its safety. Think of the consequences of such a slander sent abroad by the wide- spreading circulation of his newspaper. Think of the difierent lands in which such a slander will be received and not refuted. Think what topics it would furnish for the manifestoes of an in- vading foe supported by domestic incendiaries ; think with what authority they might invite a, people to insun^ection to whom they procla^ that the administration of justice is corrupt at the heart — that the laws are enforced by degi-aded characters, expounded by profligate judges, perverted by partial and un- principled juries. Who could blame the deluded people who ehould rise against such a government, undei which they are to believe that there is no security for their properties, liber- ties, or lives. But, my lords, let me cai-ry the supposition a step further, and suppose this slander to be spread through the ranks of the Spanish armies and addressed to the Spanish Cortes — amongst whom we are told that it is to be disseminated in theii' own language — suppose it to disgust, or neutrahze, or LIFE AND TIMES OF o'CONNELL. 46 1 SOW discord amongst those allies now confederated for the de- liverance of Europe and the establishment of all the dearest interests of civiHzed society. Can the prisoner's conscienco permit him to assert that I am only stating an imaginary case ? I claim the liberty contended for by his counsel of speaking hypothetically — but I ask him, is it a mere supposition if I assert that a mahgnant newspaper, in the midst of its most, prosperous and brilliant career, may thwart the valour and frustrate the victories of our gallant countryman, by basely representing him to the high and jealous nobility of Spain, as aspiring to the crown of that country which his talents and courage have redeemed? I am not at liberty to pursue this topic fiirther, and shall only say that if such baseness were capable of aggravation, it would be found in the deliberate malignity of the author of so much mischief, if after he had witnessed the success of the slander, and saw the poison he had prepared working to his wish, he should republish the atrocious calumny, triumph in its efficacy, and claim from another libeller the disputed honour of having originated it." In the bosom of O'Connell, while listening to the cunning tissue of delusive sophistry woven by the brain and tongue of the solicitor-general, the fiercest passions which ever shook the heart of man were heaving and struggling for utter- ance. But he over-mastered and kept them down, while secretly vowing again and again to rend the chain that galled his country — to battle with oppression and boldl}' confront the servile mj-rmidons of authority. It is impossible to describe his feelings — the unspeakable disgust, the indignant scorn with which he heard the crawling spawn of political corruption, who had been foisted on the bench by the basest statesmen in European history, hailed by the well-schooled sophist who pleaded for oppression, as ministers of justice ! They had no true title to that appellation. Far from being worthy of sitting on the bench, the Union judges richly deserved to be arraigned at the bai' as guilty of the blackest perfidy and the foulest treachery that ever disgraced mankind. They were unques- tionably eimined criminals — and it is therefore impossible to describe the boiling emotions with which O'Connell heard Bushe ofi'ering those foul idols the incense of his mercenary homage. But we may rest assm-ed that O'Connell's patriotic purposes were confirmed, that his determination was re- doubled, and that he vowed and vowed again, secretly and so- lemnly, to struggle for the right and battle against oppression. The sentiments which filled his mind on this occasion were 462 LIFE AND TDIES OF o'CONNELL. those of the poet of after times who said so nobly and $o boldly : " Let the coward shrink aside — We'll have our own again ! r Let the brawling slave deride — Here's for our own again ! Let the tyi-ant bribe and he, March, threaten, fortify, Loose his lav.")'er and his spy — Yet we'll have oui* own again ! Let, him soothe in silken tone, Scold from his foreign throne, Let him come with bugles blown — We shall have our own again ! Let us to our purpose bide — • We'll have our own again ! Let the game be fairly tried — We'll have our own again ! Calm as granite to our foes — Stand for our own again ! Till his wrath to madness grows — • Fum for our own again ! Bravely hope and wisely wait, Toil, join, and educate, Man is master of his fate — We'll enjoy our own again ! With a keen, constrained thirst, Like the mine before it burst, Making ready for the worst — So we'll get our own again ! Let us to our purpose bide — We'll have our own again ! God is on the righteous side — We'll have our own again !" Something like this would have been O'Connell's answer to the sophistry of Bushe could he have unbosomed his secret soul, for in his subsequent proceedings he reahzed something very similar. Despite the pleadings of Wallace and t!ie oratory of O'Con- nell, the sentence pronounced by Justice Day — a man grossly ignorant of law and ludicrously imbecile in mind — was horribly severe. Magee was ordered to pay £500 to the government, to find two securities in £500 each, and to give security him- self in the sum of £1,000 for good behaviour during seven years. In addition to this monstrous infliction, Magee was sentenced to pine for two years in gaol, and "to be further imprisoned until such fine was paid and such security given." It was a cruel, revolting, and horrible sentence, which glaringly proves — what indeed every page of Irish historv proves so LIFE AND TIMES OP o'CONNELL. 463 glaringh'- — that the many-lieaded monster, aristocracy, has no compassion — has no conscience. On that corrupt and titled class in whose interest and at whose beck it was pronounced, it re- flected indelible disgrace. In striking at Magee, the aristocracy were really striking at O'Connell. These men were maddened by O'Connell's eloquence. His ascending and enlightening power tortured them with teror uneasiness, and abhorrence. Knowing, as they did, the triumphs which eloquence in all ages has achieved — the torpidity it has kindled into active life, the resistance it has vanquished, and the oppression it has broken down — and this under circumstances in which the sword has been parried and gold repudiated — they regarded O'Connell with malignant hate and suspicious dread. The subject of their apprehension was not his knowledge or his patriotism, his honesty and courage, his genius and wisdom — it was his amazing power of speech, which exhibited the vari- coloured hues of hi^ exhaustless mind as well as the solid sub- stance of his deep sagacity, and wafted the echo of his melo- dious voice over the green hills and down the valleyed rivers of his native country, far beyond the mural precincts of that narrow court, to repose in the hearts of thousands who never saw the persuasive speaker. Nor was it his striking de- scriptions and irresistible invectives — it was not his humoui* which made men laugh, nor his pathos which made them weep, that the aristocracy dreaded — it was the hard and stubborn facts, the extensive and accurate knowledge on which he solidly based his brilliant illustrations and bursts of feeling. It was TRUTH ! Like a transient torrent from the mountain, the gush of passion mil pass away — like the fairy frost-work of a winter's night, the pictures of the imagination will disappear ; but indestructible truth, embedded in the mind, remains, assimilates, and becomes part of the human intellect. The severe sentence on Magee was unquestionably illegal. In the semblance of precedent which was adduced by the solicitor-general in the case of the King v. Baillie, the de- fendant was punished for an apology published by himself — he was not punished for a speech delivered by another. But slavish subserviency to an unscrupulous aristocracy, and reck- less hostility to the rights and liberties of the people — not an acquamtance with legal science — placed judges upon the bench who were notoriously partizan and disgracefull}^ imcompetent. Yet, in delivering judgment. Day had the inconceivable effron- tery to compliment a court whose judges had been appointed by the infamous governments of Sidmouth and Castlereagh, as 464 LIFE A^•D TIMES OF COK^'ELL. a " sober, unimpassioned, and dignified tribunal !" Nothing conld be farther from the truth. In the nisi /)n'u5, for in- stance, the " performances " of the presiding judge were greatly preferable, in the decline of the Dublin stage, to any theatricaJ exhibition. Lord Norbury, in that court, was at the head of an excellent company ; and as he drew exceeding full houses, Frederick Jones sometimes looked at him with considerable jealousy, and was said to have been advised by Seijeant Gould, who had a share of £'3,000 in Crowe-street Theatre, to file a bill for an injunction against the chief justice for an infringement of his patent. As the judge so essentially contri- buted to the amusement of the public, he gradually grew into general favour, and was held in something like the reverence which is entertained by the upper galleries for an eminent actor of farce. The spirit of the judge extended itself naturally enough to the counsel, and men who were grave and consi- derate everywhere else, threw off all soberness and propriety, and became infected with the habits of the venerable manager of the court the moment they entered the Common Pleas. — His principal performers were Messrs. Grady, Gould, and Keller, who instituted a sort of rivalry in uproar, and played against each other. With such a judge and such auxiliaries to co-operate with him, some idea may be formed of the attrac- tions which were held out to that numerous class who have no fixed occupation, and by whom, in the hope of laughing want away, the Four Courts in Dublin were frequented. Long before his lordship took his seat, the galleries were densely filled with faces expressive of idleness, haggardness, and humour. At about eleven, his lordship's registrar, Mr. Peter Jackson, used to slide in with an official leer ; and a little after, the judge entered with a grotesque waddle, and having bowed to the bar, cast his eyes about the court. Perceiving a full house, an obvious expression of satisfaction pervaded his countenance ; and if he saw in the crowd any of his ac- quaintance of a noble family, such as Lord Claudius Beresford, who had a good deal of time on his hands, he ordered the tip- staff to make way for the gentleman ; and in order, we pre- sume, to add to the dignity of the proceedings, placed him be- side himself on the bench. While the jury were being sworn he either nodded familiarly to most of them, occasionally ob- servincr, ' ' A most respectable man ! " or if the above-mentioned, celebrated member of the house of Curraghmore chanced to be next him, was engaged in so pleasant a vein of whispering, that it was conjectured from the heartiness of his laugh that LIFE AlvD XniES OF o'CON'XELL, 465 he must have been talking of the recreations of the Pii'iing house and the amusements of 1793. The junior counsel hav- ing opened the pleadings, Lord Norbury generally exclaimed, *' A very promising young man ! Jackson, what is that young gentleman's name?'' **Mr. , my lord." "What — of the county Cork ? I knew it by his air. Sir, you are a gentle- man of very high pretensions — and I protest I have never heard the many counts stated in a more dignified manner ia all my life. I hope I shall find you, like the paper before me, a daily freeman in my court." Having despatched the junior, whom he was sure to make the luckless but sometimes not inappropriate victim of his encomiums, he sunered the leading counsel to proceed. As he was considered to have a strong bias towards the plaintiff, experimental attorneys brought into the common pleas the very worst and most dis- creditable ventm*es in Htigation. The statement of the case, therefore, generally disclosed some paltry ground of action, which however did not prevent his lordship from exclaiming at the outset, '* A very important action indeed ! If you make out your facts in evidence, Mr. Grady, there will be serious matter for the jury." The evidence was then produced, and the witnesses often consisted of wretches culled from stews or cellars, whose emaciated and discoloured countenances showed their want and their depravity ; while their watchful and working eyes intimated that mixture of sagacity and humour by which the lower and sufiering order of Irish wit- nesses is distinguished. They generally appeared in coats and and breeches the external decency of which, being hired for the occasion, was ludicrously contrasted with the ragged and filthy shirt which Henry Deane Grady, who was well ac- quainted with the inner man of an Irish witness (though not without repeated injunctions to unbutton), at last com- pelled them to disclose. The cross-examinations of this gen- tleman were admirable pieces of the most serviceable and dexterous extravagance. He was the Scarron of the bar ; and few of the most skilful and practised of the horde of perjurers whom he was employed to encounter, could successfully with- stand the exceedingly droll and comical scrutiny through which he forced them to pass. He had a kind of '• hail-fehow- well- met" manner with every varlet, which enabled him to get into his heart and core, until he had completely turned him inside out, and excited such a spmt of roirth, that the knave whom he was uncovering could not help joining in the meniment which the detection of his viUany had TDioduced. Lord X orburj, hoYrever, 466 LIFE AND THIES OF O'CONNELL. ^Ylien lie saw Grady pushing the plaintiff to extremities, nsed to come to his aid and rally the broken recollections of the witness. This interposition called the defendant's counsel into stronger action, and they were as vigorously encountered by the counsel on the other side. Interruption created remonstrance, remon- strance called forth retort, retort generated sarcasm ; and at length voices were raised so loud, and the blood of the forensic combatants was so warmed, that a general scene of confusion, to which Lord Norbury amply contributed, took place. The up- roar gradually increased until it became tremendous — and to add to the tumult, a question of law, which plunged Lord Xorbury's faculties into complete chaos, was thrown into the conflict. Grady and Norcott shouted on one side, Wallace and Gould upon the other ; and at last Lord Norbury, the witnesses, the counsel, the parties, and the audience were involved in one universal riot, in which it was difficult to determine whether the laughter of the audience, the exclamations of the parties, the protestations of the witnesses, the cries of the counsel, or the bellowing of Lord Norbury predominated. At length, however, his lordship's superiority of lungs prevailed ; and like Eolus in his cavern (of whom, with his puffed cheeks and in- flamed visage, he would furnish a painter with a model) he shouted his stormy subjects into peace. These scenes re- peatedly occurred during the trial, until at last both parties had closed, and a new exhibition took place. This was Lord Norbury's monologue, commonly called a charge. He usually began by bestowing the loftiest encomiums upon the party in the action against whom he intended to advise the jury to give their verdict. For this the audience were well prepared ; and accordingly, after he had stated that the defendant was one of the most honourable men alive, and that he knew his fathei* and loved him, he suddenly came with a most singular em- phasis, which he accompanied with a strange shake of the wig, to the fatal " but," which made the audience, who were in ex- pectation, burst into a fit of laughter, while he proceeded to charge, as he almost uniformly did, in favour of the plaintiff. He then entered more deeply, as he said, into the case, and flinging his judicial robe half aside, and sometimes casting off his wig, started from his seat, and threw off a wild harangue, in which neither law, method, nor argument could be discovered. It generally consisted 'of narratives connected with the history of his early life, which it was impossible to associate with the subject, of jests from Joe Miller, mixed with jokes of his own manufacture, and of sarcastic allusions to any of the counsel LIFE AND TIMES OP O'CONNELL. 467 who had enJeavom'ccl to check him during the trial. He was exceedingly fond of quotcations from Milton and Shakspeare, which, however out of place, were very well delivered, and evinced an excellent enunciation. At the conclusion of the charge he made some efforts to call the attention of the jm'y to any leading incident which particularly struck him, but what he meant it was not easy to conjecture ; and when he sat down, the whole performance exhibited a mind which re- sembled a whirlpool of mud, in which law, facts, arguments, and evidence were lost in unfathomable confusion. To con- ceive what Norbury really was, and his stupendous extrava- gances, it would be necessary to see him — to have witnessed the prodigy itself. In his capacity of judge, sitting in full court with his three coadjutors about him, he was almost as ludicrous as in his more tumultuous office of jester at nisi prius. In his person and that of Judge Mayne the court presented at one time a most amusing and laughable contrast. Never was Eochefoucault's maxim, that " gravity is a mystery of the body to hide the defects of the mind," more strongly exemplified than in the solemn figure which sat for many years at Norbm-y's left hand in his administration of the law — by the profound stagnation of his impertui'bable countenance, which improved on Gratiano's description of a grave man, and not more in stillness than in colour resembled " a standing pool" — by a cei-tain shake of his head, which, moving with the mechanical oscillation of a wooden mandarin, made him look like the image of Confucius which is plastered on the dome of the Four Courts — by his long and measured sentences, which issued in tones of oracular solemnity from his thin and ashy lips — by his slow and even gait, and systematic and regular gesture, Judge Mayne had contrived, when at the bar, to im- pose himself as a gi'eat lawj-er on the public. When he be- came a judge — upon the day on which he, for the first time, took his seat — Jerry Keller, one of his contemporaries, and a bitter wag,- came into court, and seeing him enthroned in his dignity with his scarlet robes about him, leaned over the bar- bench, and said, stretching out his shrewd, sardonic face : *' Well, Mayne, there you are! You have been floated into port by your gravity, and I have been sunk and shipwrecked by my levity !" This pragmatical judge, who was considered deep while he was only dark and muddy, was fixed, as if for the purpose of contrast, beside Lord Norbury ; but so far from diminishing * See page 318. 468 LIFE AND TIMES OF O'COXNELL. the effect of his judicial drolleries, the vapid melancholy of the one brought the vivacity of his companion into stronger light. In truth, the solemnity of Judge Majme was nearly as comical as Lord Norbiu-y's humour ; and when seeing a man enter the court who had forgotten to uncover, Judge Mayne rose and said : " I see you standing there, like a wild beast, with your hat on," the pomp of his utterance, and the measured dignity with which this splendid figm-e in Irish oratory was enunciated, excited nearly as much meniment as the purposed jokes and ostentatious merriment of the chief of the court. Nothing, not even Lord Norbury, could induce his brother judge to smile. His featm-es seemed to have some inherent and natural incompatibility with laughter which the Momus of the bench could not remove. While peals rang upon peals of merriment, and men were obliged to hold their sides lest they should burst with excess of ridicule, Judge Mayne stood silent, starch, and composed, and never allowed his muscles of rusty iron to give way in any "unmeet and extra-judicial relaxation. This union of the allegro and ^9^?z5^>-oso was invaluable to the seekers of fun in the common pleas, and it was with regret that the merry public were informed that Judge Mayne had been advised by his phj-sicians to retire from the bench and take up his residence in France. He went, it was stated, to Paris, where he used occasionally to walk, in the brilliant afternoons of that enchanting climate, in the garden of the Tuilleries ; and Scott's " Quentin Durward" being then in vogue. Judge Maj^ne was taken for the spectre of Trois Echelles. It is perfectly evident that such judges as the foregoing were ill calculated to inspire a mind like O'Conneil's with much respect. Elevated to the bench as they had been for their un- scrupulous services and corrupt subserviency at the time of the Union, they excited in O'Conneil's patriotic mind loathing and even abhorrence. They were shufflers, traitors, and ermined pettifoggers. This is quite evident alike from their origin and their acts. Hence the terrible invectives which O'Connell sometimes poured upon theu' guilty heads. O'Connell may be blamed for the vehemence of his philippics, but in forming a judgment of his conduct, we must take into consideration the noxious character of the dignitaries against whom he inveighed. Their corruption is beyond all doubt. The judges of that day were mere tools m the hands of an unscrupulous aristocracy. The place of Judge Mayne was latterly supplied by Justice LIFE AND TIMES OF O'CONNELL. 469 Johnson ; and then a scene of a different character, but still exceedingly amusing, was afforded. Lord Norbury was now most unhappily situated, for he had Judge Fletcher upon one hand and Judge Johnson upon the other. The former was a man of vigorous and brawny mind, with a rude but powerful gi'asp of thought, and with considerable acquirements both in literature and in his profession. He was destitute of all ele- gance, either mental or external, but made up for the deficiency by the massive and robust character of his understanding. He had been a devoted whig at the bar, and hated Lord Norbury for his politics, while he held his intellect in con- tempt. Dissimulation was not among his attributes — and as his indifferent health produced a great infirmity of temper (for he was the converse of what the Frenchman defines as a happy man, as he had a bad stomach and a good heart), he was at no pains to conceal his contempt for his brother on the bench. Judge Johnson, who occupied the seat on Lord Norbury's left hand, completed his misfortunes in juxta- position. There was nothing whatever about Judge Johnson to be laughed at, although his bursts of temper might oc- casionally provoke a smile ; but in adding to Lord Norbury's calamities he augmented the diversions of the court. He was less habitually dissatisfied than Judge Fletcher, whose cha- racteristic was moroseness rather than irritability — but he had a vehemence and impetuosity about him which, whenever his sense of propriety was violated, he could not restrain. When the chief justice who was thus disastrously placed was giving judgment (if the hodge-podge which he served up for the gene- ral entertainment can be so called), the spectacle derived from the aspect of his brother judges furnished a vast accession of amusement. Judge Fletcher, indignant at all the absurdity which was thrown up by Lord Norbury, expressed his disgust by the character of biHous severity which spread over his countenance, of which the main characteristic was a fierce sourness and a scornful discontent. Judge Johnson, on the other hand, endeavoured to conceal his anger, and placing his elbows on the bench and thrusting his clenched hands upon his mouth, tried to stifle the indignation with which, however, it was obvious he was beginning to tumefy. After a little while, a growl was heard from Judge Fletcher, while Judge Johnson responded with a groan. But undeterred by any such gentle admonition, their incomparable brother, v/ith a desperate intrepidity, held on his way. Judge Fletcher had a habit, when exceedingly displeased, of rocking himself in his 470 LIFE AND TUIES OF O'CONNELL. seat, and as he was of a considerable bulk, his swinging, which was known to be an intimation of his augmenting anger, was familiar to the bar. As Lord Norbury advanced, the os- cillations, accompanied with a deeper growling, described a greater segment of a circle, and shook the whole bench; while Judge Johnson, with his shaggy brows bent and con- tracted over his face, and with his eyes flashing with passion, used, mth an occasional exclamation of mingled indignation and disgust, to turn himself violently round. Still, on Lord Norbury went — until at length Judge Fletcher, by his pendu- lous vibrations, came into actual collision \vith him upon one side, and Judge Johnson, by his averted shrug, hit him upon the shoulder upon the other ; when, awakened by the simul- taneous shock, his lordship gave a start, and looking round the bar, who were laughing at the whole proceeding, dis- charged two or three puiFs, and turning to the wall of the court, retaliated from the bench for the aspersions which had been cast upon him. Such was Lord Norbury as a judge. In private life he had been always remarkable for his frugality — not to say stingi- ness. He was in the habit of stufSng papers into the old chairs in his study, in order to supply the deficiency of horse- hair which the incumbency of forty years had produced in their bottoms. At last, however, they became — even with tho aid of this occasional supplement — unfit for use, and were sent by his lordship to a shop in which old furniture was ad- vertised to be bought and sold. An individual of the namo of Monaghan got one of these chairs into his possession, and while groping the hair and scrutinizing the contents, he made a discovery which appalled himself and threw the city into such a ferment, that the hubbub which distracted Dublin for some time subsequently could hardly be exceeded by that of Babel itself. Monaghan had been a clerk in an attor- ney's office, and knew Saurin's handwriting. He perceived by the superscription of a letter that it was written by the attorney-general, and on opening it he found the following words, addi'essed to a chief justice and a going judge of assize ■by the principal law officer of the croT\Ti. It proved clearlj^ that the so-called " independence of the judges " is a ridiculous farce : "DubHn Castle. "I transcribe for you a very sensible part of Lord Ross's letter to me : * A-s Lord Norbury goes our circuit,' says Lord Ross, ' and as he is personally acquainted with the gentlemen of om- county, a hint to him may be of use. He is in the LIFE AND TIMES OP o'CONNELL. 471 habit of talking individually to them [the gentlemen of the county] in his chamber at Philipstown, and if he were to im- press on them the consequence ot the measure [Emancipation], viz., that ho^Yever they may think otherwise, the Catholics would, in spite of them [the gentlemen of county], elect Ca- tholic members, if such were eligible ; and that the CathoHc members would then have the nomination of sheriffs, and in many instances perhaps of the judges, and the Protestants would be put in the back ground as the Catholics v/ere fonnerly, I think he would bring the effect of the measure home to themselves, and satisfy them that they could scarcely submit to live in the country if it were passed.' So far Lord Ross.* But he suggests in another part of his letter, ' That if Pro- testant gentlemen who have votes, and influence, and in- terest, v/ould give these venal members to understand that ii they will purchase Catholic votes by betraying their country, they shall infallibly lose theirs' [their own votes], 'it would alter their conduct, though it could neither make them honest or respectable.' If you will judiciously administer a little of this medicine to the Icing's County and other members of par- liament that may fall in your way, you will deserve well. Many thanks for your letter and its good intelligence from Mary- borough. Jebbf is a most valuable fellow — and of the sort that is most wanted. Affectionately and tmly yours, ' ' Yf ILLI AM S A URIN . ' ' Thig document was seized on by O'Connell to prove the fact, which was often insisted on, that poison had been pom-ed into the highest sources of justice. It astonished the Protes- tants that a man so cautious and deliberate as WilHam Saurin, should put himself in the power of a man so loose and slob- bering as Norbury, by entrusting him with a communication which was calculated to ruin the writer. On the fii'st dis- closure of the letter, the friends of Saurin loudly asserted that no constitutional lawyer — not to talk of the high priest of the constitution, as they considered Sauiin — could have been-guilty of writing such an illegal document. They scoffed at the idea ; but afterwards, when the authenticity of the handwriting proved it genuine, and the trembling author did not venture to deny it, Robert Peel contented himself with declaiming against the mere impropriety of its production. The discovery of this * Lord Ross was at this time a ferocious big-ot, though before he got his title he had been liberal and even patriotic, t Judge Jebb. 472 LITE AND TTiTES OF o'CONNELL. letter was very prejudicial to Saniin, as the aristocracy found it impossible with any decency to promote a man who per- petrated such an oversight ; but it was of use to Lord Nor- bury. When his incompetence as a judge was mentioned in parliament, the Orange faction — who, to do them justice, are always faithful to the aristocracy — considered themselves bound by every principle of their association to support "the hanging judge;" and as a consequence of this, Goulbum, with the e&ontery which distinguished him, pronounced a panegyric on his judicial excellencies, and stated, to the gi*eat and just in- dignation of the other judges of the common pleas, that in a difficult and complicated case he had evinced more knowledge and astuteness than any of them. To this encomium Robert Peel gave his sanction. Finding himself thus sustained by the Orange party in the House of Commons, Lord Norbury turned a deaf ear to all private solicitations of which his resig- nation was the object. At length O'Connell presented a peti- tion for his removal, setting forth, among other grounds, that he had fallen asleep dui'ing the trial of a murder case, and was unable to give any account of the evidence when called on for his notes by the lord lieutenant. If O'Connell never rendered any other service to the Irish, his efforts to push Lord Nor- bury fi'om the bench deserve their lasting gi*atitude. It is scai'cely an exaggeration to say that Norbury, hearing cases in a dozing, dreaming, Lethean sort of half consciousness, murdered the prisoners on whom he passed sentence of death. The recklessness of Irish life which has always characterized the English aristocracy, was never more glaringly conspicuous than in their nefai'ious efforts to baffle O'Connell and retaiB Norbury on the bench. It was boldly alleged in his defence that at eighty he was quite as fit to administer justice as at any former period of his life. '* That is perfectly true," said O'Connell, *' because he was not fit to administer justice at anytime." His intellect, which had never been very able, was obfuscated, bewildered, and mummified by the growing infir- mities of age. He could not remain awake, and was often at his wit's end. The moment the defendant's counsel began to speak, his empty head dropped helplessly on his unfeeling breast, and the sluggish old man was buried in droning tor- pidity, from which he stai-ted up with bewilderment only to plunge the next moment into the same slumberous lethargy. M was a kind of disease which, with all his skill, O'Connell could not cure. Mr. Scarlett, to whom the Detition of O'ConneU was entrusted. LIFE AND TDIES OF o'CONNELL. 473 did not move upon it in consequence of a personal assurance from Peel that he would do everything in his power to induce Norbury to retire of his own accord. For although Peel ostensibly defended him as a friend and partisan, yet he was in reality ashamed of such an incubus on the bench. Norbury at last went so far as to intimate that he would consult his friends on the subject, but required a reasonable time to do so, which was granted. After the lapse of a month, Mr. Goulbum called again to know the result of his deliberations, when his lordship stated that Lord Combermere was his most particular friend, and that he had written to him at Calcutta. Mr. Goulburn, finding himself thus evaded, was a good deal at a loss what to do. But suddenly Mr. Canning became lord of the ascendant, and Lord Norbury, who never wanted cunning, feeling that under the new system he could not expect the sup- port of ministers, wisely came into terms, and having stipulated for an earldom as a consideration, resigned in favour of Lord Plunket, who, like an unskilful aeronaut, made a bad descent into the common pleas. Before such judges as we have now described O'Connell was often obliged to plead the cause of the oppressed, and his con- tempt was naturally awaked by this forensic familiarity Perhaps no case ever occurred in which the corrupt character of the ermined slaves w4th whose presence the Irish were, in 1813, cursed by the English aristocracy, was so glaringly ex- emplified as in the trial of Hugh Fitzpatrick, printer and pub- lisher of Scully's " Statement of the Penal Laws." The book brought out by this spirited Catholic — one of the most mas- terly treatises in the English language — had exasperated the whole host of Orange oppressors with unutterable fury. Their rage knew no bounds, and they determined to \isit on the printer's head the penalty which (if any one were punishable) the talented author had incurred. At the period of the trial Fitzpatrick had been forty years in business. His character was irreproachable, his manners unassuming, and his mind educated. The aristocracy pounced upon a passage in the book — a few lines — a mere note. On this they based their prosecution. It related to a man named Barry, who had been found guilty by his nefarious judge, exculpated by subsequent circumstances, and illegally executed by the common hangman. The allusion to this governmental mm-der set the oppressors delii'ious with rage. Here is the note: "At the summer assizes, Kilkenny, 1810, one Barry was convicted of a capital offence, for which he was afterwards executed. This man's 474 LIFE .VND TIMES OF o'CONNELL. case was tral}' tragical. He was wholly innocent ; was a re- spectable Catholic farmer in the county of Waterford, in good fcircumstances. His innocence was clearly established in the interval between his conviction and execution ; yet ho was hanged, publicly avowing his innocence. There were somo shocking circumstances, attending which the Duke of Rich- mond's administration ma}- yet be invited to explain to parlia- ment." This passage the aristocracy tore out, held up, and raged, and clamoured about as an outrageous vioiiation of truth The men v/ho made all this noise might be fau'ly addressed in the words of Swift: • " Ye paltry underlings of state — Ye officers who love to prate — Ye rascals of inferior note, Who for a dinner sell a vote — Y^e pack of pensionary peers, Whose fingers itch for loriters' ears — Ye bishops far removed from saints, Why all this rage — why these complaints r " Why against printers all this noise — This "summoning of blackguard boys ? W^hy so sagacious in yoiu* guesses — Y'our effis and tees, your ars and esses. Take ray advice, to make you safe, T know a shorter way by half — The point is plain — remove the cause." The aristocracy knew that, according to an affidavit, Barry, when the crime was committed, was forty miles from the scene of offence. They could not deny that the truth or falsehood of the afiidavit affirming this fact had never been investigated by the law officers of the crown. The information stated that "William Sam-in came into court, and gave that court to understand that Hugh Fitzpatrick, "being a wicked, malicious, and ill-disposed person, and wickedly and maliciously contriving and intending to scanda- lize, traduce, and vilify his Grace the Duke of Richmond and his majesty's ministers in Ireland, . . wickedly and mali- ciously did publish, and did cause to be published, in a certain book or pamphlet, a certain false, malicious, and seditious libel of and concerning his said Grace the Duke of Richmond, lord lieutenant of Ireland, and his majesty's ministers in Ireland, &c." Here the passage relating to Barry which we have given above was quoted, and the jury having been sworn, Saurin stated the information and plea. *' This is not an ordinary libel," said Saurin ; " it is not a sudden eiiusion of faction and LIFE AND TIMES OP O'CONNELL. 475 malignity sent in a hurry to a daily paper ; but it is contained in a very elaborate work, prepared with extreme art and deli- beration. It is contained in the second part of that work, which came out a considerable distance of time after the fii'st part of the same had been published. It is entitled, * A State- ment of the Penal Laws which aggrieve the Catholics of Ireland, with Commentaries.' The number of grievances which are alleged in this book to exist are found sufficient to fill two volumes octavo. . . . This book has the audacity to re- present, without any regard to truth or decency, that the ad- ministration of justice by judges and juries is partial ; and the object of it is, to impress upon the mind of the Eoman Catholics of Ireland that they have not the benefit of the laws, and can- not obtain justice under the present constitution and govern- ment of the empire. ... I shall call your attention now to that part of the chapter where the author enters upon a dis- tinct branch of the administration of justice. He introduces it with a libel on the lord lieutenant for the time being — who- ever he may be ; he applies this calumny in succession to every lord lieutenant. The governors may change, but the libel applies equally to every one who may hold the situation, upon the principle that as the government is now constituted by law, he must be of the Protestant religion : ' In cases where the Protestant murderer or robber has been convicted, his Protestantism has secm-ed his pardon.' Where a Protestant has committed a murder or a robbery, his professing a religion which he disgraces is a sufficient recommendation to the lord lieutenant for mercy. Could we, gentlemen, have supposed that any man in this country would have been found base enough to assert so infamous a libel as that the murderer and the robber find a sanctuary, in the reHgion which he has disgraced, from the sentence of the law ? It proceeds : * All the local soi-cUsant loyaHsts fall to work; memorials and peti- tions are prepared and subscribed ; vouchers of excellent cha- racter are easily procured — even Catholics dare not withhold their signatures lest they should be stigmatized as sanguinary and merciless. Thus the testimony appears unanimous, and the lord lieutenant readily pardons — perhaps promotes the convict, who in some instances becomes henceforth a che- rished object of favom*.' Good God ! must not the author of this abomination have known that in the exercise of this painful and responsible duty, no applications — come from what quarter they may — have any influence with him who exercises it. if the guilt be clear ? ... It is impossible to dwell 476 LIFE A2fD TIMES OF O'CONNELL. Upon this without feeling emotions which cannot be Bnppressed. It is a call upon the people to break out into civil and religious war; such topics would not be used and urged with such Jesuitical art, labour, and perseverance as exist in every part of this work, if the object of the author were not to effect a revolution by the means of a civil and religious war. If I did not prosecute this crime, I should not deserve to hold the situation with which I am invested. I beg to impress on your mind that this is no forced or unnatural construction. The contrasted situation of the Koman Catholic convict is not stated in the broad language of the former proposition, because it would be too monstrous ; but you will find the insinuation is equally broad : ' On the other hand, where the prisoner is a Catholic, he is destitute of this powerful agency and interfer- ence. His witnesses, as may be expected, are usually persons of his own condition and family. It is true, they may swear positively to an effectual and legal defence wholly uncontra- dicted — but not being Protestant (that is respectable, the epithet attached to everything Protestant), they commonly fail to meet with credence.' Gentlemen, I appeal to your own expe- rience. Do you ever hear the counsel, or the jury, or the party ask a witness what his religion is, or attempt to discredit him on that account ? it is a tissue of libels, the most shock- ing and mischievous that could be invented. * Should he be convicted, a thousand rumours are immediately circulated to the prejudice of his general character — he is proscribed as a dangerous man, a leader of a faction ; no grand jury interferes in his behalf, and he suffers death publicly protesting his in- nocence, fortified by the testimony of his confessor's belief of his veracity, and exciting the sj^mpathy and regrets of the people.' This is a representation of a general conspiracy among the Protestant community to destroy a Catholic who has been convicted in a court of justice ; insinuating to the Catholic population that they are denied mercy upon idle rumom'S, without even ascertaining from what source they proceed ; representing the exercise of this important trust as a subject of continued and abominable abuse — yielding to the vouchers of character in favour of the guilty Protestant, and to idle rumour against the innocent Roman Catholic. This is the • ... import of the chapter to which the particular libel m question refers. It commenced with a general libel on the office of the lord lieutenant by charging him with two crimes — pardoning the murderer and robber if Protestant, and suffering the innocent man to be executed merely because he is a CathoHc. Tha LIFE AND TIMES OF o'CONNELL. 477 writer concludes this part by a note, to illustrate and prove by a fact and an example the imputation which he throws upon the government, and sufficient to inflame the Catholic mind to madness. ... I think it proper, in this stage of my statement, to mention that I was last night served with a crown summons, on the part of the defendant, to attend as a witness in this case, together with the Eight Honorable Lord Norbury, Sir Charles Saxton, and William Gregory, Esq., re- quiring me to produce and give in evidence the affidavits Oi' tfames Rogers, Maurice Macartney, Thomas Hackett, sen., and Thomas Hackett, jun., and David Barry, and all other papers relating to Philip Barry, who was tried for highway robbery and executed for the same, as I should answer the contrary at my peril. I confess that my indignation was not a little ex- cited at this attempt to pervert the trial of a culprit for a libel into an engine of faction, to furnish fresh matter for libels upon Ihe administration of justice and the government of the country. They who advised the service of the summons, I am sure, could not but know that your lordships would not permit them to convert the court of king's bench into a court of parliament to try the king's government on the arraignment of the publisher of an infamous libel. They knew that it is impossible, accord- ing to the rules of law and the ordinary course of proceedings, to go into an examination of the matter pointed at in the sum- mons. They knew that neither this court, nor I as the attorney- general, would sufler the com'se of the law to be so abused and perverted. It belongs to my office alone to put the subject on his defence for an imputed crime. It is not for the libeller to arrogate that privilege. . . I shall say very little more upon the subject. But I cannot avoid taking notice that this work — *' The Statement of the Penal Laws " — is reported to be the pro- duction of a barrister. I have no authority or evidence to war- rant me to say it is so. I would to God I had the authority to say it is not so. But if it be the work of a barrister, I must take leave to say that I am sorry for it ; because I should be sorry that there should be a barrister such a disgrace to his profes- sion as the author of this mischievous and malignant libel. If he be a barrister, I trust he will learn, from the verdict of that jury and the judgment of the cornet, to appreciate the magnitude of the crime of which he has been guilty. Sheltered as he may be, under the anonymous character in which he has issued forth his poison to the public, from the sentence of the law, he will yet stand convicted in the mind of every honest man who loves the constitution and the peac^ 473 LIFE AND TIMES OF o'CONNELL. of the country as a great criminal and malefactor, and the re- mainder of his. life cannot be so well employed as in making the best atonement possible for this violation of the law and the wicked attempt which he has made to disturb the peace and happiness of the country." " My lords," said Denis Scully, rising in the court, " I have an observation to make on this subject. If the attorney- general will undertake to put the truth of the * Statement ' into a proper course of candid investigation, I can inform him who the author is — and I throw out this challenge to him." "I did presume and had anticipated," said the attorney- general, *'that such an attempt would be made — and I am now confii'med in my opinion. The gentleman knows right well, as he takes the matter upon himself, how and where to bring the acts of the government into question. ... I am here prosecuting a hbel, and would not stoop, even if the law would permit, in such a case to defend the government on the arraignment of the libellous author of * The Statement of the Penal Code.' " When Sam-in ceased to speak, Bernard Higgins was sworn and examined by the sohcitor-general. '* Where did you get that book?" asked Bushe. " I bought it at Fitzpatrick's in Capel- street," replied Higgins. *•' Does he keep a shop ?" " He does." "^Tiatkindofashop?" *'A printer and bookseller's shop." '• When did you buy that book '?" *' On the 19th of June last." " What is the title of it ?" *' ' A Statement of the Penal Laws which aggrieve the Ca- tholics of Ii-eland, with Commentaries,' in two parts, part ii." '* Who purports to be the printer ?" " Hugh Fitzpatrick." Having received these answers, Saurin sat down. O'Connell then rose. "TMio sent you to purchase this book?" asked O'Connell. " Mr. Kemmis," replied Higgins. "You are a clerk of his ?" said O'Connell. " I am," replied Higgins. '' You have read it ?" "I looked into a few pages after I bought it," said the wit- ness. LIFE AND TIMES OF o'COXNELL. 4:79 *♦ Do you ever go to the Castle ?" asked O'Conneli. *' Sometimes I do, with letters," replied Higgins. **Who is the chief secretary at present?" " I believe Mr. Gregory ; I'm not certain." ** Try again," said O'Conneli — *'can you mention any other?" *'I believe Mr. Peel is." *' About how long has he been secretary?" *'I cannot say — it is not very long.'' ** Was he secretary when you bought that book?" *' I don't know." "Do you know who are the king's ministers in Ireland — did you ever hear of them before ?" "No I did not." " It is part of the subject here — do you know what is meant by the king's ministers in Ireland?" "I do not. I suppose the lord lieutenant is." *' He is not the king's minister. Can you tell me who are the king's ministers here?" "I cannot." Somewhat similar evidence was given by a witness named Watson. The case for the crown having thus closed with Watson's testimony, Counsellor Bun-owes rose and said: " This old man, Hugh Fitzpatrick, the defendant in the present case, is now for the first time arraigned at the bar of his coun- try for publishing a scandalous and seditious libel ; and it will be for you to decide whether he is to be immolated upon the altar of the offended laws, or offered up as a victim to appease the feelings of, as we are told, a brave and amiable viceroy. If the defendant has not offended the law, there is, I hope, no fear of his suffering such immolation ; and although the prose- cution goes to impeach the work entitled, ' A Statement of the Penal Laws,' and written to expose the severities which they inflict ; and although upon such a subject, I address a jury exclusively Protestant, in a city where many Catholics of wealth and rank might easily be found — yet I know some of you, and I am convinced that if I satisfy yom- judgments that my client (abused and reviled as he is) is not guilty of the criminal intention' imputed to him, whatever your feel- ings must be upon the general subject, you will not justify future charges of partiality by proving that the advocate of Catholic rights cannot have any chance before a Protestant jury, selected by the emissaries and instruments of the Castle. You are about to act in one of the most interesting cases of 480 LIFE AND TIDIES OF O'CONNELL. alleged libel that ever has been discussed in this or any other country. You are called upon — on an information such as I shall state, supported by evidence that goes to a certain extent and no further — to pronoimce a verdict of guilty against the traverser. Gentlemen, let not my eloquent and long- attached friend, when he comes to reply, mislead your judgments. He will not misrepresent me as making an appeal to your feelings to induce you to ^aolate yom- consciences. No; I appeal to your sense of right — to your conscientious feelings. My appeal to you is to discuss this subject without prejudice or bias of any kind. Although I cannot call in aid of my defence the cu*- cumstance that the defendant is not himself the author of this work, yet whoever he may be, if I can discover in the pamphlet which has been given in evidence, any justification for the author, that tn-iII be a justification for the publisher — and I desire no more. You will not find the publisher guilty if you would not find the author guilty, because the former has exhibited an example of fidelity, which in itself is not to be repre- hended, when he comes forward and braves the consequences of a government prosecution. . . . Having made these general' and preliminary observations, I will turn your attention to the real source from which this work has originated. You are apprised that it purports to be ' A Statement of the Laws which aggrieve the Eoman Catholics,' and the object is, by ex- posing to public view the nature, magnitude, and extent of the restrictions upon the Catholic body, and by demonstrating their unconstitutional tendency, to induce a repeal of them. It was written and published in consequence of its being giddily and rashly asserted by very high authority, that the restraints under which Roman Catholics laboured were very slight, few, and trivial. That statement was followed by another which was published in a government paper, and which was fom' or five times reprinted, giving but a partial statement of the disabilities under which the Catholics laboured, and in- viting any man on the other side to show that they extended farther or deprived the subject of fair enjojnnent. Was it criminal in the author to obey the summons, and take up his pen to disabuse the public, and show that however high the authority was which asserted that the Catholic grievances were few, slight, and trivial, he was mistaken ? I conceive it was not only not criminal, but was laudable — it was a work which a proud man might bequeath to his posterity as the best legacy be could leave them ; but while it was a laudable undertaking, I can scarcely conceive any more hazardous ; because I defy LIFE AND TIMES OF O'CONNELL. 481 any man to publish liis sentiments upon that subject without hurting the feelings of some who think that the Roman Catho- lics are too much indulged, and our constitution endangered by the privileges which they already enjoy. It is not an easy task to argue down inveterate prejudices connected with imagined interests ; and he must encounter much hazard who is to be tried by the veiy men upon whose errors he animad- verts. . . . Is it false and maUcious to say that, generally speaking, the effect of those laws is to degrade and keep down the Catholics — to deprive them of their natural position in society, and destroy the effect of character, which is the most valuable property that any man can enjoy ? Perhaps the author has exposed these prejudices too strongly ; I do not adopt the sentiments of every part of the work. There may be a few, and but a very few, passages which I would have ad- vised the author not to have written, or to have softened down : this is an acknowledgment which I should be compelled to make of every book, ably and ardently written, that I have ever met. But no man whoso mind is not heated with pre- judice upon this subject, can examine the. book without feel- ing a sympathy with the author, and without ascribing to him a bona fide good wish to amalgamate all the people of the empire, and to render the constitution strong and impregna- ble, by uniting every sect in its defence. I never knew a cold- hearted man to do a noble act. This work is wiitten with the ardour and spirit of a man who felt what he described, and the intent and bearing of the entu'e w4>rk is to be taken into consideration. Read the text with care and impartiality, and you will find that the object of the writer was a condemnation of the penal code. Reading it with that view, you cannot con- sider it dangerous or criminal — it is not calculated so much to alarm, as to make an impression on the Protestant heart favourable to the CathoHc cause — relying upon and appealing to the benignity of their nature and their enlightened feelings. It is not imputed to any individual that he is influenced by an unjust, oppressive, or illiberal spirit : but the author com- plains that the anti- Catholic code of laws created and prolongs a hostile disposition — that they constitute an engine of power which is not to be trusted with safety to any body of men — that this power, being founded on jealousy and distrust, will probably be exercised with harshness in whatever hands it may be placed. Is not this a fair consideration of the subject ? Does it reflect upon the Protestant creed — the Protestant peo- ple ? Listen to the author himself: * This statement, extorted 21 482 LIFE AND TIMES OF o'CONNELL. from our sufferings, may possibly be termed an invective against our Protestant fellow- subjects. Far be such an inten- tion from our thoughts. We solemnly disclaim it. "We know the benignity of nature — the generous and enlightened feel- ings which belong to our estimable countrymen. We impute to tliem no innate hostility — no injustice — no oppression — no illiberal principles. But we complain of the anti-Catholic code of laws which necessarily produce a hostile disposition. We complain only of the injustice and oppression which these intolerant laws continually create and prolong — laws which in- vest the ruling class in Ireland with a monopoly of power not to be entrusted, with safety, to any body of men whatever — laws which taint the early thought, vitiate the education, per- vert the heart, mislead and darken the understanding. Such a code in our opinion must necessarily corrupt the practice of those, whether Catholics or Protestants, whom it would pro- fess to exalt, and must debase whom it would distinguish with excessive privileges and power.' " Mr. Burrowes went on to explain the case of Barry: "On Saturday, the 5th August, 1809," he said, "the assizes of Clonmel were to end, and on the Monday following the assizes of Kilkenny were to commence. Kilkenny is 25 miles distant. Barry, who was confined in Clonmel goal, received on Saturday a notice that he should be tried on Monday. His counsel came into court, and produced an affidavit swearing that there were five persons who resided in the county Waterford who would prove his innocence by establishing an alibi. The application to postpone the trial was refused. He was tried on Tuesday. His counsel stated that he would not go through the mockery of defending a man who had not an opportunity of producing his witnesses. His counsel then quitted the court. The noble judge tried him upon Tuesday — he was found guilty and executed. Why do I state this, and how am I to bring it to bear upon the case ? It will bear upon it most distinctly, by establishing that the judge whose conduct was so revolting was probably the object of the passage under inquiry, and that the shocking circumstances alluded to were those which I have stated. The attorney-general has made a statement which, as far as I can collect it, goes to show that the noble judge had made inquiries — private inquiries — by which he was satisfied as to the guilt of the man, the infamy of the witnesses alleged to be absent, and the falsehood of the affidavit. Be it so. I do really wish that it could satisfactorily appear that the noble judge had sufficient ground for refusing the application. But it is lAFE AND TIMES OF O'CONNELL. 483 not stated that lie refused to give credit to that affidavit by reason of anything that was openly said in court, but from something communicated by a person who was not sworn, and which was not made known to the counsel for the prisoner. I do not state — because I should not be allowed to prove — several affidavits briefed to me to establish the innocence of the man ; but I confidently assert that if he was not duly tried, he is still to be deemed innocent of robbery, according to the humane spirit of our law, notwithstanding his conviction ; and that he cannot be considered as duly tried if he had not suf- ficient notice of trial. Now, I say that this evidence would go forcibly to prove that the passage . in question alluded to the noble judge." After some further observations from Counsellor Burrowes, another lawyer, named Bun'owes Campbell, w^as called and examined by O'Connell : ** Do you recollect anything of a person of the name of Barry, who was tried in Kilkenny in the year 1820?" "I do." *' You grounded your appHcation to postpone the trial of the unfortunate Barry on the affidavit ?" ** My first application was made on the first day of the assizes — not on that affidavit, but on the grounds of which the judge had judicial cognizance — namely, the short time that the prisoner was in the county (Kilkenny), having been trans- mitted to take his trial from the last assize town, and the im- practicability of procuring his witnesses on such short notice. The learned judge said he would not grant the motion ; the trial must go on." " Was there any opposition made by the persons conduct- ing the prosecution to the postponement you required ?" " None whatever. Lord Norbury asked was there sufficient business to employ the court that day exclusive of Barry's case ; and on being informed that there was, he consented to postpone the case to the morrow only ! I then drew Barry's affidavit, and moved upon it." " Did any magistrate of the name of Elliott interfere ?" "Yes ; he was sitting in the bar-box when one of the bar mentioned to me that he (Mr. Elliott) knew three of the par- ties mentioned in the affidavit. I asked Mr. Elliott, in open court, if these parties resided at the distance stated, and he said they did. I therefore moved a postponement, to enable my client to procure their attendance ; but the judge thought proper to refuse the motion." 484 LIFE AND TIMES OF O'CONNELL. " What passed afterwards ?" " Some things which I do not wish to repeat, and there- fore request you will not ask me if not material to do so." " However unpleasant, su', it may be to you to answer or me to ask, my duty compels me to request an answer. "I told the judge that I would not go through the mockery of a trial when I knew the man had not his witnesses; and that if the trial were called on, his lordship should defend the man himself. I accordingly threw up my brief, and left the court." " Anything more ?" "Yes; I received an authoritative mandate to attend the trial, which however I contemptuously rejected." " From whom did you receive it?" "From the judge." " On what gi'ounds did the judge refuse the application by affidavit ?" " He said he had communication vnih. the magistrates, and that if a trial was to be postponed upon an affidavit so comjilete and professionally drawn as that I offered, the business could not be proceeded with, as prisoners would only have to employ counsel to draw an affidavit when they wished to put off their trials. I asked his lordship what he would have said if live affi- davit had been defective.'" "Did you, after the conviction of this unfortunate man, make any application on his behalf to the judge who tried him in order to obtain mercy ?" " After the conviction I wrote a respectful letter to Lord Norbui'y, enclosing the voluntary affidavits of those persons who were to have been Barry's witnesses, in which they swore that he was in tlieir company, at a distance of forty-five miles, when the robbery was committed ! To this I never received any answer except a verbal one, which I cannot take upon me to say had been sent by his lordship. I then applied to the attorney-general." " Did you mention the circumstance to any person ?" " I did. I talked publicly of it in the hall of the Four Courts, and told it to everybody I met." "In speaking of it, did you represent it as an ordinary oc- currence or otherwise ?" [Here the witness shook his head.] Judge Day observed that the shake of the head was a suffi- cient intimation of his sentiments. Mr. Campbell answered : "I looked upon it as otherwise; LIFE AND TIMES OF o'CONNELL. 485 and thought the judge's conduct m refusing to postpone the trial as contrary to law." Mr. O'Connell having concluded the direct examination, the witness was cross-examined by the solicitor-general ; but nothing new was elicited save as follows : *' Did you ever represent that pardon was refused to this convict because he was a Roman Catholic?" *' Never. Though I sincerely love the Roman Catholics and hope for their Emancipation, yet I don't know that they are so badly treated as that." Mr. O'Connell (proceeding to re-examine the witness) — *'Not so bad ! No ; they are not all hanged ! You have been asked whether you made the appHcation to the judge and to the attorney-general on the same grounds as those stated in the former affidavit. Were there any other grounds ?" *' I made it on the grounds of two affidavits — the one made by James Rodgers and three other persons named in the affi- davit sworn to postpone the trial, stating that on the day charged in the indictment, the convict, Patrick Barry, was in their company at Kilcannon, at the distance of forty or fifty miles from the place where the alleged robbery was committed, and that they never heard of his being accused of the robbery till after his trial. I sent the affidavits, with the memorial, to Mr. Saurin (attorney-general). I never imputed any censure to the Duke of Richmond, but to another and a difierent person. I mentioned the circumstance to every gentleman of the bar with whom I was acquainted." Mr. Justice Day — " In what manner did you speak of it ?" *' I always spoke of it as a most shocking event.'' Mr. O'Connell — "You had no doubt it was a shocking cir- cumstance?" *' It was a most shocking circumstance." ]\Ir. Justice Day — "You say there was nothing imputable to the government ?" " Certainly not — that I know." Mr. O'Connell — " Ai'e you of opinion that the conduct of the judge was a fit subject for parliamentary inquiry ?" "lam; and I did at the time think so, and repeatedly said so." " Did you not, by your letter to the attorney-general, ofi"er to attend him, and give every further explanation concerning this illegal tran^ction, and did the attorney-general ever send to or call upon you ?" "I did make such an ofi'er; and I never heard further from the attorney -general .'" 4bb LIFE AND TIMES OF O CONNELL. " Pray, Mr. Campbell, was not this melancholy transaction a matter of public notoriety, and in everybody's mouth long before the publication of the ' Statement of the Penal Laws ?' " *' Oh, very long ! I spoke of it pubHcly in November term, 1809. The * Statement ' was not published, as I believe, until May, 1812. [The witness then withdrew.] Mr. O'Connell remarked that the fact that Mr. Pole and Sir Charles Saxton were the secretary and under- secretary when the book was published, was admitted ; and that, in November, 1812, when the information was filed, two other persons filled those situations." The case having closed, he applied to be allowed to speak to evidence, as witnesses had been examined on both sides, and cited a case in point. Chief Justice — "The practice is otherwise; we therefore, cannot break this rule, unless there is matter of law to be ob- served upon." Mr. O'Connell — '^ My lord, there is matter of law in this case as well as matter of fact." Chief Justice — "I do not conceive the right exists here, but I should have no objection to hear you if counsel for the prosecution consent. Mr. O'Connell — " My lord, I shall not ask any indulgence from the counsel for the crown. If I have not a right to observe on the matter of law, which in this case is so inter- mixed and blended with matter of fact, I shall sit down." Mr. Justice Osborne — " I conceive that, with respect tc the matter of law, the attorney- general has something — indeed I think he has a good deal to answer. Mr. O'Connell — "Your lordship sees that the alleged libel is stated to be against the lord lieutenant, and his ministers acting under his authority ; and it appears by admission that those ministers (as they are ignorantly stj^led by the pleader) were not the persons acting under the authority of the viceroy at the time when this information was filed. It is predicated of Mr. Feel-.^ and Mr. Gregonj:'\ With this quiet slipping in by Mr. O'Connell of the argument which he was not permitted to make as a speech, his part in the case ended! It is well that the chcumstance of Mr. O'Connell's examination of witnesses has enabled us to pre- sent the foregoing details — showing what spedes of judges this unfortunate country was cursed with under our English rulers. * Th€ late Sir Robert Peel, then secretary for Ireland. t Then under-secretary, father of the present member for Galway. LIFE AJSD TIMES OF o'CONNELL. 487 Mr. Burro wes, Mr. O'Connell's senior in the case we have quoted from, had been heard after the closing of his client's case. The solicitor-general now replied, and the chief jus- tice having subsequently charged the juiy, they retired for a short time, and then returned with a verdict of "Guilty." Mr. Burrowes objected to the charge that had been given them. ** The learned judge," he said, '* ought not to have directed the finding of the averments." In pursuance of his objection, Mr. O'Connell, at the sit- ting of the court on the following day (Thursday, 11th Feb., 1813), rose to make an application to set aside tho verdict which had been obtained in this case, as originating in the misdirection of the learned judge who had charged the jury, and as being against both law and evidence. The attorney- general just came into court when Mr. O'Connell had pro- ceeded thus far, and called on Mr. Fitzpatrick to appear in person. Mr. Fitzpatrick immediately came into court, and the attorney- general moved that he should then stand com- mitted. Mr. O'Connell observed, that such a motion on the part of the right honourable attorney- general was just what had been expected. The com-t complied with the attorney- general's motion, and ordered that Mr. Fitzpatrick should stand committed. Mr. O'Connell then resumed. He said he made his motion upon the grounds alleged in the notice which had been served on the other side. The first of which was, the misdirection of the learned judge who had charged the jui'y ; and the second ground was, that it should not be permitted to stand, inasmuch as it was contrary to law and against evidence. He said that in case this motion should be refused, it was his intention to submit a further one in arrest of judgment, grounded on the pleadings alone ; but as the two motions were perfectly distinct, and as the second one would not become necessary unless the first was refused, he should confine himself solely to that which he had for its object — the setting aside the verdict." O'Connell went on to add that, " Besides the two grounds which he had mentioned, there were also two others — viz., that the defendant had been de- prived of the benefit of a second counsel being permitted to address the jmy although he had produced evidence, which he (O'Connell) contended was his right ; and that the informa- tion charged the defendant with having libelled the Duke of Richmond and his majesty's ministers in Ireland acting under his authority ; when, in fact, if any imputation of the kind could be attributed to the note which formed what was termed 488 LIFE AND TIMES OF o'CONNELL. the libel at all, it must have been intended to allude to those who had acted — not those who were now acting ; for every person knew that those nondescripts who were entitled his majesty's ministers, had been changed between the execution of Barry and the publication of the book — and again, between the publication and the filing of the ex-officio information by the attorney-general. "The information had been filed in Michaelmas term; it contained two counts, the second of which was wholly out of the question. The word farmer had been omitted — and in a prosecution of this nature, the defendant was fully warranted in taking advantage of anything in his favour ; when the point had been made at the trial, it was not contested. The second count was therefore wholly out of the case. This information stated that Hugh Fitzpatrick^ being a person of a bad, mali- cious, and wicked disposition, &c., and desiring to stir up and create a rebellion, &c., did, on the 19th of June last, publish a libel — a false, and scandalous libel — of and concerning his Grace the Duke of Richmond, &c., and of and concerning his majesty's ministers in Ireland, acting under the authority of the said lord lieutenant, &c.' It then recites the Hbel itself, A^hich is of the following tenor : * At the summer assizes of Kilkenny, in 1810, one Barry was convicted of a capital Dffence, for which he was afterwards executed. This man's case was truly tragical ; he was wholly innocent — was a re- spectable CathoHc farmer in the county of Waterford. His in- nocence was fully established in the interval between his conviction and execution; yet he was hanged, pubHcly pro- testing his innocence! There were some shocking cu'cum- stances attending this case, which the Duke of Richmond's administration may yet be invited to explain to parliament.' After the libel, close follows the inuenclo — ' meaning that the said Barry did not obtain pardon because he was a Catholic, although his innocence was fully proved to the knowledge of the said Duke of Richmond, &c.' Such was the information which had been filed by his majesty's attorney-general, upon which a jury returned a verdict of guilty, and in consequence of which Mr. Fitzpatrick then stood in actual custody. *'The first of the objections to allowing the verdict to stand, turned upon what was conceived to be the misdirection of the learned judge's charge, which had left it to the jury to decide upon the truth and applicability of the last inuendoy which was described as the meaning of the passage — that the said lord lieutenant had been advised by his ministers to refuse LIFE AND TBIES OF O'CONNIXL. 489 pardon to a person where innocence had been made apparent after his trial and condemnation, and that such pardon had been accordingly refused in the face of a conviction of inno- cence, and solely because he was a Catholic. This iniiendo contained much new matter which had not been spoken of be- fore. Of all this there had been no previous averment ; the information contained only an assertion of the intention being to vilify. There was not a word in the libel concerning advice received by the lord lieutenant, or of any action of his in consequence of it ; yet that such averment was necessary, there was the strongest authority to prove. In the case of the King against Home, where the opinion of the twelve judges of England was asked by the House of Lords, and was deli- vered by the Lord Chief Justice De Grey, his lordship states (reported. Cooper, page 683), that where a Hbel is of such a nature, either from its being ironical, or — from having an allu- sion to circumstances not generally known — that the words in which it is given cTo not of themselves convey all that is meant and understood — it is necessary that the things so understood and not expressed, should be laid before the jury ; but that a jury cannot take cognizance of them unless they be upon the record, where they cannot be unless by an averment. So that either the charge of the court upon the trial of Mr. Fitzpatrick must have been wrong, or the opinion of the twelve English judges, expressed by Lord De Grey, must be so. It could not be said that the inuendocs themselves wero in reaUty averment^; an authority (2nd Salkeld, page 315) was perfectly conclusive on this subject, an imieado being there defined negatively as not being an averment, but, on the con- trary, a production, id est, &c. ''It being thus ruled that a jury could not take cognizance of the matter contained in an inuendo without there having been a previous averment, it followed that no evidence m support of the inuendo in the present case should have been allowed to go to the jury — or if it had been so allowed, that the judge should have desu'ed them to discharge it enthely from their minds previous to giving a verdict. This, how- ever, had not been done ; on the contrary, the com't had de- sired the jm-y to consider the information precisely as if the averments had been regularly made ; it was universally allowed that averments were necessary to let in evidence of meaning, even where such evidence could be produced. But here, in point of fact, the crown did not go into any evidence to show the meaning or prove the inmndoes; and, with great respect, 490 LIFE AND TBIES OF O'CONNELL. he conceived that the jury should have been told there was no evidence in support of the inuendoes; and, directing them to find the truth and applicability of those inuendoes, there being no averments, was travelling out of the limits prescribed by the law, and recognized by Chief Justice De Grey and the twelve judges of England ; and therefore he conceived that the charge of the leai'ned judge had been erroneous, and contrary to law. " The next gi'ound to which he should call the attention of the court was, that there existed a material variation, as to a matter of fact, between the evidence given and admitted, and the information. The information stated, that the libel had been published of and coneeming the persons acting as his majesty's ministers in Ireland — that is, of the persons so acting at the time of the publication of the libel. Now, it was obvious that this was an anachronism of the grossest kind. The circumstance which gave occasion to the libel had taken place in 1809 ; the book had been published in 1812, and the ministers of these two periods were entu'ely different. How, then, could the libel be said to regard the ministry existing at the time of its publication ? It was impossible that it could not exist without entirely -satiating the infoi-mation. "He now came to the third ground for the motion, and upon that he should be still more brief than he had been on the other two ; it related to the trifling advantage which he might have derived from being allowed a counsel to speak to evidence. It was very confidently relied upon, that there could not exist any doubt as to the right of the defendant, evidence having been produced on both sides. The objection upon the trial came from a quarter to which no reply could be made — namely, the com-t ; had it been otherwise, it might have been easily and satisfactorily shown that the reason given for this decision did not apply. Formerly it had been the practice, if the defendant had evidence, to allow him the benefit of counsel to speak to that evidence. The judges of that court (the king's bench), however, had thought proper to alter this practice — they determined that no second counsel should be heard upon the part of the defendant, and they gave as a reason for coming to this decision, that the defendant's counsel, in opening his case, speaks to the plaintiff's evidence and observes upon his own. It was also a part of the rule, that unless the defendant goes into evidence, the plaintiff has no right to be heard by a second counsel ; yet the very court he was then addressing, and which had made the rule, had heard counsel for the crowia twice in the case of the King v. LIFE AND TIMES OF O'CONNELL. 491 Kirwan, although there had been no evidence produced by the defendant. It must naturally be supposed that the court had determined that in civil cases no second counsel should be heard, but that criminal ones did not come within the rule ; otherwise it would be, in fact, granting to the crown an ad- ditional and undue advantage. Lord Kenyon, in the case of the King v. Abbington (1st Espina, 136), condemns the prac- tice. " Considering that the crown had the benefit of the great and unrivalled talents of the solicitor-general, who was to reply — an advantage which nothing could have procured for the defendant, and which nothing within his power could balance ; as the learned gentleman who had opened his case could not be heard a second time — and that it would have fallen to his (Mr. O'Connell's) lot to have spoken to evidence, his client certainly had lost but a small advantage ; such as it was, however, he had a right to it ; but the court had thought proper to overrule that right, and in doing so had referred to the case of the King v. Kirwan. Coupling the decision in the case referred to with that on the late trial, it came to this — that the rule does apply to take away the advantage fi'om the traverser, and that it does not apply to take it away from the cro\vn. This was a position which he was sure their lordships would not think of establishing, and unless they did so, the right of his client to the benefit of a second counsel was unquestionable ; therefore, the denial of it by the court rendered the trial faulty in respect to the manner in which it had been conducted, and consequently the result of it nuga- tory. **He had now arrived at the foui-th objection, and one of much importance ; it was, that the jury had, upon the most material part of the information, found the verdict without evidence, and even contrary to evidence." Mr. O'Connell here read over the paragraph forming the libel, and contended that there had not been sufficient evidence to connect any part of it as a libel with the name of the Duke of Richmond. '* This had been attempted, indeed, by connecting the circum- stance mentioned in the libellous note, with passages in the text to which a construction had been given favourable to the inference wished to be drawn from the whole. It was first said that the passages thus read stated that government was in- fluenced in granting pardon to criminals, or in denying it, by their religious persuasions; and it was then concluded that the note was intended to give an instance of the partiality 492 LIFE AND TIMES OP o'CONNELL. alluded to in the text ; and had the text been examined more clearly, it would have appeared that the thing expressed was, that Protestant criminals had a greater facility in procuring attestations of previous good character — or of other circum- stances such as usually entitle to pardon — than Catholics, and consequently that the lord lieutenant, so far from having been accused, was justified in granting pardon more frequently to the one than the other. The note, then, being an instance of what was asserted in the text, could not reflect, by any means, upon the lord lieutenant. As to the concluding part of the note, which stated that the Duke of Richmond's administra- tion might yet be invited to explain certain circumstances to parliament, it only meant that the documents for regular in- vestigation being in possession of the ministry, could not be procured without in\-iting its aid. <*Had the trial been had before an unbiassed jury, it was very probable that the result would have been very difierent. It was veiy likely that they would not have been content with the mere assertion of the attorney-general, that the note which formed the subject of the libel was intended to vilify the lord lieutenant, and his majesty's ministers in Ireland acting under his authority ; they might possibly require an explanation of who those j^^^'sons called ministers actually icere, before they convicted a respectable and honest man of libelling them, merely because the attorney-general had thought fit to say they were libelled. It was matter of Irish history, that ichen these state j^roseciUions were carrying on against a Catholic of this country, not one man of his own religion teas suffered to remain upon the iianel. This had been stated by the respectable and learned gentleman who had opened Fitzpatrick's case, and was not attempted to be denied. It was observed, indeed, that one Catholic name had happened to be put upon the panel through mistake; this fault, however, was not inten- tional ; it had occurred by accident, and no doubt the apology which such a trespass required was made. He was not now stating anything improbable or unwarranted, for it was a well- known fact that the persons who had the appointjncnt of the jury had given a solemn and deliberate 2:)l€dge of their dislike and hatred of Catholics, and that it was to this avowed hostility to so numerous and loyal a class of his majesty's people that they owed their election. Thus, in a case where a Catholic is tried upon a charge of asserting that tho Catholic subjects of this country have not equal justice done them, special care is taken that not more than one Catholic shall be LIFE AND TIMES OF O'CONNELL. 493 put upon the panel, and that he shall not be of the jury, but that the accused shall be tried by twelve men of a ditferent perstiasion from himself; and some of them, perhaps, strongly imbued with prejudices unfavourable to himself and his religion. Had the question been one of property, such a disgraceful "cir- cumstance would not have taken place in the city of Dublin, where as many upright, wealthy, and respectable Catholics were to be found as could be selected from the ranks of their Protestant fellow-subjects." Mr. O'Connell now shortly recapitulated his arguments, and submitted to the court that he had made out a case suf- ficient to induce their lordships to set aside the verdict ; and if Mr. Attorney- General thought it prudent to file a fi-esh in- formation, that a new investigation should be entered into. The chief justice said that Mr. O'Connell had made much more of the argument than he thought could have been done. Yet the motion was refused. A suggestion having been made that it should remain over till next term, O'Connell said: "But, my lord, Mr. Fitzpatrick is in actual custody ; it would be very oppressive that he should remain in confinement the whole of vacation, when it is strongly relied upon there are sufficient grounds to arrest judgment." Mr. O'Connell then prayed the com't that Mr. Fitzpatrick's recognizance might be immediately taken, in order to avoid his remaining in custody all night. He was a respectable man ; there was no danger but he would be forthcoming. He presumed that his owt2 recognizance would be sufficient. The court after some consideration required security — him- self in £1,000, and two others in £500 each. Mr. O'Connell — "You were already offered to have that requisition complied with upon fair terms. The bail shall be immediately produced." It is no exaggeration to say that such a trial as the pre- ceding could only take place in a country which, like Ireland, is governed exclusively by " amiable and benevolent noble- men." In other coimtrics, such as France and Austria, where power is concentrated in the hands of an individual, whose life is responsible for the misfortunes of his people — under a des- potism — such a mockery of justice would be prevented by the despot's feai' of assassination ; but in a country which has the misfortune to bo governed by an aristocracy (where millions die of hunger — and no one is to blame), tyranny " works its wantonness in form of law" in a manner so exasperating, tor- turing, and cruel, that nature itself revolts against it in horror. 494 LIl'E AND TIMES OF O'CONNELL. This aiistocracy — the three or four hundred titled men who govern Ireland — should have been dashed at in O'Connell's invective ; and, scorning such vermin as the attorney-general, he should have struck at the proud masters of that minister. To be ameliorative of popular misery — to do good — agitation must be more republican than it has ever been in Ireland — than per- haps it could be in 1813. The Irish at that time — like a feeble and stumbling child clutching the robe of its nurse — felt themselves miserable unless when holding on to the tin- selled robe of titled dignity, and aiding, by the proud presence of aristocratic countenance, their tottering steps on the difficult road to freedom. Their want of manly self-reliance was their sorest impediment. When the CathoHc aristocracy glittered in theii' popular halls, the sun seemed to cheer their cause with brighter effulgence. "WTien that aristocracy withdrew, the wintry cloud of adverse fortune wrapt their blackening pros- pects with a funereal shadow. This was their weakness — and tlieir vigilant enemies thoroughly imderstood this unman - liness of the popular mind. They played upon this foible. A harsh chorus of dissonant objurgation bm-st from the distorted mouths of the hell-hounds of the government press when the Catholic lords flocked out of the people's halls — that is, when the populace adopted a line of honest politics. Would O'Con- nell consent to betray the interests of religion, the CathoHc ])eerage would have flocked around him, and ducked, and lawned, and beslavered him with sla\-ish adulation. When he rejected the Veto,':= disguised in Grattan's bill of 1813 — when he \-indicated the independence of his Church, the Catholic aristocracy abandoned him, and the Catholics were pelted with a driving tempest of venal vituperation. O'Connell was galled by such scurrilous invectives as the fol- lowing: *'This Catholic Board, or this 'august body,' as they nick-name themselves," said the Hibernian Joimial, '* are sanctioned by law to hold their meetings, for no other pur- puse under heaven than to prepare petitions to the legis- lature on behalf of the Irish Roman CathoHcs. While they confined themselves to this line, as chalked out for them by the legislature, the respectable Catholics attended. At their head were the Lords Fingal, Netterville, and Trimlesk)n, &c. But when once the body had forgot their allegiance to their prince by foully and scandalously libelling him — promulgating * The word veto signifies " I forbid." Had the Veto become law, k would enable the governraeut to forhid the elevation of patriotic priests to the dignity of bishops. LIFE xVJTD TIMES OF O'CONNELL. 495 the grossest falsehoods of him, their best friend — all of which were afterwards publicly contradicted by no less Catholic autho- rity than Lord Fingal himself, with Lord Kenmare and Sir Francis Gould, &c. — every nobleman and gentleman turned his back on the miserable party which emanated such lies, and since that time have left the Catholic Board an excres- cence on those laws out of which it grew." Thus the Catholics might make their choice. Did they renege their principles, they were cheered by the smiles and approval of theu* own peerage — if they were faithful to their religion, they were deserted by their aristocracy and distressed and harassed with galling invectives from the Protestant press. **I once asked a noble lord, son of a Union peer," says O'Neill Daunt, "whether any of his relations were Catholics." "Oh! none," he replied, "except the bastards !" The L*ish aristocracy are, with few exceptions, EngHsh in their origin and Protestant in creed ; and, as a consequence, then* existence is incompa- tible with the prosperity and freedom of Ireland. Whatever is bad, bigoted, or unnatm*al in the aristocracy, is duly adopted and exaggerated by their industrious imitators — the landed gentry and small squires — a circumstance which has a most mischievous etiect on the national prosperity, and poisons the springs of social happiness. The three or four hundred peers are the destruction of the country, as they were the deadliest enemies of Daniel O'Connell. By their base schemes, cruel stratagems, and nefarious agents, his life was embittered — his death was accelerated. They blighted our industry by their idleness, and om- morals by their gross depravity. Indebted as they were, like every aristocracy, to popular ignorance for theii- pernicious existence, they hated O'Connell, because the tendency of his orations was to educate the public mind. In his powerful orations, O'Connell often taught that govern- ments are established for the benefit of the multitude, which was entirely at variance with the principle of the aristocracy that " the many are created for the advantage of the few." In consequence, they could not fail to loathe O'Connell and they did, of course, thoroughly and heartily hate him. They were the bitterest enemies of him and of the people whom he served. But, to do them justice, the hatred of such men was an honour to its object. Lord Digby may serve as an example. He possessed, and we believe still possesses, a sweep of territory containing 30,000 acres, constituting a quarter of the King's county, and occupied by 4,532 persons. German princes, who enjoy a voice in the cabinets of Europe, do not always possess 496 LIFE AND TIMES OF O'CONNELL. SO wide a principality as Lord Digby. The tenantry on the broad acres of Lord Digby were buried in such appalling squalor — their hungiy and tattered indigence was so profound, that only one was rich enough to serve on a petty jury. — Thus the "side of a country," the population of a principality, were destitute of the right guaranteed by the constitution — trial by jury. In a territory comprising the quarter of a county, amongst 4,532 people, there was only one juryman to be found. Throughout this vast tract of land the British consti- tution was a mockery ! The inhabitants were as destitute of its privileges as the inhabitants of Barbary. This was a con- sequence of insecurity. Lord Digby would give no leases, a circumstance which not only plunged his tenantiy into poverty, but deprived them of the benefits which they should enjoy from the laws they were subjected to. The wealth of a province was often spread on the sumptuous board of this absentee noble- man, and his tenantry, as a consequence, were commonly in want of food to satiate the cravings of nature. In the bitter enmity of such powerful aristocrats, we find the source of the hostility — the pelting tempest of virulent invec- tive which, at every pace of his career, dashed full in the face of O'Connell. It is only by understanding his enemies that we can appreciate himself. His enemies were the titled aris- tocracy of Ireland and England — the most formidable confede- racy that ever crushed liberty or trampled on national rights. Could we measure their colossal power, we should be able to estimate the dark shadow which they flung upon him — we should understand what O'Connell had to encounter. Unable to do this, we shall content ourselves with observing that the world never saw so powerful a confederacy as the British peerage ; fi'om which it would seem to follow, that the tribune who confi'onted and discomfited them must be the most extra- ordinary man that ever lived. As to the Irish aristocracy, their evil destiny has placed them in such close proximity to England, that during the long lapse of 700 years they have been uniformly traitors to their native country — their hearts English, their interests aHen. Hence they have lived in England for the most part — a volun- tary exile which estranges them from Ireland, and physi- cally shuts them out from intercourse with Irishmen — from sympathy with Ireland. This is their misfortune and the source of that hostility which O'Connell always experienced from them. The use of an aristocracy is to rule — it was origi- nated for that purpose ; but an aristocracy so alien and incom- LIFE AND TIMES OF O'CONNELL. 497 petent as that of Ireland, is incapable of government. When O'Connell set them aside — when lur a time he tore their power from their grasp, and wielded it in the open daylight like a monarch, their vexation and rage were satanic. The miseries of Ireland have been often attributed to absenteeism ; but in assigning this as a cause, our politicians mistake tho conse- quences of the evil for the evil itself. The aristocracy of Ire- land is not bad because it is absentee — it is absentee because it is bad ; its affections have never been won by the magic beau- ties, nor its sympathies called forth by the unmerited sufferings of this magnificent country. The more elegant and corrupt society of England constantly invites it to abandon L'eland and take up its abode in its original country — and it always com- plies. In every other aristocracy the corrective is contained, which tempers its selfishness if it does not arrest its aberra- tions — the aristocracy may not love, but it must fear the people. Standing in need of then- services, it performs from calculation what it would not effect from sympathy. It limits oppression lest it awaken revolt. As it derives advantages from the national sti'ength, it does not seek to weaken and exhaust the population, and performs from clear-sighted sel- fishness acts which wear the smihng features of benevolent generosity. Unfortunately the Irish aristocracy neither fear danger nor hope for benefits from the Irish. Having the sol- diers of England to enforce, and the press of England to defend its oppression, it can indulge its cruellest instincts with- out a thrill of apprehension. Smiling contemptuously at the threats, clamours, and complaints of the people, it has but to beckon for the troops of England to sweep away popular hosti- lity, and drown the voice of discontent in the thunder of artil- lery ; and when patriotism is subdued and nationality drowned in its pure blood, the aristocracy continue to receive their rents as if nothing had inteiTupted the unbroken tenor of their guilty way. The power exercised by the Irish aristocracy is* perfectly unexampled in the history of the world. England, sharing her dominion with them, has spared them the expense attend- ant on authority, and furnished them with all the rights, privi- leges, and guarantees they could desiderate. She has enabled them to employ the instrumentality of freedom for the practice of oppression. Ireland has been in this way the bleeding victim of a twofold tyranny. The Irish aristocracy and the English government, mutually aiding one another, have com- bined to crush the Irish, and render them the most wretched i98 LIFE AND TDIES OF O CONNELL. and impoverislied — ^the most unfortunate and miserable of the -whole human race. As an illustration of the character of the Irish aristocracy we may cite the example of the Earl of Bandon. The town- ands respectively named Castleto^vu and Shanavagh, situated m the county Cork, were part of the estate of the Earl of Bandon — a man of high tory politics and warm evangelic zeal. Kinneigh, the parish in which Castletown is situated, is a