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-The Project Gutenberg eBook of Women of 'Ninety-Eight, by Helena
-Concannon
-
-This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and
-most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions
-whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms
-of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at
-www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you
-will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before
-using this eBook.
-
-Title: Women of 'Ninety-Eight
-
-Author: Helena Concannon
-
-Release Date: March 26, 2022 [eBook #67720]
-
-Language: English
-
-Produced by: MWS, Barry Abrahamsen, and the Online Distributed
- Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was
- produced from images generously made available by The
- Internet Archive/Canadian Libraries)
-
-*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WOMEN OF 'NINETY-EIGHT ***
-
-
-
-
-
- WOMEN OF ’NINETY-EIGHT
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
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-
-
-[Illustration:
-
- PAMELA
- The Wife of Lord Edward Fitzgerald
-]
-
-
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-
-
- WOMEN OF
- ’NINETY-EIGHT
-
- BY MRS. THOMAS CONCANNON, M.A.
-
-Author of “The Life of St. Columba,” “A Garden of Girls,” “The Sorrow of
-Lycadoon,” Etc.
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
- M. H. GILL AND SON :: LTD.
- 50 UPPER O’CONNELL STREET, DUBLIN
- 1919
-
-
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-
-
-
- PRINTED AND BOUND
-
-[Illustration]
-
-
- BY
-
- M. H. GILL & SON, LTD.
-
- DUBLIN
-
-
-
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-
-
-
-
- In Memory
-
-
- OF
-
-
- All the Dead Women
-
-
- AND
-
-
- In Homage
-
-
- TO
-
-
- All the Living Women
-
-
- WHO HAVE GIVEN
-
-
- Their Dear Ones
-
-
- TO
-
-
- Ireland
-
-
-
-
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-
-
-
-
- CONTENTS
-
-
- PAGE
- INTRODUCTION ix
- THE MOTHERS OF ’NINETY-EIGHT 3
- _The Mother of the Emmets_ 6
- _The Mother of Lord Edward Fitzgerald_ 28
- _The Mother of the Sheareses_ 53
- _The Mother of the Teelings_ 68
- THE WIVES OF ’NINETY-EIGHT:
- _The Wife of Theobald Wolfe Tone_ 103
- _The Wife of Thomas Addis Emmet_ 146
- _The Wife of Samuel Neilson_ 165
- _The Wife of Lord Edward Fitzgerald_ 186
- THE SISTER OF HENRY JOY MCCRACKEN 215
- SOME OTHER SISTERS OF ’NINETY-EIGHT:
- _Mary Anne Emmet_ 243
- _Mary Tone_ 247
- _Lady Lucy Fitzgerald_ 249
- _Julia Sheares_ 253
- _Miss Byrne_ 257
- _Miss Teeling_ 259
- _Miss Hazlett_ 259
- SARAH CURRAN AND ANNE DEVLIN 267
- SOME OTHER ROMANCES OF ’NINETY-EIGHT 297
- SOME OBSCURE HEROINES OF ’NINETY-EIGHT 311
-
-
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-
-
-
-
- INTRODUCTION
-
-
- Alas! how sad by Shannon’s flood,
- The blush of morning sun appears!
- To men who gave for us their blood,
- Ah! what can women give but tears!
- —DRENNAN: _Lament of the Women after the Battle_.
-
-“THEY tell a beautiful and poetical story about the croppies’ graves in
-Wexford. Many of them carried in their coat pockets wheat seed gathered
-in the fields to satisfy their hunger. When they were buried in their
-shallow graves the seed sprouted and pushed its way up to the light, and
-the peasants, seeing the patches of waving grain here and there by field
-or wayside, knew that there a poor croppy slumbered. Was not the waving
-grain an emblem that the blood they shed for Ireland would yet nurture
-the harvest of Freedom?”
-
-Twenty years ago, when in the pages of the _Shan Van Vocht_, that moving
-and lovely tale was told to the faithful few whom the centenary of
-’Ninety-Eight had rallied around the croppies’ graves, it needed a
-poet’s vision, a patriot’s heart, to see in
-
- “The grain that was fed on the dust of the dead”
-
-a promise of the mighty harvest of freedom. To-day, we look around us,
-and, lo!—even to the blindest and coldest of us—the fields are white.
-
-Ere we go forth to the reaping, shall we not consider with ourselves
-what culture the buried seeds of freedom received to ensure a yield so
-rich? It is not alone the blood of the men who died for Ireland that has
-nurtured the harvest of her freedom. The seed has been abundantly
-watered by the tears of heartbroken women: mothers and wives,
-sweethearts and sisters, daughters and comrades. Some of these grieving
-women I have tried, in the following pages, to make better known to
-their country-women of to-day, whose joy has been purchased, in such
-large part, by their sorrow.
-
-And not with their tears alone did our sisters of ’Ninety-Eight sprinkle
-the red furrows of that tragic seed-time. In many a forgotten grave,
-from Antrim to Wexford, lies the dust of the women who died victims of
-the brutality of the yeomanry and military, let loose on the country to
-goad its manhood into a rising. Beneath the unmarked site of many a
-vanished cabin lie the charred bones of countless women who were burnt
-to death when the drunken soldiery fired their homes. Among the outrages
-tabulated by Cloney as having been perpetrated by the military in the
-county of Wexford alone, we find record of seven young women violated
-and murdered near Ballaghkeene by the Homperg Dragoons, after the
-retreat from Vinegar Hill; of four women shot after the flight from
-Wexford; and of three women bayonetted in Enniscorthy; of nine women and
-six children slain by the yeomanry between Vinegar Hill and Gorey, on
-the high road; of three women shot by the yeomanry in the village of
-Aughrim; of four women murdered by “the supplementary yeomen” between
-Gorey and Arklow.
-
-Anne Devlin was not the only woman of those times who bore to the day of
-her death on her tender skin the cicatrized marks of the wounds
-inflicted by the bayonets of the soldiers in the design of extorting
-from her information. Some of the atrocities suffered by women had not
-even the excuse of any purpose—save that of satisfying a monstrous lust
-of cruelty. A dreadful case is that of Mrs. O’Neill, whose son, a
-clerical student, had been taken up and confined in New Geneva barracks,
-preparatory to being shipped off to work in the salt-mines of the King
-of Prussia. The poor woman had come all the way from Antrim, a distance
-of one hundred and fifty miles, to take a last farewell of him. When she
-reached her destination she was refused access to him, and only
-succeeded in seeing him after she had bribed his guards. Unfortunately,
-she yielded to the violence of her grief when the time to leave him
-came, and the anguished cries of the poor mother betrayed her forbidden
-presence in her boy’s cell. She was torn from his arms, hurried into the
-presence of the colonel, and by him delivered to the tender mercies of
-the soldiers, who dragged her into the courtyard, and proceeded to toss
-her in a blanket. When the savage pastime of the soldiers ceased, a few
-rags were thrown to the unfortunate woman; she crawled to a neighbouring
-cabin, and there she died.
-
-Those who are best entitled to speak of the causes of the Rising of
-’Ninety-Eight are singularly unanimous in their exposition of them.
-During Thomas Addis Emmet’s examination before the Secret Committee of
-the House of Lords (August 10th, 1798) he stated in reply to Lord
-Clare’s query as to what caused the late insurrection: “the free
-quarters, the house-burnings, the tortures, the military executions in
-the counties of Kildare, Carlow and Wicklow.” Mary McCracken used to
-quote her brother, Henry Joy’s opinion that “if it had not been for the
-free quarters and the flogging, there would have been no rebellion after
-all, for it is not easy to get the people to turn out of their
-comfortable homes, if they _have_ any comfort in them.” It was the sight
-of his burning chapel and the blazing homesteads of his flock which
-turned Father John Murphy from a man of peace into the intrepid leader
-of fighting men. When his people fled to him in the woods from the
-flames of their farmhouses and the outrages of the yeomanry, he told
-them that “they had better die courageously in the field than be
-butchered in their houses; that, for his own part, if he had any brave
-men to join him, he was resolved to sell his life dearly and prove to
-these cruel monsters that they should not continue their murders and
-devastations with impunity.”
-
-The same motives which urged the priest to become the soldier animated
-many of the women. Better, it seemed to them, to die fighting side by
-side with their men in the field than to be violated and butchered in
-their houses. And so we find among the Women of ’Ninety-Eight more than
-one Irish Joan of Arc. There was Molly Weston who fought at Tara, Betsy
-Grey at Ballynahinch, Mary Doyle at New Ross and many a brave woman who
-died fighting on Vinegar Hill.
-
-Another _rôle_ filled by the Women of ’Ninety-Eight was that of
-inspiring their men to patriotic action, aiding them by their counsels,
-putting their women’s wit at the service of the patriots as messengers
-and intelligence officers. Charles H. Teeling informs us that “the
-enthusiasm of the females exceeded the ardour of the men; in many of the
-higher circles, and in all the rustic festivities, _that_ youth met a
-cold and forbidding reception from the partner of his choice, who,
-either from apathy or timidity, had not yet subscribed to the test of
-union.” “A green velvet stock, or a silk robe with a shamrock device,
-were the emblems of national feeling; and the former was not
-unfrequently presented to the youthful patriot by the fair daughter of
-Erin, as the pledge of a more tender regard.” We see Pamela and Lady
-Lucy Fitzgerald shedding the bright influence of their beauty over the
-circle of patriotic and romantic young Irishmen whom Lord Edward
-gathered around him in Kildare Lodge. Numerous women were so deep in the
-secrets of the United Irishmen that it was considered necessary for them
-to take the oath. Of these, the most notable, Miss Moore, will receive
-more extended notice in subsequent pages of this book. Among others we
-find mention of Mrs. Risk, whose husband having fallen a victim to his
-patriotic principles in ’Ninety-Eight, devoted herself and all she had
-in the world to the Cause for which he died. It was to her house in
-Sandymount that Lord Edward was to have been removed the night of the
-day on which he was arrested. We subsequently find her visiting the
-prisoners at Fort George and carrying back messages from them to their
-friends in Ireland. Rose McGladdery, wife of William McCracken, was “a
-sworn United man,” and did good service to the cause for which her
-husband was imprisoned and for which her brother-in-law, Harry, died, as
-she passed out and in of Kilmainham jail to visit her captive husband.
-It is very probable that Mrs. Oliver Bond was also “a sworn United man.”
-Her name lives in their records for a clever device by which she enabled
-the State prisoners of 1796 to keep in touch with the outside world. The
-story is told by Charles Teeling, who was one of them:
-
-“On that great festival, which is respected in every quarter of the
-Christian world, this excellent lady, having addressed a polite message
-to the first authority of the prison, requested through him to furnish a
-dish for the table of the prisoners of State.... This dish was
-accompanied by one of smaller dimensions, but of similar appearance,
-which was presented to the good lady, the governor’s spouse. Never did
-the governor or his gentle rib partake of a dish more agreeable to their
-palates. It was a pasty of exquisite flavour, and seasoned by no
-parsimonious hand. Dainties of this kind were novel to the captives, but
-still more novel the design; choice, indeed, were the materials of which
-our dish was composed, and most acceptable to those for whose
-entertainment it was prepared. With the full permission of the governor,
-the pie was placed on our table, the turnkey received his Christmas-box,
-smiled as he turned the money in his hand, and retired. Under cover of
-the encrustment, which was artfully, but with apparent simplicity,
-arranged, the dish was filled with writing materials, foreign and
-domestic newspapers, communications with friends.” Writing his
-recollections thirty years later, Charles Teeling recalls, in all their
-vivid freshness, the sensations to which this discovery gave birth, and
-the happiness which the poor prisoners felt when they were thus made
-acquainted with the true sentiments of their fellow-countrymen in their
-regard.
-
-One more pious duty the Women of ’Ninety-Eight took upon themselves, and
-that was to guard the memory of the fallen, and to keep bright their
-names. Again and again, Dr. Madden has found occasion to pay tribute to
-the faithful women to whom his researches owe so much. “With few
-exceptions,” he writes, “the materials collected for the memoirs of the
-United Irishmen would in all probability have perished, had they not
-fallen into the hands of women, who clung to the memories of their
-departed friends with feelings of attachment commensurate with the
-calamities which had overtaken the objects of their affection or regard.
-It would seem that in man’s adversity, when his fellow-men fall away
-from his sinking fortunes, or detach their thoughts from his maltreated
-memory, there is a steadfastness in the nature of woman’s love, a
-fidelity in her friendship, which gives to the misfortunes of her
-kindred a new claim to her solicitude for everything that concerns their
-interests or their fame.” Very touching instances are those of Mary
-McCracken, the daughters of Samuel Neilson, the daughter of Dr.
-MacNevin.
-
- * * * * *
-
-Finally, it is not to be forgotten that to a woman of ’Ninety-Eight we
-are indebted for the first and, when all is said, perhaps, the best—the
-most authentic, and vivid and enlightening—story of the Rising which
-takes its name from that year. Charles Hamilton Teeling’s “Personal
-Narrative,” published in 1828, three years before Moore’s “Life of Lord
-Edward Fitzgerald,” was dedicated by the author in words, as touching as
-they are noble, to “My wife and my children at whose request solely, it
-has been undertaken.... Respected and beloved, they are entitled to this
-mark of my remembrance, the only inheritance which the enemies of my
-country have left me to bequeathe.” We are allowed to catch, in the
-final page of the “Narrative,” a fleeting whisper of the romance of
-Charles H. Teeling and Catherine Carolan. We know that when the
-Insurrection was suppressed, young Charles Teeling, for true love’s
-sake, preferred to take anew the outlaw’s track on the mountain rather
-than to seek safety beyond the seas. We would fain know a little more of
-the girl who won her place side by side with “the Little Black Rose” in
-that most knightly and constant heart. We sense in her story one of the
-most tender, and sweet, and pure of the romances of ’Ninety-Eight.
-
- * * * * *
-
-I cannot but feel proud of the fact that, in writing this book, I have
-received the constant help of two of the grandsons of Charles Teeling,
-and Catherine Carolan: Charles T. Waters, Esq., B.L., and Charles H.
-Teeling, Esq., K.C. I wish I could acknowledge adequately, the
-obligations under which I have been put by their kindness in lending me
-the precious Teeling letters in their possession, and allowing me to use
-them as I desired. I have been privileged also to consult Mr. Waters
-constantly in many doubts and difficulties, to draw on his knowledge of
-the period, to use his library, and to call on his help in a thousand
-ways which it would be impossible to enumerate.
-
-I am also under an obligation to F. J. Bigger, Esq., Belfast, and Denis
-Carolan Rushe, Monaghan (another kinsman of Catherine Carolan) for their
-patient answering of my many questions concerning a period on which they
-are among the greatest of living authorities.
-
-To Mrs. Patrick Semple, LL.D., and her sister, Mrs. MacCarthy, I owe
-most warm thanks for their help in making extracts from books otherwise
-inaccessible to me, and to Professor Mrs. Macken for the trouble she
-took to procure certain books for me. I am also indebted to George
-Taaffe, Esq., of Smarmore Castle, Ardee, for information furnished me
-from the Taaffe family papers.
-
- HELENA CONCANNON.
-
-Lios na Mara,
-
- Salthill, Galway,
-
- _September, 1918_.
-
-
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-
-
-
-
- THE MOTHERS OF ’NINETY-EIGHT
-
-
-
-
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-
-
-
-
- THE
- MOTHERS OF ’NINETY-EIGHT
-
- “Hush, O Mother, and be not sorrowful,
- The women of My keening are yet unborn, little Mother.”
- —_The Keening of Mary._
-
-
-TRULY it was of the Mothers of Ireland that Mary’s Son was thinking,
-when from the Tree of His Passion He comforted His own Mother with
-prophecy of the “keeners” yet unborn who, through the centuries, were to
-bear her company in her anguish, and weep with her for her sorrow and
-His most bitter death.
-
-That knowledge—with so much else—we owe to the teaching of Padraic Mac
-Piarais. He gave us the first part of the lesson when he gathered us
-with him into the cottage of Mary Clancy, in Iar Chonnacht,[1] and bade
-us listen to her “keening” with Mary for her dying, crucified Son, and
-shuddering at the instruments of His Passion, and shedding floods of
-tears at the thought of His gaping wounds. He made us realise what “a
-precious thing it is for the world that in the homes of Ireland there
-are still men and women who can shed tears for the sorrows of Mary and
-her Son.” But did the teacher, himself, know then at what a price had
-been won for the mothers of the Gael their “terrible and splendid
-trust”? Or was it only revealed to him in the blinding flash of the
-illumination which showed him that his own mother’s soul must be pierced
-by the same sword which transfixed Mary’s? Certain it is that we had to
-wait for the completion of the lesson, begun in Mary Clancy’s cottage,
-till that most holy and solemn night when, as he waited, like King
-Cellach in his prison cell, for “his love, the morning fair”—and the
-flame-like gift it was to bring him—he wrote for his mother the
-exquisite prayer, with which he would have her, on the morrow, lay his
-own broken body in Mary’s outstretched arms. Then was it made plain to
-us that the mothers of Ireland have won the right to stand thus close to
-Mary, beneath the Cross, and to claim as their hereditary office, the
-task to minister to her in her desolation, because they, above all the
-other women of the world, have so often “seen their first-born sons go
-forth,” even like Mary’s, “to die amid the scorn of men—For whom they
-died.”
-
-Footnote 1:
-
- “Caoineadh Mhuire” (The Keening of Mary) was taken down by P. H.
- Pearse from the singing of Mary Clancy in Moycullen, and first
- published by him in the _Claidheamh Soluis_, October 24th, 1904.
-
-Thus the Desolate Mother, even in a world which has so largely forgotten
-the sorrows of her and of her Son, has always found, and will find, in
-the homes of Ireland, her faithful company of keeners. And who shall say
-that their ministering is less grateful to her, because while they weep
-for her Son, they are weeping for their own, and the voice they raise in
-woe is that of Rachel, who will not be comforted?
-
-These poor mothers of our Irish martyrs! These poor Rachels! There is
-something in their grief which makes it a thing apart. Wives, and
-sisters, and sweethearts, who have given their dear ones to Ireland have
-felt, even in their most anguished hour, something of that exaltation
-which makes “the hard service _they_ take, who help the Poor Old Woman,”
-a yoke more sweet and precious than any liberty. Like the men, of whose
-sufferings it was their splendid privilege to partake, the women who
-have shared their husband’s prison cell, like Jane Emmet, or who have
-walked with their brothers, even to the foot of the scaffold, like Mary
-Anne McCracken, or who have found death by their lover’s side on the
-battlefield, like Betsy Gray, “think themselves well paid.” But not even
-Ireland could pay the mother of the Emmets, or the mother of the
-Shearses, or heal the hidden wound that bled until her death-night in
-the heart of Bartholomew Teeling’s mother, or comfort Lord Edward’s poor
-mother when the roses of each recurring June were redly tragic with the
-memory of his blood-stained prison deathbed, and its sunshine was
-darkened by the memory of her boy’s agony. For the greatness of their
-sorrow, then, shall we not place them first, these broken-hearted
-mothers, in our tale of the “Women of ’Ninety-Eight”?
-
-
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-
-
-
-
- The Mother of the Emmets
-
- ELIZABETH MASON EMMET—(1740-1803)[2]
-
- “My life was he,
- My death his taking.”
- —_Lament of Mothers of Bethlehem._
-
-Footnote 2:
-
- Authorities: Madden’s “United Irishmen,” Third Series, Second Ed.
- (London and Dublin, 1860); Dr. Thos. Addis Emmet’s “The Emmet Family”
- (New York, 1898); J. J. Reynolds’s “Footprints of Emmet” (Dublin,
- 1903); Smith’s “County and City of Cork,” edited by Day and Copinger
- (Cork, 1893).
-
-
-“ON Tuesday, September 20th (1803), the day of the execution of Robert
-Emmet, he was visited at ten o’clock in the morning, by Mr. Leonard
-McNally, the barrister, who, on entering the room where Emmet had the
-indulgence of remaining all that morning in the company of the Rev. Dr.
-Gamble, the ordinary of Newgate, found him reading the litany of the
-service of the Church of England. Permission was given to him to retire
-with McNally into an adjoining room, and on entering it, his first
-enquiry was after his mother, whose health had been in a declining
-state, and had wholly broken down under the recent afflictions which had
-fallen on her. McNally, hesitating to answer the enquiry, Robert Emmet
-repeated the question, ‘How is my mother?’ McNally, without replying
-directly, said, ‘I know, Robert, you would like to see your mother.’ The
-answer was, ‘Oh! what would I not give to see her?’ McNally, pointing
-upwards, said, ‘Then, Robert, you will see her this day!’ and then gave
-him an account of his mother’s death, which had taken place some days
-previously. Emmet made no reply; he stood motionless and silent for some
-moments, and said, ‘It is better so.’ He was evidently struggling hard
-with his feelings, and endeavouring to suppress them. He made no further
-allusion to the subject but by expressing ‘a confident hope that he and
-his mother would meet in heaven.’”[3]
-
-Footnote 3:
-
- Madden, _op. cit._ p. 461. Madden’s account of this touching incident
- was furnished him by John Patten, brother of Mrs. Thos. Addis Emmet,
- and the devoted friend of the whole Emmet family, who was a prisoner
- in Kilmainham at the time of Robert Emmet’s trial and execution.
-
-I have known one woman who, having been able to read, with dry eyes, the
-melting tale of Sarah Curran’s “Broken Heart,” and to listen, without a
-sob, to the voice of Sarah’s young lover, so soon to be stilled for
-ever, pleading from the brink of “the cold and silent grave,” for the
-last charity of the world’s silence, broke into a passion of weeping as
-the tragedy, which was Robert Emmet’s life-story, swept through every
-stage of gathering pathos to the almost intolerable poignancy of its
-climax—the picture, conjured up by Madden, of the mother who lay dead,
-of a broken heart, in her widowed home in Donnybrook, while her
-last-born son, her Benjamin, stood in the dock in Green Street on trial
-for his life.
-
-And yet is there not comfort to be found in the thought that the
-mother’s loving spirit was liberated in time from the prison of the
-suffering flesh, to be made free of all the places out of which her
-boy’s anguish called to her? If, as was Robert Emmet’s fond hope, “the
-dear shade of his venerated father” looked down upon him, where he stood
-in the dock, ready to die for the principles which that father had first
-taught him, surely the soul of the mother was not far away. Surely it
-bore him company during the long nerve-wrecking, exhausting hours of the
-trial,[4] giving him the refreshment which the brutality of his captors
-and judges denied; surely it was close at hand when his poor body, on
-which the fetters of death were so soon to be laid, had to submit for
-the last time to the more galling fetters of the abominable gaoler of
-Newgate. Could we bear to think of what Robert Emmet was made to suffer
-during his last night on earth, if the conviction that his mother’s
-spirit hovered near him, did not bring us comfort? Brought to Newgate
-from Green Street about eleven o’clock at night, he was heavily ironed
-by Gregg, the gaoler, and placed in one of the condemned cells. About an
-hour after midnight an order came from the Secretary at the Castle that
-the prisoner must be at once conveyed to Kilmainham. What a journey was
-that through the darkness of the autumn night! What a journey back from
-Kilmainham to Thomas Street the next day, when through the seething
-crowds, the carriage which bore the young martyr to the place of his
-execution moved in the midst of its strong guard of horse and foot! Even
-his enemies, looking upon him, were fain to confess that never had they
-seen a man go forth “to die like this”—with such “unostentatious
-fortitude,” such marvellous absence of all signs of fear, such a
-conviction of the glory of dying “for Ireland.” Did the dear Lord make
-it easy for him “to die like this,” by permitting his mother to leave
-her place in heaven for a time to be with her boy in the supreme hours?
-
-Footnote 4:
-
- The trial of Robert Emmet lasted from 9.30 _a.m._ until 10.30 _p.m._
- During “these thirteen hours of mortal anxiety, of exertion, of
- attention, constantly engaged, he had no interval of repose, no
- refreshment.”
-
- * * * * *
-
-Set side by side two pictures. One is that drawn, in such tragic
-intensity of black and white, by Madden, of a woman of sixty-three, who
-having drained to the dregs the cup of life’s sorrows, lay down in the
-home of her widowhood, from which all her children save one were absent,
-to die of the malady, for which science has found no cure: a broken
-heart. Nine months earlier her husband had been taken from her and now
-she, “like the mother of the Shearses, was hurried to her grave by the
-calamity which had fallen on her youngest son; who, it was vainly hoped,
-was to have occupied one of the vacant places in the house, and in the
-heart of his afflicted parents. Vainly had they looked up to Thomas
-Addis Emmet to supply that place which had been left a void by the death
-of their eldest and most gifted son, Christopher Temple Emmet. And when
-Thomas Addis was taken away from them and banished, to whom had they to
-look but to the younger son; and of that last life-hope of theirs they
-might have spoken with the feelings which animated the Lacedemonian
-mother, when one of her sons had fallen fighting for his country, and
-looking on the last of them then living she said ‘_Ejus locum expleat
-frater_.’ And that son was taken from them, incarcerated for four years,
-and doomed to civil death. Thomas Addis Emmet was then a proscribed man
-in exile. The father had sunk under the trial, although he was a man of
-courage and equanimity of mind; but the mother’s last hope in her
-youngest son sustained in some degree her broken strength and spirit;
-and that one hope was dashed down never to rise again, when her
-favourite child, the prop of her old age, was taken from her, and the
-terrible idea of his frightful fate became her one fixed thought—from
-the instant the dreadful tidings of his apprehension reached her till
-the approaching term of the crowning catastrophe, when, in mercy to her,
-she was taken away from her great misery.”
-
-“Orangemen of Ireland ... these are your triumphs; the desolation of the
-home of an aged, virtuous couple—the ruin in which all belonging to them
-were involved, the ignominious death of their youngest and gifted
-child.”[5]
-
-Footnote 5:
-
- Madden, _op. cit._ pp. 463-464.
-
-The other picture is one we paint for ourselves of a fair young girl,
-very slim and graceful in her riding habit, with a charming face,
-usually a little too serious for its twenty summers, showing now a
-dainty flush of excitement under the piquant riding hood, and clear
-eyes, usually somewhat too grave for their youth, shining now with an
-unwonted light. For background a stately eighteenth-century country
-seat, set in a landscape of exquisite beauty—(What need to describe the
-entrancing loveliness of woodland, lake and mountain, when it is
-sufficiently summed up by the magic word, Killarney?) Over it all a sky
-aflush with the colours of the summer dawn! The haze of summer over the
-bird-filled, fragrant woods, that sway lightly to the breezes of the
-virginal new day!
-
-So we picture for ourselves Elizabeth Mason on that summer morning of
-the year 1760 when she set forth, a charming and accomplished girl of
-twenty, from the home of her father, James Mason, Esq., of Ballydowney,
-Killarney, for the memorable visit to Cork, which was to prove an event
-of such transcendent importance in her life.
-
-We guess something of the hopes and dreams, which lay in James and
-Catherine Mason’s mind when they yielded to the desires of their son,
-James (who was a successful business man in Cork), and allowed their
-only daughter, Elizabeth, to accompany him, on his return to Cork from
-one of his visits home, for “a season” in the gay, little Southern
-Capital. Among the country gentlemen of the neighbourhood there was
-small likelihood of finding a suitable _parti_ for their beautiful girl.
-Arthur O’Neill’s description of Lord Kenmare’s “Milesian Assembly,”
-which took place in this identical year,[6] seems to point to a society
-around Killarney of hard-riding, hard-drinking, jolly squires with few
-of whom Elizabeth’s cultured and thoughtful mind would have enough in
-common for the prospects of a very happy marriage. Amid the young
-professional and business men in Cork, with their more intellectual
-interests, the wider knowledge of life which their close and frequent
-intercourse with the Continent fostered, their greater accessibility to
-new ideas, she was, as her prudent, loving parents probably realised,
-much more likely to find a husband calculated to make her happy.
-Extraordinarily gifted by nature, her education had been such as to
-foster her birthgifts. Her great-grandson, Dr. Thomas Addis Emmet, of
-New York, who in his book, “The Emmet Family,” has done us the great
-service of making us acquainted with the _choses intimes_ of his
-illustrious stock, has published many of her letters, and they bear out
-Dr. Madden’s verdict on her “as an amiable, exemplary, high-minded lady,
-whose understanding was as vigorous as her maternal feelings were strong
-and ardent.” In another place Madden speaks of her “noble disposition
-and vigorous understanding,” and in conversation with Dr. Thos. Addis
-Emmet in 1880 he stated that he considered that she, her husband, her
-three sons, Christopher Temple, Thomas Addis, Robert, and her daughter,
-Mary Anne (wife of Robert Holmes) “were the most talented family in
-every respect he had ever known of.” It was felt, indeed, and not alone
-by those who hold that “all distinguished men inherit their
-characteristics rather from the mother than from the father,” that the
-extraordinary brilliancy of the three sons of Dr. and Mrs. Emmet was
-largely an inheritance from their mother. And it is impossible to read
-her letters, with their exquisite precision and felicity of phrase,
-their ease, and candour and absence of all straining after effect, their
-expression of a philosophy of life, the noblest, and soundest (because
-founded on the truest Christian principles) without feeling that they
-have been penned by a woman rarely gifted in heart and mind.
-
-Footnote 6:
-
- Mrs. Milligan Fox’s “Annals of the Irish Harpers,” p. 147. It was on
- this occasion that Arthur O’Neill, in reply to an apologetic remark of
- Lord Kenmare’s concerning the place that the blind harper had found
- near the foot of the table, made the famous assertion: “Where an
- O’Neill sits, _there_ is the head of the table.”
-
-With these rare gifts of heart and mind, and in all the freshness, and
-charm, and beauty of her twenty summers, Miss Elizabeth Mason made
-something of a sensation when she appeared in Cork society. She had
-numerous relatives in the pleasant little city by the Lee, and each and
-every one of them was determined that their beautiful visitor should
-have “a good time.” So once or twice a week some kindly matron would
-call at James Mason’s house, and carry off his sister to the concerts
-and “assemblies” which were regular bi-weekly events in the Assembly
-House near Hamond’s Marsh. Or a party of young people would beg her to
-join them for a boating excursion on the river, or “a promenade” on the
-Mall where the _beau monde_ loved to display its gay silk and satins,
-its feathers and furbelows; or on the Bowling Green, where it took the
-air under the quaintly cut trees, and listened to the band discoursing
-sweet music for its delectation; or in Mr. Edward Webber’s gardens near
-the Mardyke where it ate strawberries and cream, and all the other
-delectable fruits of the earth, each in its proper season. In the
-evenings there were theatre-parties, or “drums” at the Assembly House,
-or in the hospitable and elegant homes of some of Cork’s merchant
-princes, whose culture was not surpassed by their wealth. Here while the
-young folk danced their minuets and country-dances, their elders played
-cards; but both young and old were ready to leave dancing floor, and
-card table, to take part in the delightful concerts of “Italic airs,”
-which made one visitor to Cork imagine “the god of music had taken a
-large stride from the Continent, over England to this island,” and
-attribute “the humane and gentle disposition of the inhabitants, in some
-measure, to the refinement of this divine art.” At supper one heard
-supremely good conversation, for the men of Cork were, according to the
-same witness, “well versed in public affairs,” fond of news and
-politics, and diligent readers of the newest French and English books,
-and the periodicals of the day—and their pretty partners made a
-charmingly appreciative audience while the men talked over the foreign
-and domestic news they had found in the Dublin and London newspapers,
-which the two coffee-houses near the Exchange supplied for their
-customers.[7]
-
-Footnote 7:
-
- Smith’s “County and City of Cork,” I., 388.
-
-It began to be noticed by the observant matrons, who chaperoned these
-delightful gatherings, that one brilliant talker seemed particularly
-anxious to observe the effect his conversation made on clever Elizabeth
-Mason, and how persistently he sought her out as a partner in ball and
-supper rooms, or at pic-nic or promenade, whenever his professional
-occupations allowed him to take part in these functions. They noticed,
-with approval, that Elizabeth was not indifferent to the attentions of
-the rising young physician, Dr. Robert Emmet,[8] who having studied
-medicine and taken his degree with great _éclat_ at one of the most
-famous medical schools in Europe, that of the University of
-Montpelier,[9] had taken up practice in Cork some years previously.
-
-Footnote 8:
-
- Born in Tipperary in 1729, he was just thirty-one years old at the
- date of his marriage.
-
-Footnote 9:
-
- His great-grandson, Dr. Thos. Addis Emmet of New York, himself a
- distinguished specialist, records the publication of a book by Dr.
- Robert Emmet, in 1753, on some of the diseases of women. It was
- originally published in Latin and was afterwards translated into
- French, with two editions printed in Paris (_op. cit._ p. 47).
-
-In due course the good-natured gossips of Cork learned that Dr. Emmet
-had sent proposals, through James Mason, jun., to Mr. and Mrs. James
-Mason of Ballydowney, for the hand of their daughter, Elizabeth, and
-that the parents, having satisfied themselves, after due enquiry, that
-the connection was a suitable one, had given their consent to the
-marriage. Dr. Emmet was the son of a physician, Dr. Christopher Emmet,
-in Tipperary, and in addition to his professional earnings had inherited
-a considerable fortune from his father. Through his mother, Rebecca
-Temple, he was connected with one of the most aristocratic families in
-England. Satisfactory marriage settlements were speedily arranged, and
-preparations were pushed on for the wedding, which took place in Cork on
-November 16th, 1760.
-
-Dr. Madden informs us, on the authority of Elizabeth Mason’s nephew, Mr.
-J. St. John Mason, that the doctor built a large house for his bride in
-George’s Street. It seems probable that the _ménage_ included from the
-beginning the doctor’s widowed mother, Mrs. Rebecca Temple Emmet, and
-his widowed and childless sister-in-law, Mrs. Grace Russell Emmet,
-relict of his brother Thomas, who died in 1754. At all events these two
-ladies died under the doctor’s roof, after the family had moved to
-Dublin; the elder in 1774, the younger in 1788. A bequest of the latter
-to her “dear sister-in-law” of a gold watch, and ample legacies to the
-children seem to betoken that Elizabeth Emmet had the secret of gaining
-the hearts of her husband’s kin, and that as mistress of a large and
-wealthy household she knew how to make all who sat by her hearth, or
-gathered round her table, happy.
-
-She was soon busy in her nursery. In 1761, her first-born son,
-Christopher Temple Emmet, made his entry into it. The boy was destined,
-like Cuchullin, to “a great name and a short life.” He was only
-twenty-eight when he died, but he had already impressed his
-contemporaries as one of the most brilliant men of his time. Grattan,
-who disliked the Emmets intensely (because they had the courage of their
-convictions, and he, in spite of his fiery rhetoric, was all for
-compromise and security), has left on record his opinion of Temple
-Emmet, and it is worth quoting at length:—
-
-“Temple Emmet, before he came to the Bar, knew more law than any of the
-judges on the bench; and if he had been placed on one side, and the
-whole bench opposed to him, he could have been examined against them,
-and would have surpassed them all; he would have answered better both in
-law and divinity than any judge or any bishop in the land. He had a
-wonderful memory—he recollected everything—it stuck to him with singular
-tenacity. He showed this in his early youth, and on one occasion he gave
-a strong instance of it. There existed at that time in Dublin College,
-an institution called the Historical Society; there were subjects
-selected for discussion, and prior to the debate there was an
-examination in history. On one occasion the books happened to be
-mislaid, and it was thought no examination could have taken place; but
-Emmet, whose turn it was to be in the chair, and who had read the
-course, recollected the entire, and examined in every part of it, and
-with surprising ability.”[10]
-
-Footnote 10:
-
- Grattan’s “Life and Times.” By Henry Grattan, the younger. IV. 356.
-
-In reading the records of eighteenth-century families, we are equally
-astonished at the size of them, and the small proportion of their
-members to survive infancy. Dr. and Mrs. Emmet had seventeen children in
-seventeen years, and of these there only grew to manhood and womanhood
-three sons, Christopher Temple, Thomas Addis (born 1764), Robert (born
-1778), and one daughter, Mary Anne (born 1773). Of the other thirteen,
-there remained only their names in Aunt Grace’s family bible, followed
-by the pitiable record, “died young.”
-
-One circumstance moves us strangely: four little Robert Emmets (the
-first born in 1771, the others in 1774, 1776, 1777) came, and finding
-the burden of life too heavy, laid it quickly down, until _he_ came, the
-fifth, the destined one, who was to take it up and carry it, until his
-hero-fate bade him lay it down—for Ireland.
-
-Perhaps the little graves that multiplied so fast in the Cork cemetery
-made that city a depressing place for Elizabeth Emmet; or perhaps her
-husband was attracted to Dublin, by the promises of professional
-advancement offered by the appointment to the Viceroyalty of his
-kinsman, the Marquis of Buckingham. At all events it is a matter of
-history that Dr. and Mrs. Emmet came to Dublin in 1771 and took up their
-residence in Molesworth Street.[11] Here a number of their children were
-born, including Mary Anne (1773) and Robert (1778).
-
-Footnote 11:
-
- The identification of the house is of much interest, as it was that in
- which Robert Emmet was born. A writer in _Georgian Society Record_
- (IV. 94) states that it is now numbered 22, and forms portion of
- Kilworth House.
-
-In this same year, 1771, Dr. Emmet was appointed State Physician, and
-owing to his character and capacity, was soon in possession also, of a
-large private practice. He was a charming, genial man, and a great
-favourite with his patients. His wife’s nephew, St. John Mason,
-described him to Dr. Madden as “a man of easy and gentlemanly manners,
-remarkable for vivacity and pleasantry, but free from coarseness or that
-exaggeration of expression in moments of hilarity called grimace. He
-possessed humour but not of a caustic nature. In discourse he was fluent
-and happy in the choice of words, and in the use of classical
-quotations. He was remarkably punctual and precise in business and
-professional affairs.” By his professional skill and business prudence
-Dr. Emmet amassed a considerable fortune, and lived in a manner
-commensurate with it, entertaining much good company, and taking a
-leading part in the brilliant society of the day.
-
-After the birth of their youngest child, Robert, in 1778, the Emmets
-moved from their house in Molesworth Street, to a splendid new mansion
-in Stephen’s Green. Those were the days of the Volunteers, and Ireland,
-stirred to the depths by the example of America’s struggle for freedom,
-was gathering her forces to make the same demand, which America had
-already secured—and to back it by the same arguments. Less fortunate
-than America—or less wisely and nobly led—Ireland did not force the
-question to the decision of the field of battle, but accepted in full
-settlement of her claim a something which only Grattan and his friends,
-blinded by their own verbal fire-works, could have mistaken for liberty.
-Dr. Robert Emmet was one of those who saw, from the beginning, the
-inadequacy of the Settlement of 1782; and there is no doubt but that it
-was from him that his sons learned that political creed—the doctrine of
-“Absolute Independence”—for which one of them was to suffer the “white
-martyrdom” of exile, and the other the “red martyrdom” of blood. Grattan
-and Curran and others of their ilk who could never forgive those who had
-the pluck and honesty to draw their logical conclusion from the premises
-which they themselves had instituted, have tried to discredit Dr. Emmet
-by throwing ridicule on him. Grattan’s son quotes his father as saying
-that “Dr. Emmet had his pill and his plan, and he mixed so much politics
-with his prescription, that he would kill the patient who took the one,
-and ruin the country that listened to the other.” And Curran loved to
-raise a laugh among his friends—Sir Jonah Barrington and other
-high-minded gentlemen—by “taking off” the Doctor administering “their
-morning draught” to his sons. “Well, Temple, what would you do for your
-country? Addis, would you kill your brother for your country? Would you
-kill your sister for your country? Would you kill me?” We can listen
-with equanimity to the bitter epigrams of Grattan, or the monkey-like
-buffoonery of Curran when we remember what his own sons thought of Dr.
-Emmet: “Dear shade of my venerated father,” cried Robert as he stood in
-the dock facing his iniquitous judges and accusers, “look down on your
-suffering son, and see has he for one moment deviated from those moral
-and patriotic principles which you so early instilled into his youthful
-mind, and for which he has now to offer up his life.” And Thomas Addis
-Emmet, writing to his mother from Brussels, on the receipt of the news
-of his father’s death (December, 1802), has drawn for his own, and his
-mother’s consolation, a noble portrait of him whom they had lost: “The
-first comfort you can know must spring up from within yourself, from
-your reflection and religion, from your recalling to memory that my
-father’s active and vigorous mind was always occupied in doing good to
-others. That his seventy-five years were unostentatiously but
-inestimably filled with perpetual services to his fellow-creatures. That
-although he was tried, and that severely, with some of those calamities
-from which we cannot be exempt, yet he enjoyed an uncommon portion of
-tranquillity and happiness, for, by his firmness and understanding, he
-was enabled to bear like a man the visitations of external misfortunes,
-and from within no troubled conscience or compunction of self-reproach
-ever disturbed his peace.”
-
-The years from 1778 to 1789 were, doubtless, the happiest years in
-Elizabeth Emmet’s life. The elder boys, Christopher Temple and
-Thomas Addis, were at the University, and a mother even less tender
-than she, could not but be filled with pride and happiness at the
-brilliant records they were making for themselves. In one of these
-years there arrived from America kinsfolk of her husband’s, Sir John
-and Robert Temple, and the latter’s family, and in the hospitable
-eighteenth-century manner which its big houses and generous style of
-living fostered, they became inmates of Dr. and Mrs. Emmet’s house.
-The tie which bound the Emmets to the Temples was strengthened, when
-in 1784 Christopher Temple Emmet married his cousin, Miss Anne
-Western Temple, daughter of Robert. He had been called to the Bar a
-short time previously and was in extensive practice. I have already
-quoted Grattan’s opinion of his gifts. Even more significant was the
-testimony—spoken of all places in the world—in the very Court
-wherein Christopher’s youngest brother was awaiting the
-death-sentence—and by the lips that were so soon to pronounce it,
-the cruel lips of “Hanging Judge” Norbury. “You had an eldest
-brother whom death snatched away, and who when living was one of the
-greatest ornaments of the Bar. The laws of his country were the
-study of his youth, and the study of his maturer years was to
-cultivate and support them.” With Christopher marked out, by the
-judgment of all the competent men of his time for high advancement;
-with a charming and amiable new daughter added to her household in
-the shape of Christopher’s wife; with her second son, Thomas Addis,
-winning all sorts of distinctions for himself in the University of
-Edinburgh, whither he had gone to study medicine; with Mary Anne,
-growing into lovely womanhood, and showing a strength of character
-and a breadth of intellect, which stamped her as a true Emmet; with
-young Robert, earning praise from his masters and regard from his
-comrades; with the spectacle of her husband’s delight in all this to
-double her own—Elizabeth Emmet might well count herself, for one
-golden moment at least, that rare thing: a perfectly happy woman.
-
-Alas! Alas! how short the moment to which we may cry with Faust, “tarry
-awhile, thou art so fair.” Very speedily, Elizabeth Emmet’s “fair
-moment” passed. In February, 1789, her son, Christopher Temple, went
-“circuit” in Munster—and one day to those who waited his return in the
-pleasant home in Stephen’s Green there came the tragic news of his death
-from smallpox. The blow was too severe for Christopher’s young wife. She
-died a few months after her husband, leaving their little daughter,
-Kitty, to the care of her grandparents. Elizabeth Emmet had to live
-on—to face the sorrows that yet awaited her.
-
-At the desire of Dr. Emmet, the second son, Thomas Addis, anxious “to
-fill” as far as in him lay, “the place of his brother,” turned aside
-from the profession of medicine, in which he had already graduated, and
-took up that of law. He was called to the Bar in 1790. In 1791, he
-married Miss Jane Patten, daughter of Rev. John Patten of Clonmel, his
-choice of a bride giving the greatest satisfaction to his father and
-mother.
-
-At first the young couple lived with the old Doctor and his wife, as
-part of the one household; but as the little grandchildren began to fill
-the nursery, it was found desirable to provide separate establishments.
-The Doctor, with this end in view, divided his house in Stephen’s Green,
-West, into two portions. It stood (and still stands, divided as the
-Doctor left it into two residences) at the corner of Lamb’s Lane and
-Stephen’s Green, West,[12] and the Doctor kept the corner portion for
-himself and assigned the inner to his son’s family. Thomas Addis Emmet
-had, also, as we know from Tone’s “Autobiography,” “a charming villa” at
-Rathfarnham, and doubtless the whole family were made welcome in it,
-whenever the call of the countryside overbid the attractions of the
-town, in the years previous to Dr. Emmet’s purchase of Casino—the
-country residence where he spent his last years.
-
-Footnote 12:
-
- Mr. Reynolds identifies them as 124 and 125 Stephen’s Green, West. In
- Dr. Emmet’s time the house was numbered 109.
-
-The mention of Tone fitly introduces the years of Thomas Addis Emmet’s
-public life—his efforts for Catholic Emancipation, his connection with
-the United Irishmen. But, as we shall speak more fully of these years
-when we come to tell the story of Thomas Addis Emmet’s wife, we shall
-content ourselves here with a thought of the anxieties, which must have
-been the constant companions of a woman so clever and far-sighted as his
-mother. Where was all this leading to? Her son, himself with his clear
-grave eyes and resolute heart, knew perfectly well—like the majority of
-the leaders of the United Irishmen—that the course in which he was
-embarked was one which would, most probably, call for the sacrifice of
-all that men hold dear. Brilliant professional prospects; the elegance
-and comfort of a home adorned by a charming wife and a band of lovely
-children; property and position and the interest in a settled order of
-things which they bring with them; life itself—all these Thomas Addis
-Emmet saw himself called upon at any moment to renounce for the loyal
-service of Ireland. “It is a hard service they take,” indeed, “who serve
-the _Poor Old Woman_”! “But, for all that, they think themselves well
-paid.”
-
-On March the 12th, 1798, when the Government, acting on the information
-of Thomas Reynolds, swooped down on the Leinster Directory of United
-Irishmen, assembled in Oliver Bond’s house, Emmet was arrested in his
-home in Stephen’s Green and committed to Newgate, from whence he was
-afterwards conveyed to Kilmainham. Of his wife’s heroic conduct on that
-occasion we shall have an inspiring tale to tell. While her
-daughter-in-law shared her husband’s imprisonment, Elizabeth Emmet found
-merciful occupation in the care of the five little grandchildren whom
-they had confided to her: Robert, Margaret, Elizabeth, John Patten,
-Thomas Addis.
-
-In April, the authorities, alarmed by the spirit of patriotism which was
-manifesting itself among the students of Trinity College, ordered the
-“Visitation,” of which Moore gives an account in his “Memoirs.”
-
-In anticipation of the verdict of Lord Chancellor Fitzgibbon, Robert
-Emmet, who was looked on as the leader of the patriot youths, requested
-the Board of Fellows to take his name off the books of the college.
-During the wild excitement of the next few months: the bloody weeks of
-“the Rising” in May and June; the executions and court-martials of July;
-the French landing in August; the new executions which followed it, in
-September; the capture of Tone in October; his court-martial and death
-in November, all through the tragic calendar of the year 1798, Dr. Emmet
-and his wife Elizabeth had, at least, the comfort of their younger son’s
-constant presence with them.
-
-In this year Dr. Emmet set the houses in Stephen’s Green, and took up
-his residence with his family (which now included his grandchildren) in
-a country house he had recently purchased for himself, Casino, Milltown.
-This historic house still stands, and Mr. Reynolds’s indications make it
-easy to locate: “at the corner of Bird Avenue on the eastern side of the
-Dundrum Road, midway between Milltown and Windy Arbour.”
-
-Two events of much importance mark the following year (1799) in
-Elizabeth Emmet’s maternal calendar. The first was the removal of Thomas
-Addis and the other State prisoners to Fort George in the North of
-Scotland; the second was the marriage of her daughter, Mary Anne, to the
-distinguished barrister, Robert Holmes.
-
-Early in 1800, Robert Emmet visited his brother in Fort George, passing
-from thence to the Continent where he remained until after the signing
-of the Peace of Amiens in 1802.
-
-Later in the year, Jane Emmet made good the design which her conjugal
-affection had long inspired, and which no governmental rebuff could
-weaken—that of joining her husband in Fort George. She went there in
-July, escorted by her brother, John Patten, and accompanied by her three
-elder children, Robert, Margaret, and Elizabeth. With the grandparents
-at Casino were left John Patten, Thomas Addis, and a sturdy little chap
-called Christopher Emmet, who had joined the goodly company since we
-last made the enumeration of them.
-
-During the years Thomas Addis and his wife spent in Fort George there
-was a constant interchange of letters between Casino and the grim
-northern keep in which the Irish State prisoners were so long interned.
-Sometimes the Casino news is conveyed by Dr. Emmet—whose letters remind
-us of St. John Mason’s description of his conversation; sometimes it is
-Mary Anne Holmes who holds the pen; sometimes it is Kitty, the orphan
-daughter of Christopher Temple and Anne Western Temple. But most
-frequently it is the mother and in these letters we get our best picture
-of the sort of woman Elizabeth Emmet was.[13] There are pleasant
-glimpses, too, of the home-life in Casino. We see the father, seeking
-solace for his anxieties in his labours in beautifying the house he
-fondly hoped was to be the home of his children, and his children’s
-children. The thirteen acres around Casino serve the purpose of
-Penelope’s web, and the loving wife finds comfort in watching the
-amusement he gets from his tree-planting and landscape gardening, his
-industry in gravelling the walks and raking them when they have been
-gravelled. Convinced that “the promises of hope are better than the
-gifts of fortune,” he has built a fine nursery ’gainst the happy day
-when all his grandchildren (and their parents) shall be gathered
-together under his patriarchal roof; and a certain cherry tree in full
-blossom makes him and his wife long to see Jane and her charming
-children gathered under it. The Doctor’s craze for transplanting trees
-which, to the rest of the family, seem to be perfectly well placed where
-they are, has grown into a family joke; but his wife is too well pleased
-to see the good effect the interest and occupation have on his health to
-protest now, as she was wont to do, even “tho’ from the earliness of the
-season and the age of the trees she despairs of ever seeing a leaf upon
-any of them.” “As we have a great demand for pea-rods,” she remarks
-jestingly, “they will not be useless.” She gathers up all the news she
-can about their friends, knowing how welcome such items are to exiles.
-Dr. Drennan, who has attended Mary Anne at the birth of her first-born
-baby, is happily “married to a very amiable, pretty young woman”; “he
-has waited to some good purpose.” We have a pretty etching of the author
-of the “Wake of William Orr,” and the famous “Orellana Letters,”
-“leaning over the cradle of his little heir, so anxious about it lest it
-should die.” Other friends, like Lady Anne Fitzgerald, Ally Spring, the
-Temples—and, above all, the Pattens and the Colvilles—find frequent
-mention. She does not hesitate to inculcate certain “musty precepts” as
-to health, which her knowledge of her son’s and her daughter-in-law’s
-dispositions seems to her to call for. Jane must refrain from “the great
-efforts of which she is so fond,” for “system is better than swiftness,”
-and though “we may admire the speed and power of a racehorse, a steady
-draft horse will in general be found as useful and much more durable.”
-Both Thomas Addis and Jane are fond, she knows, of heated rooms and late
-hours, and their prudent mother reminds them of the necessity of fresh
-air in their bed-chamber and living room, and preaches the doctrine of
-“early to bed and early to rise.”
-
-Footnote 13:
-
- They are published at length by Dr. Thomas Addis Emmet in his “Emmet
- Family” (pp. 71-101). They are models of grace and style, and one
- wishes they were in the hands of our women who have so largely lost
- the old-world accomplishment of letter-writing.
-
-But what most people will think the most delightful thing in the letters
-are the pictures they give of the children. As has been already
-mentioned, the three elder were with their parents in Fort George, and
-almost all the State prisoners were lending a hand, each in his own
-speciality, to their education. The accounts of their progress interests
-their grandmother keenly, and she helps with comments on their
-dispositions as she had studied them. She is proud of Elizabeth’s beauty
-and goodness of disposition, of Margaret’s shrewdness of observation,
-and liberality and directness in dealing; but “the tenderness of
-Robert’s tones and the brightness of his countenance give him the
-advantage over all the other children whatever.” It is easy to see that
-Robert is his grandmother’s favourite, dear as all the children are to
-her. A letter from him gives her “great pleasure, for it is a true
-picture of his heart, overflowing with innocence, honesty, and good
-nature.” She begs for “minute accounts of the three children ...,” she
-and her husband “being glad to feed upon crumbs that fall from her son’s
-table.” In return she is almost as minute as her son and daughter-in-law
-could wish about the three from whom they are separated. She draws a
-funny little sketch of the “little fellow,” two-year-old Christopher
-Temple, “fighting hard in dumb show for his share in his grandfather’s
-claret,” and a little later on “engaging in his elder brother’s plays,
-and forcing himself into notice more than the others.” John is the other
-grandmother’s favourite, and Tom is pronounced by Ally Spring “the
-finest child you have,” but “the little fellow,” as Elizabeth always
-calls the baby namesake of her dead first-born, is of all the three
-confided to her care the nearest to her heart. We must, however, reserve
-further quotations from the letters, as far as they regard her
-grandchildren, until we come to discuss their education, at some length,
-in our memoir of their mother.
-
-The letters paint the writer as a grave and somewhat reserved nature.
-She feels that she has not her husband’s “gracious manner,” which
-perhaps prevents her daughter-in-law judging of the strength of her love
-for her. She is inclined by nature to melancholy. “Solitude has through
-life stuck to me like an inner garment, and I find that it exceeds even
-those of the children of Israel; it is a habit that instead of wearing
-by time, grows stronger by constant use.” But she has the great anchors
-of Faith and Charity. She feels her blessings with a grateful heart, and
-wishes to discern and adore the healing hand which has been held out to
-her in the midst of trials and distresses, and without which her natural
-infirmities must have sunk under the scenes she has gone through. The
-most persistent note in this correspondence is that of deep and true
-religious feeling and, as we catch it, we seem to understand how it came
-about that in the midst of the corrupt society which was that of
-eighteenth century Dublin, this woman’s sons were kept chaste and
-undefiled—Moore’s tribute to the unspotted youth of Robert comes back to
-us, bringing with it unconscious tribute to the pure and exalting
-influence of Robert’s mother.
-
-The letters end in 1802, when Thomas Addis Emmet was released from Fort
-George and awaited in Brussels certain developments which were to
-determine his future movements. Here the news of his father’s death
-reached him, and his own letter on that occasion to his mother, which I
-have already quoted, brought forth one from her which, apart from its
-intrinsic interest, must have ever borne in the eyes of her son a
-priceless value, for when he received it, the hand that had penned it
-was long mouldering into dust. It was addressed to the _Poste Restante_,
-New York, and only reached its addressee on his arrival in that city in
-November 11th, 1804.
-
-In the interval the race of Emmet had been practically exterminated in
-the land for which they had given so much. The death of Elizabeth Emmet
-on September 9th, 1803, was followed by her youngest son’s execution a
-few weeks later. In 1804 Mary Anne Holmes died most tragically in the
-arms of her husband, newly liberated from prison. One guesses that the
-little children, John, and Tom, and Temple, were then taken care of by
-their Grandmother Patten, until an opportunity could be found of sending
-them across the Atlantic to their parents. They had gone with
-Grandmother Emmet, when she left Casino, after her husband’s death, to
-take up her residence in Blomfield, Donnybrook. And, no doubt, Mary Anne
-Holmes and poor cousin Kitty did what they could to care for them and
-comfort them. But if the pathos of the scene drawn by Madden of the
-death chamber of Elizabeth Emmet could have borne any heightening,
-doubtless he would have introduced in it the tiny figures of three
-little frightened, sable-clad boys, standing hand in hand for comfort,
-and weeping—though they knew it not—for the tragedy of the passing of
-their house from Irish soil.
-
-
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
-
-
-
-
- The Mother of Lord Edward Fitzgerald
-
- EMILIA MARY, DUCHESS OF LEINSTER (1731-1814)[14]
-
- “And the flower I held brightest of all that grew in soil or shall ever
- grow
- Is rotting in the ground, and will spring no more to lift up my heart.”
- —_A Father’s Keen_, by Patrick O’Hegarty.
-
-Footnote 14:
-
- _Authorities_: Moore’s “Life of Lord Edward Fitzgerald”; Campbell’s
- “Edward and Pamela Fitzgerald,” “Letters of Horace Walpole,” works of
- Mrs. Delaney, etc.
-
-
-“GREATER love than this no man hath, that a man lay down his life for
-his friends.”—(_John_ xv. 13). Ever since that June dawn, when its first
-sweet rays, stealing through the bars of the prison window in Newgate,
-fell on the form that lay rigid and still on the prison bed, we know
-what was “the greatest love” in Lord Edward’s life. For on that sad bed,
-still disordered from the tossings of his fever-racked limbs, still
-stained with his life-blood, there lay one _who had died for Ireland_.
-
-By the supreme test, therefore, vouched for by the Supreme Lover, we
-know that the love of Ireland was Lord Edward’s “greatest love,” and
-that all other loves of his had to yield to its supremacy. But we can
-only measure the magnitude of his love for Ireland, if we have the
-measure of his other loves to set beside it. And so it falls out, that
-we have a particular need, if we would estimate Lord Edward aright, and
-would understand what he had to offer to Ireland, to know something of
-his other loves, and of those who inspired them. Above all we must know
-something of his extraordinary love for his mother.
-
-His letters are full of it: “I am never so happy as when with you,
-dearest mother, you seem to make every distress lighter, and I bear
-everything better, and enjoy everything more when with you.” And again:
-“You cannot think how I feel to want you here. I dined and slept at
-Frescati the other day, Ogilvie and I, _tête-à-tête_. We talked a great
-deal of you. Though the place makes me melancholy, yet it gives one
-pleasant feelings. To be sure, the going to bed without wishing you a
-good night; the coming down in a morning, and not seeing you; the
-sauntering about in the fine sunshine, looking at your flowers and
-shrubs without you to lean upon one, was all very bad indeed. In
-settling my journey that evening, I determined to see you in my way,
-supposing you were even a thousand miles out of it.”
-
-There is one letter to the “dearest of mothers,” in which he places his
-love for her above all else: “I assure you I miss you very, very much. I
-am not half so merry as I should be if you were here. I get tired of
-everything, and want to have you to go and talk to. _You are, after all,
-what I love best in the world._ I love you more than I think I do; but I
-will not give way to such thoughts, for it always makes me grave. I
-really made myself miserable for two days since I left you, by this sort
-of reflections; and in thinking over with myself what misfortunes I
-_could_ bear, I found there was one I _could not_; but God bless you.”
-
-Was it Lord Edward’s surpassing love for his mother, that made her, on
-her side, single him out among all her children to lavish her tenderness
-on; or did she recognise in his great capacity for love a heritage from
-her own nature which drew this son closer to her than any other child
-she had ever borne? It is certain that of her numerous children—they
-counted twenty-one in all—Lord Edward was his mother’s favourite, and
-was accepted as such by the rest of the family. Mr. Gerald Campbell
-thinks her very frankness in avowing her preference for him prevented
-any jealousy among the others. Among the seventy or eighty letters of
-the Duchess to her daughters and others which Mr. Campbell examined
-before writing his charming book, “Edward and Pamela Fitzgerald,” there
-is hardly one, he tells us, “in which she does not express her exceeding
-love for him above all the rest.” He quotes: “Dear, dear Eddy! How
-constantly he is in my thoughts!” “In Edward nothing surprises me, dear
-angel; he has always loved me in an uncommon degree from childhood.” “I
-do not pretend to say that Dearest Angel Edward is not the first object:
-you have all been used to allow me that indulgence of partiality to him,
-and none of you, I believe, blame me for it, or see my excessive
-attachment to that Dear Angel with a jealous eye.” The truth is that
-Lord Edward had to an extraordinary degree, the gift, so often accorded
-as a birthright to persons with a great work to do in the world, of
-winning hearts. And probably his own brothers and sisters were as ready
-to succumb to his magnetism as the rest of the world.
-
-It would not be surprising if Lord Edward inherited his power of winning
-hearts, as well as his capacity for love, from his fascinating mother,
-and she, in her turn, wielded it in virtue of her Stuart blood. For she
-was the great-granddaughter of Charles II and the beautiful Louise de
-Kérouaille, Duchess of Portsmouth. Of the numerous daughters of her
-father and mother, the Duke and Duchess of Richmond, four grew to
-womanhood, and of these Lady Emilia Mary was the second. All four were
-famous for their great beauty and charm; and all four have played a
-notable part in history. Lady Caroline, who married Stephen Fox,
-afterwards Lord Holland, was the mother of the brilliant statesman,
-Charles James Fox. Lady Louisa married Mr. Connolly, of Castletown. Lady
-Sarah, some years after the unfortunate termination of her first
-marriage with Sir Charles Bunbury, married Colonel Napier and became the
-mother of many distinguished soldier sons, including Sir William Napier,
-the historian of the Peninsular Wars, and Sir Charles Napier, the
-conqueror of Scinde.
-
-I do not know why the novelists who have found in the life romance of
-the four beautiful Lennox girls such a wealth of material should have
-passed over the love-story of their parents. It is, if possible, more
-romantic than any of them. The story is told by their grandson, Mr.
-Henry Napier, and published in the introduction to the “Life and Letters
-of Lady Sarah Lennox” (pp. 85-87), his mother:
-
-“My grandfather, the second Duke of Richmond, was one of the Lords of
-the Bedchamber to King George the Second, who then resided at Kensington
-Palace. He had been, as was the custom in those days, married while yet
-a boy to Lady Sarah Cadogan.... This marriage was made to cancel a
-gambling debt, the young people’s consent having been the last thing
-thought of; the Earl of March[15] was sent for from school, and the
-young lady from her nursery, a clergyman was in attendance, and they
-were told they were immediately to become man and wife! The young lady
-is not reported to have uttered a word; the gentleman exclaimed, ‘They
-surely are not going to marry me to that dowdy!’ The ceremony, however,
-took place; a postchaise was ready at the door, and Lord March was
-instantly packed off with his tutor to make the ‘_grand tour_,’ while
-his young wife was returned to the care of her mother, a Dutch woman,
-daughter of William Munster, Counsellor of Holland. After some years
-spent abroad Lord March returned, a well-educated handsome young man,
-but with no very agreeable recollections of his wife. Wherefore, instead
-of at once seeking his own home, he went directly to the Opera or
-Theatre, where he amused himself between the acts in examining the
-company. He had not long been occupied in this manner when a very young
-and beautiful woman more especially struck his fancy, and turning to a
-gentleman beside him he asked who she was. ‘You must be a stranger in
-London,’ replied the gentleman, ‘not to know the toast of the town, the
-beautiful Lady March.’ Agreeably surprised at this intelligence, Lord
-March proceeded to the box, announced himself, and claimed his bride—the
-very dowdy whom he had so scornfully rejected some years before, but
-with whom he afterwards lived so happily that she died of a broken heart
-within the year of his decease, which took place in Godalming, in
-Surrey, in August, 1750, when my mother was only five years and a few
-months old.”
-
-Footnote 15:
-
- The title borne by the hero of the story while his father, the first
- Duke of Richmond, was still alive.
-
-[Illustration:
-
- EMILY, COUNTESS OF KILDARE
- The Mother of Lord Edward Fitzgerald
-]
-
-The conjugal affection which ever afterwards united the hero and heroine
-of this pretty romance receives emphatic testimony from Horace Walpole.
-In the gossip he gathers up for his correspondents their names figure
-frequently; and while he jests maliciously about the Duke’s “pride and
-Stuartism,” and the Duchess’s “grandeur,” he is an enthusiastic admirer
-of her Grace’s beauty, and his cynicism is not proof against the
-spectacle of her love for her husband, and her devotion to her children.
-Like her daughter, the Duchess of Leinster, she had an extraordinarily
-large family—twenty-six, as we learn from Horace Walpole[16]—but as was
-so often the case in these enormous eighteenth-century families—but a
-small proportion of them survived their infancy. We have a pretty
-picture of the Duchess and her husband (“who sat by his wife all night
-kissing her hand”) at the ball given by “long Sir Thomas Robinson” for
-“the Duke’s little girl,” Lady Caroline Lennox, in October, 1741. “The
-beauties,” he informs his Florentine correspondent, Sir Horace Mann,
-“were the Duke of Richmond’s two daughters,[17] and their mother, still
-handsomer than they.” At the Duchess of Norfolk’s great “masquerade” of
-February 17th, 1742, to which Royalty went, ablaze with diamonds, and
-where “quantities of pretty Vandykes, and all kinds of old pictures
-walked out of their frames,” the “two finest and most charming masks,”
-in Mr. Walpole’s opinion, “were their Graces of Richmond, like Henry the
-Eighth and Jane Seymour, excessively rich, and both so handsome!”[18]
-
-Footnote 16:
-
- “Letters,” II., 221.
-
-Footnote 17:
-
- “Letters,” I., 85. The editor of the Walpole “Letters,” identifies the
- second of these girls as Lady Emily, our heroine, but it seems very
- unlikely, as she was only ten years old at the date of this ball.
-
-Footnote 18:
-
- _Ibid._, p. 146.
-
-Owing to their father’s position at Court, the little Lennox girls were
-well known to the old king, George II, and prime favourites with him. He
-was Lady Emily’s godfather, and the christening cup he gave her is still
-preserved at Carton. He was delighted, beyond measure, when one day,
-taking his constitutional on the broad walk at Kensington, he saw a
-charming little maid rush from her French _bonne_ and come bounding up
-to him with a saucy “_Comment vous portez vous Monsieur le Roi, vous
-avez une grande et belle maison ici, n’est ce pas?_” It was little Lady
-Sarah Lennox, and the king, having discovered her identity, invited her
-_bonne_ to carry her often to see his “_grande et belle maison_.” The
-children learned to speak French before they spoke English, and Lady
-Emily, in particular, showed herself all through life an enthusiastic
-admirer of French literature, and very accessible to the new ideas of
-which that literature made itself the vehicle. Horace Walpole tells us
-of the delight he experienced, on one occasion when he had invited her
-and her sister, Lady Caroline, with their husbands, Lord Kildare and Mr.
-Fox, to Strawberry Hill, and the weather turned out too wet to show his
-company the wonders of his castle and grounds, to find that Lady Kildare
-was “_a true Sévignist_.” “You know,” he remarks to his correspondent,
-Richard Bentley, “what pleasure I have in any increase in our sect”
-(_i.e._ the cult of Madame de Sévigné). “I thought she looked handsomer
-than ever, as she talked of _Notre Dame des Rochers_.”[19] Later on, we
-hear from Mrs. Delany of her admiration for Rousseau, and his theories
-of education; and we know from one of her daughters that her great
-interest in education made her a diligent reader of Madame de Genlis.
-She seems to have spent much time in her girlhood with her mother’s
-relations in Holland, and this fact, together with the French influences
-which presided over her education, gave her a European point of view,
-which was in striking contrast with the insularity of the majority of
-English-women of her class and generation. Doubtless, this
-cosmopolitanism of his mother’s was, also, not without its effect on
-Lord Edward.
-
-Footnote 19:
-
- A name given by Horace Walpole to Madame de Sévigné, of whose
- “Letters” he was a devoted enthusiast. He sometimes calls her “_Notre
- Dame de Livry_”—_Les Rochers_ and _Livry_ were the names of her
- country seats.
-
-In 1744, her elder sister, Lady Caroline, eloped with Mr. Henry Fox, to
-the great displeasure of the Richmonds. “The town,” writes Horace
-Walpole to his namesake in Florence (May 27th, 1744) “has been in a
-great bustle about a private match; but which by the ingenuity of the
-ministry, has been made politics. Mr. Fox fell in love with Lady
-Caroline Lennox, asked her, was refused, and stole her. His father was a
-footman;[20] her great grandfather, a king: _hinc illae lacrymae_.”
-
-Footnote 20:
-
- Sir Stephen Fox was said originally to have been a choir-boy in
- Salisbury Cathedral. He died, after a romantic career, and having held
- office under four sovereigns—Charles II, James II, King William, and
- Queen Anne—one of the wealthiest men in England.
-
-It was only after some years, and when the birth of Lady Caroline’s
-eldest little boy made the struggle between tenderness and pride in her
-parents’ hearts incline overwhelmingly towards the former, that they
-consented to a reconciliation. The touching letter which the Duke
-addresses to his daughter on this occasion has been published by the
-Princess Liechtenstein in her book on “Holland House” (pp. 68-72), and
-will be read with interest by all who have learned to like Lord Edward’s
-maternal grandfather and grandmother, from Horace Walpole’s account of
-them.
-
-One consequence of Lady Caroline’s runaway marriage was to make the Duke
-and Duchess of Richmond extra careful about the chaperonage of their
-second daughter, Lady Emily. Horace Walpole has an amusing story to tell
-in this connection of a little “set-to” between the Duchess of Richmond
-and the witty but eccentric Duchess of Queensberry. “There is a very
-good quarrel on foot between two duchesses: she of Queensberry sent to
-invite Lady Emily Lennox to a ball: her Grace of Richmond, who is
-wonderfully cautious since Lady Caroline’s elopement, sent word ‘she
-could not determine.’ The other sent again the same night: the same
-answer. The Queensberry then sent word, that she had made up her
-company, and desired to be excused from having Lady Emily’s; but at the
-bottom of the card wrote, ‘Too great a trust.’”[21]
-
-Footnote 21:
-
- Letter to Sir Horace Mann, March 29, 1745.
-
-Carefully guarded as Lady Emily might be, the town was soon busy with
-her name. When Prince Lobkowitz arrived in England in the beginning of
-1745 and was observed to pay great attention to the Duke of Richmond’s
-charming daughter, it was immediately reported that they would make a
-match of it. The gossip even reached Mrs. Dewes, deep in the provinces,
-and in reply to a question she puts her sister, Mrs. Delany, about it,
-the latter gives the accepted version of the story:[22] “You were not
-quite misinformed about Lady Emily Lennox and Prince Lobkowitz; he _was_
-in love with her and made proposals of marriage, but the Emperor would
-not consent on some foolish reason of State. I never heard that Lady
-Emily was in any way engaged to him, and everything is agreed on between
-her and Lord Kildare, and my Lady Kildare is come over for the wedding.
-Prince Lob. was in England last year.”
-
-Footnote 22:
-
- Letter to Mrs. Dewes, November 7, 1746.
-
-Well informed as Mrs. Delany prided herself on being, it is not to be
-expected that she would know as much about the matter as Lady Emily
-herself; and fortunately we have in a letter of the latter’s addressed
-to her friend, Hon. Anne Hamilton,[23] her version of the incident. As
-the letter gives a vivid idea of our heroine as a lively girl, of
-fourteen or fifteen, and of the sort of society in which she moved, it
-is worth reproducing.
-
-Footnote 23:
-
- Afterwards Countess of Roden. The letters of Lady Emily to Miss
- Hamilton are in the possession of the Earl of Roden and have been
- published by the Marquis of Kildare in his “Earls of Kildare,” Second
- Addenda, 1866, p. 76 _et seq._
-
-“Prince Lobkowitz, who I believe you remember a giddy, good-natured wild
-young man, as any in the world, was coming to Goodwood, and has had a
-fall off his horse, so that I fancy he won’t be here this good while; _a
-propos_ to him I must make you laugh and tell you what the Town says,
-_he is in love with me_, I very much so with him, but his relatives
-don’t care he should marry a Protestant, though as he is his own master
-that would be no objection, but that Papa and Mamma, great as he is,
-won’t part with me, and besides have other views for me; is not this a
-pretty story. I assure you ’tis told for certain all over the Town, and
-several of my friends have told me of it. The truth of the matter is, he
-is vastly fashionable, and as I happen to speak French and to know most
-of his acquaintances in Holland, he takes it into his head to talk a
-good deal to me, and you know in London two people can never talk
-together a quarter of an hour but they must immediately either be in
-love or to be married. They say also that the Venetian ambassadrice is
-in love with him and with rather more truth, for she really behaves very
-ridiculously about him.[24] As you love these sort of things I must tell
-you a ridiculous thing enough. Prince Lobkowitz was one night at supper
-at the Venetian ambassadrice’s and the Prince of Wales sent for him,
-upon which he went and she was excessively angry with him for leaving
-her to go; in joking she said since he would go she would keep his hat.
-Accordingly the next morning she cut the hat into a million of little
-pieces and sent it to him with her compliments. About a week after he
-told her a pye which he had promised her had come from Germany, upon
-which she invited a vast deal of company to dinner, and when she came to
-open the pye, behold it was the bits of hat which she had sent him. I
-think it gives one a very good notion of them both.”
-
-Footnote 24:
-
- Some of the pranks of this lady, which created a sensation, even in
- the irresponsible society of the period, are related with great
- _verve_ by Horace Walpole.
-
-Very soon after, “the Town” had given her a new suitor—and this time
-with more reason. As early as April 15th, 1746, Mr. Horace Walpole was
-able to report to Sir Horace Mann that the Duke of Richmond “has refused
-his beautiful Lady Emily to Lord Kildare, the richest and first peer of
-Ireland, on a ridiculous notion of the King’s evil being in the family.”
-The Earl persisted in his suit, and the Duke’s objections were finally
-overcome so that by the end of the year we find Lady Emily writing to
-her friend “Nancy” Hamilton to announce her betrothal. “In short, in
-order that the whole town of London should not tell a lye, Lord Kildare
-desires to make them speak truth, and as Papa and Mamma have no
-objection to it. I am willing to save them from this and heartily wish
-they would tell no more.” A little after the announcement of the
-engagement, Mrs. Delany met the beautiful bride-elect at the Prince of
-Wales’s “Birthday” in Leicester House, and waxes enthusiastic in a
-letter to her sister, Mrs. Dewes (January 21, 1747), over her
-loveliness. Even the hideous dress of the moment (“hoops of enormous
-size and most people wear vast winkers to their heads”), which make
-other women look like “blown bladders,” could not destroy Lady Emily’s
-exquisite beauty. “The reigning beauty I think among the young things is
-Miss Carpenter, Lord Carpenter’s daughter, and since Lady Dysart was
-fifteen I have never seen anything so handsome; but the prize of beauty
-is disputed with her by Lady Emily Lennox. She is indeed ‘like some tall
-stately tower’; the other is ‘some Virgin Queen’s delicious bower!’”
-
-The marriage took place on February 7th, 1747, when the bride was a
-little over sixteen. Horace Walpole has the record of the event in the
-chronicle he sends his friend in Florence on February 23rd, 1747. “Lord
-Kildare is married to the charming Lady Emily Lennox, who went the very
-next day to see her sister, Lady Caroline Fox, to the great
-mortification of the haughty Duchess-mother. They have not given her a
-shilling, but the King endows her by making Lord Kildare a
-Viscount-Sterling[25] and they talk of giving him a pinchbeck dukedom,
-too, to keep him always first peer of Ireland.”
-
-Footnote 25:
-
- That is an _English_ viscount, in contrast to the “pinchbeck” of an
- Irish title.
-
-It was quite true that Lady Kildare (who, in common with the rest of the
-family, had been forbidden all intercourse with Lady Caroline since the
-latter had married Mr. Fox in opposition to their parents’ wishes) made
-immediate use of the liberty conferred by her new position to visit her
-sister. Lord Kildare and she urged a reconciliation, with more zeal
-perhaps than discretion. In the letter of the Duke to Lady Caroline to
-which I have already referred, he complains very bitterly of the tone
-adopted by the Kildares, “who instead of makeing entreatys, were pleas’d
-to tell your mother that wee _ought_ to forgive you, and were blamed by
-the world, and by themselves for not doing it, which is a language I
-would hear from nobody, and indeed when they saw how it was received,
-they did not think fit to repeat it. And I assure you my reconcilement
-to you has been defer’d upon this account, for I will have both them and
-yourselves know that it proceeds from the tenderness arising in our own
-breasts for you, and not from their misjudg’d aplication.”
-
-The first few months after the marriage were spent by Lord and Lady
-Kildare in England and the young wife’s letters to her girl friend are
-full of bridal happiness. But her “dearest Nanny” is not to think that
-when she says she is happy, “it is from being her own mistress, doing
-just what she please, and all the fuss and racket.” “No, believe me,
-that my happiness, thank God, is upon a better foundation. It is from
-being marry’d to the person I love best in the world, and who is the
-best and kindest of husbands.”
-
-James, twentieth Earl of Kildare, was just twenty-five at the time of
-his marriage, and had succeeded his father, Robert, nineteenth Earl,
-three years previously. His young Countess might well find him “the best
-and kindest of husbands,” for he was one of the best and kindest of men,
-much concerned for the welfare of his people and his country, and taking
-a serious view of the duties and responsibilities of his great position.
-He was the leader of the popular party in the Irish House of Lords, and
-when the corrupt administration under the Duke of Dorset and Primate
-Stone had become intolerable to the people he took the bold step of
-presenting a memorial against them to King George II. His brave fight
-with tyranny and corruption made him the idol of the populace, and on
-one occasion “he was an entire hour passing through the crowd from
-Parliament House to Kildare House, and a medal was struck to commemorate
-the memorial, representing the Earl, sword in hand, guarding a heap of
-money on a table from a hand which attempted to take it, with the motto,
-‘Touch not, says Kildare.’”
-
-By July, 1747, the young Earl and Countess were back in Ireland settled
-for the moment at Dollardstown. The Dowager Countess and Lady Margot,
-the Earl’s sister, came on a visit to them, and these with Miss
-Brudenell, the young Countess’s companion, and a couple of men friends
-of the Earl’s, make up a party very much to the bride’s taste. “We read,
-work, write and walk,” she informs her confidante Miss “Nanny.” They are
-presently to take up residence in Carton, which the Dowager Lady Kildare
-has given over to her son and his bride, having completed it after her
-husband’s death and furnished it for the young people from top to
-bottom—even to “the table linen.” It would be ungrateful of the new
-Countess—after this generosity on the part of her mother-in-law—to seem
-indifferent about Carton, but in truth she leaves the simplicity of
-Dollardstown for the grandeur of Carton with much regret.
-
-A few weeks later we find our young people in residence at Carton, with
-the elder Lady Kildare and her daughter, Lady Margot, as their guests.
-The young wife, one gathers, stands a little in awe of her grave,
-reserved mother-in-law, whose manner “until ye are well acquainted with
-it, is not very taking.” But she is quite in love with Lady Margot,
-“whom she [_i.e._ the Dowager] is very strict with.” She is “really
-charming, and I find I shall grow vastly fond of her. She is vastly
-lively, very sensible and a very open heart, for she always speaks her
-mind, and has a very open heart.” In a later letter she makes merry over
-the compassion she received from those friends who thought it “a very
-dismal thing for her” to have to leave London—the new London house the
-Earl had bought for her in Whitehall—“to come with the person in the
-world I love best, who studies how to please me and make me happy more
-and more every day, to a very pretty country where I meet with nothing
-but civilities from everybody, to a whole family who are agreeable and
-cheerful and vastly fond of me, and to a country where I have a charming
-house building [Leinster House], a sweet place [Leinster Lodge] which
-you know I always delight in, and another pretty place [Carton].
-Certainly I deserve great compassion for all this.”
-
-While “her charming great house” was a-building, the Earl took a town
-house for his bride’s first winter in Dublin in Stephen’s Green, and she
-did the honours of her great position by giving some large parties in
-it. She enters with great zest into her Lord’s building and improvement
-schemes. Beautiful Leinster House, perhaps the most perfect creation of
-Richard Castle’s architectural genius, was nearing its completion, and
-although her health does not permit her to share her Lord’s weekly visit
-to Carton, she keeps _au courant_ with all that is being done there.
-“Lord Kildare has cut down the avenue, which I am sure makes it
-charming, and has made a very fine lawn before the House, which I think
-is the greatest beauty a place can have.”
-
-A few weeks after the date of this letter, her first child George, Lord
-Offaly, was born (January 15th, 1748) and the young mother’s cup of
-happiness seemed full to overflowing. She was one of those women who
-have the genius and the passion of maternity, and much of her sweetness
-was due to this characteristic. During the following years her letters
-to her friend are full of the pretty children who have followed George
-into her nursery at quick intervals. William, her second son, afterwards
-Duke of Leinster, was born in March, 1749, and the Countess’s first
-little girl arrived in August of the following year. Her friend receives
-an entertaining account of the small bundle of femininity: “in the first
-place her name is Caroline Elizabeth Mabel. Caroline after my sister,
-Elizabeth after the old Lady Kildare in London, and Mabel to please Mr.
-Fox, who had entertained himself while he was here in reading over old
-manuscripts and letters belonging to the Kildare family, in which he
-found there had been a great many Mabels, and therefore begged we would
-tack it on to the other two, which was done accordingly. And now ye have
-the history of her name. I will tell you she is in the first place fat
-and plump, has very fine dark long eyes which I think a great beauty,
-don’t you? and her nose and mouth like my mother’s, with a peaked chin
-like me. As for her complexion she is so full of red gum that there is
-no judging of it, but what is best of all is that she is in perfect
-health and has been so ever since she was born. But it’s not fair to her
-brothers to entertain you only about her without mentioning them.” And
-so we get a charming picture of the two little boys, and incidentally a
-glimpse of their pretty young nineteen year-old mother in the midst of
-them: “To begin with George. He is in the first place much improved as
-to his beauty, but the most entertaining, comical arch little rogue that
-ever was, chatters incessantly, is immensely fond of me, and coaxes me
-not a little, for he is cunning enough, very sweet tempered and easily
-governed by gentle means, in short if I was to sit down and wish for a
-child it would be just such a sort of boy as he is now. William is a
-sweet child, too, in a different way, he is not so lively or active as
-George is by a good deal, but is forward enough both as to his walking
-and talking, for he says several words and walks quite alone. As for his
-little person it is fat, round and white as he was when you saw him, and
-does not improve as to that; he is the best-natured creature that can
-be, and excessively passionate already, but puts up his mouth to kiss
-and be friends the very next moment. He is vastly fond of his nurse and
-does not care twopence for me, so you may imagine I cannot for my life
-be as fond of him (though in reality I love him as well) as of George,
-who is always coaxing and kissing me, and does not care for anybody
-else.”
-
-The poor young mother was to have the great grief of seeing two of these
-pretty children die young. Lord Offaly died in 1765 at the age of
-seventeen, and was succeeded as heir, by William. Little Caroline died
-in 1754 at the age of four. The fatality which, as has been already
-observed, pursued the large eighteenth-century families, did not spare
-our beautiful Countess’s. Of the nineteen children (nine sons and ten
-daughters) she bore her lord during the twenty-six years of their
-married life there only survived the years of childhood six sons:
-William, Charles, Henry, Edward, Robert, Gerald; and four daughters:
-Emily (afterwards Countess of Bellamont), Charlotte (afterwards Baroness
-Rayleigh), Sophia, and Lucy.
-
-In the meantime, knowing nothing of what the future has in store for
-her, the Countess is a very happy woman. The improvements at Carton, in
-which she is so interested, have been a great success, and no wonder she
-longs to go there and see how “her spotted cows” look on the new lawn
-from which the Earl has cleared some hedges since she was there last.
-Did she ever tell her friend of her passion for spotted cows? She
-believes not: “You have no notion what a delightful beautiful collection
-of them I have got in a very short time, which indeed is owing to my
-dear Lord Kildare, who ever since I took this fancy into my head has
-bought me every pretty cow he saw. It’s really charming to see them
-grazing on the lawn.”
-
-So, with her children, the part she took in her husband’s plans for the
-improvement of his estate, and his tenantry, her social duties, her
-frequent visits to England, the years of the Countess’s married life
-passed swiftly and happily. Mrs. Delany meets her occasionally in Dublin
-society, but one gets the impression that Lady Kildare keeps the Dean of
-Down’s lady at some little distance, and that may account for the rather
-bitter tone in which the latter speaks of the Countess. The Dowager
-Countess was a great friend of Mrs. Delany’s, by whom she was frequently
-visited in London, and whom she visited at Delville. But it is
-significant enough that the mistress of Delville, having invited to
-breakfast Mrs. Vesey and Lady Kildare, “Lord Kildare would not let his
-lady venture so far.” On another occasion Mrs. Delany went with Mrs.
-Vesey and their friend Letitia Basle to visit Carton, and call on Lady
-Kildare and Lady Caroline Fox. But they found nobody but the Dowager “at
-home,” and were not even invited to dinner. These experiences are
-probably at the bottom of Mrs. Delany’s evident acrimony against the
-Countess. Writing to her sister, Mrs. Dewes about Rousseau, who, during
-a sojourn of his in England, was the guest of their brother, Bernard
-Grenville, Mrs. Delany warns her of the danger he may be “to young and
-unstable minds ... as under the guise of pomp and virtue he does advance
-very erroneous and unorthodox sentiments. It is not the _bon ton_ who
-say this, but I am too near _the day of trial_ to disturb my mind with
-fashionable whims. Lady Kildare said she would ‘offer Rousseau an
-elegant retreat, if he would educate her children.’ I own I differ
-widely with her ladyship, and would rather commit that charge to a
-downright honest person. I mean as far as religious principles; but
-perhaps that was a part that did not enter into her schemes at all.”
-When the Duchess, as she then was, startled her friends by her second
-marriage to Mr. Ogilvie, Mrs. Delany’s observations on the event were in
-the worst possible taste. After a little tilt at her as “one of the
-proudest and most expensive women in the world,” this typical Mrs. John
-Bull, with all the unctuous priggishness and fondness for innuendo of
-her class, quotes a horrid jest of Lady Brown’s, and proceeds to bestow
-her quite uncalled-for pity on the Duchess’s “poor children.” It is easy
-to suppose that our charming and clever Lady Kildare found herself bored
-to death with Mrs. Delany, and her hideous shell-work, and the other
-atrocities on which she lavished her time (with the profound conviction
-that she was setting an example for all womanhood), and that she
-committed the unforgivable offence of avoiding her as much as she could.
-
-At the Coronation of King George III, in September, 1761, our Countess,
-then the mother of ten children, walked in the procession of the
-peeresses and, according to Horace Walpole’s account of the proceedings
-to Hon. H. S. Conway, was with her sister-in-law, the Duchess of
-Richmond, and Lady Pembroke, “the chief beauties.” To the Countess of
-Ailesbury he compares this trio to “the Graces.” To George Montagu he
-speaks of “Lady Kildare, still beauty itself, if not a little too
-large.” It is clear that her Ladyship’s beauty was not the transient
-thing which passed with the passing of youth. She was forty-eight when
-Sir Joshua Reynolds painted the portrait of her, which is still in
-Kilkee Castle. “What a beautiful head!” cried Edmund Burke in a rapture
-of admiration, when he saw the portrait in his friend’s studio. “Sir
-Joshua with much feeling replied: ‘It does not please me yet; there is a
-sweetness of expression in the original which I have not been able to
-give to the portrait, and therefore cannot think it finished.’”
-
-In 1766 the Earl, who had been made to suffer as much as the
-administration dared for the bold stand he had taken in Irish politics,
-received at last the “_pinchbeck dukedom_” which had been promised him
-nearly twenty years ago. Government was as kind to him now, as it had
-been averse to him before; and lucrative offices were offered him in
-quick succession. But death took him from the midst of his splendour,
-and one November day in the year 1773 he was carried from the beautiful
-home he had built for himself in Leinster House to the family vault in
-Christ Church, where his ashes await the resurrection.
-
-The Duchess, after a short widowhood, married, to the consternation of
-most of her friends, and the scandal of the Mrs. Delanys, her sons’
-Scotch tutor, Mr. Ogilvie. The marriage, contrary to expectation, turned
-out extremely well. Under a rather dry and unattractive exterior Mr.
-Ogilvie had a kind heart, and was most devoted to his step-children,
-who, on their side (and this is true of Lord Edward in a special
-degree), were very fond of him. Lady Sarah Bunbury,[26] writing from her
-brother-in-law, Mr. Connolly’s place at Castletown, to her friend, Lady
-Susan O’Brien, shortly after the marriage took place, hints that the
-Duchess had been forced to the step she had taken, by “the impertinence”
-of her daughter, Lady Emily, who had recently married the dissipated
-Earl of Bellamont, to her mother’s intense displeasure. It further
-appears, she told her son (William, Duke of Leinster), her
-mother-in-law, and her sister (Lady Louise Connolly) that she thought it
-very possible she should marry Mr. Ogilvie. They all agreed in the same
-thing for answer, that they could not _wish it_, but if she was happy it
-was all they wished; and that she could not choose a person she had a
-better opinion of and had more regard for. With such a sanction, you
-would perhaps think there was nothing for her to do, but to inform her
-brother (the Duke of Richmond) of her marriage _tout simplement_, but I
-wish you had seen the affectionate, the reasonable manner in which she
-wrote to my brother, and indeed to all her friends. One of her
-expressions to him is, ‘I am content that you should call me a fool, and
-an _old fool_, that you should blame me, and say you did not think me
-capable of such a folly; talk me over, say what you please, but remember
-that all I ask of you is your affection and tenderness.’ My brother says
-there is no resisting her owning herself in the wrong, and begging so
-hard to be loved, so you see the good effect of meekness; I assure you
-my sister _gains_ friends instead of losing any by her manner.
-
-Footnote 26:
-
- Letter of July 29th, 1775, “Letters,” I., pp. 240-241.
-
-After her second marriage the Duchess and her husband, Mr. Ogilvie,
-taking the younger children with them, went to live in France, where her
-grace’s brother, the Duke of Richmond, had put his house at Aubigny at
-their service. Here the two little Ogilvie girls were born, Cecilia and
-Emily, and were made heartily welcome to the family circle by their
-kind-hearted half-brothers and sisters, the Fitzgeralds. In the meantime
-these boys and girls were going on with their studies under Mr.
-Ogilvie’s direction, and the successful careers of Lord Charles and Lord
-Gerald in the navy, Lord Edward in the army, Lord Henry in politics, and
-Lord Robert in diplomacy were largely due to the skill and prudence with
-which Mr. Ogilvie directed their preparatory studies.
-
-In 1780 the family returned to Ireland, and the Duchess saw her brood of
-boys scatter for their first flight. For the next six or seven years
-she, with her girls, divided her time between Ireland and England. But
-from 1785 to 1787 she was settled in Dublin with Lord Edward, back for a
-portion of the time, under her wing, and her girls going out a good deal
-under the chaperonage of the young Duchess of Leinster, and their aunt,
-Lady Louisa Connolly. In the summer of 1787 we learn from Lady Sarah
-Napier that the Duchess was in Barège for the sake of Lady Lucy’s
-health, and she was looking forward to the pleasure of being joined by
-three of her sons, when news of Lord Gerald’s death at sea reached her.
-From 1788 the Duchess took up her permanent abode in London, probably
-with the idea of getting her daughters suitably settled. As regards Lady
-Charlotte these expectations were fulfilled the following year when she
-married Mr. Strutt.
-
-In 1788 and 1789 Lord Edward was in Canada and his letters to his mother
-describing his adventures, “deep in Canadian woods” and on the banks of
-Canadian lakes and rivers, were looked forward to with great eagerness
-by the Duchess, and passed from hand to hand among the family circle,
-even finding their way from London to Castletown, for Lady Louisa
-Connolly’s and Lady Sarah Napier’s delectation. “He writes,” the latter
-informs her friend, “the most natural and pretty account of his journey
-you ever read, comments on the spirit of the chase, the melancholy end
-of it, the inferior passions of hunger driving away pity, his low
-spirits when he thinks of all his friends, and ends: ‘My dear mother, I
-fear we are all beasts and love ourselves best.’” Lord Edward was a
-special favourite of his aunt, Lady Sarah, and nothing that befel “this
-dear spirited boy” left her cold. One of the most delightful spectacles
-in the world was to see how he brought his love-troubles to her and to
-“his dearest mother” with the full certainty of their sympathy and help,
-and understanding.
-
-He had been for some time deeply in love with his cousin, Georgina,
-daughter of Lord George Lennox, but the young lady’s father would not
-consent to the match and married the girl to Henry Bathurst, Lord
-Apsley. By an unfortunate chance Lord Edward, arriving in England,
-unexpectedly from Canada, drove up to his mother’s house in Harley
-Street at the very moment she was giving a dinner-party in honour of the
-bridal pair.
-
-Disappointed in love, Lord Edward threw himself eagerly into politics,
-and devoted his time to his duties in the Irish Parliament. On the
-outbreak of the French Revolution he hurried to Paris, and in the
-enthusiasm with which he adopted revolutionary principles, he took the
-extreme step of “renouncing” his title, and in consequence of this he
-was dismissed from the English army.
-
-In December, 1792, Lord Edward married Pamela, who was generally
-believed to be the daughter of the Duke of Orleans and Madame de Genlis.
-The marriage cannot have been much to the liking of the Duchess. But,
-like the wise woman she was, she offered no opposition to her son’s
-choice, once she saw his heart was set on it, and when he came to her a
-few weeks later to present his bride to her, she opened wide her heart
-and arms to “the dear, little, pale, pretty wife.”
-
- * * * * *
-
-During the five years that followed, Lord Edward and Pamela kept in the
-closest possible touch with the Duchess through a constant
-correspondence and frequent visits. But it was only one portion of his
-existence which her son revealed to his loving mother. There is no hint
-of politics, of the stern business which was to be wound up in the
-bloody liquidation of “’Ninety-Eight,” in the letters which “Eddy”
-writes in the open bay window of the little book-room in Frescati, with
-the birds pouring out their song and the perfumed garden its fragrance
-all around him. It is of her flowers and shrubs he tells the Duchess, “I
-believe there never was a person who understood planting and making a
-place as you do. The more one sees of Carton and this place [Frescati]
-the more one admires them; the mixture of plants and the succession of
-them are so well arranged.” He gladdens her heart with a description of
-Frescati and the shrubs she had planted, in all their June loveliness.
-“All the shrubs are out, lilac, laburnum, syringa, spring roses, and
-lily of the valley”—in short the whole is heavenly. He seeks her
-approval for his own gardening plans and labours: he has had the little
-green full mowed and rolled, the little mound of earth that is round the
-bays and myrtle before the house planted with tufts of gentianellas and
-primroses, and lily of the valley, and they look beautiful, peeping out
-of the dark evergreen; close to the root of the great elm he has put a
-patch of lily of the valley. A fine February morning finds him “digging
-round roots of trees, raking ground and planting laurels,” and planning
-to have hyacinths, jonquils, pinks, cloves, narcissi in little beds
-before the house and in the rosery. If his mother will trust him to
-prune the trees, in the long round, he thinks he can do it prudently.
-
-Later on he tries very hard to make his mother see the home he has made
-for his wife in Kildare—the little white house with bay windows, all
-covered with climbing roses and honeysuckle—the “dear wife” herself in
-her little American jacket planting sweet peas and mignonette—her
-work-box with the little one’s caps on the table in the open window.
-
-The expected “little one,” “the little young plant that was coming,”
-filling its young father with proud joy, arrived in October, 1794, in
-the shape of another little Eddy, and the Duchess was very glad to
-accede to her big Eddy’s request, and to be its godmother. The little
-Eddy was subsequently left with his grandmother for good, after his
-parents’ visit to Hamburg in 1796, which was to have such momentous
-political consequences. Little did the poor Duchess know for what his
-father was preparing when “the precious Babe” was left with her! She is
-full of gratitude for the gift, and full of appreciation of the
-sacrifice the “dear Edwards” have made in parting with it—they “who
-adore it and delight in its pretty ways.” We get charming glimpses of
-the Duchess and the pretty boy in some letters to Lady Lucy. Now he is
-at play among the sheep on the green hill beneath her window; now at her
-elbow while she is writing, and full of messages for her to give to Papa
-and Mamma. “Eddy, dood boy, Eddy, happy boy. Papa ride horseback, Mama
-dance.” which shows, the Duchess remarks, “that he remembers them.”
-Again, the Duchess is showing him a lock of Papa’s hair which Lady Lucy
-has sent her mother, and Eddy is kissing it a thousand times: “Papa’s
-hair, Eddy’s own Papa’s hair!” She loves to gather up his comical
-remarks. “I told him something he was eating was _enough_ and that more
-was _too much_. ‘But Eddy don’t like _enough_, Eddy like _too much_.’”
-
-In October, 1797, Lord Edward saw his mother for the last time. After
-that, events moved with tragical swiftness to the catastrophe of May
-19th, 1798.
-
-It was ten days after Lord Edward had got his fatal wound in the
-altercation with Major Ryan that his mother was told of his condition.
-As soon as the news was broken to her, she declared that she must go to
-her boy at once. They kept her in London, persuading her that it was
-there she might serve his cause, seeing great people, using all the
-influence she could command to have his trial put off. Only poor Lucy,
-more closely in sympathy with Lord Edward than any of the others, feels
-how useless all this is. “All that human foresight could point out they
-are doing, but alas! Edward is dying and alone!”
-
-It was only on June 6—when Lord Edward had been two days dead—that the
-Duchess, Mr. Ogilvie, Lady Sophia, Lady Lucy, and “Mimi” Ogilvie set out
-at length for Ireland. They were met on the road by the messenger
-bearing the fatal news.
-
- * * * * *
-
-Lord Edward’s daughter, Pamela, shall tell us the end of the story: “The
-Fourth of June, when the guns fired for the King’s birthday, was always
-a dark day in the house; poor Grandmamma appeared in deeper mourning,
-and somehow there was a sort of stillness; we spoke with bated breath,
-and went softly ... it was the anniversary of my father’s death.
-Grandmamma wore his coloured handkerchief next her heart, and it was put
-into the coffin with her.”
-
-
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
-
-
-
-
- The Mother of the Sheareses
-
- JANE ANNE SHEARES, _née_ BETTESWORTH (-1803)[27]
-
- “Come to me, O Christ,
- Take swiftly my soul
- Alike with my sons.”
- —_Lament of Mothers of Bethlehem._
-
-Footnote 27:
-
- _Authorities_: Madden’s “United Irishmen,” Fourth Series, Second
- Edition.
-
-
-ON Saturday, May 19th, 1798, Lord Edward, desperately wounded in the
-gallant fight he had put up—one man against the multitude of his
-assailants—was taken prisoner and lodged in Newgate. Wounded and alone
-he lay in his gloomy cell, and on his hard prison bed through the long
-hours of the hot May Sunday that followed, and none of those who loved
-him was near at hand to bring healing to his fevered body, or comfort to
-his tortured heart.
-
-On that same May Sabbath, when, from every open space that the
-retreating country had left behind her, in her flight before the city’s
-advance, there came the smell of the lilac and hawthorn, the honeyed
-fragrance of lime trees and chestnut blossoms—“all the sweetness of the
-May”—a different scene was taking place in another part of the city. In
-a handsome house at the corner of Baggot Street and Pembroke Street, a
-dinner-party was in progress. The _cuisine_ was irreproachable, the wine
-excellent, the conversation of a high order. The master of the house, a
-tall finely-built man of about forty-five, with something of the soldier
-in his bearing, sat at one end of the table. His countenance, usually
-somewhat stern and forbidding, owing to the haughty glance of his dark
-eyes, and the curious blood-red birth-mark which stained the lower part
-of his face, was softened now into geniality as his eyes swept the
-little circle of relatives and guests gathered around his hospitable
-board. His brother, a man of about thirty-two, of a singularly open and
-pleasing countenance, blue-eyed, clear-complexioned, with well-formed
-features and a clever mobile mouth, that showed, as the frequent smile
-parted it, a row of perfect teeth—sat opposite. An old lady—their
-mother—very stately and handsome in her rich dark dress and priceless
-lace, sat near her eldest son. Beside her was that son’s beautiful wife.
-On the opposite side of the table was the host’s sister, and beside her
-his daughter by an earlier marriage. By the side of the younger brother
-sat a tall man in the uniform of a Captain in the King’s County Militia.
-
-Presently, dinner being ended, the ladies left the men of the party to
-their wine, and retired to the drawing-room. A knock at the front door,
-followed by the _frou-frou_ of silks and the murmur of feminine voices
-in the hall, announced the advent of after-dinner visitors. At the
-proposal of the younger brother of the host, the political discussion
-which the three men had inaugurated over their port was postponed, and a
-dish of tea with the ladies in the drawing-room was suggested. The dark
-eyes of the master of the house were full of merriment, while he
-explained to the guest what the magnet was that drew John from his
-politics. As the voices floated past them in the hall there had been
-clearly discernible the silvery tones of their beautiful neighbour, Miss
-Maria Steele. “You should hear some of the poetry he addresses to his
-Stella, Captain Armstrong!” said the host in laughing tones.
-
-Captain Armstrong! Captain Warneford Armstrong! We know now, with that
-name ringing in our ears, that darker than the tragedy of Lord Edward,
-lying wounded to death in his prison cell at Newgate, is the tragedy
-that is being enacted before our eyes in this pleasant hospitable house.
-In this handsome dining-room, around the gleaming mahogany with its
-genial burden of fruit and wine, there sit—the informer, Captain John
-Warneford Armstrong, and his victims, Henry and John Sheares! And
-presently, if we have the courage to face it, and will follow the three
-men in their passage to the ladies in the drawing-room, we shall see an
-even more harrowing spectacle. For in that charming eighteenth-century
-room, all full of May sweetness from the tall open windows, all full of
-lovely ladies and beautiful children in their picturesque
-eighteenth-century costume, we shall presently see the traitor gather
-the two little children of Henry Sheares upon his knee, while their
-mother tunes her harp, and sings in her glorious voice, some exquisite,
-moving strain for his delectation.[28] It is the picture which the
-genius of Curran has made immortal: “I am disposed to believe, shocking
-as it is,” he cried, while he turned to the Jury, in the dim light of
-the ghastly midnight court where the Sheareses stood, two months later,
-on trial for their lives, “that this witness had the heart, when he was
-surrounded by the little progeny of my client—when he was sitting in the
-mansion in which he was hospitably entertained—when he saw the old
-mother, supported by the piety of her son, and the children basking in
-the parental fondness of the father—that he saw the scene, and smiled at
-it—contemplated the havoc he was to make, consigning them to the storms
-of a miserable world, without having an anchorage in the kindness of a
-father. Can such horror exist, and not waken the rooted vengeance of an
-eternal God?”
-
-Footnote 28:
-
- The incident of Mrs. Henry Sheares singing to her harp for the
- entertainment of Armstrong was related to Madden by Miss Maria Steele,
- the friend of John Sheares. In Curran’s “Life,” written by his son, it
- is stated on the authority of a gentleman who had dined with the
- Sheareses, on the day in question that “he observed Armstrong, who was
- one of the guests, taking his entertainer’s little children upon his
- knee, and as it was then thought, affectionately caressing them.”
- Armstrong denied to Madden the truth of these statements, but his
- denials were not considered convincing.
-
- * * * * *
-
-The poor old lady, on whom the diabolical treachery of the guest of that
-Sunday dinner-party was to bring such suffering that the whole annals of
-“’Ninety-Eight” have nothing to surpass it, had already tasted in a
-fuller measure, than is the lot of common women, the joys and the
-sorrows of life. The near kinswoman of the distinguished lawyer,
-Sergeant Bettesworth, and a relation of the Earl of Shannon, she had
-been married, while still very young, to a wealthy Cork banker, Mr.
-Henry Sheares, son of Henry Sheares, Esq., M.P., of Goldenbush. At
-Goldenbush, by the pleasant Bandon river, the young couple resided for
-some time, and here a number of their children were born. But at a later
-date the family lived at Glasheen, about a mile and a half from Cork,
-and their abundant means allowed them to keep up another establishment
-in the city—a house which has been identified by Dr. Madden as situated
-at the corner of Moore Street and Nile Street.
-
-The young wife was highly accomplished, and it is rare to find a couple
-so perfectly matched, as were she and her husband, in every noble
-quality of heart and mind. She entered into his philanthropic schemes
-with the greatest zeal. Out of the abundance with which God had blessed
-them it was their joy to help all those in need. One of the spectacles
-which moved their compassion most keenly was that of decent poor people
-who, having fallen into debt, were by the barbarous law of the time,
-liable to be hauled off to prison for it, and to be herded with
-criminals, by whom they were too frequently contaminated. To help these
-unfortunates, whose only crime was poverty, Mr. Sheares instituted “the
-Society for the Relief of Persons Confined for Small Debts,” and in
-about nine months the secretary, Rev. Dr. Pigott, was able to report
-that “more than seventy poor wretches have been relieved by this
-institution from the depths of misery, and all the horrors of loathsome
-confinement—by which, at the same time, above 240 children (besides
-wives and other poor dependent relations) have had those restored to
-them from whose labour they derive their bread, and the community has
-been enriched by the replacing of many useful and industrious members.”
-
-We have already spoken of the culture which marked the merchant princes
-of Cork in the eighteenth century. Even in their cultured ranks Mr.
-Henry Sheares stood prominently forth. He was a clever writer, and his
-contributions over the pen-name “Agricola,” to the Cork periodicals of
-his day were keenly appreciated by their readers. It was held by some of
-them that “no moralist—not even Mr. Addison—excelled him in the
-composition” of the little moral essay, which was his favourite vehicle
-of instruction. Two of his essays, one “On Forgiveness,” the other “On
-Man in Society, and at His Final Separation from it,” are reproduced by
-Madden; and they show, beneath the somewhat stilted and formal style
-which was so much to the taste of their day—and so little to that of
-ours—a depth of religion, feeling, a noble philosophy of life which can
-never be out of date. He was the founder of a Club, somewhat in “the
-Spectator” style, “where popular and literary subjects were debated, and
-his speeches at this Club were long remembered by his friends as
-pleasing memorials of great historical knowledge, a fine taste and
-graceful elocution.” He sat as member of Parliament for the borough of
-Clonakilty—which was in the patronage of his wife’s kinsman, the Earl of
-Shannon—in the Irish House of Commons from 1761 to 1767; and the
-_Parliamentary Debates_ for these years show that he took an active part
-in the proceedings of the House.
-
-Mr. Sheares died in 1776, leaving his widow and family in very
-comfortable circumstances. Nine children are mentioned in his will:
-Henry, Robert Bettesworth, Richard, John, and Christopher Humphrey;
-Letitia, Mary, Jane Anne Bettesworth, and Julia. Of these it was their
-mother’s tragic fate to survive all but the youngest, Julia.
-
-The greatest pains had been taken with their education, and for their
-settlement. Of the four daughters, all were married except Julia: one to
-Mr. Gubbins, of Limerick, another to Mr. Henry Westropp, another to Dr.
-Payne of Upton. “The sons,” writes one who knew the family, “had the
-best masters to attend them in their father’s house, under their
-father’s eye; he narrowly inspected what company they kept, and at a
-proper age they were sent to the University, where, being young men of
-good natural parts, they acquired a considerable degree of reputation.”
-
-The high hopes that had been built on these boys were overturned, in the
-case of three of them, by very early deaths. One day Robert and John
-were out bathing together, when John got into difficulties, in saving
-him poor Robert was drowned. A little later, Christopher, who had chosen
-the army for his profession, went out to the West Indies, on John’s
-advice. A few months later there came to his loving mother in Ireland
-the news of his death by yellow fever. Richard, who had entered the
-navy, perished on the _Thunderer_, which went down, with all hands, off
-the West Indies, in the great hurricane of October, 1779.
-
-The eldest son, Henry, who inherited his father’s real and personal
-property, estimated at about £1,200 a year, was educated at Trinity
-College, Dublin, and first chose the army for his profession. In 1782,
-when he was scarcely twenty years of age, he eloped with Miss Swete, of
-Cork, whose father, Alderman Swete, was considered one of the wealthiest
-men in the City. Young Councillor Fitzgibbon (afterwards Lord Clare) had
-been among Miss Swete’s suitors, and it is said that he never forgave
-the man whom she preferred to him—and that thoughts of this early
-rivalry in love were at the bottom of the implacable hostility which
-drove Henry Sheares to his doom. Shortly after the marriage, Alderman
-Swete became bankrupt, and his daughter’s fortune having vanished with
-the rest of his assets, Henry Sheares was obliged to give up the army
-and take up the study of law. He was called to the Bar in 1790, his
-brother John, thirteen years younger than he (born 1766) having been
-called the preceding year. The brothers began practice together, taking
-up their residence in Dublin—at first in a house on Ormond Quay, and
-from 1796 in Baggot Street (now 128).
-
-A little after the move to Dublin the young wife of Henry Sheares died
-(December 11th, 1791) leaving her husband four little children. Three of
-the children were taken by the grandparents, the Swetes, and educated by
-them in France. The youngest child, Jane, appears to have been put in
-charge of Grandmother Sheares and Aunt Julia.
-
-In 1792 Henry Sheares, accompanied by his brother, John, went to France
-to visit his children. The stirring events which were taking place in
-Paris drew the brothers to the capital, and here they made the
-acquaintance of some of the most prominent men of the Revolution;
-notably Roland and Brissot. The influences under which they found
-themselves in this atmosphere were to give the most decisive direction
-to their political philosophy, and ultimately to seal their fate. The
-ardent spirit of John was irresistibly attracted to the new doctrines,
-and where John led, Henry, who loved him with a love surpassing the love
-of ordinary brothers, was fain to follow. Left to himself, poor Henry
-would have felt little call to republicanism; he liked dignified
-splendour; a fine house, a good table, a choice library. He loved
-society in which from his conversational powers, and his charming
-deferential way with women, he was a great favourite. He was a devoted
-family man—a loving son, and husband and father—and his happiest hours
-were spent in his own beautiful home in Baggot Street in the years which
-followed his second marriage with Miss Sarah Neville, a lady of good
-family in the County Kilkenny. In this home, with its rich furniture and
-fine library, he was soon joined by his mother and Julia and little
-Jane; and Sarah Sheares, who was a woman of character, as well as of
-accomplishments and charm, lived on the happiest footing with her
-people-in-law. John was also a permanent member of the household.
-
-Shortly after their return from France the brothers became members of
-the newly instituted Society of United Irishmen, which at that time, had
-perfectly “constitutional” objects: Catholic Emancipation and
-Parliamentary Reform. But in the eyes of the Lord Clares and others of
-the Ascendancy the advocating of the most moderate measures of reform
-was “treason.” During all the brothers’ professional career, the enmity
-of Lord Clare, which was first that of an unsuccessful rival in love of
-Henry’s, pursued them, and as they, in their turn, put no restraint on
-the language they used with regard to the Lord Chancellor, every day
-that passed fanned the flame.
-
-It was only after the arrest of the chief leaders of the United Irishmen
-on March 12th, 1798, that the Sheareses became prominent in the
-organisation. John Sheares was appointed to the Directory, and given
-special charge of operations in Cork. In April the brothers went circuit
-in the South-West, and were present at a memorable dinner-party in the
-house of Bagnal Harvey, Bargey Castle. Another guest was (unfortunately
-for the majority of those present) Sir Jonah Barrington. By some curious
-presentiment—which he took good care should be verified by immediately
-communicating with Mr. Secretary Cooke—he _knew_ that a tragic fate was
-reserved for most of the guests. An excellent prophet was Sir Jonah—of
-the same “authentic class” as Major Sirr[29]—every member of that jovial
-dinner-party (with the exception of himself, a certain barrister and Mr.
-Hatton) was executed within three months!
-
-Footnote 29:
-
- “There are two sorts of prophets—one that derives its source from real
- or fancied inspiration, yet are sometimes mistaken; the other class
- composed of persons who prophesy what they are determined to bring
- about themselves; of this second, and by far the most authentic class
- was Major Sirr.”—Curran’s “Speech in Hevey’s Trial.”
-
-With Sir Jonah Barrington and other “honourable” gentlemen of his class
-drawing up “for their own amusement,” lists of those among their fellow
-guests at friendly dinner parties “whom they considered likely to fall
-victims” to the coming disaster, and these lists finding themselves
-wafted by some marvellous agency from Wexford Bridge to the office of
-Mr. Secretary Cooke in Dublin Castle—it is not to be supposed that
-Government was in ignorance of the movements and designs of the
-Sheareses. They were carefully watched and “set,” but they were left at
-large for some time, according to Madden, “to allow the premature
-explosion of the rebellion to take place, for the same reason that Lord
-Edward was left at large after the arrests at Bond’s for several weeks,
-during which time Messrs. Hughes and Reynolds (the informers) visited
-him in his places of concealment, at Cormick’s in Thomas Street, and at
-Dr. Kennedy’s in Aungier Street.”
-
-At length the time was ripe for their destruction. Government had found
-the proper tool.
-
-On Thursday, May 10th, Captain John Warneford Armstrong took a little
-jaunt to town from his camp at Lehaunstown and called—as he was in the
-habit of doing—at Byrne’s, the bookseller’s, in Grafton Street. Though
-Captain Armstrong wore the king’s uniform, he was, if his conversation
-was any indication, by no means a fanatical adherent of a militarist and
-royalist government. He talked republicanism; and was a diligent reader
-of republican and deistical books, like Paine’s “Age of Reason” and
-“Common Sense.”
-
-During one of his many conversations with Byrne the names of the
-Sheareses cropped up, and Byrne, completely deceived by the Captain’s
-specious professions, proposed to make them known to each other. In the
-afternoon of May the 10th, Captain Armstrong was seated in Byrne’s shop
-when Henry Sheares came in, and Byrne immediately made the introduction.
-Henry, however, was unwilling to enter into any conversation with the
-Captain and shortly afterwards made an excuse to leave him.
-
-Presently entered John, with his head full of plans for the Rising,
-which was fixed for the 23rd of the month. One of his greatest objects
-was to gain over the soldiers, and when Captain Armstrong was made known
-to him by the unsuspecting Byrne “as a true brother on whom he might
-depend,” it is not to be wondered at, if John looked on this meeting as
-the direct answer to his ardent prayers. The Captain professed to be as
-eager as John to secure the soldiers for the good cause, and after some
-preliminary discussion it was arranged to meet at the brother’s house in
-Baggot Street the following Sunday.
-
-At eleven o’clock on Sunday, May 13th, Captain Armstrong saw the
-brothers as arranged; at this interview he got from them the names of
-some soldiers in his regiment who were known to be United Irishmen.
-
-On Wednesday, May 16th, Captain Armstrong called once more at the house
-of his victims but found neither of them at home. A second call about
-six o’clock in the evening was more fruitful. He was shown in to John in
-the library, and learned from him that he was on the eve of his
-departure for Cork to organise the Rising there, and that his friend,
-Surgeon Lawless, would take his place in Dublin and consult and advise
-with Armstrong as to the matters they had in hand. It would appear that
-poor Henry Sheares was on his guard against Armstrong for at this
-interview he did not appear.
-
-On the morning of the following day Armstrong was again in Baggot
-Street, and made the acquaintance of Surgeon Lawless, who according to
-the Captain, “informed him that he had lately attended a meeting of
-deputies from almost all the militia regiments in Ireland, at which
-meeting there were two of his (the Captain’s men).” At this interview
-Captain Armstrong found, what he had hitherto sought in vain, evidence
-to implicate Henry Sheares “in the knowledge of the military
-organisation” of the United men.
-
-After each interview with his victims Armstrong, according to his own
-evidence, “returned to the camp and communicated the business that
-passed to Colonel L’Estrange and Captain Clibborn.” Sometimes he
-communicated it to Lord Castlereagh and Mr. Cooke. It was Lord
-Castlereagh who persuaded him to go to the house of the Sheareses. “He
-would not,” he told Dr. Madden himself, “have gone there if he had not
-been thus urged to do so. It was wrong, he believed—indeed, he felt it
-was wrong to have gone there and to have dined with them. _It was the
-only part of the business he had any reason to regret._”
-
- * * * * *
-
-Early in the morning of Monday, May 21st, the day following the pleasant
-dinner-party at which Armstrong had been so hospitably entertained, the
-inhabitants of Baggot and Pembroke Streets, and the neighbouring
-Squares, were startled by seeing a party of military take possession of
-the front and rear entries to the house of Mr. Henry Sheares. A loud
-rapping at the door roused the inmates, and procured for the police
-magistrate in charge of the party, Alderman Alexander, and the Chief
-Constable, Mr. Atkinson, the entrance they demanded “in the king’s
-name.” Alexander made his way to the library, where he was presently
-joined by Mr. Henry Sheares. The master of the house was immediately
-made cognisant of the object of this early visit, and informed that his
-papers must be searched. Henry Sheares, who was perfectly easy in mind
-as to this, in the consciousness of having no treasonable papers in his
-possession, acquiesced without protest. The search was nearly ended,
-without anything incriminating having been found, when Henry Sheares
-directed the Alderman’s attention to a small writing box, belonging to
-his brother, which lay unlocked on the study table.
-
-In this box was found a scrawled production, all blots and erasures,
-which John Sheares, who had the dramatic temperament developed in the
-highest possible degree, had passed the time in writing, after the rest
-of the household had gone to bed the previous night. It was written in
-the character of one addressing the Irish people after a successful
-rising, and on its evidence, supported by the perjured “parole” of
-Armstrong, not only John Sheares who wrote it, but Henry, who was asleep
-when it was written, and as innocent of its contents as his little
-child, whom Armstrong had fondled the evening before, were launched into
-eternity.
-
-“Can such things be, and not awaken the vengeance of an eternal God?”
-
-What were the feelings of the poor ladies, old Mrs. Sheares and her
-daughters when all this was going on? Was their privacy respected while
-the house was being searched for John and more “incriminating”
-documents? Was Henry allowed to bid them farewell before he was marched
-off to the Castle, and to whisper to them that there was no need for
-anxiety? Did any dim foreboding warn them as they saw him leave the home
-he loved so well, and where they had all been so happy that _never,
-never more_ should he enter it again?
-
-Later in the same day John Sheares was arrested by Major Sirr at the
-home of Surgeon Lawless. Lawless, himself, having received timely
-warning from Surgeon General Stuart, had made his escape on the previous
-Saturday.
-
-The two brothers, after examination at the Castle, were committed to
-Kilmainham and here they lay in close confinement until they came up for
-trial on July the 4th. A postponement was secured until July the 12th.
-Then the trial was hurried on with the most indecent haste.
-
-The truth was that Lord Clare was in terror of his enemies escaping from
-his hands—for the most powerful influences were at work for their
-rescue, and the evidence against Henry Sheares was not sufficient, as
-the common phrase goes, “to hang a dog on.” Miss Maria Steele used her
-influence with her devoted admirer, Captain Horatio Cornwallis, nephew
-of the Lord Lieutenant, to secure the brothers’ pardon; and to his
-nephew’s pleading, supported by that of Julia Sheares, Lord Cornwallis,
-“anxious that his first act in Ireland should not be a sanguinary one,”
-was about to yield, when Lord Clare, who was present, intervened. All
-day long on July 13th, while the trial dragged its weary length through
-the hot and crowded court, Sarah Sheares, poor Henry’s wife, sat in a
-sedan-chair at Lord Clare’s hall door; when at length she saw him, she
-fell at his feet on the steps of his door, clasping his knees and
-begging her husband’s life from his hands. It was all in vain.
-
-And what of the mother all these dreadful weeks? They had not dared to
-tell her that Henry was in any danger. They told her that he had been
-advised to keep away, and would return when all was safe again. For
-John’s fate she was in some measure prepared, but she hoped, with all
-her mother’s heart, that it might be averted. A heart-breaking incident
-was related to Dr. Madden by a relation of the Sheareses:
-
-“The Earl of Shannon was a relation and intimate friend of old Mrs.
-Sheares, and the day of her sons’ execution, of which she was then
-ignorant, his lordship went to see her. A most melancholy scene, as may
-be supposed, occurred between them. She threw herself on her knees to
-implore his mediation for her younger son, at the time not knowing that
-her son Harry was implicated, or had been imprisoned, having been told
-that he had been advised to keep out of the way for some time, and was
-actually expecting him home that evening. The Earl left the house, not
-being able to tell her that they had _been both executed that morning_.”
-
-When poor heart-broken Julia, poor widowed “Sally” could bear no longer
-to hear her ask, “_When_ will Harry come back,” they burst into a storm
-of weeping and then the desolate mother knew that no son had been spared
-to her out of the calamity that had swept them all away. For a time they
-feared her reason would give way before the shock of that knowledge.
-
-Her two daughters—for Sarah’s devotion was not less ardent than that of
-Julia—took the poor old mother far away from the scene of her
-sufferings, and made a new home for her in Clifton, England. Here she
-passed the short and sad remainder of her days—grieving ever for those
-she had lost, having no joy but in the thought of death which would give
-them back to her once more. Some time in 1803, the same year which
-witnessed the death of her fellow mourner, Elizabeth Emmet, she passed
-through “the strait and narrow gate”—and stood with her beloved amid the
-multitude “clothed with white robes, and (having) palms in their hands,
-before the throne and in the sight of the Lamb.” For she and the sons,
-who welcomed her, had indeed “come out of great tribulation, and _had_
-washed their robes and made them white in the Blood of the Lamb.”
-
-
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
-
-
-
-
- The Mother of the Teelings
-
- MARY TEELING (_née_ TAAFFE—1753[?]-1830[?])[30]
-
- “He will not be seen on a swift young horse
- Clearing a road over fosse and fence,
- His comeliness is forever changed,
- On his majesty has fallen a mist.”
- —_Lament for Oliver Grace._
-
-Footnote 30:
-
- _Authorities_: “Memoir of Bartholomew Teeling,” by (his nephew)
- Bartholomew Teeling, Jun., B.L. in Madden’s “United Irishmen,” Third
- Series, Vol. I. (Dublin, 1846); Charles Hamilton Teeling’s “History of
- the Irish Rebellion of 1798,” “A Personal Narrative,” and Sequel to
- same; Unpublished Correspondence of the Teeling Family; “The
- Teelings,” by Albi Norman (article in _Gentleman’s Magazine_ for
- October, 1905).
-
-
-“I MUST now say a word or two of the excellent mother of Bartholomew
-Teeling—not so much because of the well-formed opinion that almost all
-distinguished men inherit their characteristics rather from the mother
-than from the father, as because I myself have the liveliest
-recollection of the amiable and endearing qualities of this venerated
-being; of her ardent piety; of her active benevolence; of her cheerful
-spirit; and her most graceful presence.
-
-“Whilst she was still a child, she had been seen by him who was to be
-her husband, and who, struck with her girlish beauty, had resolved ‘to
-wait for her.’ She, consequently, at the very earliest age, united her
-fate to his; and at the end of fifty years, during which they journeyed
-together through all the vicissitudes of life—
-
- “‘In all their wanderings round this world of care,
- In all their griefs, and they had had their share.’
-
-The romance of this early attachment continued fresh and unabated. The
-contrast, perhaps, of her bright and buoyant spirit with the stern and
-unbending one of the haughty politician ... was more calculated to give
-endurance to their love than the most perfect similarity could have
-done; and to the last hour of her existence, she was the pride and idol
-of her family.
-
-“It was matter of astonishment how she contrived, after the severe
-trials she had met with, to push the badge of grief away from her, in
-the society of those she loved, and to enter into the sports of her
-grandchildren, as mirthful as the youngest of them. She was proud of her
-high birth, and used to recount to her grandchildren the bright deeds of
-her ancestors—the loyal efforts of the noble commander of the Irish
-forces; of the unhappy Charles; and the heroic defence of her castle, by
-the Lady Cathleen, against the ruthless Cromwell and his adventurers.
-
-“But she scarcely ever touched upon the untimely fate of her own sons,
-slaughtered or scattered over the world. Once only did I hear her
-mention her gallant son, or allude to his dark fate, and then came a
-gush of anguish, which showed, indeed, the sources of her grief were far
-from being dried up, and, under a bright exterior, how much of
-heart-rending suffering she had put up within her bosom; but, as I have
-already said, she turned from her own woes to alleviate those of others,
-and to spread joy around.
-
-“By rich and poor, she was admired and she was loved. I have been told,
-by those whom I myself saw adorn the most brilliant circles of the
-metropolis of the empire, that in childhood they were taught to regard
-her as a model of grace and excellence; and I speak a fact, which will
-be testified by thousands, when I say, that in the hearts of all the
-poor of the neighbourhood, in which she resided, her memory remains
-enshrined, and that children born since her death have been taught to
-love it, and in their dear petitions to give her name a place.”[31]
-
-Footnote 31:
-
- Extract from “Memoir of Bartholomew Teeling,” by his nephew, and
- namesake, in Madden’s “United Irishmen,” Third Series, Vol. I. (First
- Edition, 1846).
-
-Is it true, as men say, that the woman by whose cradle the kind,
-gift-bearing fairies have laid that most rare and precious gift called
-“charm,” is immortally dowered? Mary Teeling was an old woman, and one
-who had drained to its dregs the cup of life’s bitterest sorrows—when
-(knowing it not) she sat for the portrait which her grandson has left us
-of her; and she had been many years in her grave, when it was finished
-and hung in its place in the gallery of portraits collected by Dr.
-Madden of the men and women who gave their all for Ireland in ’98. But
-from the canvas there comes forth, stealing into the heart of each of
-us, the same charm which, in her radiant girlhood, won the devotion of
-her stately young lover, and in her beautiful old age made captive his
-little grandson. Neither age had power to wither, nor death to destroy,
-the gift which was hers to draw all hearts under her sweet sway.
-
-We would fain know something of the training and education which,
-fostering her innate charm, made the mother of Bartholomew and Charles
-Teeling such an exquisite type of the Irish Catholic gentlewoman. “A
-nation is what its women make its men”; and if we want boys in the
-Ireland of the future like the gallant boy, who on his noble grey
-charger galloped alone against the cannon of Park’s Hill, and saved the
-fortunes of the day at Carricknagat, or like that other gallant boy, his
-younger brother, who rode forth—a lad of seventeen—on a yet more
-perilous quest: to slay unaided the dragon of Orangeism, we must take
-care to provide “mothers of men” like her who bore these young heroes.
-And not alone for the men they will make, will Ireland need such women.
-She will want them for their own dear selves; and she will want them,
-whatever be her destiny—whether she is to enter at last on the reward of
-her long sorrows, or whether she must tread the roadway of thorns yet a
-little longer. If the future of our land is to be one of peace and
-prosperity she will need in her homes women to “look well to the paths
-of their house,” as Mary Teeling did in the days of her prosperity amid
-the elegance and comforts of the home in Lisburn which her husband’s
-wealth had enabled him to provide for his family, exercising the sweet
-and lovely rule of the mistress of a Catholic home, training her
-children to the noblest ideals of life and conduct, directing her
-servants with gentle authority, practising a gracious hospitality,
-“opening her hands to the needy, and stretching out her hands to the
-poor.” And if, on the other hand, the whole price is not paid yet, and
-the era of persecution is to open again—ah! then it is that Ireland will
-need her Mary Teelings to stand by their husbands’ side while “they
-suffer persecution for justice’ sake,” as she did by Luke Teeling’s
-during the long years of his martyrdom; keeping in the midst of all
-misfortunes, loss of home and children, of wealth and ease, the same
-exquisite sweetness of nature and charm of manner which made her in
-happier days the delight of her friends, “the pride and idol of her
-family.”
-
- * * * * *
-
-It has seemed worth while to go to some pains to discover, if possible,
-the details of an education which “in the dead vast and middle” of the
-Penal night, produced a type of womanhood, presenting nothing less than
-the “fine flower” of Catholic culture. “Who shall find a valiant woman?”
-Have we not found her—with every exquisite trait of her immortal
-prototype reproduced—in this dear Irish lady, whose radiant personality,
-and high-bred grace, no less than her sweetness, and saintliness, and
-charity, survive, through her grandson’s portrait of her, even the
-destruction of the tomb? “Far and from the uttermost coast would be the
-price of her,” whatever land produced her. If it were France during the
-age when the education of girls was considered a subject of sufficient
-importance for the grave debates of a King’s Council Chamber, or a
-brilliant treatise from a learned and saintly prelate’s pen;[32] or
-Italy, in the days when wealthy and powerful princes like those of
-Mantua co-operated with great teachers and scholars like Vittorino da
-Feltre in the foundation of the schools, where the Cecilia Gonzagas won
-their culture; or Germany in the years when illustrious humanists like
-Celtes and Reuchlin were proud of the share they had taken in forming
-the minds of women like Caritas Pirckheimer—if it were any of these
-lands or these ages that claimed the “price of her” it would be a matter
-of small wonder. But let us try to realise that it was Ireland in the
-middle of the eighteenth century, when education was, for Catholics, a
-thing banned and barred by statute. In other countries little Catholic
-boys and girls were enticed to their books by every loving and ingenious
-device. Great statesmen, great churchmen, great scholars gave their best
-thought to the subject of their education. In the Ireland into which
-little Mary Taaffe was born about 1753, “statesmen” also _had_ given
-their thought to the subject of education for Catholic children—but the
-legislation which was the result amounted simply in Lecky’s famous
-phrase, to “universal, unqualified and unlimited proscription.”
-
-Footnote 32:
-
- Witness the interest of Louis XIV in Madame de Maintenon’s foundation
- of St. Cyr, and Fénélon’s treatise on “L’Education des Filles.”
-
-Nevertheless Catholic parents managed to get their children educated,
-and the nation which its lawgivers doomed to ignorance and degradation
-produced, by some miracle, scholars like Charles O’Connor of Belanagare
-and high-bred, charming women like her whose life-story we are now
-studying. How was it accomplished? What a stirring and splendid chapter
-the full answer to that question would add to the history of human
-endeavour! How one longs for the coming of the long-delayed historian of
-the Irish people who shall tell, in all its fullness, the story of how
-they educated their children during the Penal Days.
-
-For the boys we know in part how it was done. They were smuggled off to
-the Continent with other forbidden “cargoes,” and at the great colleges
-in Spain, and France and the Low Countries found “bourses” provided by
-the pious generosity of their wealthier countrymen, or were supported by
-remittances from home which no threatened penalty could prevent their
-devoted parents from sending.[33] Or a tutor was provided for them in
-some hunted bishop, perhaps, or friar, who found safety in the lowly
-disguise of a gardener or farm-servant working on their father’s
-place,[34] or who came there for a time, as one of the Bishops of
-Clogher is recorded to have made the rounds of his diocese, in the
-character of a wandering harper. Or they would get a course of lessons
-from some of the numerous scribes, who perambulated the country,
-stopping for a season at the houses of the gentry of the old race, and
-copying out manuscripts for them—Keating’s History of Ireland,[35] tales
-of the Red Branch and the Fenians, pseudo-historical accounts of the old
-families—as Sean MaGauran did for Brian Maguire.[36]
-
-Footnote 33:
-
- The statute dealing with their case runs thus: “In case any of his
- Majesty’s subjects of Ireland shall _go_ or send any person to any
- public or private Popish school, in parts beyond the seas, in order to
- be educated in the Popish religion, and there be trained in the Popish
- religion, or shall send money or other thing towards the maintenance
- of such person gone or sent, and trained as aforesaid, or as a charity
- for relief of a religious house, every person so going, sending or
- sent, shall, on conviction, be disabled to sue, in law or in equity,
- or to be guardian, executor, or administrator, or take a legacy or
- deed of gift, or bear any office, and shall forfeit goods and chattels
- for ever, and lands for life.”—7th William III, ch. 4, s.), 1694.
-
-Footnote 34:
-
- See “Religious Songs of Connacht,” _passim_.
-
-Footnote 35:
-
- It is instructive to note the dates of the MSS. of Keating in the
- British Museum. The larger number were written during the Penal Days.
-
-Footnote 36:
-
- See “Maguires of Fermanagh,” edited by Fr. Dinneen, p. 140.
-
-The girls in some instances shared the lessons of their brothers. Dr.
-Costello of Tuam tells me that his great-grandmother was taught Latin by
-a man working on her father’s farm—a disguised friar. The scribes put
-aside their copying for a time to form the little maidens’ hands to the
-delicate Italian script which was the admiration of the time. The
-wandering harper, who honoured their father’s house with a visit, could
-sometimes be induced to give the daughters of the family a course of
-lessons on his sweet instrument. Arthur O’Neill tells us of teaching the
-harp to two young ladies in Longford, Miss Farrell and Miss Plunkett.
-“Miss Farrell played handsomely; Miss Plunkett middling.”[37] Most of
-the old Catholic families had members settled abroad, and intercourse
-with the Continent was therefore so close and intimate that the outlook
-of the Irish at home was far less insular than it is at present.
-Occasionally uncles and cousins, who had won fame as soldiers in foreign
-services, came home to visit their people, and as they liked to have
-their nephews and nieces able to converse with them in French, or
-Spanish, or German, as the case might be, the little ones were
-stimulated to learn as much as they could in expectation of their
-kinsmen’s coming. Little Mary Ann McCracken had to learn her French from
-an old weaver, but little Mary Taaffe and her sisters had all around
-them priests, who had studied abroad, and were only too anxious to keep
-up their practice of foreign languages by speaking them with their
-little parishioners. And so when the Taaffe uncle who had fought at
-Fontenoy, or his son, who witnessed the dispersal of the Brigade, came
-home to Ireland, their fastidious ears were not tortured by the halting
-French or vile accents of their young kinswomen. In many a country
-house, as in that of the O’Connors of Belanagare, were living ladies,
-like Madame O’Rorke, Charles O’Connor’s grandmother, widows of
-distinguished Irish officers in the French, or Spanish or Imperial
-service, who had spent their youth in the most brilliant circle in
-Europe, had been the friends and _confidantes_ of Queens, and who now
-took delight in forming their little grandchildren and nieces to the
-exquisite manners and gracious bearing which, in their own case, had won
-the admiration of the most polished society on the Continent. In other
-houses were other ladies who under the secular garb which the
-necessities of the time imposed on them, carried out as well as they
-could, in their kinsmen’s homes, the religious rule of life to which
-they had bound themselves in their suppressed convents. When the
-convents were closed, and the nuns scattered, those who, instead of
-going abroad, found refuge with their relatives and friends, devoted
-themselves largely to the education of the little girls of the
-household. They trained them to their own exquisite skill in needlework,
-they taught them something of the art of healing, and above all they
-filled their minds with sweet and lovely images through their stories of
-the girl saints who had been their own unseen but constant companions in
-cell, and garden, and church; they turned them steadily to the imitation
-of the virtues by which the Elizabeths, the Cecilias, the Catherines,
-the Agneses had won their place as hand-maidens of the Heavenly Queen.
-
-Footnote 37:
-
- “Annals of Irish Harpers,” p. 179.
-
-There is no story more beautiful in our national annals than the
-story—yet untold in its completeness—of the Irish nuns during the ages
-of persecution. We see them avail themselves of the slightest lull in
-the storm to found their convents, and carry out the _Magnum Opus_ to
-which they had vowed their life. The days of the Confederation of
-Kilkenny saw the foundation of the Dominican Convent at Galway,[38] the
-days of James II saw its restoration, and the establishment of the
-Benedictines in Dublin. To such institutions the Catholic gentry sent
-their daughters to be educated, and we have only to turn to the pages of
-O’Heyne[39] to learn what manner of women these were who had the
-training of their young compatriots.
-
-Footnote 38:
-
- O’Heyne states that the convent was established at the end of the
- reign of James I. but it was only in 1644 that the church was built
- and a house arranged in conventural style. The foundation was
- confirmed by Rinuccini in 1647.
-
-Footnote 39:
-
- Admirably edited by Rev. Ambrose Coleman, O.P., who has contributed an
- Appendix full of the most valuable historical information (Dundalk,
- 1902).
-
-We see the heroic and saintly Prioress of the Dominican Nuns in Galway,
-Juliana Nolan, “a woman of heroic fortitude in bearing every kind of
-adversity, and very firm in observance and the gaining of virtues”; her
-successor, Mary Lynch, who taught school in Spain before her return to
-Galway, “a most religious woman and of great capacity for ruling and
-instructing”; and above all Mary O’Halloran, than whom, O’Heyne
-declares, he had never known a woman of stronger intellect. “She had a
-more accurate acquaintance with the Spanish tongue than the Spaniards
-themselves, and was well versed in sacred and profane history.”
-
-It was not alone the young girls of the “Tribes” or the chieftainly
-families of the West who were sent to the Convent in Galway to be
-trained by the women we have described. Even right across the country
-from Drogheda pupils came to them. One of these, Catherine Plunkett,
-daughter of Thomas Plunkett, of Drogheda, and a relation of the martyred
-Archbishop, Oliver Plunkett, passed from the school room, at an early
-age, to the novitiate and received her religious training under Mary
-Lynch. “She shared in all the vicissitudes of that Community, who were
-several times compelled by religious persecution to quit their convent.
-Some sought shelter in the homes of their relations or friends, whilst
-not a few experienced the utmost vigours of poverty. Father Hugh
-O’Callaghan, who was Prior Provincial of the Dominicans from 1709 to
-1718, having during the course of his Visitation, found the Sisters in
-this lamentable condition, and without any hope of their being permitted
-to return to their Convent, obtained for them from the Archbishop of
-Dublin, Most Rev. Dr. Edmund Byrne, permission to settle in his diocese;
-accordingly in March, 1717, eight of them (of whom Catherine Plunkett
-was one) arrived in the Metropolis and took up their abode first in
-Fisher’s Lane, from which they soon afterwards removed to the ancient
-Benedictine Convent, Chancel Row (now North Brunswick Street).”[40]
-
-Footnote 40:
-
- Memoir of Mother M. Catherine Plunkett, compiled from the Archives of
- Sienna Convent, Drogheda, very kindly furnished me by Mother Prioress
- and Community.
-
-After a little time, Catherine Plunkett obtained the permission of her
-Superiors to go to Belgium, where she was received into the Convent of
-the English Dominican Sisters, called the _Spillikens_, from its
-proximity to a pin factory. Here she remained about three years until at
-the urgent request of the Primate Hugh MacMahon, she was recalled in
-1721, by the Provincial, Dr. Stephen MacEgan, to found a convent in her
-native town of Drogheda.
-
-It reads like a chapter of the _Fioretti_—the record of the early days
-of Catherine Plunkett’s foundation in Drogheda. The first home of the
-nuns was a little mud cabin on the Meath side of the Boyne. Long before
-day broke over the shining sands and thin line of Eastern sea, the
-Dominican Father who ministered to their spiritual wants, used to row
-himself over in a little boat to say Mass and give them holy Communion.
-Dressed in secular garb, with their real character known only to a few
-discreet friends, the ladies from Brussels obtained, without much
-difficulty, leave from the Protestant Primate to open a school, and the
-Drogheda merchants were very glad to send their daughters to them.
-Later, they moved to a house in Dyer Street, and opened a boarding
-school, and an establishment for lady boarders. All the _noblesse_ of
-the Pale, the Plunketts, the Bellews, the Balfes, the Dillons, the
-O’Reillys, the Drakes, the Fortescues, the Taaffes are represented among
-the first pupils—and it is not at all unlikely that our heroine, Mary
-Taaffe, received her education in this Dyer Street Convent, which
-welcomed so many of her kinswomen. The nuns of Sienna very kindly
-searched their old account books for her name, but unfortunately the
-books were missing for the years 1762 to 1765, which are the very years
-when we might expect to find her there—if we are right in assuming that
-she was born about 1753.[41]
-
-Footnote 41:
-
- The date has only been arrived at by inference. She was married in
- 1771, and we know from her grandson’s narrative that she was
- considered to have married early, say about eighteen. Her mother died
- in 1753, which set a posterior limit to her conjectured birth year.
-
-So while it is not improbable that Catherine Plunkett’s Convent in
-Drogheda had the credit of the education which produced so charming a
-result, we cannot attain any certainty in the matter. Nor do we know
-much about Mary Taaffe’s childhood. Her father, Mr. George Taaffe,
-representative of that branch of the Taaffes who held the Earldom of
-Carlingford under the Stuarts, lived in Ardee on the remnant of the
-ancestral estates which was all the family’s devotion to the “Lost
-Cause” of the Stuarts had left them, and within sight of the ancestral
-castle of Smarmore, which his son was to purchase back for the family.
-His young wife, Elizabeth Keappock, died in 1753 at the early age of
-thirty, leaving him with one son, John, and four daughters. Of these,
-one married Terence Kiernan; another, a member of the Scurly family, a
-third, Alice, James Lynch of Drogheda. John, the only son, was twice
-married, first to Anne Plunkett of Portmarnock, and after her death in
-1786 to Catherine Taaffe.
-
-The ease with which Mr. George Taaffe got his girls married (an ease
-which anxious parents of the present day might well envy) to young men
-who in respect of fortune and family were among the most eligible
-_partis_ in the Pale, suggests that the Taaffe girls were very
-attractive. Doubtless their father’s house, when his four charming
-daughters still graced it, was an extremely pleasant place; and it is
-not to be wondered at that the girls’ clever young kinsman, Mr. Luke
-Teeling, found himself often taking in Ardee[42] on his journeys between
-his father’s place near Balbriggan and the establishment of the linen
-merchant in Lisburn with whom he was serving his apprenticeship.
-
-Footnote 42:
-
- It would be quite in his way if we are justified in assuming that the
- route taken by Thomas Molyneux in 1707 was the ordinary one.
-
-As is so often the case with serious-minded young men, there was a
-strong, if hidden, vein of romance in Luke Teeling’s nature, and he soon
-discovered that he had lost his heart irrevocably, to his pretty cousin,
-Mary. She was young, hardly more than a child at the time, and her
-father was loth to part with his little maid so soon; but he recognised
-the sterling qualities of her suitor and gave his consent to an
-engagement, which terminated in the marriage of the young couple at
-Ardee on April 6th, 1771.
-
-There had been an old connection between the Taaffes and the Teelings,
-and we learn from Bartholomew Teeling’s Memoir of his uncle that Luke
-Teeling’s mother was of the house of Taaffe. After the record of the
-marriage of Luke and Mary (still kept at Smarmore Castle) the words are
-inserted, “obtenta dispensatione in consanguinitate.”
-
-Like the Taaffes, the Teelings had suffered much during the long wars
-which devastated Ireland in the seventeenth century, and of the broad
-acres which their forefathers had held in Meath for over five hundred
-years there remained after the “Third Breaking” of Aughrim, in the
-pathetic phrase of one of the family’s present-day representatives,
-little more than “the semi-circular arched vault in the churchyard of
-Rathkenny.” But even before Father Teeling, who came back from his
-College on the Continent about the beginning of the eighteenth century,
-to endure the life of suffering, and labour, and peril of a missionary
-priest in Ireland under the Penal Régime, was gathered to his fathers in
-that vault, the fortunes of the family were already in the ascent. In
-truth there was something in the Teelings which forced them to the front
-in whatever walk of life they might choose for themselves, whether as
-soldiers, like the old knightly Teelings of the Middle Ages, whose names
-survive in many an ancient deed of gift to religious houses; or
-churchmen, like Father Ignatius Teeling, S. J., or scholars like
-Theobald Teeling, the correspondent of Justus Lipsius, and that other
-Teeling, who has been described by Archbishop Peter Talbot as “_urbis et
-orbis miraculum_.”[43] And this something—call it personality, force of
-character, or what you will—was peculiarly evident in Bartholomew
-Teeling whom we find settled in the neighbourhood of Balbriggan about
-the middle of the eighteenth century.
-
-Footnote 43:
-
- These particulars concerning the Teeling family are taken from an
- excellent article in _The Gentleman’s Magazine_ (October, 1905), by a
- writer signing himself “Albi Norman.”
-
-It was in the days when Balbriggan, under the fostering care of its
-landlord, Baron Hamilton, of Hampton Hall,[44] was developing from a
-miserable little fishing hamlet into a prosperous trading town. With the
-assistance of a small grant from the Irish Parliament, the Baron built
-the pier, in the sixties of the eighteenth century, and thus fostered a
-lively carrying trade with Wales. Ships of two hundred tons could unload
-in the new harbour, and such craft crowded the quay, unloading cargoes
-of slates, coal and culm, as well as rock salt and bark, and carrying
-back corn and cattle. In 1780 the Baron established extensive cotton
-works here, for the promotion of which parliament granted the sum of
-£1,250, but this manufacture was subsequently almost abandoned for that
-of hosiery.[45] When Arthur Young visited Ireland in 1776, he spent a
-few days with the Baron, and we learn from him[46] much of the latter’s
-improvements; of the one hundred and fifty acres of mountain land he
-reclaimed; of the agricultural methods he adopted, and of their
-financial results; of the local fishing industry and how he worked it.
-It seems the Baron had boat-building works, and out of these came his
-fleet of “23 boats each carrying seven men, who were not paid wages, but
-divided the produce of the fishery. The vessel took one share, and the
-hands one each, which amounts on an average to 16s. a week. A boat costs
-from £130 to £200, fitted out ready for the fishery; they make their own
-nets.”
-
-Footnote 44:
-
- He was M.P. for Belfast, Solicitor General and Baron of the Exchequer
- (D’Alton’s “History of County Dublin,” p. 477).
-
-Footnote 45:
-
- D’Alton, _op. cit._, p. 468.
-
-Footnote 46:
-
- “Tour in Ireland,” Vol. I.
-
-With the agricultural experiments of the Baron, and his industrial and
-trading enterprises, Bartholomew Teeling was closely identified. He held
-the lands in Walshetown, Gardiner’s Hill, Kilbrickstown, etc., and some
-family documents, which I have been privileged to examine, have
-reference to business transactions with Baron Hamilton, which would seem
-to indicate that Bartholomew Teeling helped to finance the Baron’s
-schemes.
-
-At all events Bartholomew prospered, and when he died the provisions he
-was able to make for his sons and the education he gave them, show that
-he had accumulated a comfortable fortune. He was married twice, it would
-appear, his first wife being of the Taaffe family, and his second a Miss
-Grace. By these he had a numerous family of sons. In addition to Luke,
-the eldest son, we find mention in the family papers of Christopher, a
-well-known doctor in Dublin; James, who seems to have remained in his
-father’s place near Balbriggan and combined manufacturing and farming;
-Joseph, and Robert, afterwards merchants in Dublin; and Bartholomew.
-There was also a Patrick, but if he was one of these brothers, he must
-have died soon, as his name early falls out of the family record.
-
-Luke had been early apprenticed to the linen trade—and that fact in
-itself indicates that his father was a man of means. For in the
-endeavour to keep the trade “exclusive,” a high fee was charged, and a
-fairly long apprenticeship insisted on.
-
-After the repeal of the Edict of Nantes many French Protestant refugees
-settled in Ireland. Some of these were highly skilled in the linen
-manufacture and a settlement of them under Louis Crommelin in Lisburn, a
-town on the Marquis of Hertford’s estate, made that place a thriving
-centre of the industry. After Luke Teeling had completed his
-apprenticeship, he stayed on in Lisburn, got a lease from the Marquis of
-Hertford, and started a bleachyard of his own; and he was so successful,
-that Mr. George Taaffe needed to have no misgiving about the future when
-he gave his beloved daughter to him.
-
-The early years of the married life of Luke and Mary Teeling were years
-of unclouded happiness. A little Elizabeth, called perhaps after the
-mother Mary Teeling had never known, came to them the following year.
-She was followed by a goodly train of brothers and sisters: Bartholomew,
-George, Charles, Luke and John were the boys. The girls, in addition to
-Elizabeth, were Mary, Alice (called after Alice Taaffe who had married
-James Lynch, of Drogheda), and Millicent.
-
-Fortunate families, like fortunate nations, “have no history,” and there
-is little to record of Mary Teeling during the years when her boys and
-girls were growing up. In 1782 her husband acquired the lease of some
-building ground on Church Hill and built a residence for his family in
-keeping with his wealth and position; and a decade and a half of happy
-years passed swiftly under its dignified roof. The large family party
-which gathered permanently round the Teelings’ board was seldom without
-a reinforcement of guests: business correspondents like Mr. Sam Wall, of
-Worcester, or merchants from Dublin and Belfast, were sure of a hearty
-welcome there. Old Mr. George Taaffe loved to come from Ardee, and spend
-a month or two with his beloved grandchildren. Aunt “Ally” Lynch from
-Drogheda, and kind Uncle James were frequent visitors. The elder boys,
-Bartle and George and Charles, who were attending Mr. Saumarez
-Dubourdieu’s famous classical school in the town, had frequent
-permission to bring home their schoolfellows to dinner or supper, and
-Mrs. Teeling’s “parties” were voted the most delightful in Lisburn. As
-the boys grew older other guests were much in evidence—young officers
-from the camp at Blaris-Moor with whom the Teeling lads fenced, or went
-fishing or shooting, or rode to hounds, liked to be asked when the day’s
-sport was over to accompany them to the hospitable mansion on Church
-Hill, where a pleasant supper and a dance would wind up many a
-delightful evening. The Teelings were noted horsemen—an hereditary
-trait. The writer in _The Gentlemen’s Magazine_, having quoted the
-younger Bartholomew Teeling’s description of his father and uncles as
-“the best horsemen and the most accomplished swordsmen in the province,”
-tells us that the Teelings “were proverbial for their love of small,
-perfectly shaped, high-bred horses,” and refers to stories, still
-current in the County of Meath, of the incredibly short time in which
-they used to ride from their home to Dublin, on their beautiful little
-horses.
-
- “White with green facings their retainers did wear
- And the young cavaliers were beloved of the fair.”[47]
-
-Footnote 47:
-
- Luke Teeling was looked on as a remarkably good judge of a horse, and
- I find among the family papers not a few in which his friends seek his
- advice on that all important subject.
-
-The young men were born soldiers, and more than one effort was made by
-officers and others of the highest rank to induce them to enter the
-English army. The Marquis of Hertford, dining one day with Mr. Teeling,
-promised his influence to get Charles into the Guards, and pledged his
-powerful support towards his advancement. Luke Teeling replied that, as
-far as he was concerned, his son was free to accept the flattering
-offer—but to the surprise of the Marquis, it was declined by Charles
-himself.
-
-In truth, the boy, who though younger in years than Bartholomew or
-George, had ripened earlier than they, had turned his thoughts in a
-direction not very likely to end in a Commission in the English Army.
-While Bartle still dallied in the pleasant ways of youth, and George was
-away in Dublin,[48] Charles was thrown largely into his father’s
-company, and imbibed the political views which the circumstances of the
-time forced on a man of Mr. Teeling’s logical and just mind. Though it
-is not said in so many words, we gather that Bartle and his father did
-not quite understand each other. The younger Bartle tells us that his
-namesake “scarcely brooked the restraint which the stoical and somewhat
-severe principles of his father imposed upon him; but to his mother,
-whose idol he was, and to his sisters, he was warmly and tenderly
-attached. There was no youthful adventure too daring or even extravagant
-for him; but nothing which inflicted pain, or which trifled with human
-misery ever had his countenance.” He was fond of books, too, a diligent
-student of the Classics, and a devotee of Shakespeare and perhaps these
-tastes helped to keep him for a longer time than his brother a sojourner
-in those regions of the Ideal where the call of the Real resoundeth not.
-The day was to come, indeed, and speedily, too, when the cry of his
-suffering country was to ring as loudly in Bartle’s ear as it had long
-rung in that of Charles. And how he was to answer it all men know.
-
-Footnote 48:
-
- They were both apprenticed in the linen trade. Bartle with his father,
- and George with the MacDonnells in Dublin.
-
-In 1790 Mr. Teeling gave very active support to the parliamentary
-candidature of Hon. Robert Stewart—afterwards Lord Castlereagh—who stood
-in the Reform interest against the Downshire _clique_. Being a Catholic,
-Mr. Teeling had no vote himself, but he spared neither his money nor his
-personal exertions in favour of one who advocated so eloquently the
-causes dear to Mr. Teeling’s heart: Catholic Emancipation and
-Parliamentary Reform. The Teeling boys were enthusiastic admirers of the
-young candidate, who indeed had been the idol of every patriotic heart
-in the north since the day he rode—a lad of thirteen—at the head of a
-company of boy Volunteers in the Review in Belfast, and made men think
-of Cuchullin and the boy troop of Emain Macha, by the martial skill and
-daring of their exploits. We know from Charles’s own assurance that the
-tenderest ties bound him to his father: “He was to me,” he says, in one
-of the most moving passages of his narrative, “not only the affectionate
-parent, but also the companion and friend.” And doubtless, in the long
-rides which father and son delighted to take in each other’s company,
-Charles imbibed his father’s political opinions and learned to feel the
-wrongs which the Catholics of Ireland were suffering as intolerable.
-
-The Catholic Convention of 1792, in which Mr. Teeling took a leading
-part, was a turning point in the history of the family. We know from
-Tone’s account of the proceedings that Luke Teeling was _the_ man of the
-Convention. When the counsels of the more pusillanimous seemed likely to
-prevail, his commanding spirit and ability won the day for the bolder
-measures advocated by Tone, and it was due to him that there went forth
-from the great assembly a Petition to the King demanding (instead of the
-partial relief for Catholic disabilities to which the Sub-Committee that
-drew up the Petition had originally limited their request) Total
-Emancipation. “My instructions from my constituents,” said Mr. Luke
-Teeling in a speech which produced the most profound impression on his
-audience, “are to require nothing short of total emancipation; and it is
-not consistent with the dignity of this meeting and much less of the
-great body which it represents, to sanction by anything which could be
-construed into acquiescence on their part, one fragment of that unjust
-and abominable system, the penal code. It lies with the paternal wisdom
-of the Sovereign to ascertain what he thinks fit to be granted, but it
-is the duty of this meeting to put him fully and unequivocally in
-possession of the wants and wishes of his people.” The effect of Mr.
-Teeling’s attitude was to win to his views even the most cautious—not to
-say timid—members of the assembly, and his amendment was passed
-unanimously. We cannot help feeling, as we read Tone’s “Diary,” and
-follow the events subsequent to the return from London of the Delegate
-who had gone from the Convention with the Petition to the King, that if
-Mr. Teeling had been living in Dublin, instead of in distant Antrim,
-things would have taken a different course for the Catholic Cause, and
-the whole Cause of Ireland. His influence would have prevented the
-spirit of compromise which had such disastrous results.
-
-The years that followed the Catholic Convention were marked by a great
-increase in bigotry—fomented with nefarious designs by the Irish
-Government of the day. The new activities of the new men at the head of
-the Catholic movement—wealthy and progressive merchants, like John Keogh
-and E. Byrne; young professional men, fresh from Continental
-Universities, like Dr. MacNevin—were countered by increased activities
-on the part of the bigots. The Grand Juries sent in to Parliament
-Petitions against the Catholic claims, and when these fell flat owing to
-the clever pamphleteers like Tone and Emmet, other methods were resorted
-to. The chief was the fostering of party spirit, which was first
-evidenced in the enormous increase in sectarian associations. Against
-the aggressions of the “Peep o’ Day Boys” (who got their name from their
-custom of repairing at that hour to the houses of their Catholic
-neighbours, dragging them from their bed and otherwise maltreating them,
-while they searched their houses for arms) the Catholics, who not only
-had no protection from the law or the armed forces of the crown, but
-saw, on the contrary, both these mights used against them, formed
-themselves into an association called “Defenders.” In those quarters
-where the contending parties were nearly balanced, the peace was kept by
-their wholesome fear of each other, but where the Catholics were in the
-minority they were obliged to adopt a system of nightly patrols, each
-townland or parish furnishing its proportion of armed men. But this
-system was intolerably burdensome, and at length some of the young men
-decided that there was nothing for it but to meet their opponents in the
-open field, and have done with the matter there and then.
-
-News of this impending conflict came to the ears of young Charles
-Teeling, and although he was only a lad of seventeen at the time, he
-determined to try and prevent it. He was well aware, he tells us in his
-pamphlet on “The Battle of the Diamond,” that whether the Catholics won
-or lost in the fight the result would be equally disastrous for them; if
-they lost, they would be still more at the mercy of their savage
-opponents than before; if they won, Government, which was undisguisedly
-in favour of their enemies, would exact the severest penalties from
-them. He hoped that the influence which his family enjoyed both with the
-Catholics and the Protestants would make the opposing parties ready to
-listen to his proposals for peace between them. Without saying a word to
-anyone he set out therefore from Lisburn to the disturbed districts, but
-he had not gone far when he saw that the task was too serious and
-responsible for his seventeen years. He sent, therefore, to Belfast for
-Samuel Neilson, then editor of the _Northern Star_, who for many years
-had been the warm friend of his father in the causes of Reform and
-Catholic Emancipation.
-
-Before Neilson could reach him, the Battle of the Diamond had been
-fought and won by the Protestants, and the Catholics were, as he
-anticipated, in a worse condition than before.
-
-The “Peep o’ Day Boys,” on the very day of the Battle of the Diamond
-(September 21st, 1795) formed themselves into the famous association of
-“Orangemen,”[49] and these immediately set themselves to exterminate the
-Catholics. “They would no longer permit a Catholic to exist in the
-county.[50] They posted up on the cabins of these unfortunate victims
-this pithy notice, ‘To Hell or Connaught,’ and appointed a limited time
-in which the necessary removal of persons and property was to be made.
-If after the expiration of that period, the notice had not been complied
-with, the Orangemen assembled, destroyed the furniture, burned the
-habitations and forced the ruined families to fly elsewhere for
-shelter.... While these outrages were going on, the resident magistrates
-were not found to resist them, and in some instances were even more than
-inactive spectators.” Many fearful murders were committed on the
-unresisting Catholics, and it is estimated that seven thousand Catholics
-were either killed or driven from their homes by the Orangemen in the
-County Armagh alone. But the unhappy outcasts, even when they escaped
-with their lives, had no shelter to fly to. In most cases they could
-only wander on the mountains until either death relieved them, or they
-were arrested and imprisoned; while the younger men were sent without
-ceremony to one of the “tenders” then lying in various seaports, and
-thence transferred on board British men-of-war. During the years 1796
-and ’97 the Orange magistrates, aided by troops, established a reign of
-terror over the greater part of Leinster and portions of Ulster and
-Munster. They arrested and imprisoned, without any charge, multitudes of
-innocent persons, and many of these were only removed from prison to be
-sent to serve in the navy.
-
-Footnote 49:
-
- The first Orange lodge was formed on September 21, 1795, at the house
- of a man called Sloan, in the village of Loughgall, Co. Armagh.
-
-Footnote 50:
-
- James Hope says that in reality what the Orangemen aimed at was to get
- the farms of the Catholics who had recently, by their industry in the
- linen trade, acquired the means of renting desirable farms.
-
-Parliament—the famous Irish Parliament, Grattan’s Parliament, came to
-the rescue of the oppressed by passing the Insurrection Acts and the
-Indemnity Acts—the objects of which were to give the magistrates a free
-hand to commit the most illegal outrages against the people without fear
-of any unpleasant consequences for themselves. It is true that Grattan
-fought gallantly against these measures, and to his splendid speech in
-opposition to them we owe much of our information concerning the
-outrages perpetrated by the “banditti of persecution.”
-
-It was felt by the most far-seeing and patriotic of the Irishmen who
-deplored this appalling state of affairs that the one hope of the
-country lay in the system of the United Irishmen, which aimed at a real
-union of Irishmen of all denominations in the bonds of love and loyalty
-to their common country. In the North, especially, the urgency of this
-union of hearts was keenly felt, and hence we find the younger men of
-the advanced party like Henry Joy MacCracken and Lowry, working
-strenuously with Charles H. Teeling and his brother-in-law, John
-Magennis, to get “the Defenders” into the ranks of the United Irishmen.
-
-Government showed its appreciation of their labours by an unexpected
-_coup_. The most active protagonists of the policy were suddenly
-arrested on a charge of high treason and clapped into prison in Dublin.
-
- * * * * *
-
-On a delightful September morning of the year 1796, Mary Teeling stood
-on the doorstep of her beautiful home in Lisburn waving a farewell
-greeting to her husband and her son Charles ere they rode off together
-on one of those business expeditions—of which the extraordinary
-affection uniting this father and son always made a pleasure excursion.
-As she gazed on her stately husband, now in the pride of his years and
-his honourable prosperity, making a superbly gallant figure, as he
-always did on horseback, and saw how fine a pendant Charles’s dashing
-youth and fresh good looks, offered to his father’s, can we wonder if
-her heart swelled with wifely and maternal pride, and she turned to her
-home duties with a prayer of thankfulness to God for all the good things
-that were hers.
-
-Alas! Alas! Sorrows and crosses beyond all telling were to follow that
-radiant moment, and ere the day was over, the fair structure of her
-life’s peace was to be laid in ruins.
-
-Not very long afterwards she was startled by seeing the old groom who
-had ridden out with Luke and Charles return with Charles’s riderless
-horse. What dreadful thing had happened?
-
-It was not _the worst_ at all events. No fatal accident had taken her
-boy from her—but what really had happened it was difficult enough to
-make out from the servant’s narrative. She could hardly believe that
-Lord Castlereagh, an old friend of the Teeling family, who was under the
-most real obligations to Mr. Teeling for his help and support on many
-occasions, could really have her boy now under arrest in the house of
-his father-in-law, the Marquis of Hertford. Lord Castlereagh, according
-to the groom, had with his usual appearance of cordiality and friendship
-joined the master and Master Charles as they rode up the main street of
-the town, but when they came to the Marquis’s gates, Master Charles had
-been asked by his lordship to accompany him. As soon as he had entered
-the gates, these were closed and an armed guard had suddenly appeared.
-The master had demanded admission, and this, after a time, was granted.
-He was only allowed a few minutes with his son. Then he had come out,
-and leaving orders with the groom to lead home Master Charles’s horse,
-he had continued his journey alone.
-
-She was not left long in doubt of the truth of the old servant’s
-extraordinary tale. Very shortly afterwards she saw Lord Castlereagh
-himself enter her house, accompanied by a military guard. Her youngest
-son, John, a boy of fourteen, daring to demand by what authority the
-house was thus forcibly entered, saw a pistol presented at his breast,
-and himself compelled to accompany Castlereagh and his minions in their
-search through the house for treasonable (?) papers. “My brother,”
-Charles tells us in his “Narrative,” “conducted himself on this occasion
-with a firmness and composure that could hardly have been expected from
-a lad of his years.” It is regrettable that he does not mention the name
-of the sister “who evinced the most heroic courage; she was my junior,
-and, with the gentlest, possessed the noblest soul; she has been the
-solace of her family in all subsequent afflictions, and seemed to have
-been given as a blessing by Heaven, to counterpoise the ills they were
-doomed to suffer.” One guesses, however, from the deep affection
-entertained for her by Charles all through the after years, that this
-heroic sister was her mother’s namesake, Mary.
-
-As for the mother herself, she was “totally overpowered by the scene.
-She had just been informed of my arrest, and now saw our peaceful home
-in possession of a military force. Maternal affection created imaginary
-dangers, and in the most energetic language she prayed Lord Castlereagh
-to permit her to visit my prison, and to grant even a momentary
-interview with her son. This he had the good sense and firmness to
-decline, and in communicating the matter to me in the course of our
-evening’s conversation, I expressed my approval of his decision. But my
-mother felt otherwise; the afflicted state of her mind precluded that
-reflection which should have rendered her sensible of the propriety of
-Lord Castlereagh’s refusal. Agitated and disappointed, her gentle but
-lofty spirit was roused, and burying maternal grief in the indignant
-feeling of her soul, ‘I was wrong,’ she exclaimed, ‘to appeal to a heart
-that never felt the tie of parental affection—your Lordship _is not a
-father_.’ She pronounced these words with a tone and an emphasis so
-feeling and so powerful, that even the mind of Castlereagh was not
-insensible to its force, and he immediately retired with his guard.”
-That night, Charles and the other prisoners, arrested on the same day in
-Belfast, (including Neilson and Russell) were taken in coaches, under an
-armed escort, to Dublin, and thrown into prison, where he remained for
-about two years, without trial, until the breakdown of his health
-procured his release.
-
-In the meantime all sorts of misfortunes had befallen the happy
-household on Church Hill. Some months after the arrest of Charles, the
-Orangemen, in broad daylight, had entered Mr. Teeling’s premises,
-wrecked his bleach-yard, looted his house, and in the course of a few
-hours’ deliberate devastation left the entire establishment “a desolate
-ruin.” And all this, as Charles points out in his narrative, “in the
-blush of open day, within the immediate vicinity of two garrisoned
-towns, an active magistrate, and an armed police.” It is quite clear
-that the Orangemen were the agents of vengeance of the Government, who
-thus designed to punish Mr. Teeling’s temerity in acting as Secretary of
-a meeting of the Freeholders of Co. Antrim, convened by public notice at
-Ballymena on May 8th, 1797, from which had gone forth a Petition to the
-King setting forth the intolerable grievances under which the Irish
-people were suffering, and praying his Majesty to dismiss the ministers
-responsible for them.
-
-As their lives were no longer safe in Lisburn, Mr. Teeling moved his
-family to Union Lodge, near Dundalk, which had been previously used by
-Bartle as his headquarters, But even here they were not safe. He got
-private notice from a well-wisher that he was about to be arrested. He,
-therefore, found an asylum for Mrs. Teeling and the girls with her
-brother, Mr. John Taaffe, at Smarmore Castle, Ardee, while he looked
-around him to make fresh provision for them.
-
-It is not very clear at what date Bartle began to identify himself with
-the United Irishmen; but it seems to have been about the same time as
-Lord Edward Fitzgerald and Arthur O’Connor joined them, that is to say
-early in 1796. He became the fast friend of Lord Edward, and before
-Charles’s arrest on September 16th, 1796, the two brothers were frequent
-guests at Kildare Lodge. It was here that Bartle met and loved the fair
-Lady Lucy Fitzgerald, Lord Edward’s favourite sister, and who shall say
-that he loved Ireland the less, because his vision of Kathleen Ni
-Houlihan borrowed the lovely ardent face, and the bright eyes, veiled
-with long dark drooping lashes of “Lucia.” While Lord Edward and
-O’Connor were on the Continent negotiating with the French Government,
-Bartle Teeling, under a plausible plea of a business journey, made a
-complete tour of Ireland on foot. His object, according to his nephew,
-was to make himself “perfectly acquainted with Ireland’s resources, with
-her capabilities of entering upon, and maintaining an internal war, with
-the intellectual and physical qualities, the habits and the manners of
-her people, with their wants and their endurance, their hopes and their
-resolves; as well as with the natural features of the country—her
-rivers, her coasts, and her harbours.” The fact shows that Bartle
-Teeling, for all his youth, was amongst the most far-sighted of the
-leaders.
-
-After his return from this journey he took up his residence in Union
-Lodge, with his friend, John Byrne, of Worcester, who having served his
-apprenticeship to the linen trade in Lisburn had established extensive
-bleaching mills on the banks of the river at Dundalk.
-
-It is from the evidence of the informers, John Hughes and Samuel Turner,
-that we gather our scanty information as to Bartle’s activities about
-this period. Hughes, a Belfast bookseller, arrested in October, 1797,
-turned king’s evidence in order to secure liberation. Being brought
-before the Lords’ Committee in 1798, he stated amongst other things,
-that in November, 1796, he had been sent by Bartle Teeling (then settled
-as a linen merchant in Dundalk) to Dublin to extend the United Irishmen
-societies there. Hughes seems to have been a sort of organiser for the
-Society, for again in June, 1797, he was sent for to come to Dublin.
-Before he left the north, John Magennis (Betty Teeling’s husband)
-administered an oath to him that he would not communicate the names of
-those to whom he should be introduced. In Dublin he was present at a
-breakfast given by Bartle Teeling, at his lodgings in Aungier Street,
-where the other guests were John Magennis, Anthony MacCann, of Dundalk;
-Samuel Turner; Messrs. John and Patrick Byrne, of Dundalk; Colonel James
-Plunkett; A. Lowry; Mr. Cumming, of Galway; and Dr. MacNevin. The object
-of the conference was to discuss the fitness of the country for an
-immediate rising. Teeling, Lowry and MacCann were in favour of an
-immediate effort; the others were afraid the people were not
-sufficiently prepared for it.
-
-Shortly afterwards, before the month of June was up, Bartle Teeling,
-Turner, MacCann, Tennant, Lowry, etc., seeing the “Rising” postponed,
-fled to Hamburg; and some of the others, including John Magennis, found
-refuge in Scotland.
-
-Bartle Teeling must have remained in Hamburg a very short time, for his
-brother states that he joined the French army under the name of
-Biron[51] and served a campaign under Hoche, whose death occurred on
-September 8th of that year. He may have returned to Hamburg after the
-death of Hoche, for in October of 1797 Turner reports to his friend,
-Lord Downshire, a letter Teeling was sending from that place to Arthur
-O’Connor. In November, Turner’s information shows Bartle in Paris. At a
-date of the same year which it is difficult to determine, he paid a
-stolen visit to Ireland, bearing messages from the Irish leaders on the
-Continent to those at home. It is said that on this occasion Lady Lucy
-gave him the ring which is still treasured in the Teeling family—and
-which he wore until the eve of his execution, when he sent it to his
-brother “as the dearest pledge he had to leave, of fraternal love.”
-
-Footnote 51:
-
- In the Castlereagh papers the assumed name of B. Teeling is stated to
- have been Byrne.
-
- * * * * *
-
-All this time Mary Teeling was without news of him, and to the burden
-which she already had to bear was added that of intolerable anxiety for
-her eldest son, and great uneasiness about Charles, of whose health his
-father brought back discouraging reports from his visits to Kilmainham.
-The kindness of her brother John and his wife Catherine, and the
-hospitality they so gladly offered her and her girls, could not make her
-forget the wreck of her own beautiful home, and the irreparable damage
-done to her husband’s fortune. Moreover, his health was much affected by
-the condition of his affairs, and the fatigues he had undergone to
-re-establish them. A trip to a Donegal Spa, followed by a horseback
-journey to Connacht (where he hoped to establish a new bleach-green) had
-exhausted him, and in the spring of ’98, he had been sent by his doctor
-to Cushendall for sea-bathing. His frequent changes of abode were
-represented to Government as connected with treasonable activities, and
-accordingly on June 16th, 1798, he was arrested, and committed to prison
-in Belfast, no charge being made against him.
-
-For four years Luke Teeling was kept in prison, and was only liberated
-in 1802. And during all that time no charge was brought against him, nor
-did his repeated requests to be brought to trial bring any result. From
-the provost prison in Belfast, he was moved to the _Postlethwaite_
-tender, lying in Belfast Lough, one of the prison ships which were among
-the horrors of the day; from that to Carrickfergus Castle, and finally
-back to the prison in Belfast. It has been my privilege to read many of
-the letters addressed by Luke Teeling from his various prisons to
-members of his family, and truly it was with a great stirring of the
-heart that one held them in one’s hands, and read the story they tell of
-sufferings heroically borne; of a devotion to honour and principle which
-counted no cost too great; of a Faith and Hope, and love of God and
-God’s Church intense enough to make the writer free of the ardent and
-heroic company of the saints. There is one letter written from the
-_Postlethwaite_, where the firm hand trembles, and the strong heart
-shows nigh to breaking—which it is impossible to read without tears. It
-is the letter in which the father writes to Bartle’s old friend, Sam
-Wall, the news of Bartle’s execution.
-
-For in the days when Luke Teeling was enduring the horrors of the prison
-ship in the sweltering summer heat,[52] Bartle’s brief but glorious day
-had come to its heroic close on the “martyr’s mound” at Arbour Hill,
-Dublin. It is not here that may be fully told the gallant story of
-Bartle Teeling and the part he played in the Humbert Expedition. On his
-white charger he rides for ever amid the “fair chivalry” of the
-boy-heroes of Ireland amid the
-
- “White horsemen with Christ their Captain—forever he.”
-
-Footnote 52:
-
- “The _Postlethwaite Tender_, on which my father was confined,
- contained within the limits of one small apartment, thirty-four
- gentlemen, of respectable rank in life and independent circumstances.
- In this miserable prison-house, its inmates could never stand erect,
- and crowded together in a circumscribed space not fourteen feet
- square, they could only enjoy a partial and unrefreshing slumber in
- succession. Here, entombed on the ocean, during the sultry heat of a
- summer the most oppressive that has been remembered for thirty years,
- they inhaled the pestiferous atmosphere of a tender; in the depth of
- winter, when their numbers were reduced to a few, they were exposed
- with open port-holes to all the inclemency of the chilling blast. Nor
- were they permitted to receive a supply of wholesome food from their
- friends; nothing was allowed them beyond what the parsimonious bounty
- of Government afforded. At four o’clock in the evening the hatches
- were locked down, and the prisoners remained in darkness until nine on
- the following morning. Sometimes, forgetful of his situation, the
- prisoner would raise his form to stand erect ... when the hard
- repelling beam, in contact with his head, reminded him that the hand
- of man had prescribed his limits. My father, whose fine-formed head
- and silver locks are still present to my imagination, presented on his
- removal from this prison, a perfect encrustment of festered wounds
- from forehead to nape.”—C. H. Teeling’s “Narrative.”
-
-And the day shall come, please God, when no Irish boy shall be ignorant
-of the lines he wrote in the Golden Annals of their knightly company.
-
- * * * * *
-
-Was it given to his mother to see her idolised son once more before he
-mounted the scaffold on Arbour Hill on September the 24th, 1798? To this
-question we can find no answer. We know, from her husband’s letter to
-Sam Wall, that for a time it was feared Mary Teeling would die, so
-completely did she break down under the agonising load of her conjugal
-and maternal sorrows. Bartle was not the only son whom Ireland claimed
-from her. Charles and John were now on their keeping. A few months after
-the consummation of Bartle’s sacrifice, John, her youngest son, her
-Benjamin, was taken from her—and of him, as truly as of Bartle, she
-might say, he gave his life for Ireland.
-
-During her husband’s continued imprisonment, she tried to keep as close
-to him as she could, and for a time, it would appear she was permitted
-to share it in Carrickfergus Castle. Stifling her own sorrows she found
-strength to comfort him, and to lend him courage. His affairs had been
-reduced to ruin, by the vindictive action of Government, and to all his
-other woes was now added that which must have been of a peculiarly
-galling character to a man of his fastidious sense of honour: his
-inability to pay his creditors in full.
-
-In 1802 Mr. Teeling was liberated, and after a time spent with Charles,
-now married to Catherine Carolan, and settled at the Naul, near
-Balbriggan, he made a home for his wife and girls in Belfast. Though an
-elderly man—older than his years, indeed, from the hardships of his
-imprisonment—he made a characteristically gallant effort to make a new
-start in life. His sons, George and Charles and Luke, helped as far as
-they could to re-establish the family fortunes, but the times were
-against them. George and Luke went finally to America and died there.
-
-On a certain day in 1822 a letter arrived, re-directed from Belfast to
-Castlecomer, where Mr. and Mrs. Teeling and their unmarried daughters,
-Mary and Milly, had gone on a visit to Charles and his family. It was in
-an unknown hand-writing, and was signed by an unknown correspondent,
-William Cullen, from the City of Natchez, State of Mississippi. It
-contained the sad tidings of the death of George, and enclosed a ring
-which had been given to Bartle by Hoche, and to George by Bartle on the
-eve of his execution. It was Mary Teeling’s destiny to read the letter
-containing the news of her son’s death, by the coffin which contained
-the mortal remains of her husband. In the bitterness of her grief her
-wifely devotion could find comfort in the knowledge that this last
-earthly sorrow had been spared her beloved Luke—and that from the
-heavenly vantage ground whence he now looked, it was turned for him into
-a joy.
-
-The few remaining years of Mary Teeling’s life were spent with Charles
-and his wife and little ones. And it is to the loving memories of these
-years, cherished by her grandson Bartholomew, that we owe the vivid
-portrait of her which I have borrowed to adorn my pages.
-
-
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-
-
-
-
- THE WIVES OF ’NINETY-EIGHT
-
-
-
-
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-
-
-
-
- The Wife of Theobald Wolfe Tone
-
- MATILDA TONE _née_ WITHERINGTON (1769-1849)[53]
-
- “I thought, O my Love! you were so—
- As the moon is, or sun on a fountain.
- And I thought after that you were snow,
- The cold snow on top of a mountain;
- And I thought after that, you were more
- Like God’s grace shining to find me,
- Or the bright star of knowledge before,
- And the star of knowledge behind me.”
- —Hyde’s “Love Songs of Connacht.”
-
-Footnote 53:
-
- _Authorities_: “Autobiography of Wolfe Tone,” edited by R. Barry
- O’Brien; Madden’s “United Irishmen,” Second Series, Second Edition,
- 1848.
-
-
-IT was where a man should always find the Ladye of his Dreams that
-Theobald Wolfe Tone found his sky-woman—above the crowded ways of life,
-and yet not so far above them but that a man might, by raising his eyes,
-see her leaning towards him, bending upon his path the star-like
-radiance of her beauty, or that by climbing to her, a man might reach
-her side.
-
-On a certain day, early in the year 1785, young Tone, then in his
-twenty-second year, and a scholar of the University of Dublin, went out,
-as his custom was after commons, with a fellow student for a stroll in
-Grafton Street. They were on the way to Byrne’s, the bookseller’s—a
-favourite _rendezvous_ of intellectual and political Dublin—when,
-happening to glance up, they saw leaning from the window of a house near
-Byrne’s, as once “the Blessed Damozel leaned out from the gold bar of
-Heaven”—an exquisite young girl.
-
-It was a case of mutual love “at first sight.” The passionate adoration
-which the romantic young student of Trinity—with his head full of love
-poetry from his rehearsals for private theatricals, and dreams of
-military glory from his constant attendances at parades and field days
-in Phoenix Park—brought to the young loveliness of sixteen-year-old
-Matilda Witherington, was fully returned. Every day he passed her window
-and every day he found her there watching for his coming; and so it fell
-out that these two, who were to endure so much together, whose
-love-story was to be remembered, as long as Ireland keeps a place in her
-faithful heart for the constancy, and heroism and gallantry of her sons
-and daughters, had given their hearts irrevocably to each other before
-ever they knew the sound of each other’s voices.
-
-He might be a dreamer, this slightly built, pock-marked young man with
-the keen eyes, and resolute, soldierly gait, who haunted Grafton Street
-so persistently through the spring and early summer of 1785. But he had
-an astonishingly practical turn for making his dreams come true. The
-time was to come when the dream of French aid for Ireland was to
-materialise through his instrumentality, in an expedition composed of
-fifteen thousand of the finest troops of the Republic, incomparably
-equipped, and commanded by one of the foremost generals in Europe. The
-secret of his success was that he always knew perfectly what he wanted,
-and having decided on the best road to reach his goal, walked it with
-that light but resolute soldier’s step of his, humming a gay tune, and
-allowing nothing to turn him aside. Having ascertained, now, that the
-house where his lady dwelt, and to which he desired an introduction,
-belonged to a rich old clergyman, called Fanning, and that the lady
-herself was the Rev. Mr. Fanning’s grandaughter, he contrived to make
-the acquaintance of her brother, and “as _he_ played well on the violin,
-and I was myself a musical man, we grew intimate, the more so as it may
-well be supposed I neglected no fair means to recommend myself to him
-and the rest of the family with whom I soon grew a favourite. My affairs
-now advanced prosperously; my wife and I grew more passionately fond of
-each other; and in a short time I proposed to her to marry me without
-asking consent of any one, knowing well that it would be in vain to
-expect it; she accepted the proposal as frankly as I made it, and one
-beautiful morning in the month of July we ran off together and were
-married. I carried her out of town to Maynooth for a few days, and when
-the first _éclat_ of passion had subsided, we were forgiven on all
-sides, and settled in lodgings near my wife’s grandfather.”
-
-It non-plussed the Duke of Wellington at a later date, to think of Tone
-arriving in Paris “with a hundred guineas in his pocket, unknown and
-unrecommended,” and, by mere force of personality, obtaining from the
-French Government the wherewithal to overturn the British Government in
-Ireland. But I doubt if that achievement was any more remarkable in its
-own way than to find him, as we do now, winning the pearl of all
-women—and a happiness such as it is given to few mortals to taste—with
-nothing better to back up his suit than his flute—on which, we are given
-to understand, he was an indifferent, if enthusiastic performer!
-
-For a time all went well with the young couple. The husband resumed for
-a short time his studies at the University, from which he graduated in
-February, 1786, and the girl-wife was happy not only in his love but in
-the restored favour of her relatives. “But,” as Tone himself says, “it
-was too good to last.” The Fannings and Witheringtons suddenly began to
-make themselves as disagreeable as possible, and to escape from them it
-was necessary for the young _ménage_ to take refuge with old Mr. and
-Mrs. Tone, who were, for the moment, farming near Clane in Co. Kildare.
-
-The Tones received their new daughter with open arms. Peter Tone, the
-father, idolised his clever eldest son, and if Matthew was the mother’s
-favourite, she, too, was proud of brilliant, fascinating Theobald. Mary
-Tone, the only girl of the family, lost her heart at once to her
-charming sister-in-law, and henceforth the bond that united them was
-only to grow closer with every danger and sorrow shared together through
-all the passing years. Unfortunately old Peter Tone’s finances were not
-in a very flourishing condition at this time—but, whatever was going,
-his son and his daughter-in-law were perfectly welcome to share.
-
-It was in her father-in-law’s place at Clane that Matilda Tone’s first
-baby was born, a lovely little girl, whom they called Maria. Little
-Maria was but a few months old when her seventeen-year-old mother gave
-evidence of that marvellous courage and heroic devotion to her husband,
-which were so often to be displayed during her married life.
-
-One October night a band of six robbers burst into the home of Peter
-Tone, armed with pistols and having their faces blackened. “Having tied
-the whole family, they proceeded to plunder and demolish every article
-they could find, even to the unprofitable villainy of breaking the
-china, looking-glasses, etc. At length, after two hours, a maid-servant
-whom they had tied negligently, having made her escape, they took the
-alarm, and fled with precipitation, leaving the house such a scene of
-horror and confusion as can hardly be imagined. With regard to myself,
-it is impossible to conceive what I suffered. As it was early in the
-night I happened to be in the courtyard, where I was seized and tied by
-the gang, who then proceeded to break into the house, leaving a ruffian
-sentinel over me, with a case of pistols cocked in his hand. In this
-situation I lay for two hours, and could hear distinctly the devastation
-which was going on within. I expected death every instant, and I can
-safely and with great truth declare that my apprehension for my wife had
-so totally absorbed the whole of my mind that my own existence was then
-the least of my concerns. When the villains, including my sentry, ran
-off, I scrambled to my feet with some difficulty, and made my way to a
-window where I called, but received no answer. My heart died within me.
-I proceeded to another and another, but still no answer. It was
-horrible. I set myself to gnaw the cords with which I was tied, in a
-transport of agony and rage, for I verily believed that my whole family
-lay murdered within, when I was relieved from my unspeakable terror and
-anguish by my wife’s voice, which I heard calling on my name at the end
-of the house. It seems that, as soon as the robbers fled, those within
-had untied each other with some difficulty, and made their escape
-through a back window; they had got a considerable distance from the
-house, before, in their fright, they recollected me, of whose fate they
-were utterly ignorant as I was of theirs. Under these circumstances, my
-wife had the courage to return alone, and, in the dark, to find me out,
-not knowing but she might again fall in to the hands of the enemy, from
-whom she had scarcely escaped, or that I might be lying a lifeless
-carcase at the threshold. I can imagine no greater act of courage; but
-of what is not a woman capable for him she truly loves? She cut the
-cords which bound me, and at length we joined the rest of the family at
-a little hamlet within half a mile of the house, where they had fled for
-shelter.”[54]
-
-Footnote 54:
-
- “Autobiography of Wolfe Tone,” pp. 14, 15.
-
-It will easily be believed that during the rest of that dreary winter
-none of Peter Tone’s household—except perhaps Baby Maria—slept sound o’
-nights. “I slept,” says Theobald, “continually with a case of pistols at
-my pillow, and a mouse could not stir that I was not on my feet and
-through the house from top to bottom. If any one knocked at the door
-after nightfall we flew to our arms, and in this manner, we kept a most
-painful garrison through the winter.”
-
-Fear of external enemies was not the only trouble the little garrison
-suffered. Within there was an ever-growing poverty, an ever increasing
-load of financial troubles. Theobald could bear no longer to be a
-useless “mouth” in the hunger-besieged citadel of his father’s home—and
-so he scraped together in some way a little money and went off to London
-to keep his terms as a law student of the Middle Temple.
-
-During the period of his absence in London (January, 1787, to December,
-1788) Matilda Tone and her little girl remained with her father-in-law
-in Clane. Her husband tells us that she and little Maria were treated by
-his father with great affection. But the situation was very painful. Old
-Peter Tone’s affairs grew every day more involved, and the letters she
-got from her husband in London brought little comfort. She knew how he
-hated Law, and how unwillingly he drudged at the study of it. If, as was
-his habit in later years, he made her at this period the _confidante_ of
-all his schemes and dreams, it is certain that she must have had many an
-anxious moment at the prospects they presented to her. Now it was a
-project for establishing a colony on a military plan, in one of Captain
-Cook’s newly-discovered islands in the South Sea. Fascinating as Captain
-Cook’s description of these islands might be, it was not to be expected
-that a young mother of eighteen could picture herself and her little one
-exiled to one of them from the fair hills of Ireland without dismay. But
-at least if that project materialised she should have her husband with
-her. Not so with the second project—conceived in a fit of black
-despondency when everything else seemed hopeless. It was to “list” as a
-soldier in the East India Company’s service: “to quit Europe for ever,
-and to leave my wife and child to the mercy of her family who might, I
-hoped, be kinder to her when I was removed.”[55] Brave as Matilda Tone
-was, it is not surprising to learn that her health broke down under the
-strain of her anxieties.
-
-Footnote 55:
-
- “Autobiography,” p. 19.
-
-At length a friend, touched by the hapless condition of the young pair,
-made intercession for them with old Mr. Fanning. The grandfather was
-induced to give Matilda £500 of the dower he had promised her—and on the
-strength of this advance, Theobald returned to Ireland.
-
-There was a joyful re-union in his father’s house at Blackhall on
-Christmas Day, 1788. Matilda’s wan countenance brightened into its old
-beauty when she had her husband by her side again, and the pride of the
-young father in his charming little daughter was a subject of great
-delight to her. Now the world was a delightful place once more.
-
-They left Blackhall after New Year’s Day, 1789, and after a short stay
-with Mr. Fanning in Grafton Street, took up their residence in Clarendon
-Street. Theobald was soon after called to the Bar, and went circuit in
-Leinster. His success was surprising—especially to himself who
-considered that he knew exactly as much of law as he did of necromancy.
-“I was, modestly speaking,” he confesses in his pleasant way, “one of
-the most ignorant barristers in the Four Courts.” But it is plain that
-if he had cared to succeed he could have succeeded brilliantly.
-
-As it was, he soon gave up law for politics—his first venture in which
-was a pamphlet in the interests of the Whig Club. This procured for him
-the favour of Grattan, Forbes and Ponsonby, and put a little profitable
-law business in his way. But the prospects which were held out to him of
-a seat in Parliament did not materialise; and very soon, Tone, whose
-opinions matured rapidly under an “intensive” method of political
-culture, found he had so far outgrown “Whig” principles that he could
-enter into no alliance with them. Briefly put, the points of difference
-were these: Tone held that “the influence of England was the radical
-vice of the Irish Government, and consequently that Ireland would never
-be either free, prosperous or happy until she was independent, and that
-independence was unobtainable whilst the connection with England
-existed.” Grattan and those who thought with him were attached to the
-connection with England, and considered that if certain grievances
-(which they could not see were inherent in the system) were removed, all
-would be for the best, in the best of all possible worlds. In the
-illumination of his discovery Tone “began to look on the little politics
-of the Whig Club with great contempt: _their peddling about petty
-grievances instead of going to the root of the evil_,” and he rejoiced
-that with his poverty he had kept his independence and could develop his
-political creed without being bound by the tenets of the Whigs.
-
-One afternoon Theobald brought home to dinner a new acquaintance whom he
-had met the previous day in the gallery of the House of Commons. Mrs.
-Tone was as much taken as her husband by the fascinating address of this
-tall soldierly man with the dark eyes, coal black silky hair, and olive
-complexion, whom Theobald introduced to her as Thomas Russell. Long
-afterwards these three who dined together then for the first time,
-remembering the date of their first re-union, felt inclined to keep its
-anniversary as a festival. As Tone, on the eve of the most momentous
-crisis of his life, the departure of the Bantry Bay expedition, sat in a
-quiet corner of Paris reviewing his past, he counted the day he made
-Russell’s acquaintance as one of the most fortunate in his life. He
-joins the name of the passionately loved wife with that of the beloved
-friend. “I frame no system of happiness for my future life on which the
-enjoyment of his society does not constitute a most distinguishing
-feature, and if I am ever inclined to murmur at the difficulties
-wherewith I have so long struggled, I think on the inestimable treasure
-I possess in the affection of my wife, and the friendship of Russell,
-and I acknowledge that all my labours and sufferings are overpaid. I may
-truly say, that, even at this hour when I am separated from both of
-them, and uncertain whether I may ever be so happy as to see them again,
-there is no action of my life, which has not a remote reference to their
-opinion which I equally prize. When I think I have acted well, and that
-I am likely to succeed in the important business wherein I am engaged, I
-say often to myself: ‘My dearest love and my friend Russell will be glad
-of this.’”[56]
-
-Footnote 56:
-
- “Autobiography,” p. 29.
-
-A short time after they had made the acquaintance of Russell, the Tones
-went to spend the summer by the seaside at Irishtown, the doctor having
-prescribed sea-bathing as a cure for Mrs. Tone’s continued delicacy.
-Thither came Russell every day to visit them, and thither came also very
-frequently in his company Russell’s venerable father and his delightful
-brother, Captain John. Room was found, too, in “the little box of a
-house” for Mary Tone, and for William whenever he could spare a week
-from Matthew’s cotton factory at Prosperous. As Tone writes of these
-happy days he grows lyrical in his praise of them. “I recall with
-transport the happy days we spent during that period; the delicious
-dinners, in the preparation of which my wife, Russell and myself were
-all engaged; the afternoon walks, the discussions we had, as we lay
-stretched on the grass.... If I may judge we were none of us destitute
-of the humour indigenous in the soil of Ireland; ... add to this I was
-the only one who was not a poet, or at least a maker of verses, so that
-every day produced a ballad, or some poetical squib, which amused us
-after dinner; and as our conversation turned upon no ribaldry, or
-indecency, my wife and sister never left the table. These were delicious
-days. The rich and great, who sit down every day to the monotony of a
-splendid entertainment, can form no idea of the happiness of our frugal
-meal, nor of the infinite pleasure we found in taking each his part in
-the preparation and attendance. My wife was the centre and the soul of
-all. I scarcely knew which of us loved her best; her courteous manners,
-her never-failing cheerfulness, her affection for me and for our
-children, rendered her the object of our common admiration and delight.
-She loved Russell as well as I did. In short, a more interesting society
-of individuals, connected by purer motives, and animated by a more
-ardent attachment and friendship for each other, cannot be
-imagined.”[57]
-
-Footnote 57:
-
- “Autobiography,” pp. 29, 30.
-
-During these long days of summer leisure and talk, Tone’s old project of
-a military colony in the South Sea was revived, and a memorial on the
-subject was drawn up by him and Russell and sent to the Duke of
-Richmond. Both the Duke and Lord Grenville, Secretary of State for
-Foreign Affairs, showed an interest in the scheme, and it is possible
-that it might have led to something had not the threatened wars between
-England and Spain been averted by “a kind of peace called a convention.”
-
-Shortly after this disappointment Russell was appointed to an Ensigncy
-on full pay in the 64th Regiment of foot and sent to Belfast where his
-regiment was then quartered. The last day he dined at Irishtown he
-arrived in a “very fine suit of laced regimentals,” and was set by his
-irreverent friends to cook the dinner in this attire.
-
-The Tones did not remain long in their seaside cottage after Russell’s
-departure for Belfast. They returned to town for the winter, and here
-their eldest son William was born.
-
-The winter found Theobald pursuing his political studies and founding a
-political club, consisting of literary friends of his who had already
-attained eminence; they included Dr. Drennan, the poet; Whitley Stokes
-and John Stack, Fellows of Trinity College; Joseph Pollock, Peter
-Burrowes and Thomas Addis Emmet. In spite of the distinguished talents
-each member brought to the re-union, the Club was anything but a success
-and it was soon dissolved.
-
-At this time all Ireland was in a ferment owing to the influence of the
-French Revolution. The partisans of a settled order of things, including
-Grattan and his Whig friends, had followed Edmund Burke in their
-opposition to the new principles on which the French had set out to
-remodel the world. But those in Ireland who felt themselves “an
-oppressed, insulted and plundered nation” were heart and soul with the
-French people in their struggle for freedom. “In a little time the
-French Revolution became the test of every man’s political creed, and
-the nation was fairly divided into two great parties, the Aristocrats
-and the Democrats.”
-
-Tone, of course, was an ardent Democrat, and these views of his, being
-speedily known, injured beyond any possibility of repair his prospects
-of success at the Bar—but brought him into close touch with two bodies
-of men who were each in their own way, struggling to be free—and nerved
-by the fight in France “to do or die” for liberty. These were the
-Catholics of Ireland, and the Dissenters of the North.
-
-Russell’s stay in Belfast had brought him into close touch with the
-leaders of advanced thought in the northern city, whose programme of
-freedom embraced freedom not for themselves only but for the Catholics
-still enslaved by the Penal Laws. On the occasion of some Volunteer
-celebration in Belfast a resolution in favour of Catholic Emancipation
-was to be put forward, and Russell undertook to get Tone to draw it up.
-The commission was willingly accepted, and though the resolution was
-eventually not put to the meeting in the form Tone had given it, the
-circumstance had the result of setting him thinking more seriously than
-he had yet done on the state of Ireland. “I soon formed my theory, and
-on that theory I have invariably acted ever since!”
-
-What was that theory which was to give a new impetus to Irish
-nationality, which was to be upheld at the cost of so much bloodshed and
-suffering, which was to be a dogma as living and peremptory in 1916 as
-in 1798—and in defence of which Patrick Pearse and his men were to face
-the guns of General Maxwell, as proudly as Wolfe Tone took command of
-the battery of the _Hoche_, in the glorious fight she put up, one little
-vessel against a whole fleet, on an October morning one hundred and
-eighteen years earlier. Here it is in Wolfe Tone’s own words: “To
-subvert the tyranny of our execrable Government, to break the connection
-with England, the never-failing source of all our political evils, and
-to assert the independence of my country—these were my objects. To unite
-the whole people of Ireland, to abolish the memory of all past
-dissensions, and to substitute the common name of Irishman in place of
-the denominations of Protestant, Catholic and Dissenter—these were my
-means.”[58]
-
-Footnote 58:
-
- “Autobiography,” pp. 50, 51. Pearse held “all Irish Nationalism to be
- explicit in these words. Davis was to make explicit certain things
- here implicit, Lalor certain other things; Mitchel was to thunder the
- whole in words of apocalyptic wrath and splendour. But the Credo is
- here: ‘I believe in One Irish Nation and that Free.’”—(“Ghosts,” p.
- 16.)
-
-Considering the Protestants hopeless, Tone first directed his efforts to
-an attempt to unite the Catholics and Dissenters. He accordingly sat
-down and wrote a pamphlet,[59] over the signature of a “Northern Whig,”
-in which he sought “to convince the Dissenters that they and the
-Catholics had but one common interest and one common enemy; that the
-depression and slavery of Ireland was produced and perpetuated by the
-divisions existing between them, and that, consequently, to assert the
-independence of their country, and their own individual liberties, it
-was necessary to forget all former feuds, to consolidate the entire
-strength of the whole nation, and to form for the future but one
-people.”[60]
-
-Footnote 59:
-
- “Argument on behalf of the Catholics of Ireland.”
-
-Footnote 60:
-
- “Autobiography,” p. 50.
-
-The pamphlet had an immense success and its results a very decisive
-influence on the Tones’ fortunes. On the one hand, the Catholics, who
-under the capable leadership of John Keogh, were developing a new
-“forward” policy, sought out this champion of theirs and loaded him with
-attentions. Through John Keogh, Tone made the acquaintance of the
-principal Catholic leaders in Dublin, Richard MacCormick, John Sweetman,
-Edward Byrne, Thomas Braughall. During the winter of 1791 the Catholic
-leaders, who were for the most part men of great wealth, got into the
-fashion of giving splendid dinners to their political friends, and Tone
-was invariably a guest at these functions. Eventually he was offered,
-through the influence of Keogh, the position of assistant secretary to
-the Catholic Committee, with a salary of £200 a year. In those days one
-could live very comfortably on £200 a year, and poor Matilda Tone, who
-must have known many an anxious moment up to this, must have looked on
-it as affluence. Tone earned his salary well; and the astonishing
-success of the Catholic Convention was largely due to his energy and
-splendid power of organisation. In his efforts on behalf of the
-Catholics, and in his fidelity to their cause, Tone was greatly
-stimulated by his wife’s sympathy. He pays her, in this connection, one
-of the noblest compliments a wife ever received: “In these sentiments I
-was encouraged and confirmed by the incomparable spirit of my wife, to
-whose patient suffering under adversity, for we had often been reduced,
-and were now well accustomed to difficulties, I know not how to render
-justice. Women, in general, I am sorry to say, are mercenary, and,
-especially if they have children, they are ready to make all sacrifices
-to their establishment. But my dearest love had bolder and juster views.
-On every occasion of my life I consulted her; we had no secrets one from
-the other, and I unvaryingly found her think and act with energy and
-courage, combined with the greatest courage and discretion. If ever I
-succeed in life or arrive at anything like station or eminence I shall
-consider it as due to her counsels and her example.”[61]
-
-Footnote 61:
-
- “Autobiography,” p. 66.
-
-The pamphlet had made an equally favourable impression on the Dissenters
-of the North, and especially on the advanced thinkers of Belfast. Its
-author was elected an honorary member of the first “or green” company of
-the Belfast Volunteers (an honour never before accorded to any one
-except Henry Flood) and invited to spend a few days in Belfast to make
-the personal acquaintance of the republican leaders there. He set off
-for the North about the beginning of October, accompanied by his friend
-Russell, who had left the army and happened to be in Dublin on his
-private affairs.
-
-Of this trip Tone kept for his wife’s amusement a diary, a practice
-which he continued, when he was absent from her, to the end of his life.
-He and she were diligent readers of Swift, and he invokes the memory of
-Swift and Stella when he writes to tell her of all the news he has
-“journalised” for her, and which he looks forward to reading over with
-her when he gets home. He has christened his friend, Russell, “P.P. or
-Clerk of this Parish”—another reminiscence of Swift,[62] and he promises
-his wife she will be much amused by said P.P.’s “exploits in my journal,
-which is a thousand times wittier than Swift’s, as in justice it ought,
-for it is written for the amusement of one a thousand times more amiable
-than Stella.”
-
-Footnote 62:
-
- In the “Memoirs of the Clerk of the Parish,” Swift parodied Bishop
- Burton’s “History of His Own Times.”
-
-Little, perhaps, did this dear lady, “a thousand times more amiable than
-Stella,” think, as her charming face dimpled over her husband’s
-ludicrous account of his own and his friend’s adventures, that she was
-reading one of the most important chapters in Irish history. For the
-business afoot in Belfast—the aim and object of Tone’s and Russell’s
-embassy was nothing less than the establishment of the United
-Irishmen—the union of Irish Catholics, Irish Protestants and Irish
-Dissenters under the common name of Irish _men_ against the common
-enemy. But perhaps she did, for nobody can have known better than she
-what a serious aim, what strength of will and tenacity of purpose, what
-a steel-like grip of principles and logical fidelity to their
-consequences lay under the light surface of her husband’s wit and
-drollery. The best minds in Ireland were the quickest to grasp Tone’s
-greatness and genius: Thomas Addis Emmet, John Keogh, Plunkett—to take
-three, out of three very different types. The best minds in France
-showed, afterwards, a like readiness of appreciation: Carnot, the
-Organiser of Victory, and General Hoche.
-
-One thing, however, it is certain, Matilda Tone never dreamed of: the
-way in which the Journal’s family jokes—bad, if you like, as family
-jokes always are, except to the “family” itself, to whom they seem
-irresistibly funny—were to be interpreted against the diarist and his
-friend. It was one of the favourite jests of the merry little party of
-holiday-makers at Irishtown to represent “Tom” Russell, who was dignity
-and solemnity itself, something like a Spanish Don, in his courtesy and
-punctilio,[63] as a desperate character, a regular Jonah Barrington type
-of “Irishman.” It tickled their sense of the ludicrous, something in the
-same way as when they found Tone setting his dignified friend to cook
-the dinner in his “fine suit of laced regimentals.” “If you do not know
-who P.P. was, the joke will be lost on you,” writes Tone _à propos_ to
-the incidents in which solemn “P.P.” is made to figure as a regular
-“hell of a fellow.”
-
-Footnote 63:
-
- We have, among a host of other witnesses on this point, Charles
- Hamilton Teeling, himself a man of the finest courtesy, most
- fastidious sense of honour and highest breeding. When Lord
- Castlereagh, on the day of his own arrest, informed him that Russell
- was also among those arrested, Charles exclaimed: “Russell! then the
- soul of honour is captive.” (“Personal Narrative,” p. 19). He tells
- further on how Russell, when the prisoners were brought to Judge
- Boyd’s house for their committment, was pained by Neilson’s levity.
- “No man regarded etiquette and the punctilios of politeness more. He
- looked solemn, stroked up his fine black hair, and with a sweetness of
- countenance peculiarly his own, and in a gently modulated but
- sufficiently audible tone of voice he begged of his friend Neilson to
- respect the dignity of the Bench.” Russell was a deeply religious
- character, with that combined humility, consciousness of his own
- weakness, and striving after perfection which is the foundation of
- saintliness. There is nothing nobler, more touching, or more edifying
- in our history than the story of how he went to his death.
-
-Unfortunately, later readers of the Journal, not knowing “P.P.,” nor the
-incorrigible practical joker who was his friend, have missed the point
-of the jokes and have taken the Journal’s accusations of excessive
-drinking and other peccadilloes as literal transcripts of facts. I do
-not here merely speak of Froude, who treats the Journal with his usual
-absence of all honesty in handling documents, detaches all the
-references to hard drinking, omits, _as a matter of course_, all
-reference to the fact that this Journal was written by Tone for his
-wife’s amusement, and on the strength of the diarist’s jokes against
-himself and his friend, makes out Russell and Tone as a pair of
-“ne’er-do-wells,” who, on a drunken spree, set out “to measure swords
-against the British Empire.”[64] We expect nothing better from Froude;
-but it is disconcerting to find Lecky and Barry O’Brien equally misled
-by Tone’s flippancy.
-
-Footnote 64:
-
- Froude, “English in Ireland,” III., 19.
-
- * * * * *
-
-We pass over a year or two, during which Tone was fully occupied by his
-work for the Catholic Committee, and the organisation of the first
-branches of the United Irishmen, and come to the year 1795, which was to
-be a turning point in his own life and in that of his dear ones—the
-beloved wife, their little nine-year-old daughter, and the two small
-sons, William, now aged four, and three-year-old Frank.
-
-Tone was spending a pleasant musical evening with a friend of his in
-Merrion Square, when a servant was introduced bearing a letter which he
-had strict orders to deliver only into Mr. Tone’s hands. The latter read
-the letter and then said quietly to his friend, “Phil, we must finish
-this duet; I must go when it is done.” It transpired afterwards that the
-letter had come from Tone’s good friend of the old Temple days in
-London, Hon. George Knox, Lord Northland’s son, and its purport was to
-warn Tone that the Government had information of his connection with
-Jackson, the emissary of the French Government, and that it would be
-advisable for him to get out of the country as quickly as possible.
-
-We know, now (what poor Tone went to his grave without suspecting) that
-the horrible treachery of Cockayne, the spy who had been set by Pitt to
-lead Jackson to destruction, was being outmatched by the treachery of
-Leonard MacNally, who had spared no trouble to implicate Tone and others
-with Jackson. Urged on by MacNally, though, as it appears, against his
-own instincts, Tone drew up a paper on the state of Ireland, “the
-inference from which was, that circumstances in Ireland were favourable
-to a French invasion.” Of this paper MacNally obtained possession, and
-there is no doubt at all that through him it fell into the hands of
-Government.
-
-The friendship of two persons, with considerable influence in Government
-circles, saved Tone. These were George Knox—and of all persons in the
-world—Marcus Beresford! Through the powerful machinery which they were
-able to put in motion Tone escaped the consequences of his indiscretion,
-on the condition that he should leave the country.
-
-He determined to go to America. But he had no intention of remaining
-there. Before he left Dublin, Russell and he walked out to see Thomas
-Addis Emmet in his charming villa at Rathfarnham. The master of the
-house showed his guests “a little study of an elliptical shape which he
-said he would consecrate to their meetings, if ever they lived to see
-their country emancipated.” Even in that solemn moment, Tone could not
-resist the temptation to rally poor Russell, who was doubtless looking
-more solemn than usual, in his grief at the near parting. But, though
-Emmet entered into the spirit of the jest, they all felt as much as
-Russell the seriousness of the moment, and it was a very thoughtful trio
-who walked back to town together, listening to Tone’s plans. Both
-Russell and Emmet agreed with the latter that his promise to Government
-was fulfilled by his going into exile. As to his future conduct after
-his landing in America he had given no guarantee. His intention was
-“immediately on his arrival in Philadelphia to wait on the French
-Minister, to detail to him fully, the situation of affairs in Ireland,
-to endeavour to obtain a recommendation to the French Government, and if
-he succeeded so far, to leave his family in America, and to set off
-instantly for Paris, and apply in the name of his country for the
-assistance of France in order to assert Ireland’s independence.”[65] The
-three friends were standing in a little triangular field while this
-conversation took place, and when they had shaken hands over the
-resolution that was implied in it, Emmet pointed out that “it was in one
-exactly like it in Switzerland, William Tell and his associates planned
-the downfall of the tyranny of Austria.”
-
-Footnote 65:
-
- “Autobiography,” p. 212.
-
-When public excitement was at its height in consequence of Jackson’s
-trial and his tragic death in the dock, Tone, unwilling to incriminate
-any of his friends, abstained from paying any visits. But his friends
-sought him out, and for the short time Mrs. Tone and he were in Dublin
-after that they were never an instant alone. John Keogh and Richard
-MacCormick were among the kindest and most assiduous. Tone told these
-men of his plans, and received from them the most emphatic assurances of
-their approval.
-
-On May the 20th, 1795, the Tones left Dublin. Matilda Tone and her
-children were never to see that city again, and Theobald was to enter it
-again only in the irons of the arch-enemy.
-
-Mary Tone, who was devotedly attached to her beautiful sister-in-law and
-her charming children, made up her mind to leave Ireland with Theobald’s
-family. Her departure left old Peter Tone and his wife very desolate, as
-all their other children, William, Matthew, and Arthur were far away.
-The grief of the old couple was the hardest thing the emigrants had to
-endure. With his little property of 600 books, and £700 in money,
-Theobald felt himself sufficiently equipped “to make good”—and Matilda
-was not the woman to weaken his courage with any undue display of her
-own feelings. “We kept our spirits admirably. The great attention
-manifested to us, the conviction that we were suffering in the best of
-causes, the hurry attending so great a change, and perhaps a little
-vanity in showing ourselves superior to fortune, supported us under what
-was certainly a trial of the severest kind.”
-
-The attentions of the kind friends in Dublin, great as they were, were
-far surpassed by those they found awaiting them in Belfast. The
-MacCrackens, the Simmses, the Neilsons, Dr. MacDonnell, and a host of
-others vied with each other in getting up entertainments for them;
-parties and excursions were the order of the day. Tone tells us of some
-of these in his Journal. He remembers particularly two days passed on
-Cave Hill. On the first, Russell, Neilson, Simms, MacCracken, and he
-climbed to McArt’s fort and took a solemn obligation never to desist in
-their efforts until they had subverted the authority of England, over
-their country, and asserted their independence. Another day they had a
-pic-nic in the Deer Park, for which the Belfast ladies, Mary Anne and
-Margaret MacCracken, Mrs. Neilson, Miss Simms, etc., exerted all their
-culinary talents; another day, even more delicious yet, was spent in a
-pic-nic party to beautiful Ram’s Island in Lough Neagh. After their
-return to town there were suppers and dances and a little music in these
-friends’ houses. Many, many years after, Mary Anne MacCracken, then a
-very old woman, told Dr. Madden of what she felt when she heard little
-Maria Tone sing in her clear voice, to the air of “The Cruiskeen Lawn,”
-her father’s spirited words: “When Rome by dividing had conquered the
-world.”
-
-The last evening of their stay came all too quickly. They were spending
-it at the MacCracken’s home, of which Bunting was an inmate. The talk
-turned, as it was bound to do among such ardent lovers of music, as
-these were, on Bunting’s collection of Irish Melodies which was well on
-its way to completion, and Bunting was asked to play some air from it.
-
-He chose that called “The Parting of Friends,” and as the poignant grief
-of the old air sought out all their hearts, Matilda Tone’s fortitude,
-for the first time, gave way. She burst into tears and left the room.
-
-The next morning they went aboard the _Cincinnatus_, accompanied by
-their kind friends who had come to take the last farewell of them. When
-Matilda Tone went down to see her quarters she found the little
-state-room her husband had taken for his family full of the good things
-these friends had provided for their comfort: sea-stores, wine, porter
-and spirits, fresh provisions, sweetmeats, and so on. The foresight of
-Dr. MacDonnell had also provided a small medicine chest with written
-directions. This was to be of the greatest service, not for the Tones
-alone, but for their unfortunate fellow-passengers during the trying
-weeks ahead of them.
-
-A voyage across the Atlantic in those days, in a small sailing vessel of
-230 tons, was a most horrible experience. There were three hundred
-passengers on board this boat and they were “crowded to a degree not to
-be conceived by those who had never been aboard a passenger ship.” “The
-slaves who are carried from Africa,” Tone writes, “have much more room
-allowed them than the miserable emigrants who pass from Ireland to
-America.” The captains were out to make as much money as possible and
-they loaded their vessels with as little care for the accommodation of
-their passengers as of any other lumber aboard. The Tones had a small
-state-room eight feet by six. In this Tone fitted up three berths. One
-was occupied by Matilda and little Frank; the second by the two Maries;
-the third by Tone himself and the elder boy William. Tone took on
-himself the “policing” of the ship, and tried to introduce some
-cleanliness. Moreover, with the aid of Dr. MacDonnell’s medicine chest
-and “written directions,” he doctored the passengers—his prescriptions
-drawing also on his own sea-stores, and the wines and spirits provided
-by his Belfast friends. He had the satisfaction of landing all his
-patients safe and sound; and his own family, wonderfully fortunate, had
-not known one hour’s sickness.
-
-But strait quarters, overcrowding and all the other horrors we have
-described did not exhaust the sufferings endured by Irish emigrants in
-the eighteenth century. “About the 20th July ... we were stopped by
-three British frigates, the _Thetis_, Captain Lord Cochrane; the
-_Hussar_, Captain Rose, and the _Esperance_, Captain Wood, who boarded
-us, and after treating us with the greatest insolence, both officers and
-sailors, they _pressed_ every one of our hands, save one, and near fifty
-of my unfortunate fellow-passengers, who were most of them flying to
-America to avoid the tyranny of a bad government at home, and who thus,
-most unexpectedly, fell under the severest tyranny, one of them at least
-which exists. As I was in a jacket and trousers, one of the lieutenants
-ordered me into the boat, as a fit man to serve the king, and it was
-only the screams of my wife and sister which induced him to desist. It
-would have been a pretty termination to my adventure if I had been
-pressed and sent on board a man-of-war. The insolence of these tyrants,
-as well to myself as to my poor fellow-passengers, in whose fate a
-fellowship in misfortune had interested me, I have not since forgotten,
-and I never will.”[66]
-
-Footnote 66:
-
- “Autobiography,” p. 217.
-
-With such gracious sway did great Britannia “rule the waves” in the good
-old days!
-
-On August the 1st the Tones landed in Wilmington, their voyage having
-lasted from June the 13th. They found the principal tavern of the place
-kept by an Irishman, Captain O’Byrne O’Flynn, a veteran of the American
-War of Independence. Here they rested for a few days, and made a useful
-and agreeable acquaintance in the person of General Humpton, an old
-Englishman, of the best type (“a beautiful, hale, stout old man of near
-seventy, perfectly the soldier and the gentleman”) who had fought on the
-American side in the late war. He took a great liking to Tone, and his
-charming wife, and sister and pretty children, and showed himself very
-eager to serve them.
-
-The Tones left Wilmington, as soon as the ladies and children had
-recruited from the fatigue of the sea-voyage and reached Philadelphia on
-August the 8th. Here Tone met two old friends—Hamilton Rowan and Dr.
-Reynolds, both of whom had, like himself, got into trouble with the
-Irish Government over the “_affaire Jackson_.” They had a great time
-telling each other their adventures since they had last met in Hamilton
-Rowan’s cell in Newgate fourteen months previously. Reynolds and Rowan
-were athirst for news from Ireland, and eagerly listened to all Tone had
-to tell them.
-
-Tone lost no time in approaching the French Minister, Adet, in
-Philadelphia. Bearing a letter of introduction from Rowan, he waited the
-very day after his arrival on Adet, and signified in as clear a way as
-was possible under the circumstances (“_he_ spoke English very
-imperfectly, and I French a great deal worse”) the desires of himself
-and his friends in Ireland for French aid to shake off the English yoke.
-Adet requested him to draw up a memorial, and promised to transmit this
-to his Government. He also promised to use his influence to procure the
-enlargement of Matthew Tone, who was a prisoner at Guise. But this was
-as far as he would go.
-
-Poor Tone, much disheartened by the Minister’s attitude, found little
-ground for hope that the French Government would pay any attention to
-his memorial. It seemed to him that the only result of his exertions was
-the satisfaction of having discharged his conscience to his country. But
-as for anything being likely to come of them, he could see no prospects
-at all.
-
-This being so, he bent his mind to making some provision for his family.
-Living in Philadelphia being enormously dear, he moved his family to
-Donningstown, near General Humpton’s place, and leaving them there under
-the General’s kind supervision, he roamed the country in search of a
-suitable farm. After some disappointments he found one about two miles
-from Princeton. He took a small house in that town, furnished it
-frugally and decently, moved his family into it, and having fitted up
-his study, determined to settle down, as contentedly as he could, to the
-life of an American farmer.
-
-Then suddenly all was changed. One day Matilda came into the little
-study, where her husband dreamed his time away, waiting for the legal
-formalities attending the purchase of his plantation to be completed,
-and in her hand was a bundle of letters from Ireland. John Keogh had
-written; Tom Russell had written; the two Simmses had written—and each
-of them in the same strain, telling Tone that the public mind in Ireland
-was advancing towards republicanism faster than even he could believe,
-and pressing him in the strongest manner to fulfil the engagement he had
-made with them at his departure, and to move heaven and earth to force
-his way to the French Government in order to supplicate their
-assistance. Wm. Simms, at the end of a most friendly and affectionate
-letter, desired Tone to draw upon him for £200 sterling.
-
-Tone immediately handed the letters to his wife and sister and desired
-their opinion which he foresaw would be that he should immediately, if
-possible, set out for France. “My wife, especially, whose courage and
-whose zeal for my honour and interests were not in the least abated by
-all her past sufferings, supplicated me to let no consideration of her
-or our children stand for a moment in the way of my engagements to our
-friends and my duty to my country, adding, that she would answer for our
-family during my absence, and that the same Providence which had so
-often, as it were, miraculously preserved us would, she was confident,
-not desert us now. My sister joined her in those entreaties, and it may
-well be supposed I required no great supplication to induce me to make
-one more attempt in a cause to which I had been so long devoted.”
-
-It was Tone’s way never to lose time about any business he might have on
-hand; and accordingly, the very next morning he set off from Princeton
-for Philadelphia to see Minister Adet. He now found Adet as eager to
-forward his design, as he had formerly found him lukewarm. The Minister
-promised him letters for the French Government recommending him in the
-strongest manner, and offered him money for his expenses. Tone
-gratefully accepted the letters but declined the monetary assistance. He
-next sent a messenger to Ireland in the person of the young brother,
-Arthur, who had in the meantime turned up at Princeton, and charged him
-to tell only Neilson, Simms and Russell in Belfast, and Keogh and
-MacCormick in Dublin, that he was sailing for France as soon as he could
-get a vessel. Everybody else in Ireland—especially his father and
-mother—was to be left under the impression that he was farming in
-Princeton. Tone then settled up his financial affairs; allowed himself
-one day’s holiday in Philadelphia with his old friends Reynolds,
-Hamilton Rowan and Napper Tandy (who had recently arrived there). By
-December the 13th—that is to say exactly within a fortnight from his
-departure—he was back in Princeton with Hamilton Rowan to take leave of
-his family.
-
-He has given us a graphic account of the last night in the American
-home. “We supped together in high spirits, and Rowan retiring
-immediately after, my wife, sister and I sat together till very late,
-engaged in that kind of animated and enthusiastic conversation which our
-characters and the nature of the enterprise I was embarked in may be
-supposed to give rise to. The courage and firmness of the women
-supported me, and them, too, beyond my expectations; we had neither
-tears nor lamentations, but, on the contrary, the most ardent hope, and
-the most steady resolution. At length, at four the next morning, I
-embraced them for the last time, and we parted with a steadiness that
-astonished me.”
-
-But Tone had not yet gauged the depths of his wife’s heroic devotion to
-him—and to Ireland. It was only when he had reached New York and was on
-the eve of embarkation—too late to have his determination weakened by
-any anxiety for her condition—that she told him of the little life that
-stirred beneath her heart.
-
- * * * * *
-
-We have but a scanty record of the life of Matilda and Mary Tone and the
-children during the months when Theobald (having landed at Havre de
-Grace on February 1st, 1796) was making his way by the mere force of his
-will and personality to the cabinets of the most powerful ministers in
-France. But our thoughts are turned to them constantly. We know how as
-Tone came home from interviews with De La Croix, the Minister of Foreign
-Affairs, or the American Minister, Monroe, or Carnot, or Hoche, he was
-concerned above all for what his “dearest love” would think of how he
-had comported himself. “I mention these little circumstances because I
-know they will be interesting to her whom I prize above my life ten
-thousand times. There are about six persons in the world who will read
-these detached memorandums with pleasure; to every one else they would
-appear sad stuff. But they are only for the women of my family, for the
-boys if ever we meet again, and for my friend, P.P.” When he sees
-Lodoïska, wife of J. B. Loubet, and records her heroism when her husband
-was a fugitive from the vengeance of Robespierre, he wishes his dearest
-love could see her, too. “I think she would behave as well in similar
-circumstances. Her courage and her affection have been tried in some,
-very nearly as critical.” When in a fit of self-examination he seeks out
-his own motives, he finds it difficult to decide whether it is his
-country or his wife he must put first. “I hope (but I am not sure) my
-country is my first object, at least she is my second. If there be one
-before her, as I rather believe there is, it is my dearest life and
-love, the light of my eyes and spirit of my existence. I wish more than
-for anything on earth to place her in a splendid situation. There is
-none so elevated that she would not adorn, and that she does not
-deserve, and I believe that not I only, but every one who knows her,
-will agree as to that. Truth is truth! She is my first object. But would
-I sacrifice the interests of Ireland to her elevation? No, that I would
-not, and if I would, she would despise me, and if she were to despise
-me, I would go hang myself like Judas. Well there is no regulator for
-the human heart like the certainty of possessing the affections of an
-amiable woman, and, if so, what unspeakable good fortune is mine.”
-
-He compares French women and English women in point of charm and
-attractiveness—and awards the palm to the French. But both of them must
-yield to Irish women. “Give me Ireland for women to make wives and
-mothers of.... The more I see of this wide world, the more I prize the
-inestimable blessing I possess in my wife’s affection, her virtues, her
-courage, her goodness of heart, her sweetness of temper, and besides she
-is very pretty, a circumstance which does not lessen her value in my
-eyes. What is she doing just now, and what would I give to be with her,
-and the little _fanfans_ for half-an-hour.” But one would need a whole
-book for Tone’s charming love-making to his wife.
-
-In May, 1796, Tone wrote to Matilda desiring her to come to France. She
-sold out their little property in America, turned the proceeds into
-_louis d’or_, and set off with Mary and the children. On the voyage they
-met two men who were to be intimately connected with their fate. One was
-a Scotchman, Mr. Wilson, of Dullatur; the other, a young Swiss merchant
-called Giacque. M. Giacque fell deeply in love with Mary Tone, and his
-love being returned, the first letter Theobald received from his wife,
-announcing their safe arrival in Hamburg, contained also a request for
-his consent to Mary’s marriage.
-
-Tone received that letter after his return from the unfortunate
-expedition to Bantry Bay. The prospect of seeing his dear ones again
-consoled him for the terrible disappointment of the expedition. But
-alas! There was news in the letter which disturbed him deeply. Mrs.
-Tone’s health had suffered gravely from all she had undergone. For this
-reason her husband considered it unwise for her to undertake the journey
-from Hamburg in the depth of winter. He, therefore, instructed her to
-stay in Hamburg for the present, more especially as Mary and her husband
-were likely to set up house there, pending the arrangements he would be
-able to make for her.
-
-To some of Matilda Tone’s letters written from Hamburg while her husband
-was serving under Hoche in the Army of _Sambre et Meuse_ were attached
-postscripts from Maria. The first line he had ever seen of his little
-daughter’s writing moved Tone strangely, and there were tears in his
-eyes as he sat down to write her the following answer:
-
- “Dearest Baby,—You are a darling little thing for writing to me,
- and I doat upon you, and when I read your pretty letter, it
- brought the tears into my eyes, I was so glad. I am delighted
- with the account you give me of your brothers; I think it is
- high time that William should begin to cultivate his
- understanding,[67] and therefore I beg you may teach him his
- letters, if he does not know them already, that he may be able
- to write to me by and by. I am not surprised that Frank is a
- bully, and I suppose he and I will have fifty battles when we
- meet. Has he got into a jacket and trousers yet? Tell your mamma
- from me, ‘_we do defer it most shamefully, Mr. Shandy_.’[68] I
- hope you will take great care of your poor mamma, who, I am
- afraid, is not well; but I need not say that, for I am sure you
- do, because you are a darling good child, and I love you more
- than all the world. Kiss your mamma and your two little
- brothers, for me, ten thousand times, and love me, as you
- promise, as long as you live.
-
- “Your affectionate _Fadoff_,
- J. Smith.”[69]
-
-Footnote 67:
-
- William had then reached the mature age of six, and Frank was a year
- younger.
-
-Footnote 68:
-
- One of the favourite games in the family circle was matching and
- identifying quotations. Tone’s Journal is full of them.
-
-Footnote 69:
-
- This was the name under which Tone served in the French army.
-
-It was not until May 7th, 1797, that Tone and his family were re-united.
-He got leave of absence from his regiment, and wrote to them to meet him
-at Gröningen. He arrived here on May the 2nd and for the next five days
-he haunted the canal—“tormented with the most terrible apprehensions on
-account of the absence of my dearest love, about whom I hear nothing;
-walked out every day to the canal, two or three times a day to meet the
-boats coming from Nieuschans when she will arrive. No love! No love! I
-never was so unhappy in my life.... At last, this day (May 7th), in the
-evening, as I was taking my usual walk along the canal, I had the
-unspeakable satisfaction to see my dearest love and our little babies,
-my sister and her husband, all arrive safe and well; it is impossible to
-describe the pleasure I felt.”
-
-A fortnight was spent very delightfully travelling through Holland and
-Belgium. After that Tone went to Germany, and Matilda and her charge
-proceeded to Paris under the escort of M. Giacque.
-
-In the new home in Paris, to which Theobald returned as often as his
-military duties permitted, Matilda Tone devoted herself to the education
-of her children while the fateful months from the end of May, 1797, to
-the beginning of September, 1798, sped by. During that “crowded hour” of
-her husband’s glorious life much history was a-making; and now, as
-always, his wife performed her woman’s part: to watch and wait, and
-suffer and sacrifice herself to her husband’s—a splendidly tragic
-destiny—with incomparable and heroic devotion.
-
-She had need of all her woman’s resources to comfort him as one after
-another his dearest hopes were blighted. There was first the death of
-Hoche; then the defeat of the Dutch fleet at Camperdown, and the
-consequent abandonment of the Dutch expedition to Ireland. Then there
-was the rise to supreme military power in France of Bonaparte, whom
-Thomas Addis Emmet later pronounced to be “the greatest enemy the Irish
-people ever had.”
-
-When Bonaparte, on the eve of the Irish Insurrection, sailed to Egypt
-with the army which had been ostensibly collected for an attack on
-England through Ireland, Tone gave up all hope. It was in this frame of
-mind he joined Hardy’s expedition which sailed (in the wake of Humbert’s
-failure, and the fiasco of Napper Tandy’s descent on Rutland Island)
-from the Bay of Cameret on September 20th, 1798. William Tone relates
-that “at the period of this expedition he was hopeless of its success,
-and in the deepest despondency at the prospect of Irish affairs. Such
-was the wretched indiscretion of the [French] Government, that before
-his departure he read himself, in the _Bien Informé_, a Paris newspaper,
-a detailed account of the whole armament, where his own name was
-mentioned in full letters with the circumstance of his being on board
-the _Hoche_. There was therefore no hope of secrecy. He had all along
-deprecated the idea of these attempts on a small scale. But he had also
-declared repeatedly that if the Government sent only a corporal’s guard,
-he felt it his duty to go along with them.... His resolution was,
-however, deliberately and inflexibly taken, in case he fell into the
-hands of the enemy, never to suffer the indignity of a public
-execution.” Of this resolution of her husband’s, Matilda Tone was fully
-informed. For he spoke of it quite plainly in her presence on the
-occasion of a dinner-party given at their house in Paris a few days
-before the departure of the expedition.
-
-And so she let him go from her—knowing full well that she would never
-see him again. How truly had he judged of her—and of himself—when he
-wrote the words: “She is my first object. But would I sacrifice the
-interest of Ireland to her elevation? No that I would not, and if I
-would, she would despise me, and if she were to despise me I would go
-hang myself like Judas.”
-
- * * * * *
-
-His body was lying under the green sod in Bodenstown Churchyard when his
-last message to her was delivered. How did she ever bear to read the
-lines he penned in his prison cell, when even now at this distance of
-time, we who knew him not at all can hardly see them for our tears?
-
- “Provost Prison—Dublin Barracks,
- “_Le 20 Brumaire, an 7_ (10 Nov.’98).
-
- “Dearest Love,—The hour is at last come when we must part. As no
- words can express what I feel for you and our children, I shall
- not attempt it; complaint of any kind would be beneath your
- courage and mine; be assured I will die as I have lived, and
- that you will have no cause to blush for me.”
-
- “I have written on your behalf to the French Government, to the
- Minister of Marine, to General Kilmaine and to Mr. Shee. With
- the latter I wish you especially to advise. In Ireland I have
- written to your brother Harry, and to those of my friends who
- are about to go into exile, and who, I am sure, will not abandon
- you.
-
- “Adieu, dearest love: I find it impossible to finish this
- letter. Give my love to Mary; and above all things, remember
- that you are now the only parent of our dearest children, and
- that the best proof you can give of your affection for me will
- be to preserve yourself for their education. God Almighty bless
- you all.
-
- “Yours ever,
- “T. W. TONE.”
-
- “P.S.—I think you have found a friend in Wilson who will not
- desert you.”
-
- SECOND LETTER
-
- “Dearest Love,—I write just one line to acquaint you that I have
- received assurance from your brother Edward of his determination
- to render every assistance and protection in his power; for
- which I have written to thank him most sincerely. Your sister
- has likewise sent me assurances of the same nature, and
- expressed a desire to see me, which I have refused, having
- determined to speak to no one of my friends, not even my father,
- from motives of humanity to them and myself. It is a very great
- consolation to me that your family are determined to support
- you; as to the manner of that assistance, I leave it to their
- affection for you, and your own excellent good sense, to settle
- what manner will be most respectable for all parties.
-
- “Adieu, dearest love. Keep your courage as I have kept mine; my
- mind is as tranquil at this period as at any period of my life.
- Cherish my memory; and especially preserve your health and
- spirits for the sake of our dearest children.
-
- “Yours ever affectionately.”
-
- * * * * *
-
-There still remained to Matilda Tone more than fifty years of painful
-pilgrimage on this earth, before she was re-united to the husband—who
-had never ceased to be the lover—of her youth. The story of twenty-eight
-of these years has been told by her son William, and we may fittingly
-leave the tale to his telling, only taking it up again when his voice,
-too, was silenced—and to use her own pathetic phrase, his mother was
-left widowed and childless for twenty years more,
-
- “=Lonely and desolate to mourn her dead.=”
-
- * * * * *
-
- “At the close of this last expedition [_i.e._ Hardy’s], a strict
- embargo reigned on the coasts of England, and no news could
- reach to France but through the distant and indirect channel of
- Hamburg. It was not till the close of November that the report
- of the action of October 11th, of the capture, trial, defence
- and condemnation of Tone, and of the wound which he was reported
- to have inflicted upon himself, reached all at once to Paris. It
- was also stated at first that this wound which he was reported
- to have inflicted upon himself was slight, that the law courts
- had claimed him, that all proceedings were therefore stopped,
- and that there were strong hopes of his recovery. My mother,
- then in the most delicate and precarious state of health, a
- stranger in the land (of which she scarcely spoke the language)
- and without a friend and adviser (for she had ever lived in the
- most retired privacy) rallied, however, a courage and spirits
- worthy of the name she bore. Surmounting all timidity and
- weakness of body as well as of mind, she threw herself instantly
- into a carriage, and drove to the minister of foreign affairs
- (Tallyrand Perigord). She knew that he spoke English and had
- been acquainted with my father both in America and in France. He
- received her with the most lively interest. Cases of this kind
- did not belong to his department, but he promised all the
- support of his credit with the Government, and gave her an
- introduction to the Directory. She immediately called on La
- Reveilliere Lepaux, then president of the Directory, and met
- with a reception equally favourable and respectful. He gave the
- most solemn assurances that my father should be instantly
- claimed; and mentioned in the demand by the name of Tone, by
- that of Smith, and individually as a French officer, lest his
- assumed name should occasion any diplomatic delay; he added that
- the English officers then in the French prisons should be
- confined as hostages to answer for his safety; and that, if none
- were equal to him in rank, the difference should be made up in
- numbers. It was unfortunate that Sir Sidney Smith had then
- escaped from the Temple. As soon as these papers were drawn, La
- Reveilliere Lepaux addressed her with them to the minister of
- marine, Bruix, who assured her that preliminary steps had
- already been taken, and that these despatches should be
- forwarded in the course of the same day. From thence she called
- on Schimmelpennick, the Dutch ambassador, who gave her similar
- assurances that my father should be claimed in the name of the
- Batavian republic, in whose service he bore the same rank as in
- the French. She wrote for the same purpose to his friend,
- Admiral Dewinter, and to General Kilmaine, commander-in-chief of
- the army in which he served; they both gave the same promises in
- return.
-
- “To the French ministers, my mother expressed, at the same time,
- her determination to join and nurse her husband in his prison,
- taking my young sister along with her, and leaving my brother
- and myself to the care of my aunt [_i.e._ Mary Tone, now Madame
- Giacque]. For she did not expect that even these efforts would
- obtain his release, but probably a commutation of his fate to a
- confinement which she wished to share. It may well be believed
- that these reclamations excited the most lively and universal
- interest. All the credentials and all the means which she could
- wish, were furnished to her, and she was already on her way to
- embark for Ireland, when the news of his death arrived and put a
- stop to all further proceedings. It would be needless to dilate
- upon, and impossible to express, her feelings on the occasion.
-
- * * * * *
-
- “In the first moments after the death of my father the interest
- excited by his fate, and by the state of his family was
- universal. The Directory instantly passed a decree by which an
- immediate aid of 1,200 francs, from the funds of the navy, and
- three month’s pay from the war department, were assigned to his
- widow, and she was requested to produce her titles to a regular
- pension. At the same time, Bruix and Tallyrand (to the latter of
- whom, whatever character be assigned him in history, we
- certainly owe gratitude for the lively and disinterested part he
- took in our fate, on the few but important occasions on which we
- addressed him) proposed, the first, to take charge of my
- brother, and the other of me. Kilmaine, who had no children,
- proposed to adopt us both. But, grateful as my mother felt for
- those offers, she declined them, determined never to part from
- her children; and to fulfil, to the last, the solemn engagement
- under which she considered herself bound, to superintend their
- education; she did not wish them to be bred as favourites and
- dependants in great families; and trusted rather to the
- gratitude of the nation to give them a public, simple and manly
- education, as an homage to their father’s services. These
- gentlemen entered into her views; and on their demand, the
- Directory decreed that the sons of Theobald Wolfe Tone, adopted
- by the French republic, should be educated at the national
- expense, in the Prytaneum.
-
- “The pensions which the executive had, constitutionally, a power
- to grant to the widows and families of officers killed on the
- field of battle, were limited by law according to the rank of
- these officers, and to the length of time during which they had
- served. According to this law, the pension to which my mother
- was entitled, amounted only to 300 francs, or little more than
- £12 sterling a year. This she refused either to demand or
- accept. But in special cases the legislature had reserved to
- itself the right of granting pensions to any amount. Ours was a
- very special case; but it was necessary to address the council
- of four hundred on the subject. Official delays intervened; it
- was difficult to collect at once all the legal proofs required;
- the business was therefore dropped for the present; and indeed
- in the varying and shifting movement of that most unstable of
- governments, no single object, however interesting at first,
- could fix the public attention for a period of any duration. In
- a few months three of the directors were expelled by their
- colleagues, and replaced by others; the affairs of Ireland, Tone
- and his family, and the fatal indiscretion of Humbert, who now
- returned from captivity, were all forgotten in the disasters of
- Italy and Germany, and the victories of Suwarrow and Prince
- Charles of Austria.
-
- “In the meantime, withdrawing from the interest she had excited,
- my mother retired almost in the precincts of the university, to
- be near her children, and superintend their education. This was
- the most quiet and distant quarter of Paris, and farthest from
- the bustle of the great and fashionable world. On the style in
- which we lived, I will only observe, that we saw no company,
- English nor French; and that my mother, attending exclusively to
- the education of her daughter, and to the superintendence of her
- two boys, who dwelt in the college beneath her eyes, was under
- the protection of that body as much as if she had been a member
- of it. Such was the esteem, confidence and, I would almost say,
- veneration with which she inspired its director and professors,
- that contrary to the severe regulations of French discipline,
- they trusted us entirely to her care. Indeed, we were all so
- young and so helpless, that we were general favourites, and the
- whole of our little family seemed adopted by the establishment.
-
- “It was nearly a year from my father’s fate; our permanent
- provision was yet unsettled, and our slender means could not
- last many months longer; when my mother, reading some old papers
- in her solitude, fell on a beautiful speech pronounced some
- months before in the council of five hundred, by Lucien
- Buonaparte. He proposed to simplify the forms of paying the
- pensions of the widows and children of military and naval
- officers; he represented in the most noble and feeling terms the
- hardship of high-spirited females and mothers of families, whose
- claims were clear and undoubted, obliged, in the affliction and
- desolation of their hearts, to solicit and go through numberless
- delays in the public offices. He also proposed to augment these
- pensions, which were too small. The sons of warriors killed on
- the field of battle ceased to receive them when they reached
- their fourteenth year; he proposed to extend this period to the
- age when they might, in their turn, enter the service.
-
- “Several months had been necessary, to collect the proofs,
- certificates and documents required by law, for making an
- application to the legislature; or, indeed, before my mother was
- able to attend to it. Nor did she know one member of the Council
- of five hundred, to present them to when they were ready. In
- reading this speech of Lucien, she felt that he was the person
- she ought to address. My father had been known to his brother,
- when he commanded the army of England; and he was one of the
- representatives. She immediately wrote a note to him, to know
- when she might have the honour of waiting upon him on particular
- business? He answered that his public duties left only the hours
- of ten in the morning or seven in the evening, unemployed; but
- that at either of these, he would be happy to receive her. In
- consequence, next morning, taking with her, her children, her
- papers and the report of his speech, she called upon him and
- presented to him that speech as her letter of introduction. He
- was highly touched and flattered. She gave him all her papers
- and showed him her children. He was much moved, and said he knew
- the story well, and had been deeply affected by it, which
- sentiment he only shared in common with every one who had heard
- of it; that it was the duty of the French legislature to provide
- for the family of Tone honourably; and thanked her for the
- distinction conferred upon him, by choosing him to report on the
- case. My mother mentioned the difficulties she lay under, an
- unconnected stranger, scarcely understanding the language. He
- stopped her by requesting her to take no more trouble; that he
- would charge himself with it entirely, and get the permission of
- the executive which would be necessary; and if he wanted any
- particulars from her, would write to her for them. Nothing could
- be more delicate or generous than his whole manner.
-
- “Next morning, Madame Lucien Buonaparte called upon my mother,
- and introduced herself.... An acquaintance commenced which only
- terminated at her death a few months afterwards.
-
- “The report of Lucien Buonaparte was still delayed for some
- time. He had some papers to collect to prove my father’s
- services. Carnot was in banishment; Hoche was dead; poor
- Kilmaine, who ever since my father’s death had expressed a warm
- interest in our fate, was dying. In the ravings of fever he
- would insist on putting horses to his carriage, and driving with
- us to the Directory and council of five hundred, to reproach
- them with their delays in providing for the widow and children
- of Tone. General Simon ... gave the necessary attestations. The
- permission of the Directory was obtained; but Lucien, in order
- to produce a greater effect, still delayed till the period of
- his own Presidency....
-
- “On the 9th of Brumaire, only nine days before the revolution
- which put an end to the Directory and placed his brother at the
- head of affairs, Lucien, then president of the council of five
- hundred, pronounced at length a beautiful speech, which may be
- called the funeral oration of my father. At the close of which a
- committee was immediately appointed, to report on the subject of
- a pension and permanent provision for the widow and family of
- General Tone.”
-
- We will interrupt William Tone’s narrative, for a moment, in
- order to reproduce, in part, Lucien Buonaparte’s oration, and to
- show the reverence the name of Tone inspired in France, and the
- enthusiasm the lofty spirit and heroism, the conjugal and
- maternal devotion of Matilda aroused in generous Gallic breasts.
-
- “Representatives of the People,—I rise to call your attention to
- the widow and children of a man whose memory is dear and
- venerable to Ireland and to France—the Adjutant-General Theobald
- Wolfe Tone, founder of the United Irish Society, who, betrayed
- and taken in the expedition to Ireland, perished in Dublin,
- murdered by the illegal sentence of a court-martial.
-
- “Wolfe Tone only breathed for the liberty of his country. After
- attempting every means to break the chains of British oppression
- at home, he was invited by our Government to France, where from
- the beginning of the fifth year of the Republic, he bore arms
- under our colours. His talent and his courage announced him as
- the future Washington of Ireland; his arm, whilst assisting in
- our battles, was preparing to fight for his own country....
-
- “It is precisely one year ago to the very day of the month that
- a court-martial was assembled in Dublin to try a general officer
- in the service of our Republic. Let us examine the papers of
- that day.” [Here the orator read the account of the trial and
- defence of General Tone. He then resumed.]
-
- “You have heard the last word of this illustrious martyr of
- liberty. What could I add to them? You see him, dressed in your
- own uniform, in the presence of this murderous tribunal, in the
- midst of this awe-struck and affected assembly. You hear him
- exclaim: ‘After such sacrifices in the cause of liberty it is no
- great effort, at this day, to add the sacrifice of my life. I
- have courted poverty; I have left a beloved wife unprotected,
- and children whom I adored, fatherless.’ Pardon him, if he
- forgot, in those last moments that you were to be the fathers
- and protectors of his Matilda and his children.
-
- “Sentenced amidst the tears and groans of his country, Wolfe
- Tone would not leave to her tyrants the satisfaction of seeing
- him expire by a death which the prejudices of the world call
- ignominious.... The day will yet, doubtless, come, when, in that
- same city of Dublin, and on the spot where the satellites of
- Britain were rearing that scaffold where they expected to wreak
- their vengeance on Theobald the free people of Ireland will
- erect a trophy to his memory, and celebrate, yearly, on the
- anniversary of his trial, the festival of their union, around
- his funeral monument. For the first time this anniversary is now
- celebrated within these walls. Shade of a hero! I offer to thee,
- in our name, the homage of our deep, of our universal emotion.
-
- “A few words more—on the widow of Theobald, on his children.
- Calamity would have overwhelmed a weaker soul. The death of her
- husband was not the only one she had to deplore. His brother was
- condemned to the same fate, and perished on the scaffold.
-
- “If the services of Tone were not sufficient of themselves to
- rouse your feelings, I might mention the independent spirit and
- firmness of that noble woman, who, on the tomb of her husband
- and of his brother, mingles with her sighs aspirations for the
- deliverance of Ireland. I would attempt to give you an idea of
- that Irish spirit which is blended in her countenance with the
- expression of her grief. Such were those women of Sparta, who on
- the return of their countrymen from battle when, with anxious
- looks, they ran over the ranks, and missed amongst them their
- sons, their husbands, and their brothers, exclaimed: ‘He died
- for his country; he died for the republic.’”
-
- * * * * *
-
-Strangely enough, the revolution which placed Napoleon in power as First
-Consul, instead of helping the fortunes of Matilda Tone and her
-children, had an adverse effect on them. Lucien broke with his brother,
-as soon as he saw the true direction of the latter’s aims, and in
-consequence a cause to which he lent his support had little chance of
-finding favour with the First Consul. For the next five years Tone’s
-widow and orphans might have died of starvation had it not been for the
-generosity of Mr. Wilson, of Dullatur. “He was,” says William Tone, “to
-my mother a brother, an admirer and a friend; he managed her slender
-funds; and when sickness and death hovered over our little family, he
-was our sole support.” Lucien Buonaparte also did what he could out of
-his personal resources—and Theobald’s brother, William, who had cut a
-way for himself with his sword in India, sent his sister-in-law and
-nephews and niece a generous draft. He would have provided for them had
-not his death prevented the accomplishment of his plans.
-
-The arrival of some of the Fort George prisoners in France, including
-Tom Russell, Thomas Addis Emmet, and Dr. MacNevin—all Tone’s dear
-friends—reminded Napoleon of the existence of Tone’s wife and children.
-As if in answer to Emmet’s reproachful question: “how could they trust
-that government when they saw the widow of Tone unprovided for?”
-Napoleon (who was anxious to use the Irish in his new war with England
-and was organising his Irish Brigade) granted Matilda a pension of 1,200
-livres, and 400 to each of her three children until their twentieth
-year. In this same year a subscription was got up for the family in
-Ireland—to which John Keogh and the Earl of Moira, among others of
-Tone’s old friends, ostentatiously refused to subscribe.
-
-So starvation was kept off a little longer. But the privations of the
-preceding years had told heavily on poor Maria Tone, now a beautiful
-girl of sixteen. In 1804, her mother had the great grief of losing her
-through consumption.
-
-In 1806 poor little Frank died—and now no one was left to console his
-mother but William.
-
-Mother and son were all in all to each other. As he moved from the
-Lyceum to the Imperial Cavalry School of Saint Germains, she moved her
-lodgings at the same time to be near him. All his academic successes
-were valued by him only in so far as they gave pleasure to his mother.
-In the essay with which, in leaving the Lyceum, he competed for the
-“Prize of the Institute,” he pays a noble and touching tribute to all he
-owes to her, to all she has done for him. On her part, her thoughts were
-occupied entirely by his advancement and his interests. For his sake she
-surmounted her natural timidity, and sought out an interview with the
-Emperor, in order to recommend her son to his favour.
-
-Young Tone served under the Imperial Colours during three campaigns. On
-the fall of Napoleon he resigned his commission, and in the following
-year, passed over to America.
-
-Before he left Paris he induced his mother to accept the offer of
-marriage made her by their faithful friend and benefactor of so many
-years, Mr. Wilson, of Dullatur. On August the 19th, 1816, they were
-married in the chapel of the British Ambassador at Paris; and shortly
-after set sail, _via_ Scotland, for America.
-
-Mr. Wilson bought an estate at Georgetown, near Washington, and here
-there was always a home for William when the duties of his military
-career allowed it—for he had been appointed to a captaincy in the United
-States Army. In 1825 he married the daughter of William Sampson, and
-after retiring from the army, his wife and he took up their abode with
-his mother in Georgetown. Mr. Wilson had died a little before.
-
-Alas! Sorrow had not yet done with Matilda Tone, on October the 10th,
-1828, she lost her son.
-
-We know little of her for the twenty-one years of life that still
-remained to her. We learn from Madden that every year her
-daughter-in-law and grand-daughter paid her a visit; and we know that up
-to extreme old age she retained that strength and energy of mind, that
-vigour of intellect, that passionate devotion to the husband of her
-youth which had characterised her in the long ago. A letter she wrote to
-the _Truth-Teller_, on the appearance of the first edition of Madden’s
-_United Irishmen_ (1842) gives evidence of this.
-
-She died in Georgetown on March 18th, 1849.
-
-Shall the day ever come when Ireland a Nation, remembering this woman
-and all she suffered for her, shall claim her remains from America, and
-lay them to rest in the place where her husband lies lonely: in his
-green grave in Bodenstown Churchyard?
-
-
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
-
-
-
-
- The Wife of Thomas Addis Emmet
-
- JANE EMMET, _née_ PATTEN (1771-1846)[70]
-
- “And the track of my true love’s feet is the track that my heart
- would follow.”—_Old Irish Love Song._
-
-Footnote 70:
-
- _Authorities_: Madden’s “United Irishmen” (Third Series, Second
- Edition); Dr. T. A. Emmet’s “Emmet Family.”
-
-
-SO exquisitely has the story of “the Broken Heart” been told, to such
-haunting strains of melodious sorrow has it been sung, that the whole
-world has wept over the tragic loves of Robert Emmet and Sarah Curran,
-But even in Ireland, it is rare to find anyone familiar with the romance
-of Thomas Addis Emmet; and—to our shame be it told!—the heroic devotion
-and self-sacrifice of his wife, Jane Emmet, which ought to be a
-household tale, a constant inspiration to our womanhood, is less known
-than the tale of some alien queen—Philippa or another. What’s Philippa
-to us, or we to Philippa? Or why should the heroism of our own women be
-forgotten, while our voices swell the chorus that praises the heroism of
-the stranger?
-
-We have already learned in our memoir of Elizabeth Emmet, that her son,
-Thomas Addis, shortly after having been called to the Bar, married, in
-1791, Miss Jane Patten, the twenty-year-old daughter of Rev. John
-Patten, of Annerville (near Clonmel), and his wife Margaret Colville.
-After Rev. Mr. Patten’s death in 1787, his widow, with her children,
-Jane and John, came to live in Dublin where her brother, Mr. Colville
-was a wealthy merchant, and in this city Thomas Addis Emmet met Miss
-Patten. It is probable enough that the intimacy between the
-families—which was very affectionate—was of longer standing; for both
-the Colvilles and the Emmets were Tipperary folk.
-
-In a letter to his daughter Elizabeth, written on the eve of the
-latter’s marriage to Mr. Le Roy, Thomas Addis Emmet recalls the
-happiness it gave him when, as a young husband, he witnessed the
-tenderness with which his father and mother took to their hearts, as a
-veritable new daughter, the bride he had brought home to them: “To this
-day,” he writes (and “this day” was forty years after the event to which
-his memory goes back) “I remember I never loved your Mother so much, or
-looked at her with so much delight, as when I saw from my father’s and
-mother’s actions that they cherished her as their own daughter.”
-
-The tender little phrase throws a pleasing light on the relations that
-existed between the two _ménages_, which shared between them Dr. Emmet’s
-fine mansion on Stephen’s Green. Shortly after his son’s marriage the
-doctor divided his house (No. 109 Stephen’s Green, West) into two
-separate dwellings, keeping the corner house for himself, and assigning
-the other to the young couple. In this inner house Jane Emmet’s elder
-children, Robert (September 8th, 1792), Margaret (September 21st, 1793),
-Elizabeth (December 4th, 1794), John Patten (April 8th, 1796), Thomas
-Addis (May 29th, 1797) were born.
-
-During the years when her nursery was thus rapidly filling, Jane Emmet’s
-husband was making his mark at the Bar. He was engaged as counsel (with
-Hon. Simon Butler and Leonard MacNally) in the celebrated case of Napper
-Tandy against the Lord Lieutenant, the Lord Chancellor and some members
-of the privy council, who had signed a proclamation offering a reward
-for the apprehension of Tandy. The object of the whole proceedings on
-the part of Tandy’s advisers was “to contest the validity of the Lord
-Lieutenant’s patent, as having been granted under the great seal of
-England, instead of that of the Chancellor of Ireland.” In the course of
-Emmet’s address he caused a sensation by boldly asserting that there had
-been “no legal viceroy in Ireland for the last ten years, and not only
-the counsel for Lord Westmoreland will not deny that fact, but they will
-not dare to let his patent come under a train of legal investigation.”
-
-Other notable cases in which Emmet was engaged included the trial at
-Tralee in 1793 of Lieutenant Carr who had shot a Mr. O’Connell in a
-duel, and the trial of a Mr. O’Driscoll, at Cork assizes in the same
-year, on a charge of seditious libel. In this case Emmet was associated
-with the Sheareses and Leonard MacNally. So successful was he, according
-to his cousin, St. John Mason’s statement to Dr. Madden, that the first
-year of his practice he realised £700.
-
-In 1795 he took the oath of the _United Irishmen_ under very sensational
-circumstances, thus detailed by Madden: “A case occurred before Prime
-Serjeant Fitzgerald, in which a conviction was obtained on a charge of
-administering the United Irishmen’s oath, then a capital offence. Emmet
-appeared for the prisoners on a motion in arrest of judgment. He took up
-the pleadings in which the words of the oath were recited, and he read
-them in a very deliberate manner, and with all the gravity of a man who
-felt that he was binding his soul by the obligations of a solemn oath.
-‘I, Thomas Addis Emmet, in the presence of God, do pledge myself to my
-country that I will use all my abilities and influence in the attainment
-of an impartial and adequate representation of the Irish nation in
-parliament; and as a means and absolute and immediate necessity in the
-establishment of this chief good of Ireland, I will endeavour, as much
-as lies in my ability, to forward a brotherhood of affection, an
-identity of interests, a communion of rights and an union of power,
-among Irishmen of all religious persuasions, without which, every reform
-in parliament must be partial, not national, inadequate to the wants,
-delusive to the wishes, and insufficient to the freedom and happiness of
-this country.’
-
-“Having read the text, and defended its obligations with a power of
-reasoning and a display of legal knowledge, in reference to the subject
-of the distinction between legal and illegal oaths, which the counsel
-for the prosecution described as producing an extraordinary impression,
-he said:
-
-“‘My lords, here in the presence of this legal court, this crowded
-auditory, in the presence of the Being that sees, and witnesses, and
-directs this judicial tribunal—here, my lords, I, myself, in the
-presence of God, declare I take the oath.’ He then took the book, kissed
-it, and sat down. No steps were taken by the court against the
-newly-sworn United Irishman; the amazement of its functionaries left
-them in no fit state of mind either for remonstrance or reproval. The
-prisoners received a very lenient sentence.”
-
-Though Emmet took the oath thus publicly, he was not publicly identified
-with the United Irishmen until a period considerably later. He was
-rarely engaged as their counsel in the trials of 1797 and 1798—acting
-rather as chamber lawyer to their committees. He became a member of the
-directory in 1797 after the arrest of Arthur O’Connor.
-
-But long before that date he had worked for the objects for which the
-United Irishmen were founded, Reform and Emancipation; and he had been
-associated, in the closest manner with their founder. He was a member of
-the political club which Tone formed in the winter of 1790, and Tone
-found him a man completely after his own heart: “of a great and
-comprehensive mind, of the warmest and sincerest affection for his
-friends, and of a steady adherence to his principles, to which he has
-sacrificed much, as I know, and would, I am sure, if necessary,
-sacrifice his life. His opinions and mine square exactly.”
-
-In the autumn of 1792 when Tone was working strenuously for the Catholic
-cause, Emmet gave him invaluable help. His pen was ever ready to assist
-Tone’s in preparing replies on the Catholic side to the bigotry of the
-Grand Juries, or drawing up addresses in which the Catholic position was
-admirably stated. But he did all this work in the shade, so to speak,
-neither seeking nor desiring any reward for it.
-
-We have already learned from Tone how fully Emmet entered into the
-scheme for enlisting French aid towards Irish independence, which Tone
-carried with him on his departure for America in the early summer of
-1795. The “charming villa” which Emmet occupied then at Rathfarnham and
-“the little study of an elliptical form” which he was building at the
-bottom of his lawn, and the “little triangular field” on the way between
-Rathfarnham and Dublin became, from the meeting of the three friends,
-Emmet and Russell and Tone, and the solemn pledge wherewith they bound
-themselves to each other, among the “holy places” of Irish history.
-
-On March 12th, 1798, Government which had already been long in complete
-possession of the plans of the United Irishmen, through the treachery of
-Thomas Reynolds and others, and had allowed them to develop as suited
-its own purposes, suddenly swooped down on the leaders. The arrest of
-the country deputies at the house of Oliver Bond was followed the same
-day by the apprehension of Emmet, Dr. MacNevin, Jackson (Bond’s
-father-in-law) and John Sweetman at their several abodes.
-
-Jane Emmet had just tucked her little ones into their cots and given
-them their good-night kiss, when Alderman Carletown and his escort of
-soldiers invaded the quiet house in Stephen’s Green to carry off her
-children’s father. The loud knocking at the door, the peremptory demand
-for admission “in the king’s name” which heralded the entrance of those
-unbidden guests heralded also the closing of the peaceful happy years of
-Jane Emmet’s young wifehood and maternity. A new life was opening up
-before her, full of sorrows, and hardships and privations, and the
-gently nurtured lady was to discover in the reserves of her character
-the unsuspected materials of a heroine.
-
-The call which roused the heroine in her was brutal enough. In the
-search which the soldiers immediately instituted all through the house
-in quest of documents the nursery was not spared. The children were
-roughly roused from their sleep, and we may judge of the impression
-produced in them by the fact that as long as they lived they never
-forgot it. Thomas Addis Emmet, jun., was only a year-old baby when his
-father was arrested; he was an old man when Dr. Madden knew him, but he
-remembered, as if it had been but yesterday, how, waking suddenly, he
-saw a number of soldiers standing at the window with fixed bayonets
-presented at him and the little brother who was his bed fellow. Nor was
-this the only occasion on which the nursery was invaded by the gallant
-yeomanry. John Patten Emmet told his son, the present Dr. Thomas Addis
-Emmet, that after his father’s arrest, the house was frequently searched
-by the military for the seal of the United Irishmen. During one of these
-searches he and his little brothers were wakened by a bright light in
-the nursery, and became greatly frightened on seeing a soldier stand
-guard within the door. “As soon as the man saw the child was awake, with
-the instinct of a brute he pointed his musket at him as if about to
-shoot. The children naturally got under the bed-clothing as quickly as
-possible, and in their terror did not dare to move, being more dead than
-alive, until the soldiers had left the house and their grandmother could
-come to them.”[71]
-
-Footnote 71:
-
- “The Emmet Family,” pp. 64-65. The seal, which was designed by Robert
- Emmet, and is still in the possession of the Emmet family, was carried
- by Mrs. T. A. Emmet on her person during the whole time Government was
- in search of it.
-
-The poor grandmother had to take for the frightened children the place
-of both father and mother. The father after being brought to the Castle,
-was committed to Newgate where about twenty of the other leaders were
-confined. Here his wife managed to gain admission to him—“by stealth,”
-and “against the most positive orders,” as Lord Castlereagh told Lady
-Louisa Connolly when, a couple of months later, she sought permission
-for Pamela to see Lord Edward. “The cell in which Thomas Addis Emmet was
-confined,” we learn from Dr. Madden, was about twelve feet square. Jane
-Emmet managed to secrete herself in this wretched abode for some days,
-one of the turnkeys who had charge of Emmet’s cell being privy to her
-concealment. Her husband shared his scanty allowance with her; and there
-a lady, bred in the lap of luxury, accustomed to all the accommodations
-that are possessed by one in her sphere in life, used to all the
-comforts of a happy home, familiarised to the affectionate care and kind
-attentions of an amiable family, daily blessed with the smiling faces of
-her dear children—“one who had slept with full content about her bed,
-and never waked but to a joyful morning”—shared the dungeon of her
-husband: its gloom, its dreary walls, its narrow limits, its dismal
-aspect—things and subjects for contemplation which her imagination a few
-weeks before would have sickened at the thought of—were now endured as
-if they affected her not; her husband was there, and everything else in
-this world, except her fears for his safety and for separation from him,
-were forgotten; her acts said to him:
-
- “Thou to me
- Art all things under heaven, all places thou.”
-
-“The gaoler at length discovered that Mrs. Emmet was an inmate of her
-husband’s cell. She was immediately ordered to quit the place; but to
-the astonishment of the officers of the prison who were not accustomed
-to have their orders disobeyed, she told them ‘_her mind was made up_’
-to remain with her husband, and she would not leave the prison. The
-gaoler, whom Emmet speaks of as a man of unfeeling and ruffianly
-deportment, stood _awestricken_ before a feeble, helpless creature whom
-he had only to order one of his myrmidons to tear from the arms of her
-husband, and his bidding would have been obeyed. The power of a
-brave-spirited woman is seldom put forth that it does not triumph....
-The gaoler retired; and Emmet was given to understand that the man had
-orders from his superiors not to employ force, but the first time that
-Mrs. Emmet left the prison she was not to be permitted to return. No
-such opportunity for her exclusion was afforded by that lady. She
-continued to share her husband’s captivity for many months. But once in
-that time she left the prison and then only to visit her sick child,
-when she appealed to the wife of the gaoler ‘as the mother of a family’
-to take pity on her wretchedness, struggling as she was between her duty
-to her husband and the yearnings of nature towards her sick child.... It
-cheers one to find that this appeal was not made in vain. At midnight
-this woman conducted Mrs. Emmet through the apartments of the gaoler to
-the street. The following night, after remaining with her child at the
-house of Dr. Emmet during the day, she returned to the gaol, gained
-admittance by the same means, and “was on the point of entering her
-husband’s cell when one of the keepers discovered her; but too late to
-exclude her from prison. From that time she availed herself no more of
-the same facility for leaving or entering prison. During her absence her
-room had been visited by one of the keepers, a not infrequent
-occurrence; the curtains had been drawn round the bed, some bundles of
-clothing placed under the coverlid, and the keeper was requested to
-tread lightly, as Mrs. Emmet was suffering from headache. Shortly after
-this occurrence Emmet and MacNevin were removed to Kilmainham, and Mrs.
-Emmet found means to gain access to her husband, and the authorities
-connived at her sojourn in his dungeon.”[72]
-
-Footnote 72:
-
- Madden’s “United Irishmen” (Second Edition), Third Series, pp. 51-53.
- Madden learned these particulars from Jane Emmet’s children in
- America, and her brother John Patten.
-
-In October, 1798, Jane Emmet’s sixth child, Christopher, was born, and
-it seems probable that having returned to her home for the occasion, it
-was not considered prudent for her to go back to the hardships of
-Kilmainham. Moreover, ever since the State Prisoners had, in order to
-save effusion of blood, entered into terms with Government in July,
-1798, it was expected that Emmet and his fellow-prisoners would soon be
-allowed to go to America. Rufus King, however, the resident minister of
-the United States in London, interfered to prevent the execution of
-these designs—and one more “scrap of paper” was torn into fragments.
-Instead of being set at liberty and allowed to emigrate to the United
-States, in accordance with Government’s formal pledge, the Irish State
-Prisoners were kept in gaol for no less than four years longer.
-
-On March 18th, 1799, the prisoners were notified to prepare for
-embarkation to an unknown destination the following morning. When the
-news reached the Emmet household Mary Anne Emmet, acting with that
-spirit which showed her the true sister of Thomas Addis and Robert,
-hastened to the Castle and obtained an interview with Lord Cornwallis.
-The viceroy was touched by her pleading, and assured her that no harm
-should come to her brother, but he would give her no information as to
-“the place of security” whither Government’s apprehension of a foreign
-invasion impelled them to send the State Prisoners. With the scanty
-comfort conveyed in Cornwallis’s promise that her brother’s treatment,
-as well as that of his companions, should be all his friends and theirs
-could desire, Mary Anne Emmet returned to her parents. She was allowed
-to visit her brother for a short time in Kilmainham that evening to take
-the farewell of him which was destined to be her last.
-
-In another place we shall learn something of the adventures of the
-twenty State prisoners who sailed from Dublin Bay on March the 19th and
-reached their destination, Fort George, in the extreme north of
-Scotland, on April 9th, 1799, and of their life in that fortress during
-the years of their confinement in it.
-
-As may be expected, Jane Emmet made every effort to obtain permission to
-join her husband in Fort George, and her hopes of success were
-stimulated by the fact that others of the State prisoners, especially
-Roger O’Connor, were allowed to have their families with them. The Irish
-Government, however—in other words, Lord Castlereagh—put every obstacle
-in her way, and it was only when she made personal application to the
-Duke of Portland that she obtained the consent she sought. In August,
-1800, escorted by her brother, John Patten, and accompanied by her three
-elder children, Robert, Margaret and Elizabeth, she arrived in Fort
-George. She left her three younger children, John Patten, Thomas Addis
-and baby Christopher, in the charge of their grandfather and
-grandmother, Dr. and Mrs. Emmet, at Casino, Milltown.
-
-The son of one of the little boys thus left behind has culled for us
-from the family correspondence the letters written by old Mrs. Emmet to
-her son and daughter-in-law in Fort George, and though the regrettable
-loss of the letters of Thomas Addis to his parents and those of Jane
-Emmet to her mother, Mrs. Patten, leaves the correspondence incomplete,
-nevertheless sufficient remains to help us to make a connected story.
-
-It was not her husband only whom the arrival at Fort George of Mrs.
-Emmet and her charming children made happy. All the prisoners were
-delightfully excited by the event, and every man of them became their
-devoted slave from the beginning. Each one was anxious to lend a hand in
-the education of the children. Dr. MacNevin, whose Continental education
-had rendered him an accomplished linguist, taught them French; Hudson
-and Cormick gave them music lessons. When little William Neilson joined
-the children some months later, Fort George became a regular academy.
-Thomas Addis Emmet, himself, was the head-master, and his mother
-jokingly refers to Jane as his usher—but all the prisoners were eager to
-secure a post in the school—Dr. Dixon, M. Dowdall, Tennant. There were
-charming theatrical entertainments, too, wherein the children acted, and
-concerts at which Robert Emmet and William Neilson displayed their skill
-on the flute. Samuel Neilson’s letters to his wife never omit a
-reference to Mrs. Emmet and her “delightful children.” It was probably
-Mrs. Emmet who suggested to him to send for his little son, and when the
-boy arrived she mothered him exactly like one of her own children. Once
-the lad fell ill, and Mrs. Emmet’s attentions to him won the fervent
-gratitude of the poor father: “her kindness went beyond what could
-possibly be expected. Fruits, sweetmeats, jellies—everything she could
-think of were sent, and her own personal attendance and advice were
-superadded.”
-
-The Governor of the Fort, the chivalrous old Scottish nobleman and
-soldier, Colonel Stuart, was won over by the sweet womanliness, and the
-maternal and conjugal devotion of Mrs. Emmet. Very shortly after her
-arrival he signified to her husband that, for the sake of her health, to
-which proper exercise was necessary, he would take it upon himself to
-allow her husband to accompany her on walks outside the enclosure of the
-fortress. When Roger O’Connor and his wife and family left Fort George,
-the Governor turned over their suite of rooms to Mrs. Emmet. Once a fire
-broke out at night. The Governor was called up, and on ascertaining that
-no danger was to be apprehended, he instantly ran to Emmet’s apartment
-to remove his apprehension for himself and his family; and the next day
-the following note was addressed to Emmet:
-
-“The lieutenant-governor’s compliments to Mr. Emmet. He hopes Mrs. Emmet
-suffered no inconvenience from the alarm of fire which was given last
-night. As the idea of being locked in may occasion a disagreeable
-sensation to a lady’s mind, in case of any sudden occurrence (though the
-lieutenant-governor flatters himself that none in future will arise), he
-will give directions that the passage door leading to Mr. Emmet’s
-apartments shall not in future be locked, being convinced Mr. Emmet
-would make no improper use of all the doors being left open.”
-
-The letters which came from Casino were eagerly welcomed by Jane Emmet
-and her husband, telling, as they did, so much that they longed to know
-of the little ones left behind. John is Grandmother Patten’s favourite,
-and when he goes to visit her he comes back the proud possessor of “new
-clothes and a great number of Buttons.” “He felt very visibly the
-importance he had acquired by his visit to town, for as soon as he
-returned he desired John Delany should be brought in to play with him,
-as his grandmamma had always a boy on purpose to play with him.” John’s
-slowness, to which there are frequent allusions in the letters, seems to
-have caused a little anxiety to his father, so his grandmother is eager
-to do him justice. “He does not, I assure you, want either observation
-or intellect, he has great natural justice and a very open good-natured
-temper.” We learn from his grandfather that he is at “a crown and a
-quarter school, where he tells me he makes great proficiency, four or
-five lessons a day in his A, B, C, but as yet he does not couple them
-very accurately. John, however, is a very well-disposed, well-tempered
-child, and if he does not mount into the Empyrean galaxy, he will always
-keep the Milky Way of life, and never tread on thorns.” On another
-occasion John is at his grandmother’s elbow while she is writing to
-father and mother and he expressly desires her to tell them that “he is
-a very good boy; that he has gotten a new spelling book from his
-grandmamma Patten, and that he will take care and get his lessons well.”
-All this Grandmamma Emmet is sure “he has sincere intentions of
-performing, tho’ I must confess that in his old spelling-book he is not
-very brilliant. He, however, I am told, performs the part of an usher in
-the school, and acquits himself with great propriety.... John, I think,
-is much better at school, it helps to enliven him and in some measure
-open his ideas; he does not learn any bad habits, and he is very fond of
-it; at home he would be apt to grow sluggish.” As John had not completed
-his _fifth_ year at the time these letters were written, we need not
-share too acutely his absent father’s anxiety about him—especially as
-_we_ from our point of vantage, some six score years later, discern in
-John one of the most brilliant men of his time. When he died—in the
-prime of his manhood, at the age of forty-six, his colleagues of the
-University of Virginia, where he was Professor of Chemistry and Materia
-Medica, paid tribute to him as “the inventive and learned, the ingenuous
-and high-souled John Patten Emmet, one of the earliest supports and one
-of the brightest ornaments of this University.”
-
-If it is curious to find the future distinguished scientist causing
-anxiety to his father for the slow opening of his intellect, it is still
-more curious to find his little brother Tom causing him anxiety because
-some incident related by his grandparents seemed to indicate in the tiny
-boy a selfish disposition. So concerned was the father at some trait of
-childish prudence related by the grandparents for his amusement that he
-had thoughts of taking little Tom to Fort George to educate him under
-his own eyes. Grandmother Emmet has to assure him that what Mary Anne
-and she said “imported nothing more than to convey to you an idea of the
-strength of his intellect, for surely you did not suppose that the
-disposition of a child, not four years old, would do more than to divert
-you instead of giving you sincere alarm. The share of understanding
-which he promises to have will be fully sufficient to overcome his
-little childish dispositions, and without severity he will do what is
-right by only pointing it out to him.” How groundless were his father’s
-fears—and how well justified his grandmother’s confidence, the life of
-Thomas Addis Emmet, junior, sufficiently proves. His nephew and
-namesake, recalling the happy days he and the other young people of his
-generation spent in Mr. Emmet’s lovely home, Mount Vernon, New York,
-tells us that it would not be possible to find a more genial, kindly and
-charitable couple than Mr. and Mrs. Emmet. “The term charitable could be
-applied to him in every sense, as it was difficult for him even to
-suspect a bad motive, and he frequently suffered for his faith in
-others. Later in life Mr. Emmet became embarrassed on account of the
-frequent assistance he had rendered supposed friends and from placing
-too much reliance on their promises.”
-
-It is plain that of the three children confided to their care the
-favourite of Grandfather and Grandmother Emmet is the youngest, little
-Christopher Temple. In this delightful little boy whom everybody in
-kitchen and parlour idolises, is there given back to them the brilliant
-son they had lost by a premature death? The grandfather clearly thinks
-so: “Little Temple, should he live for the germs to open, blossom and
-ripen into fruit, will equal, I think, his namesake uncle.” His
-grandmother is afraid her partiality for him will be reckoned as due to
-his name: “I assure you he is as great a favourite with everyone in the
-family as with me.” “This little Brat is, to be sure, the chief
-favourite through the house; we, however, do not spoil him, and I assure
-you that I fondle him less than the others. Mary Anne caresses him more
-than I do, but at the same time treats him with steadiness; in the
-kitchen he would be commander-in-chief if we did not prevent it. He is
-quite a miniature of our dear little Robert, especially when he holds up
-his hands and says he won’t be bold any more.” Pictures like that of the
-dear little grandson occur in the grandmother’s letters again and again:
-now we see him at table, “fighting in dumb show for his share in his
-grandfather’s claret,” now sturdily claiming his place in his elder
-brother’s games, now climbing on chairs and prating enough for two, now
-riding on Mr. Holmes’s back, and asking to be taken on grandmother’s. “I
-told him that my back was old, but in a little time I offered to take
-him, he would not, he replied in a tone of great tenderness, ‘because
-you have a pain.’ The next night I again asked him if he would come on
-my back, and he at once said he would if I had not a pain.”
-
-Poor little Temple! Like his namesake uncle he was destined to live but
-a short life. He died of yellow fever, at sea, at the age of
-twenty-four, being a Lieutenant in the U.S. Navy.
-
-It was at Fort George that Jane Emmet’s seventh child, a little girl
-called Jane Erin, was born. Some months after her birth the State
-prisoners were released,[73] and dispatched on the Government frigate
-the _Ariadne_, to Cuxhaven, the port for Hamburg. At Hamburg the
-prisoners separated, some to go to America, others to Paris, others to
-Holland, and Dr. MacNevin to Dresden. The Emmets first settled at
-Brussels where Thomas Addis devoted himself to the education of his
-children. At Brussels he heard of his father’s death, and was visited by
-his brother Robert.
-
-Footnote 73:
-
- After peace was signed at Amiens in March, 1802. Their imprisonment
- was changed for banishment.
-
-We know that it was not brotherly affection alone, deep and true as this
-was, that brought Robert Emmet to Brussels at this juncture. The fact
-was that all men saw that the peace between England and France was a
-very “sick” peace indeed, and liable to expire at any moment. The United
-Irishmen, whose organisation had survived the disasters of ’98, were
-waiting their chance of a rupture between the two countries to shake off
-the yoke of England, which the Union had made more intolerable. They had
-encouragement from some of the most influential men in Ireland. Though
-not enamoured of France, which they rightly considered had treated them
-most scandalously,[74] they were ready to bargain for French aid “on
-conditions.” France, on the other hand, was willing to make these terms,
-her only interest in Ireland being to get in a blow at England through
-her.
-
-Footnote 74:
-
- Thomas Addis Emmet told Colonel Dalton who had been sent to open up
- negotiations with him on behalf of the French Government in May, 1803,
- that “France had lost the confidence of Ireland, and the treatment the
- Irish had received in France, ever since the peace ... had excited
- even an aversion.” It is well known that Emmet described Bonaparte “as
- the worst enemy Ireland ever had.” So much for French friendship for
- Ireland, about which certain people would have us so enthusiastic!
-
-It is not the place to tell here how once more France failed Ireland;
-how Robert Emmet was suffered to go to his death without a finger being
-raised to save him; how the Irishmen, who had enlisted in an Irish
-legion in the service of France, on the distinct promise that Augereau
-was to command a great expedition to Ireland, were wantonly deceived.
-
-In the autumn of 1804, Thomas Addis Emmet, whose clear eyes even
-Bonaparte could not long deceive, shook the dust of France from his feet
-and set sail with his wife and the children who had shared their
-imprisonment and exile, for New York.
-
-On November the 11th, 1804, Jane Emmet first set foot on American soil
-on which forty-two years of her life were yet to be spent, and in which
-she was to find a grave. Her health, which had suffered much during her
-sojourn in Fort George, and through the agitations and anxieties which
-attended her life in Brussels and Paris, improved. Her husband whose
-reputation and talents had secured for him the most distinguished
-reception at the hands of the noblest men in America, made his way
-rapidly at the American Bar. The little children from whom she had been
-separated so long: John, and Tom, and Temple, were restored to her. The
-little band of seven was subsequently reinforced by two new arrivals:
-Mary Anne, born in New York in March, 1805, and William Colville, born
-in the same city in April, 1807.
-
-The family correspondence, published by her grandson, Dr. Thomas Addis
-Emmet, gives us a delightful picture of the home-life of Jane Emmet
-during these years. She saw her husband honoured among the noblest of
-the land. She saw her children grow up about her, her girls beautiful
-and accomplished and altogether charming: her sons clever and
-successful, heirs to their father’s unstained integrity, as to his
-commanding abilities. The family had a summer residence on the old
-Middle Road, New York, and a winter abode in town—but the “Middle Road”
-was so attractive that the whole year was not infrequently passed there.
-All sorts of frolics enlivened their stay there, fancy dress balls and
-musical entertainments not to speak of practical jokes, in which the
-humour of the family took intense delight. As the sons and daughters got
-married, the new daughters, and sons thus added served but to widen the
-charming family circle, not to break it up.
-
-In November, 1827, Jane Emmet had the supreme grief of losing her
-husband—a grief which was shared by all America—which “paid his love by
-reverencing his genius.”
-
-Jane Emmet survived her husband nineteen years, dying at the house of
-her son-in-law on November 10th, 1846.
-
-The noble words of Dr. Madden are the fittest tribute to her memory:
-
-“The widow of Thomas Addis Emmet survived her husband nineteen years.
-She had shared in his sorrows and his sufferings—had been his companion
-in prisonment in Kilmainham gaol, and in captivity in Fort George—not
-for days, or weeks, or months, but for years. She had accompanied him in
-exile to the Continent and to the land of his adoption, and there she
-shared in his honours and the felicity of his later years.
-
-“The woman who encountered so many privations and trials as she had
-done—who had been accustomed to all the enjoyments of a happy home, and
-
- ‘Had slept with full content about _her_ bed,
- And never waked but to a joyful morning.’
-
-When deprived of all ordinary comforts, of the commonest appliances of
-these to the humblest state of life, during the imprisonment of her
-husband in Dublin; and was subjected necessarily to many restraints
-during the dreary imprisonments at Fort George—seemed ever to those who
-were the companions of her husband’s captivity as ‘one who, in suffering
-all things, suffered nothing.’ She fulfilled with heroic fortitude the
-duties of a devoted wife towards her husband in all his trials in his
-own country; was the joy and comfort of his life in a foreign land,
-where the exiled patriot, honoured and revered, in course of time rose
-to the first distinction in his profession; she died far away from her
-native land—but her memory should not be forgotten in Ireland.
-
-“This excellent woman, full of years, rich in virtue, surrounded by
-affectionate children—prosperous, happily circumstanced, dutiful and
-loving children to her, worthy of their inheritance of a great name, and
-of the honour that descended to them from the revered memory of her
-truly noble husband—thus terminated in a foreign land a long career,
-chequered by many trials, over which a virtuous woman’s self-sacrificing
-devotion, the courage and constancy of a faithful wife, the force of a
-mother’s love eventually prevailed. The portrait of this lady is in the
-possession of Mr. John Patten.[75] The time may come when this
-intimation may be of some avail. Ireland has its Cornelias, its
-Portias—matrons worthy of association in our thoughts with Cato’s
-daughter, the mother of the children who were the jewels of her
-heart—with the wife of Russell, of Lavalette—but Ireland has no national
-gallery for the pictures and busts of her illustrious children—no
-literature for a record of the ‘noble deeds of women’ of her own land.”
-
-Footnote 75:
-
- Dr. Thomas Addis Emmet informs us that “nothing is now known of this
- portrait.” The two portraits reproduced in his own book were by her
- daughter Elizabeth, Mrs. Le Roy.
-
-
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
-
-
-
-
- The Wife of Samuel Neilson
-
- ANNE NEILSON _née_ _Bryson_ (1763-1811)[76]
-
- “I love you the more, Love, because of their hate.”
- —ETHNA CARBERY.
-
-Footnote 76:
-
- _Authorities_: Madden’s “United Irishmen,” Fourth Series, Second
- Edition.
-
-
-NO woman, of all those whose stories we are recalling to the memory of a
-people in danger of forgetting them, has suffered so much as Mrs.
-Neilson. Not alone had she to see her happy home broken up, the ease and
-comfort to which she had been accustomed both in her father’s and her
-husband’s house, taken from her, her children deprived of their father
-and herself of a helpmate, the turning away from her necessities of
-former friends—but worse than all this she had to endure the intolerable
-pain of knowing that the reward her husband had won even from his own
-countrymen, even from those for whose sake he had sacrificed his all—was
-to be branded as a traitor, and to have his name whispered from mouth to
-mouth as that of one who had betrayed Lord Edward, and sold the secrets
-of his associates to Government to purchase his own safety.
-
-It is with hearts very full, then, that we turn to the appealing and
-lonely figure of this “dear dead woman,” and standing in spirit by her
-grave in Newtownbreda Cemetery we frame passionate prayers that she may
-know her sufferings have not been in vain.
-
-Anne Bryson was born in Belfast in 1763. Her father, William Bryson, was
-a wealthy and highly esteemed merchant of that town, and his daughter
-had all the educational and social advantages which an assured position,
-a refined home and considerable means could give her. In 1785, when she
-had reached her twenty-second year, she married Samuel Neilson, the son
-of a dissenting minister, of Ballyroney in Co. Down. Neilson had been
-resident in Belfast for some time, having been at an early age
-apprenticed to his brother John, a woollen-draper—and doubtless the
-young people had often met at the social functions which enlivened
-Belfast at this period, and of which Mrs. McTier’s letters to her
-brother, Dr. Drennan, give us the most delightful glimpses.[77]
-
-Footnote 77:
-
- Published in Young’s “Historical Notices of Old Belfast,” p. 169, _et
- seq._
-
-After their marriage the young couple set up in business for themselves,
-and Samuel Neilson’s great ability commanded an immediate success. His
-establishment, called “The Irish Woollen Warehouse,” became, we are
-informed, “the most extensive and respectable house in that line in
-Belfast.” Before he had been seven years in business he had amassed a
-considerable fortune, being reckoned in 1792 as worth about £8,000—which
-would be equivalent to nearly £20,000 in our days.
-
-Not with worldly prosperity alone did a kind Providence bless Anne
-Neilson and her husband. Five fair children, four girls and a boy, came
-to grace their fireside. The girls were Anne, Sophia, Jane, and Mary.
-Very dear were they to their father, and very touching the letters he
-was to address to them from prison when the “hard service” of the Poor
-Old Woman was to sever him from them during sorrowful years. Anne and
-Sophia were old enough to bear their heroic part among the “Women of
-’Ninety-Eight,” and many of the most thrilling and interesting incidents
-which Dr. Madden gathered into his precious books were actually
-witnessed, and related to him by them. They spent much time during the
-troubled period with the wife of Oliver Bond in Dublin, and were by that
-means right in the centre of things, so to speak. Dr. Madden was deeply
-touched by the passionate devotion they showed to their father’s memory,
-when about half a century after his death, he sought from them the
-materials for his memoir.
-
-But dear as the girls were, the boy was the light of his life. William
-Bryson Neilson, the only son of Samuel and Anne Neilson, was born in
-1794 and, by all accounts, was an extraordinarily gifted boy. We shall
-hear much of him in the following pages, and find no little interest in
-the story of the days he spent with his father in the stern old northern
-fortress of Fort George, which his presence made for poor Sam Neilson
-almost a place of delight.
-
-The “good years,” as perhaps Anne Neilson was inclined to call them,
-from their contrast with the years which followed, came to an end—with
-so much else—at the outbreak of the French Revolution. Neilson had
-retained from his old “volunteer” days a strong attachment to Liberty,
-which he then interpreted in the terms of the English Revolution of
-1689. The French Revolution gave the word a new meaning for him, and the
-other dissenters of Belfast who shared his views. The “Rights of Man”
-became the Koran of Belfast, as Tone pleasantly observes, and Sam
-Neilson set himself with that logical sequence, which, with him, made
-energetic action follow principle, to secure these “Rights” for his own
-oppressed countrymen.
-
-From 1791, politics absorbed Neilson, and his business was much
-neglected, and finally had to be abandoned. Many anxious moments must
-have been poor Anne Neilson’s during those stirring days when her
-husband, with Tone and Russell and Henry Joy MacCracken, was making
-history. We Irish Catholics ought to cherish a special reverence for her
-memory, and pay her at least a posthumous gratitude, for it was at her
-expense that her husband worked for us. He was the first man in Belfast
-to put Catholic Emancipation in the forefront of the Republican party’s
-programme, and to make of it, with Parliamentary Reform, the principal
-plank in the platform of the _United Irishmen_—the honour of whose
-foundation he shares with Tone.
-
-In 1792 there was established in Belfast to preach the doctrines of the
-new society a memorable paper, _The Northern Star_. Of this paper, to
-the finances of which he had liberally contributed, Neilson was
-appointed the editor. Eventually he became the sole proprietor—with
-disastrous results to his financial position. The paper was repeatedly
-the object of legal proceedings, and apparently to escape the
-consequences of these, the other shareholders got rid of their interest
-in it. Madden tells us that “the various prosecutions carried on against
-it had obliged Neilson to dispose of all his property, and to relinquish
-his business in order to meet the enormous expenses attendant on these
-proceedings, and the unexpected demands arising from them. The other
-proprietors, shortly after the prosecutions, disposed of their shares to
-Neilson, and thus encompassed with peril he became the sole proprietor
-of the paper. In 1792 the printer and proprietors had been prosecuted
-and acquitted. In January, 1793, six informations were filed in King’s
-Bench against them for seditious libels, and in November, 1794, they
-were prosecuted for publishing the address of the United Irishmen to the
-Volunteers.”
-
-It was not alone through the medium of the _Northern Star_ that Neilson
-served the cause of the Catholics. He was active in his efforts to
-compose the differences between the Catholics and the Presbyterians, and
-to lay the feuds of the Peep o’ Day Boys and the Defenders. We learn
-from Tone’s diary that both Neilson and his wife were of the party which
-accompanied John Keogh and the other Catholic delegates, on their return
-from Belfast in July, 1732, to Rathfriland in order to meet some
-gentlemen of the neighbourhood with a view to restoring peace between
-the rival religious parties. He took part, with Tone and Keogh, in a
-similar expedition a month later. He was intensely interested in the
-work of the Catholic Committee and the plans for the Catholic
-Convention.
-
-It was probably in this connection that he became so intimate with Luke
-Teeling, of Lisburn, and his family, though their relations dated from a
-still earlier period when both men were working heart and soul to return
-to Parliament, as representative of the Co. Down, that ardent Reform
-candidate, the Hon. Robert Stewart—better known to history as Lord
-Castlereagh.
-
-In 1795 the terrible condition of affairs in the County Armagh, where
-the Catholics had been subjected to a barbarous persecution at the hands
-of the Peep o’ Day Boys without the slightest attempt on the part of the
-authorities, either to protect them or to restrain their savage
-aggressors, was rapidly reaching a tragic climax. Young Charles Teeling,
-then a lad of seventeen, got information that the Catholics, convinced
-that they could not be worse off than they were, were preparing to take
-the field openly against their intolerant foes. Relying on the influence
-which his family, from its standing, enjoyed among the Catholics of
-Armagh, he set off from Lisburn, without informing any one, in the hope
-of inducing the Defenders to desist from their disastrous purpose.
-
-He had not gone far, however, when he felt the need of some more mature
-and experienced head than that which sat on his own seventeen-year-old
-shoulders. His mind could suggest “none more desirable for the purpose
-than Samuel Neilson. He was the ardent patriot, the decided enemy to
-oppression in every shape and in every form; and the strenuous advocate,
-at all times and seasons, for the unqualified admission of his excluded
-fellow-countrymen, to their full participation in the blessings of civil
-and religious liberty. He was at the head of the, then, only liberal
-Press in Ulster; and his political influence however extended, was not
-more than commensurate with his labours in the public cause.”
-
-Teeling wrote to Neilson begging him to meet him in Portadown and thence
-to accompany him to the scene of the disturbances. Neilson complied
-without delay, but before he reached Portadown he was met by Teeling
-with the news that the Battle of Diamond had been fought, and that their
-intervention was too late.
-
-In September, 1796, both Teeling and Neilson with Russell and others
-were arrested, conveyed to Dublin and lodged in Newgate and Kilmainham.
-A few weeks afterwards the two McCrackens were added to the company of
-Northern prisoners.
-
-After a few months Lord O’Neill obtained from Government permission for
-the prisoners to see their wives. Charles Teeling informs us of his
-surprise at finding that Neilson was not disposed to avail himself of
-this permission. “Neilson had a tender affection for his wife, and she
-merited all the respect and attachment he could feel; yet he positively
-prohibited her visiting his prison. ‘I cannot,’ said he, ‘suffer you to
-undertake a long and fatiguing journey at this season of the year to
-visit me in my cell. Here your nerves will be shocked by the brutality
-of a turnkey, and at the Castle your pride will be wounded by the
-insolence of a minion in office.’ His prohibition, however, did not
-avail. He addressed his letter through the usual channel, the office of
-the Secretary of State; but the faithful partner of his affections had
-already procured an order of admission to the prison.”[78]
-
-Footnote 78:
-
- Teeling’s “Personal Narrative,” pp. 29, 30.
-
-During the seventeen months for which her husband’s captivity lasted,
-Mrs. Neilson and her elder daughters spent much time in Dublin, where
-the hospitable homes of James Dixon, of Kilmainham, and Mr. and Mrs.
-Oliver Bond, were ever ready to receive them.
-
-It is sad to relate that the nervous strain to which the prisoners in
-Kilmainham were subjected told on the temper of most of them, and in the
-irritation of their spirits they quarrelled with each other. A serious
-estrangement broke out, in particular, between Neilson and Henry Joy
-McCracken. But Margaret and Mary McCracken and Mrs. Neilson, using their
-gentle womanly influence, succeeded in effecting a reconciliation.
-
-On February 22nd, 1798, Neilson was liberated on bail on condition “that
-he should not belong to any treasonable committee.”
-
-The long confinement, the anxiety about his family, the grief and rage
-he felt at the news of the ruin of his property, and the suppression of
-his paper had told heavily on Neilson’s bodily and mental health. He
-came out of prison a wreck of his former self. His kind friend, Mr. John
-Sweetman, took him to his country house and lavished on him every care
-which might restore him. But the times were unpropitious for the “rest
-cure” which poor Neilson’s shattered nerves demanded.
-
-Three weeks after his release, on March the 12th, 1798, the Government
-swooped down on the leaders of the United Irishmen and by midnight of
-that memorable day had all of them, practically, with the single
-exception of Lord Edward, safe under lock and key. John Sweetman was
-arrested at his brewery in Francis Street—and it became known to Neilson
-that his own re-arrest was merely a matter of time.
-
-Neilson considered that the Government’s breach of faith towards him
-absolved him from his engagement to them—and from this time forth he
-threw himself, with a feverish energy his debilitated frame could ill
-support, into the service of the Union. According to his own statement,
-“he was very active in procuring that the vacancies caused by the arrest
-at Bond’s should be filled up, attended several committees belonging to
-the union, delivered some messages from Lord Edward Fitzgerald, and
-together with his Lordship, was stopped by a patrol near Palmerstown,
-and liberated after being a short time in custody, owing to the
-ignorance of the officer respecting our persons.” A Northern delegate
-reported at a provincial meeting in Belfast that Neilson “was riding
-almost night and day, organising the people; and scarcely any person
-knew where he slept.”
-
-During the time between March the 12th and Lord Edward’s arrest on May
-the 19th, Neilson constantly visited his Lordship at his various places
-of concealment. Miss Moore long afterwards told Dr. Madden that “no
-matter how depressed Lord Edward was, the appearance of Neilson always
-brightened him up.”
-
-On the day Lord Edward was arrested at Murphy’s, Neilson visited him and
-told him that he had seen a party of soldiers pass up the street. He
-dined with Lord Edward and, according to Murphy, as soon as the dinner
-was over hurried away, as if a sudden recollection had occurred to him,
-leaving the door open behind him. Through this door an hour later
-entered Major Sirr and his party. “Lord Edward’s arrest following so
-immediately Neilson’s exit, his restlessness during dinner, his
-‘fidgety’ demeanour at the moment of leaving the house, and the strange
-circumstance of the door being found open by Major Sirr, were
-circumstances that caused Neilson’s conduct to be freely canvassed; and
-those who were in the secret of the treachery which really led to the
-capture of the prisoner took care to let suspicion light and rest on
-those whom it was thought desirable to bring into odium with their own
-party. Neilson and Murphy were made the scape-goats of the infamy of the
-memorable F. H. whose initials have finally been identified with the
-name of Francis Higgins, one of the worst men of the worst period of our
-history.”
-
-It makes our heart bleed for poor Anne Neilson and her children when we
-think of this terrible imputation being cast on him whose only fault was
-that he loved his country before all else!
-
-On the night of May the 23rd, that fixed for the general rising, Neilson
-was re-arrested outside Newgate, where he was reconnoitring, with a view
-to leading an attack on this Irish Bastille, and inaugurating the
-projected Irish Revolution after the French model, by the liberation of
-Lord Edward and the other chiefs imprisoned in it. Unfortunately Neilson
-was too well known to the prison authorities for his presence in the
-neighbourhood not to excite suspicion. He was taken prisoner by a file
-of soldiers after a desperate resistance and lodged in gaol in a
-pitiable condition of body, but his mind more determined to resist
-tyranny than ever. Grattan told his son that when Neilson was taken, his
-clothes were torn off him, his body wounded all over by the soldiers
-hacking at him, he was cut and scarred in upwards of fifty places, and
-was only saved by the number of his assailants.
-
-On June the 26th, bills of indictment were sent up for high treason
-against Samuel Neilson, the two Sheareses, John McCann, William Michael
-Byrne, and Oliver Bond. Counsel were named by all the prisoners except
-Neilson, who refused to name any. We find in the Life of Grattan by his
-son a graphic description of the scene in court to which Neilson was
-brought heavily ironed. “When brought into court the noise of his
-entrance was like the march of men in irons. He was called on to plead,
-and asked if he had anything to say; he replied in a stentorian voice,
-‘No! I have been robbed of everything—I could not fee counsel; my
-property—everything has been taken from me,’ and he turned away. But he
-came again to the front of the dock, and said, ‘For myself I have
-nothing to say; _I scorn your power, and despise that authority that it
-shall ever be my pride to have opposed_; but I may say—not that I value
-it—why am I kept with these weighty irons on me, so heavy that three
-ordinary men could scarcely carry them? Is it your law that I should be
-placed in irons, and in such irons?’”
-
-The execution of the Sheareses took place on July 14th, that of McCann
-on the 19th. In order to save the lives of Byrne and Bond, Neilson with
-some others of the State prisoners consented to enter into terms with
-Government. Byrne, in spite of these negotiations, was executed on July
-28th, and Oliver Bond died, under very suspicious circumstances, after
-having been respited.
-
-The circumstances attending Bond’s death, and the chagrin caused by the
-Government’s perfidy with regard to the compact (which they not only
-broke in the most flagrant manner, but represented, in their account of
-it to the public, in a way most injurious to the prisoners’ honour) had
-a very bad effect on poor Neilson. He was literally at death’s door when
-the word came from the Castle on March the 18th, 1799, that the State
-prisoners were to be deported to an unknown destination on the following
-morning.
-
-John Sweetman’s diary gives a most harrowing account of Neilson’s
-condition during the journey to Fort George. He got delirious on the
-very night the _Ashton Smith_, with the prisoners aboard, sailed from
-Dublin Bay. The prisoners had to take two hours’ watches by his bedside
-to restrain his violence. Dr. MacNevin, as a medical man, warned the
-Captain of the likely consequences if something were not done for the
-unfortunate patient, and a petition was sent for leave to have him
-landed at Belfast, where the boat put in to take more prisoners. But it
-was all in vain.
-
-Fortunately Neilson’s condition improved after a day or two, and his
-unfortunate companions were spared at least acute anxiety on his
-account. They had plenty of discomforts to put up with, without that. A
-heavy gale came on as they approached Ailsa, and presently it increased
-to a rank storm. “The sea broke clear over us, and poured into the hold;
-several of the berths were drenched with water. Mine was completely
-flooded by the bilge-water, which came up between the timbers and
-through the ceiling. All the trunks were knocked about, and most of the
-crockery broken. The hold exhibited a most confused scene.” Later on
-they were nearly ship-wrecked.
-
-From Greenock the prisoners were conveyed by coach to Fort George, which
-they reached on April 9th, having been eleven days on the sea-journey
-and ten days on the land journey.
-
-Dr. Dickson’s narrative gives us a graphic description of the first
-impressions of Fort George. “Our entrance might be called solemn. The
-very aspect of the place made it so to me, who had never before seen a
-regular fortification. A numerous guard was drawn out, and a multitude
-assembled—which included a great part of the rank and fashion of the
-country. Through them and the guards our coaches drove to a stair, up
-which we were conducted to the rampart, and thence along a wooden
-bridge, thrown across the street on our account, to the third floor of
-the garrison, and shown into a spacious room where we found an
-uncommonly large grate filled with a blazing coal fire.
-
-“We had not enjoyed this many minutes, when Lieutenant-Colonel Stuart
-(the lieutenant-governor), the fort-major, and some other officers made
-their appearance. Panting as we were with anxiety to know our fates,
-their minds did not seem to be much more at ease than ours. After a few
-polite inquiries concerning our journey, health, accommodations, etc.,
-the lieutenant-governor, taking a paper from his pocket, said:
-‘Gentlemen, it is necessary that I should read to you the orders I have
-received from Government; though I assure you to me a very painful
-task.’ That he felt it such was evident from the tremulous voice and
-interrupted breath with which he performed it. On perceiving the
-indignation which these orders excited, expressed by every countenance,
-and hearing it from one tongue: ‘Gentlemen,’ said he, ‘as a _servant of
-government_ I cannot hear reflections on _government_. I own I cannot
-reconcile your appearance and these orders—yet I must obey them.
-However, it shall be your own fault if ever they are executed with
-severity.’ On this, he and the other gentlemen retired seemingly, and as
-I believe really, affected with our situation.
-
-“Soon after, our table was handsomely laid out and a good dinner of
-_five dishes_ served up. We had two servants to attend us. Our allowance
-of drink was one dozen of porter, one of ale, and ten bottles of port.
-And we were informed that we might have tea in the evening, or a cold
-supper with a bottle of porter or ale for each, as we should choose.
-
-“After dinner, twenty rooms, between sixteen and eighteen feet square
-each, were allotted to us by ballot, sixteen of which were laid with
-brick over the boarden floor. On taking possession we found them clean,
-airy, dry, well plastered and ceiled, with windows sufficiently large,
-well glazed and secured on the outside with iron bars. In each room was
-a neat four-posted bed with good curtains, palliasse, mattress, sheets,
-one under and three upper blankets, a cotton coverlet, bolster, pillow,
-a rush-bottomed chair, and small oaken table; a bottle and basin,
-fire-irons, coal-box, candlestick, snuffers and extinguisher—all
-entirely new and good in their kind. To these were afterwards added a
-bell on the outside of each door, with two pulls on the inside, one at
-the fireplace and one at the bed, that in case of sickness, fire, or
-alarm, our keepers might be roused, and assistance procured. Four
-invalids were exempted from duty, for our service, and allowed double
-pay; two to make our beds, keep our rooms clean, and do other services;
-and the other two to keep our knives, forks, spoons, etc., as they ought
-to be, bring our provisions from the inn and attend at table. Each of us
-had a captain’s allowance of coal and candle, nor did we burn a dipped
-candle except for one fortnight during my residence in the fort. For our
-health equal provision was made.”
-
-The prisoners were allowed to exercise on the ramparts, and from that
-point of vantage they were entertained “with a widely extended scenery,
-as variegated, wildly great and rudely picturesque, as water, moor,
-mountain cultivated fields, one large handsome town, several villages, a
-few gentlemen’s seats, some good farm-houses, thriving plantations of
-great extent, Culloden _with all its recollections_, a considerable
-succession of trading and other vessels, a constant paddling of ferry
-and fishing boats, and a long and lofty ridge of the Scottish Alps at a
-distance, exposing their bare heads and naked shoulders to the pitiless
-storms, could present to an eye accustomed to tame and temperate
-regions.”
-
-The Governor, who was of royal Stuart blood, treated his prisoners with
-every consideration. On his own responsibility he allowed the
-relaxation, or removal of the several restrictions imposed on them by
-the Duke of Portland, at the instigation of Castlereagh, and obtained on
-his own initiative various privileges and comforts for them. Thus when
-the fine weather came in May they were allowed to bathe. Permission to
-subscribe to certain newspapers was accorded them, and they were also
-permitted to buy books. Gradually the restraints that were placed on
-their intercourse were removed, and they had the liberty of each other’s
-apartments, and permission to amuse themselves as they pleased, within
-the bounds prescribed, from eight in the morning till nearly nine in the
-evening.
-
-But the most precious privilege accorded them was the permission to have
-some of their family with them. Roger O’Connor was the first to enjoy
-this privilege, and it was next availed of by Thomas Addis Emmet. It was
-probably kind Mrs. Emmet, who suggested to Samuel Neilson that he should
-apply for leave to have his little son with him, promising to “mother
-him like one of her own children.” An opportunity was found when the
-wife and niece of Mr. Cuthbert, one of the other prisoners, travelled to
-Fort George, and William Neilson arrived, in their charge, some time in
-July, 1801.
-
-The letters addressed by Samuel Neilson to his wife and children from
-Fort George, and carefully preserved by the tender piety of his
-daughters, exhibit him, as a husband and father, in a very favourable
-light. He is deeply concerned about his children’s education, of which
-he would make religion the foundation, and a certain stoicism and the
-unflinching acceptance of life’s sternest realities, the backbone. Even
-when he was in Newgate, awaiting his fate, which seemed then likely to
-be that of the Sheareses, McCann and Bond, the direction of the
-children’s education is of supreme interest to him. “Oh, let me entreat
-you once more to rear them hardily, to do everything in the house in
-turn. To William, reading, writing, English well—no other language nor
-dancing; to the girls the same, with knitting and sewing, but no tambour
-nonsense. Let their dresses be plain and homely, befitting their state;
-and of all things labour to form their minds by curbing pride and
-inciting to virtue and industry, not by scolding and whipping or
-cajoling, but by _emulation_, which is by far the safest and surest
-incentive to exertion.” He warns his wife to guard them against foolish
-fears, whether of “ghost and fairies and hobgoblins,” or of fever. The
-remedy he proposes against either is the inculcation of a perfect trust
-in God. “Let then the children learn that God alone is present
-everywhere, and that darkness is subjected to his power.” And again:
-“impress upon them without ceasing this great truth—that Providence
-cares for all its creatures.” One loves to quote the educational maxims
-he lays down for his children for their soundness, and universal
-applicability:
-
-“There is no part of education more essential than that which gives an
-early knowledge of the world; but above all it is necessary to keep the
-young mind _employed_, not to forced tasks or unreasonable attention,
-but to something (either of utility or amusement, and these can easily
-be united) so that the mind be not left to wander, and to become
-familiarised with the frivolity that is the fashion of the age; for that
-will certainly cause it to take a wrong direction. I hope you are also
-fully sensible that the only useful control is that over _the feelings_,
-not that which arises from _personal dread_.”
-
-“With respect to the spiritual direction of our children, I hope you
-will bear in mind this important lesson, that you will yourself educate
-our children in the true principles of Christianity, which believe me
-are not to be acquired by a mere _Sunday show_. No! they are to be
-instilled in the life and conversation, and that only by precept and
-example.... Continue to teach them a love of _truth_ and _Christianity_,
-with an utter abhorrence of falsehood and hypocrisy. There is a maxim of
-an ancient heathen author, which my father recommended to me when I was
-a boy; it had a great effect on my mind at the time, and is worth your
-teaching them; it is thus translated:
-
- “Be this your wall of brass, no _guilt_ to know
- Nor let one _crime_ sit blushing on your brow.”
-
-His letters to his children are charming in their simplicity and
-tenderness. Here is one of them:
-
- “My dear Children,—I am extremely delighted with your very great
- progress in writing, and am only anxious on that subject that
- you will not forget what you have been taught. But my great and
- increasing care is about your progress in the acquisition of
- industrious habits. It should be a first principle with people
- that they should actually _earn_ whatever they _enjoy_. Writing
- is good and reading is good, but no learning should entitle a
- person to live by the fruit of another’s industry. Your mother
- will help you to apply this principle. State your objections to
- it, if you have any, in your next letter; and show me, if you
- can, why one part of the community should live by the labours of
- another.”
-
-The longing for his children which had tried to satisfy itself with the
-sight of their framed likenesses above his mantelpiece, the record of
-their ages and heights on his wall, was stilled at last on the joyful
-day which brought him William. The boy’s presence was not procured
-without sacrifice on his father’s part. The prisoners were allowed a
-certain amount of wine every day at dinner. This, Neilson saved, and
-sold privately to some of the prisoners at 3_s._ 6_d._ per bottle which
-paid for William’s diet, “having agreed for it at £15 per annum.” “I
-don’t feel the slightest inconvenience from this privation,” he assures
-his wife, “and though it looks a little awkward to sit at table while
-others are taking their glass, yet my fellow-prisoners cannot but esteem
-me the more for the motive; indeed I feel a good deal pinched about the
-usual expenses of mending, washing, paper, quills, etc., _not having at
-present a crown in the world_. But then I do not owe a farthing to
-anyone, and I have learned to make a little go a long way.” From a
-letter addressed by Neilson to the Governor we learn that he covered the
-expense of washing, etc., by going without supper. When we remember that
-Neilson had become addicted, during the convivial days of his political
-life and the weary days of his imprisonment in Kilmainham and Newgate,
-to spirituous drink, we realise the extent of the sacrifice he made to
-secure the presence of his little son.
-
-That little lad’s story of the days spent by him with his father in Fort
-George can be told by no one so well as himself. We must bear in mind
-that the writer of the following letters was only eight years old.
-
-The first letter is to his mother and announces his safe arrival in Fort
-George:
-
- “My dear Mother.—I like this place very well. My father is very
- well, as are the rest of the prisoners.
-
- “I had the pleasure of seeing a little dog and a hare. Mr.
- Wilson had the hare, and Mr. Cormick the dog. We had a very
- pleasant voyage, only Monday, which was a little stormy. Mrs.
- Cuthbert and Miss Park took great care of me. Mrs. Emmet will be
- as kind to me as if I was her own child. My father had a pretty
- little bed and arm-chair ready for me.”
-
-The next letter is dated a week later:
-
- “My dear Mother—I am sorry to tell you that Mrs. Cuthbert has
- been very ill ever since the day I came here. My arm is almost
- stout, and Dr. MacNevin says it will be as well as ever. I bathe
- a little every morning, at first I was afraid to dive, but now I
- am growing bolder. I am counting with Mr. Dowling in the
- morning, reading and grammar with Doctor Dickson, in the middle
- of the day, and writing and reading with my father, who is also
- beginning to teach me geography, in the afternoon. I play in the
- evening with Robert Emmet and his sisters; sometimes I sup at
- their mother’s, and sometimes in our own room, on bread and
- milk. I go to bed at nine, and rise before eight o’clock. Father
- sits an hour later than me. My love to my sisters.”
-
-A letter to his sister Anne who was with Sophia in Dublin (probably at
-Mrs. Bond’s), comes next in order of time, and we learn from it that he
-knew his father from his picture, and that he bathes every morning at
-eight o’clock. He conveys a message from John Sweetman to Sophia who was
-evidently an old favourite of the genial brewer.
-
-By the middle of September William is quite settled down in his new
-quarters, and extremely happy in them. “Everything here is agreeable,
-and my father takes great care of me. The little Emmets are fine
-play-fellows, but I am ten hours at my education, and I think it not
-long. I sleep very sound all night, and in the morning my father awakes
-me to my lessons. He says I am in a fair way of being a good scholar....
-I get my copies from Mr. Dowdall, who sends his best respects to you.
-Tell John we have got no bag-pipes yet, nor any errand-going dogs.”
-
-We next hear of William’s performance on the flute at a concert given by
-the children in Mrs. Emmet’s room, with Mr. and Mrs. Emmet, Neilson,
-John Sweetman, Dr. MacNevin and the boy’s self-appointed music-master,
-Cormick, as the appreciative audience:—
-
- “My dear Mother. We had a concert on Friday evening, when Robert
- Emmet and I played several tunes together, and we had the
- approbation of the whole company. I am reading Erasmus in Latin
- with Dr. Dickson, and I am in the rule of five of fractions and
- tare and tret with Mr. Dowling. My father assists me in
- everything.”
-
-Poor William fell ill towards the New Year, but sickness had its
-alleviations in Fort George for a little boy whom everybody idolised. It
-meant all kinds of petting from Jane Park and Mrs. Cuthbert, and gifts
-of jellies and fruit and sweetmeats from Mrs. Emmet. Nor was that all,
-as witness the following letter from the convalescent to his sisters:—
-
- “My dear Sisters.—I suppose you have heard that I was sick; but
- I am sure you will be happy to hear that I am perfectly
- recovered. When I was ill my little pigeon used to play about me
- like my little cat; it is very fond of me. Dr. Dickson who was
- so kind as to teach me Latin, has left us; but Mr. Dowling is
- good enough to supply his place, and to continue my arithmetic
- also. I can now play twenty-one tunes on the flute, and Mr.
- Cormick gives me those which will be most agreeable to my
- mother. I have just begun trigonometry with Mr. Russell. I read
- history and biography in English with Mr. Emmet. With my father
- geography, and a little of everything except writing, which he
- thinks will be best deferred for some time. Robert Emmet is my
- schoolfellow in all classes.”
-
-Some of the State prisoners were liberated about this time, including as
-we learn from William’s letter above, Dr. Dickson. A subsequent letter
-to his mother indicates his regret, even in the midst of the fine
-sliding the long-continued frost afforded him, for Mr. Simms (another of
-those liberated) with whom he used to play “tig.” His father tries to
-supply the loss of Mr. Simms by playing “shinney” with his little son,
-and the latter makes himself useful to the prisoners by keeping a weekly
-account of the washing sent out, and checking it when it comes back. And
-so the days pass.
-
-Anxious days they are for the father whose future is so uncertain. It is
-clear that with the coming of the long-expected peace the remainder of
-the prisoners will be sent away from Fort George. But whither? And what
-is best to be done with William?
-
-Finally, on the last day of May, 1802, word comes that the prisoners are
-to be sent to Hamburg. Thence it is Neilson’s intention to depart for
-America. But will he bring William with him, or send him home to his
-mother? The boy himself cannot bear the idea of parting with his father:
-“he has been in tears this hour past because I won’t promise to take him
-with me.”
-
-The final decision is to send back William to his mother, and the son of
-one of the prisoners, Mr. Chambers, returning, one of these days, to
-Belfast, poor William was torn from his father and sent back to his
-mother and sisters.
-
-He was to see his father once more. Braving all dangers, Samuel Neilson
-stole back to Ireland, for one last glimpse of its dear shores, and
-accompanied by faithful Jamie Hope, rode from Dublin to Belfast, to see
-his beloved wife and children, ere he bade them farewell for ever.
-
-Less than nine months after his arrival in America, poor Neilson died,
-his giant frame worn out by all he had endured during his long
-imprisonment, as truly a martyr for Ireland as if he had perished, with
-so many others of his comrades, on the scaffold of ’98 or ’03.
-
-Mrs. Neilson, soon after the break up of the _Star_, embarked in a small
-line of business, and God prospered her little enterprise. “She was
-enabled,” says Madden, “by the fruit of her industry, to bring up her
-children respectably, to give them education, and to leave them—such as
-it would have been her husband’s pride to have found them, had he lived
-to have seen them in their ripe years—trained to virtue and matured in
-useful knowledge.
-
-“Miss McCracken, speaking of her, says: ‘Mrs. Neilson was a very
-superior woman, a most exemplary wife and mother, for whom I had the
-highest esteem, and continued on terms of intimacy and friendship, from
-1795, when I first became acquainted with her, until her death. I never
-saw a family so well regulated, such order and neatness, on such a
-limited income; and such well-trained children, most amiable and
-affectionate to each other, and so respectful to their mother, and all
-so happy together—it was quite a treat to spend an evening with them.’
-This excellent woman, esteemed and respected by all who knew her, even
-by those to whom her husband’s political principles were most obnoxious,
-struggled for her family during her husband’s imprisonment and exile and
-subsequently to his death, and died in November, 1811, in her
-forty-eighth year. Her remains were interred at Newtownbreda. The
-inscription on her tomb truly describes her to have been, ‘A woman who
-was an ornament to her sex; who fulfilled in the most exemplary manner,
-the duties of a daughter, wife and mother.’”
-
-There remains only to tell, as briefly as may be, the story of her
-children, for of this woman, in a special degree it is true to say, that
-she has no history but the history of her husband and family. Poor
-William, whom we have learned to love as dearly as any of his masters in
-Fort George, lived long enough to show the fruits of the remarkable
-education he had received there—but alas! not long enough to confer on
-his country the benefits which all those who knew him expected from him.
-After a brilliant course at the Academical Institution, Belfast, he
-embraced a commercial career, where his splendid talents ensured for him
-a speedy success. His employers described him as “a young man of the
-most splendid talents we have ever known; there was no subject in
-mercantile affairs that he could not make himself master of. In public
-affairs he soon became conspicuous, and had he lived he would have been
-an ornament to his country.”
-
-Alas! his career was cut by his death from yellow fever in Jamaica on
-February 7th, 1817.
-
-Of the four daughters of Samuel and Anne Neilson, Anne (who lived much
-with Mrs. Oliver Bond) married a Mr. Magennis, in New York, and died
-there at an advanced age. Sophia and Jane married gentlemen of the name
-of McAdam, and one lived in Belfast, the other in New York. Mary, the
-youngest, married William Hancock of Lurgan, and was the mother of the
-distinguished statistician, William Neilson Hancock, LL.D.
-
-
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
-
-
-
-
- The Wife of Lord Edward Fitzgerald
-
- PAMELA (1776?-1831)[79]
-
- “Would God thou wert among the Gael!
- Thou wouldst not then from day to day
- Weep thus alone.”—MANGAN.
-
-Footnote 79:
-
- _Authorities_: Madden’s “United Irishmen” (Second Series, Second
- Edition;) Moore’s “Life of Lord Edward Fitzgerald”; Gerald Campbell’s
- “Edward and Pamela Fitzgerald”; Harmand’s “Madame de Genlis”; various
- works of Madame de Genlis, including “Mèmoires,” “Adèle et Théodore,”
- “Leçons d’une Gouvernante à ses Élèves,” etc.
-
-
-IT is not Romney, ravishing as his portrait of her is, nor Giroust, who
-in his _Leçon de Harpe_ has painted her for us in all the virginal
-charm, and sweet, and fresh, and innocent loveliness of her early
-girlhood, nor Mieris, whose miniature of her shows an exquisite Diana,
-with little white buskined feet, as light and swift as the wind on which
-they seem to be borne—it is none of these that has given us the picture
-of Pamela we Irish people love best. It is as Lord Edward, himself,
-pictured her in a letter to his mother that we think of her most
-willingly—with her baby in her arms, the little son, the first-born, of
-whom the young husband and father was so proud: “I wish I could show the
-baby to you all—dear mother, how you would love it! Nothing is so
-delightful as to see it in its dear mother’s arms, with her sweet, pale,
-delicate face, and the pretty looks she gives it.” For the sake of the
-five years of perfect happiness she gave Lord Edward we, the Irish
-nation, to whom he has given so much, have taken “the dear little, pale,
-pretty wife” into our hearts for all time.
-
-Poor Pamela! We have need to keep her place in our hearts very safe and
-warm; for the rest of the world has dealt pitilessly with her fame
-during life, and her memory after death—and fate has spared her no
-unkindness, no humiliation, from the shadows that surrounded her cradle
-to the sordid and _macabres_ details of her incoffining.
-
-As we read the sad story of Pamela, and contrast “what might have been”
-(“if the dear little, pale, pretty wife” had been suffered by destiny to
-ripen, in the sweet, and simple and wholesome atmosphere of Irish family
-life, to her gracious maturity, and lovely old age) with the sordid
-actuality, our love for Pamela becomes doubled with a great pity, and an
-infinite regret. We feel how right Madden was in ascribing what was
-unlovely in her to the education she received at the hands of Madame de
-Genlis, and the blame which some of her critics have lavished on her
-levity, her errors and her frailties we join with him in apportioning to
-those who failed in their duty towards her in the most critical and
-trying moment of her life.
-
- * * * * *
-
-Into the disputed question of the parentage of Pamela it is not our
-business to enter. Suffice it to say that in the common belief she was
-regarded as the daughter of the Duke of Orleans, the notorious
-_Egalité_, and Madame de Genlis, the Governess of the Orleans children.
-On the other hand, Madame de Genlis asserted that Pamela was the
-daughter of a poor English woman named Mary Simms, who had married a
-gentleman of good family called Seymour,[80] and fled with him, from the
-displeasure of his family, to Fogo in Newfoundland. Here their little
-daughter Nancy was born, and here shortly after the young husband died.
-His widow returned to England, and settled down in Christ Church, where
-the extraordinary beauty and fascination of her little girl attracted
-the attention of a Mr. Forth. Mr. Forth was accustomed to buy horses in
-England for his Grace of Orleans, but recently he had received another
-commission: to look out for a little English girl, to be educated with
-the Orleans children, and to speak English with them. Mary Simms was
-very poor, and her desire to keep her child with her was not strong
-enough to stand in the way of the brilliant provision thus promised her.
-Accordingly, Mr. Forth was soon able to announce to his royal patron
-that he was sending him “the handsomest mare and the prettiest little
-girl in all England.”
-
-Footnote 80:
-
- It has been pointed out by Madden that in the civil marriage contract
- of Pamela and Lord Edward, the bride’s father is stated to have been a
- William Berkley, while in the religious contract of the same date
- (Tournai, December 17th, 1792) Pamela is entered as the daughter of
- William de Brixey.
-
-All we know with certainty of Pamela’s[81] “origin” is that at a very
-early age she made her appearance in the Convent of Bellechasse, whither
-Madame de Genlis had retired to devote herself to the education of the
-children of the Duke and Duchess of Orleans, and that until her marriage
-with Lord Edward in December, 1792, she was the constant companion of
-the young princes and their sister, and shared that remarkable and
-original system of education, which Madame de Genlis—one of the most
-gifted educationists of France, the country of educationists—had devised
-for her pupils.
-
-Footnote 81:
-
- The name Pamela was borrowed by Madame de Genlis, who was an
- enthusiastic admirer of the novels of Samuel Richardson, from the
- heroine of the most famous of them.
-
-M. Emile Faguet has discovered in the pedagogy of Madame de Genlis the
-origin of all modern education—in its theories, its practices, its
-tendencies. “With some of its defects,” he admits, but “wanting most of
-these defects,” as he also claims: “an education, directed towards the
-true, as well as to the beautiful, paying much attention to history,
-modern languages, _Realien_, the study of the most important new
-discoveries, as well as the literary masterpieces of ancient and modern
-times.”
-
-It seems to us, as we study this education in its results—that is to say
-in the character of the pupils who were formed by it—that some of the
-defects of our modern education were more inherent in Madame de Genlis’s
-system than M. Faguet is willing to admit. Lady Sarah Napier, with her
-shrewd woman’s wit, has perhaps formed a truer estimate of it. In a
-letter written to her friend, Lady Susan O’Brien, shortly after Lord
-Edward’s marriage to Pamela, she says: “Your account of M. Sillery
-(_i.e._ Madame de Genlis) and her _élèves_ answers my idea of her, all
-pleasing to appearance, and nothing _sound_ within _her_ heart, whatever
-may be so in the young minds whom she _can_ and does of course easily
-deceive. I hope we have got our lovely little niece time enough out of
-her care to have acquired all the _perfections_ of her education, which
-are certainly great, as she has a _very uncommon_, clever, active mind
-and turns it to the most useful purposes, and I trust our pretty little
-_Sylph_ (for she is not like other mortals) has not a tincture of all
-the double-dealing, cunning, false reasoning, and lies with which M. S.
-is forced to gloss over a very common ill-conduct, because she _will_
-set herself _above_ others in virtue, and she happens to be no better
-than her neighbours.”
-
-The great fault we seem to find in Madame de Genlis as an educationist
-is that she failed to make true religion the foundation of it. Though
-she insisted on devoting a large portion of her pupils’ time-table to
-the study of the Catechism, and reserved for herself, as the most
-important of her duties, their preparation for First Communion, and
-their religious instruction, she failed signally to make them realise
-that they were created and placed in this world for one end and aim
-only: “to know God, to love Him, and serve Him, and by that means to
-gain everlasting life.” The system of morality which she taught them was
-founded less on the knowledge and love and service of God than on that
-curious code of external ethics called _Les Convenances_. The strange
-thing about this was that she, herself, was an ardent, not to say a
-noisy, protagonist of religion, and enjoyed nothing more than a tilt
-with the _Philosophes_. But, somehow, one thinks of religion as an
-element a little fortuitous in the heterogeneous collection of
-ingredients which went to the making of her character—and when she
-failed to make it the foundation of her own conception of life, it is
-not to be wondered at that she failed equally in respect of her pupils.
-Louis Philippe and Madame Adélaïde were worse than indifferent in the
-matter of religion. And it is sufficient to say of Pamela that though
-she was reconciled to the Church before her death, and died, as one has
-reason to believe, truly penitent, she seems to have given up the
-practice of her religion immediately after her marriage with Lord
-Edward, without the slightest qualm of conscience.
-
-“_Les Convenances_,” external appearances, it was these Madame de Genlis
-kept steadily in view in educating her pupils. The consequence was that
-she made them think of life as an act played on a stage for the benefit
-of spectators, whose applause determined the success of the actor,
-rather than a solemn business between God and each lonely human soul. To
-have their bodies trained to the highest degree of strength, and grace,
-agility and efficiency; to have their minds adorned with all useful and
-agreeable knowledge, to be adepts and connoisseurs of the fine arts:
-painting, and music, poetry and literature—this was the educational
-ideal she set before herself. If the hearts of her pupils withered a
-little under the neglect which they necessarily suffered—if the lessons
-of “love, and pain and death” were missing from this positive and
-modernist education, who can wonder that the results in poor Pamela’s
-case at least were disastrous?
-
- * * * * *
-
-Nevertheless, there were in Madame de Genlis’s system, as Lady Sarah
-Napier admits, sufficient “perfections” to make it worth our while to
-study it in a certain detail, in the hope of finding something in it to
-suit our own educational needs. The books in which she expounds her
-system (_Adèle et Théodore_, _Leçons d’une Gouvernante_, etc.) exercised
-a tremendous influence on a generation of parents much more interested
-in the education of their children than their present-day successors. We
-learn from Lady Sophia Fitzgerald that her mother, the Duchess of
-Leinster, admired “all the writings of Madame de Genlis to the greatest
-degree,” and was often bantered by Lord Edward (who little suspected in
-what a relation he was one day to stand to the educationist) over her
-_engouement_. (He, for his part, pronounced her _Plans d’Education_ all
-perfect nonsense). Lady Sophia, herself, began to re-read _Adèle et
-Théodore_ (which she had first read about eight or nine years
-previously) after her brother, Lord Edward, brought home Pamela as his
-bride. She pays a pretty compliment to Pamela while she makes a record
-of this intention of hers in her diary: “Knowing what a charming,
-engaging little creature Lady Edward is, I think I shall be more
-interested than ever, and give more attention to all she [_i.e._ Madame
-de Genlis] says upon Education.”
-
-In 1777 Madame de Genlis, who had been attached since 1770 to the Court
-of the Duchess of Chartres, at the _Palais Royal_, as Lady in Waiting,
-was appointed Governess of the little twin Princesses, who had recently
-been born to the Duke and Duchess. She insisted on taking charge of them
-practically from their birth—contrary to the usual custom which left the
-care of baby princesses to a _Sous-Gouvernante_, and in order that she
-might develop unhampered the system of education which she had devised
-for them she stipulated that they should be removed from the _Palais
-Royal_, and a special pavilion built for them in the garden of the
-Convent of Bellechasse, on plans drawn up by herself.
-
-In designing these plans the Countess kept steadily in view the
-destination of the pavilion as a place of education. Her first care was
-to secure the possibility of exercising her _surveillance_ over the
-little princesses by day, and by night. A glass door separated her room
-from their nursery, and it was so arranged that even from her bed she
-could see what was going on in their room. The decorations of the place
-had all an educational aim. The walls of the Princesses’ room were
-adorned with frescoes, representing the seven kings of Rome and the
-emperors and empresses up to the time of Constantine, each with the date
-and name beneath it. Above the doors were depicted scenes taken also
-from Roman history. “Two large screens bore representations of the Kings
-of France, the hand screens depicted incidents taken from mythology.”
-The staircase was hung with maps. A long gallery was devoted to Grecian
-history, and certain other rooms were frescoed with scenes taken from
-the history of France.
-
-Into this peaceable retreat Madame de Genlis was accompanied by her
-mother and her two daughters, Caroline and Pulchérie de Genlis, the
-completion of whose education she thus found an opportunity of
-directing, before their early marriages to the Marquis de La Woestine
-and the Viscount de Valence respectively.
-
-In 1782 one of the little twin princesses died of smallpox, and in the
-same year Madame de Genlis was appointed “Governor” to the young
-princes, their brothers—the first woman to hold such a post of honour
-and responsibility.
-
-From this moment Bellechasse became a regular academy. In addition to
-the three princes, the Duke de Valois (afterwards Louis Philippe, King
-of the French), the Duke de Montpensier, the small Duke de Beaujolais,
-and their sister Mlle. d’Orléans (afterwards known to history as Madame
-Adélaïde), the Countess had also, under her care her nephew, César de
-Crest, her niece, Henrietta de Sercey, and the two mysterious little
-girls, Pamela and Hermione. Of Hermione’s parentage nothing is known;
-but she was thought by some people to be a sister of Pamela.
-
-The education given by Madame de Genlis in this academy has been
-chronicled by her in considerable detail in her _Mèmoires_, and in her
-celebrated pedagogical novel, _Adèle et Théodore_, and its spirit very
-finely analysed by her latest biographer, Jean Harmand. M. Harmand
-traces the main body of her educational doctrines to the great
-educationists of the seventeenth century, Fénélon and Madame de
-Maintenon, but finds them profoundly modified by the influence of
-Rousseau.
-
-In order to have a free hand to carry them out Madame de Genlis got rid
-of the Princes’ tutor, M. de Bonnard, and substituted M. Lebrun, a
-former secretary of her husband. Their second master, M. l’Abbé Guyot,
-was allowed to remain, though he and the Countess were anything but
-kindred spirits.
-
-The princes lived at the _Palais Royal_ and came to Bellechasse every
-day at eleven. In the earlier portion of the day they had their
-religious instruction, and their Latin Course from the Abbé, and M.
-Lebrun was asked to keep a record of each morning’s work for the
-“Governor’s” information. The rest of the day Madame herself took
-charge, the masters being merely expected to dine with their pupils at
-two, and after supper at nine, to escort them back to the _Palais
-Royal_.
-
-The Countess, according to herself, had her work cut out for her to
-correct the defects of the little boys’ previous education. They knew
-nothing at all, and the eldest, in particular, was wanting in
-application to an unheard-of degree. Their new teacher began by reading
-history for them. “M. le duc de Valois paid no attention, yawned,
-stretched himself and finally lay back on the sofa with his heels on the
-table.” The Countess put him “in penance” immediately. But the good
-sense of the little boy, which even at that period of his development,
-was easily appealed to, made him take it in good part. He was very much
-addicted to slang, and had some very peculiar foibles: he was in terror
-of dogs, and could not endure the smell of vinegar. The Countess
-succeeded in ridding him of these peculiarities.
-
-Modern languages, taught on the direct method, were a strong point in
-the Bellechasse system. There was a German Valet de Chambre to speak
-German to the children; an Italian to speak Italian; an Englishman to
-help them to a conversational knowledge of English. It was ostensibly to
-speak English with Mademoiselle that Pamela, as we have seen, was added
-to the establishment.
-
-The children’s father, who spared no money to carry out the “Governor’s”
-ideas, bought for them a country place, Saint Leu, and there they passed
-the summer each year. In the beautiful park the Countess had assigned to
-each the ground for a little garden, which they dug and planted for
-themselves—with the help of a German gardener, who gave his gardening
-instruction in German. During their afternoon walks nothing was spoken
-but English, and this was the language of the dinner table. At supper
-Italian was spoken.
-
-A clever chemist and a good botanist, M. Alyon, was also engaged for
-Bellechasse. He accompanied the children on their walks, and gave them
-practical lessons in botany while under his direction they gathered the
-wayside flowers and plants. He gave them a course of Chemistry every
-summer at which the Countess delighted to assist.
-
-For their training in the fine arts a Pole, named Merys, was employed,
-and under his presidency an “Academy” of industrious little artists met
-every evening in the Salon. At the request of the Countess, M. Merys
-painted a series of slides for an educational magic lantern. Each series
-furnished illustrations for a lecture on Scripture History, Ancient
-History, Roman History, and the History of China and Japan—and the
-youngsters took turns, once a week, in showing the magic lantern and
-giving a little lecture with the aid of it. Can anything be more modern
-and up-to-date?
-
-In order to teach her pupils geography, Madame de Genlis invented for
-them a game in which they took the keenest delight. She made them
-dramatise, and act, all the celebrated voyages of discovery. Everybody
-in the establishment had a share in these representations. They used
-wooden horses for cavalcades, the river in the park stood for the sea
-and a fleet of pretty little boats took the place of ships. Their
-theatrical wardrobe was as complete as possible. The “voyages” they
-staged with the greatest success were those of Vasco da Gama, and
-Snelgrave. They had, moreover, a moveable theatre which was first housed
-in the large dining room, and on which they staged historical
-_tableaux_. M. Merys grouped the actors behind the curtains, and the
-spectators guessed what each _tableau_ represented. A dozen _tableaux_
-were thus often staged in the course of one evening. The great painter,
-David, took the greatest delight in this amusement, and often grouped
-the little actors. After some time the Countess had a regular theatre
-built at Saint Leu and here all her own pieces were staged—as well as a
-series of _tableaux vivants_. One of these represented Psyche persecuted
-by Venus, and the _rôles_ were taken by Caroline and Pulchérie de Genlis
-and Pamela—a ravishing little god of love. No wonder David in his
-enthusiasm pronounced the picture “le perfection du beau idéal.”
-
-There were many who thought that the theatre played too great a _rôle_
-in the system of Bellechasse, and that the education given to the
-children was too theatrical. The Marquise de Laroche-Jaquelin relates in
-her Memoirs how, being taken one day, as a little girl, by her
-grandmother, for a private view of the new pictures in the Louvre, she
-saw there Madame de Genlis with all her _élèves_. The Marquise’s
-grandmother and the Countess were old friends, and their delight at
-meeting each other was mutual—and the little girl who had read so many
-of the Countess’s books for children, and acted in so many of her pieces
-was enchanted to see the author of them in the flesh. She thought the
-little princes, who were all dressed in the English fashion, with their
-hair in ringlets and unpowdered, very odd looking. While the royal
-children were viewing the pictures Madame de Genlis presented to her old
-friend her daughter Pulchérie—but said nothing of an exquisite looking
-little girl of about seven years, who was on her other side, until her
-friend enquired who she was. “Ah!” replied Madame de Genlis in a low
-tone, “it is a very touching and interesting story—which I must reserve
-for another occasion.” Then turning to the little girl she said,
-“Pamela, act Héloise.” Immediately Pamela took out her comb; her fine
-hair, without powder, fell in disorder upon her shoulders. She threw
-herself to the ground on her knees, raised her eyes to Heaven, as also
-one of her arms, and her whole figure expressed an ecstasy of passion.”
-
-For days afterwards the Marquise’s grandmother entertained her friends
-with a humorous account of Madame de Genlis, and the sort of education
-she was giving her pupils.
-
-Nevertheless, it is doubtful if any of those who made a joke of the
-Countess’s system, had an idea of how eminently practical it was in
-certain respects. During the winter season, which was passed at Paris,
-she aimed at utilising for her pupils every moment of their time—above
-all, that devoted to recreation. She had got a lathe installed in one of
-the ante-chambers, and at recreation time all her pupils, as well as
-herself, learned to turn it. She had them taught all the handicrafts
-that did not require much bodily force: leather-work, basket-making, the
-manufacture of bootlaces, ribbons, gauze, cardboard boxes, raised maps,
-artificial flowers, wire-netting, marbled paper, gilding, all sorts of
-hair work that it is possible to imagine, even to the making of wigs.
-The boys in addition were taught carpentry—and they succeeded so well in
-this that the two elder, quite unassisted, made a large wardrobe and a
-table with drawers in it for a poor woman of St. Leu in whom they were
-interested, and these articles are said to have been as well made as if
-they had come from the workshop of a first-class joiner. All their
-play-things had an educational scope—and all their walks and excursions
-had a similar end in view. At Paris they only went out to see the
-picture galleries (it was in one of these expeditions the future
-Marquise de Laroche-Jaquelin encountered them) or museums. They visited
-workshops and saw the various manufactures of Paris in different stages
-of their production. Previous to these excursions they read together the
-article in the _Encyclopedia_ dealing with the particular manufacture
-they were going to inspect.
-
-For the “_corpus sanum_” in which she wished the “_mens sana_” of each
-pupil to develop, Madame de Genlis had invented a whole system of
-gymnastics, which demanded an elaborate installation of pulleys,
-horizontal bars, etc. In addition she made her pupils walk with weighted
-shoes; carry graduated loads on their backs, or heads, or in their arms,
-etc. In addition dancing was taught with the greatest care, and the
-famous _danseur_ of the Opera, d’Auberval, gave lessons to Mademoiselle,
-Pamela and Henrietta—whose dancing was something exquisite. They were
-also taught riding and swimming, and Madame, herself, one of the finest
-performers of her time, taught them the harp.
-
-At a certain hour every evening the children assembled for their reading
-lesson. Each pupil read aloud for a quarter of an hour, Madame
-correcting their pronunciation when necessary, and making suitable
-comments on the subject matter which was always of an improving nature.
-At the end of the lesson the Countess read aloud for a few minutes
-herself, just to give the correct model.
-
-When the children were a little older their “Governor” hired a box at
-the theatre for them, and thither they went about once a week to see the
-masterpieces of the French stage played by the greatest actors of the
-age.
-
-Every Saturday the Princes and their sister held a reception at
-Bellechasse, so as to form them early to habits of polite conversation.
-
-At the end of her account of her “academy,” Madame de Genlis sketches a
-series of portraits of her _élèves_. We are only interested in that of
-Pamela: “Pamela was loveliness itself; candour and sensibility were the
-chief traits of her character. She never told a falsehood, or employed
-the slightest deceit. She was a fascinating talker. Her chief fault was
-want of application. She had a very bad memory, and was thoughtless and
-impulsive. In person she was very active and light of foot. She ran like
-a wood nymph.”
-
- * * * * *
-
-It was part of the system of Bellechasse to interest its pupils in the
-great currents of thought which agitated the day. As early as 1786 the
-Countess had shown the popular and democratic direction she gave to the
-education of the princes of Orleans when the young Duke of Chartres,
-acting under her influence, destroyed the famous iron cage of Saint
-Michel.
-
-When the States General met in May, 1789, Madame de Genlis threw open
-the salon of Bellechasse to some of the more noted deputies. Among the
-names of its _habitués_ figure Barère and Brissot, Pétion, Tallyrand,
-Alexandre Lameth, and even Volney, Barneve, Alguié, the painter
-David—and Camille Desmoulins.
-
-The outbreak of the Revolution found the young princes and their father
-on the popular side, and their choice has been traced to the influence
-of Madame de Genlis.
-
-We get brief but very vivid glimpses of Pamela amid the gossip,
-enshrined in contemporary memoirs, which the Countess’s political action
-inspired. When the Duke of Orleans settled an annuity on her, she is
-said to have chosen Barère, then present at one of the Bellechasse
-Sunday receptions, as her guardian. She was seen, a striking figure on
-horseback, in riding habit and large black hat laden with black plumes,
-followed by two grooms in the Orleans livery of blue and red riding up
-and down between two lines of shrieking populace who proclaimed:
-“there’s the queen we want.” And on the day of the fall of the Bastille
-she was said to have been seen moving among the people all dressed in
-red, destined to draw all eyes to her.
-
-It seems much more probable that she assisted at this historic spectacle
-with the rest of Madame de Genlis’s pupils from the terrace of the new
-gardens of Beaumarchais which the latter had put at their disposition.
-
- * * * * *
-
-The indignation of the Duchess of Orleans at the direction given to her
-children’s political education by their “Governor” led to the latter’s
-dismissal in 1791. But the separation from her teacher had such a
-disastrous effect on the health of Mademoiselle d’Orléans that Madame de
-Genlis had to be recalled.
-
-In October, 1791, the Countess escorted Mademoiselle to England,
-accompanied by Pamela, Henriette de Sercey, and her little
-grand-daughter, Eglantine de Lawoestine. During this visit the Countess
-made the acquaintance of Sheridan, who had recently lost his beautiful
-wife. The resemblance of Pamela to his lost love (which is said to have
-later attracted Lord Edward) gained the heart of Sheridan, and he begged
-for her hand. His offer, it is said was accepted, and when the Duke of
-Orleans recalled his daughter to France, in order to avoid the penalties
-designed for “_émigrés_,” Pamela left England as the affianced bride of
-the distinguished dramatist.
-
-But there was waiting in Paris another lover than Sheridan—and it was
-he, though they had never seen each other up to this, with whom Pamela’s
-lot was to be bound up.
-
-One night at the theatre in Paris Lord Edward Fitzgerald saw in a _loge
-grillée_ an exquisite looking girl. He made inquiries, and having
-learned her identity, had himself presented to Madame de Genlis and her
-beautiful charge. The following day Madame de Genlis and Pamela, acting
-on the instructions of the Duke of Orleans, set out for Flanders, with
-Mademoiselle d’Orléans. They were followed by that ardent and impetuous
-wooer, Lord Edward Fitzgerald.
-
-At Tournay Lord Edward made formal proposals for Pamela’s hand, and his
-suit was accepted, on the condition of him receiving his family’s
-consent to the marriage.
-
-This consent the Duchess of Leinster, wise mother that she was, gave
-very readily, and within a fortnight, Lord Edward was back in London
-with his bride.
-
-The “good family” gave the warmest of welcomes to its new member. The
-diary of Lady Sophia Fitzgerald records the impression made on them by
-“Eddy’s dear little wife.” “We all took a prodigious fancy to her, and I
-do hope and trust Dearest Edward has met with a woman that will fix him
-at last, and likely to make him happy the remainder of his life. Besides
-being very handsome she is uncommonly sensible and agreeable, very
-pretty, with the most engaging pleasing manner I ever saw, and very much
-accomplished. They spent a fortnight with us in London before they went
-to Ireland where they are now.” Lady Sarah Napier, who was to be
-Pamela’s true friend to the end, fell in love with her at first sight.
-“I never saw,” she wrote to Lady Susan O’Brien, “such a sweet little,
-engaging, bewitching creature as Ly. Edward is, and childish to a degree
-with the greatest sense. The upper part of her face is like poor Mrs.
-Sheridan, the lower part like my beloved child Louise; of course I am
-disposed to dote upon her. I am _sure_ she is not _vile Egalité’s_
-child; it is impossible.”
-
-That letter of Lady Sarah’s is dated from Celbridge, February, 1793, and
-showed that by that time Pamela and her husband had arrived in Ireland.
-Into the gay social round of the Irish capital, the beautiful French
-girl entered _con brio_. “Dublin has been very gay,” Lord Edward writes
-to his mother in April, 1793, “a great number of balls, of which the
-lady misses none. Dancing is a great passion with her; I wish you could
-see her dance, you would delight in it, she dances so with all her heart
-and soul. Everybody seems to like her, and behave civilly and kindly to
-her. There was a kind of something about visiting with Lady Leitrim, but
-it is all over now. We dined there on Sunday, and she was quite
-pleasant, and Pamela likes her very much.”
-
-Unfortunately for Pamela’s happiness, her husband was wrong in thinking
-everybody seemed to like her. The ladies of the Ascendancy party hated
-her with all their hearts, and behaved with inconceivable rudeness to
-her. Her husband, ever since his return from Paris (whence the stories
-of his “revolutionary” doings had preceded him), had been a marked man
-for the “Old Gang,” and his bride’s supposed relationship to Egalité
-(who had recently been guilty of the infamy of voting for Louis XVI’s
-death) was not calculated to re-establish him with them. The vilest
-stories were set in circulation about poor Pamela. One lady is supposed
-to have seen her in the streets of Dublin “with a handkerchief on her
-neck spotted with Louis XVI’s blood; that some of her friends had sent
-from Paris.” When everybody else was in mourning for Louis, she is said
-to have worn red ribbons “which she said were _couleur du sang des
-Aristocrats_.”
-
-On one occasion the whim took her to go to a ball, dressed all in black
-with nothing to relieve the sombre effect, except the pink upon her
-head. The _Doblin Lidies_, according to her sister-in-law, Lady Lucy,
-“stared her out of countenance” and sent her home in a rage to Eddy.
-
-Her sisters-in-law, and specially Lady Sophia, were quick to see that it
-was jealousy of Pamela’s beauty and charm, her exquisite dancing, her
-French toilettes, her husband’s undisguised admiration—far more than
-their hatred of her and Lord Edward’s politics which made Dublin society
-so hostile to her. Other sections of Irish society worshipped her. We
-have a pretty picture of Lord Edward and her driving in a very high
-phaeton one day through College Green and Dame Street, amid the
-enthusiastic cheers of the multitude, who were raised to congenial
-heights of enthusiasm as much by her beauty as Lord Edward’s conspicuous
-green neck-cloth. Lord Edward’s boyish delight at the reception accorded
-them, and the impression produced by his bride’s beauty, was very
-delightful to witness.
-
-Nor was it the populace alone whom Pamela won by her beauty. Lord
-Charlemont, whose authority in all matters of taste was regarded as
-second to none in Europe, was charmed by her. Jepham was with him one
-day in 1793 in Charlemont house, when Pamela and Lord Edward came to
-view its treasures, and he wrote to his uncle describing the visit. “She
-is elegant and engaging in the highest degree, and showed the most
-judicious taste in her remarks about the library and curiosities. The
-Dublin ladies wish to put her down. She promised Lord Charlemont with
-great good humour to assist him in keeping her husband in order.... She
-was dressed in a plain riding habit, and they came to the door in a
-curricle.”[82]
-
-Footnote 82:
-
- Moore tells us that Lord Edward first introduced this style of vehicle
- into Ireland.
-
-The attitude of the women of her class whom she met in society, probably
-spoiled her party-going for her, and doubtless she was eager enough,
-before long, to share with her husband the quiet country life, which he
-loved so well. After a few months in the Duchess of Leinster’s charming
-seaside residence, Frescati, Blackrock (where Pamela had plenty of
-opportunity, in conjunction with the enthusiastic gardener, who was her
-husband, to put into practice the gardening lore she had acquired at
-Saint Leu) the young couple settled in a lodge belonging to Mr. Connolly
-(husband of Lady Louisa Connolly, Lord Edward’s aunt), in Kildare. Lord
-Edward has left in a letter to his mother, dated June 23rd, 1794, a
-charming description of the place, which was to be the setting for their
-lives during the short years that were destined for them to spend
-together. In that little cottage a good deal of Irish history was to be
-made in the short space of four years. Let us then look in it as Lord
-Edward has painted it for us—for, alas! no trace of it now remains.
-
-“After going up a little lane, and in at a close gate, you come on a
-little white house, with a small gravel court before it. You see but
-three small windows, the court surrounded by large old elms; one side of
-the house covered with shrubs, on the other side a tolerable large ash;
-upon the stairs going up to the house, two wicker cages, in which there
-are at this moment two thrushes, singing _à gorge déployée_. In coming
-into the house you find a small passage-hall very clean, the floor
-tiled; upon your left a small room; on the right, the staircase. In
-front you come into the parlour, a good room, with a bay window looking
-into the garden, which is a small green plot, surrounded by good trees,
-and in it three of the finest thorns I ever saw, and all the trees so
-placed that you may shade yourself from the sun all hours of the day;
-the bay window covered with honeysuckle, and up to the window some
-roses.
-
-“Going upstairs you find another bay-room, the honeysuckle almost up to
-it, and a little room the same size as that below; this, with a kitchen
-or servants’ hall below, is the whole house. There is, on the left, in
-the courtyard another building which makes a kitchen; it is covered by
-trees, so as to look pretty; at the back of it there is a yard, which
-looks into a lane. On the side of the house opposite the grass-plot,
-there is ground enough for a flower-garden, communicating with the front
-garden by a little walk.
-
-“The whole place is situated in a kind of rampart, of a circular form
-surrounded by a wall; which wall, towards the village, and lane is high,
-but covered with trees and shrubs—the trees old and large, giving a
-great deal of shade. Towards the country the wall is not higher than
-your knee, and this covered with bushes; from these open parts you have
-a view of a pretty cultivated country, till your eye is stopped by the
-Curragh. From our place there is a back way to these fields, so as to go
-out and walk without having to do with the town.
-
-“This, dearest mother, is the spot as well as I can give it to you, but
-it don’t describe well; one must see it and feel it; it is all the
-little peeps and ideas that go with it that make the beauty of it to me.
-My dear wife dotes on it, and becomes it. She is busy in her little
-American jacket, planting sweet peas and mignonette. Her table and
-workbox, with the little one’s caps, are on the table. I wish my dearest
-mother was here, and the scene to me would be complete.”
-
-The “little one,” portion of whose _layette_, with Pamela’s exquisite
-stitching, was then lying on the table, was born in Leinster House in
-October, 1794, and was christened Edward Fox Fitzgerald. While his wife
-and little son are gaining strength to travel, Lord Edward has been down
-at Kildare, two or three times, making all things “snug” for the
-delightful winter he promises himself there. He has laid in a generous
-provision of turf—two fine big clumps which look both “comfortable and
-pretty.” He has paled in his little flower garden before the hall door
-with a lath paling like the cottage, and filled it with roses and sweet
-briar, honeysuckle and Spanish broom. He has got his flower-beds all
-ready for their destined occupants. “The little fellow,” the proud
-father thinks, “will be a great addition to the party.” “I think,” he
-goes on, giving us a glimpse of his ideal of a happy life (and making us
-realise how hard a sacrifice his own fate demanded of him), “that when I
-am down there with Pam. and the child, of a blustery evening, with a
-good turf fire and a pleasant book, coming in, after seeing my poultry
-put up, my garden settled—flower-beds and plants covered for fear of
-frost—the place looking comfortable, and taken care of, I shall be as
-happy as possible; and sure I am I shall regret nothing but not being
-nearer my dearest mother, and her not being of our party.”
-
-In 1796 Lord Edward became a “United Man,” and from that period the
-little cottage in Kildare was seldom without guests. Chief among these
-was Lord Edward’s parliamentary colleague, Arthur O’Connor, but Lady
-Lucy Fitzgerald who spent a considerable time with her brother and
-sister-in-law after their return from Hamburg in October, 1796, mentions
-many others: Jackson, Oliver Bond, MacNevin, Father Connolly—and the
-sinister figure of Hughes, who, unknown to them all, was a government
-spy.
-
-The visit to Hamburg to which we have alluded, took place in May, 1796,
-and its supposed object was to give Pamela an opportunity of visiting
-Madame de Genlis, who was then living in Hamburg, as a guest of M.
-Matthiessen, who had married her niece, and Pamela’s schoolmate,
-Henrietta de Sercey. Lord Edward and Arthur O’Connor went really as
-agents of the United Irishmen to negotiate with the French Government
-for a French expedition to assist the Irish in freeing themselves from
-the yoke of England. The Matthiessens’ house in Hamburg became a centre
-of Irish political activities, and we learn from Froude and Fitzpatrick
-that the long unsuspected spy, Samuel Turner, got much of the
-information, for which he was pensioned by the English Government, by
-his frequentation of that house.
-
-It was at Hamburg, Pamela’s second child, her little daughter, Pamela,
-was born. She had left her boy with his grandmother in London, and when
-Lord Edward’s business was done, and they were in the English capital
-again on their way home to Ireland, little Eddie was given to the
-Duchess “for her very own.”
-
-Was his father clearing the decks for action? It would seem so. Two
-months after his return to Ireland the French were in Bantry Bay.
-
-In February of 1797, Arthur O’Connor was arrested for his address to the
-Electors of Antrim, and was lodged in Newgate. From this time Lord
-Edward was indefatigable in his activities. He was one of those who
-believed—as did the greater number of the Northern leaders—that the time
-had come “to rise,” without waiting any longer for the French aid, which
-had been such a rotten crutch to them. But the Dublin leaders,
-influenced by the more cautious counsel of men like John Keogh and
-MacCormick, were dead against the attempt. The moment passed—and affairs
-hastened to their tragic end.
-
-In February, 1798, Arthur O’Connor who had been liberated from his
-captivity in Birmingham Tower, Dublin Castle, after six months stay
-there, was again arrested with Father Quigley at Margate, on his way to
-France, on a political mission. Among O’Connor’s papers were found
-documents incriminating Lord Edward. But the Government were loth from
-his family and political connections to proceed against him. Even Lord
-Castlereagh entreated his aunt, Lady Louisa Connolly, to get him to
-leave the country, and much pressure was put on Pamela to influence him
-to seek safety in flight.
-
-It was in vain. Lord Edward refused to desert his post; and whatever
-remained to be endured he would endure it even to the end.
-
-We must leave him for a time, passing from hiding place to hiding place
-between the fatal March 12th when the other leaders were captured, until
-May the 19th, when he himself was run to earth at Murphy’s, while we
-turn to the poor little frightened wife, who with no kind friend near at
-hand to console her, lonely and desolate in a foreign land, with her
-little helpless child, must bear her woman’s burden, and go through her
-woman’s hour of mortal anguish all alone. After Lord Edward went “on his
-keeping” she found it desirable to leave Leinster House for a less
-conspicuous lodging in Denzille Street, whither she went with no other
-companion than her maid and Lord Edward’s black servant, the faithful
-Tony. Once or twice Lord Edward managed to see her. Once the maid, going
-into Lady Edward’s room, found him sitting in the firelight with her,
-and both of them weeping over little two-year-old Pamela who had been
-roused from her cot that her father might see her.
-
-In April, Pamela’s third child, a little girl called Lucy, was
-born—prematurely, as Moore informs us, owing to a fright caused the poor
-mother by the risk run by her husband in order to see her again. It has
-been asserted, somewhere, that so high was the political feeling of the
-period that no doctor could be found to attend Lady Edward. For the
-honour of Ireland it is pleasing to be able to contradict this
-assertion, on the unassailable authority of Lady Sarah Napier. Lady
-Moira “mothered” the desolate creature, and saw that as far as nurse and
-doctor went, there was nothing to be desired.
-
-When Pamela recovered, her kind friend took her to Moira House, and it
-was there the news of Lord Edward’s capture on May the 18th reached her.
-
-Three days later, Government ordered Lady Edward to leave Ireland. The
-order, which it was not possible for her to disobey, caused her the most
-heartbreaking distress. But she was spared, then at least, the grief of
-knowing that Lord Edward’s wounds were fatal.
-
-We know from Charles H. Teeling that she made her way into Newgate, in
-spite of Lord Castlereagh’s refusal—and we know that it was the same
-chivalrous, romantic boy who took on himself the perilous duty of
-escorting her. He had known Lady Edward in the happy days when the eager
-young band of patriots gathered in Kildare Lodge, and his brother, poor
-Bartle, saw in Lady Lucy (as so many have seen her in the loved form of
-some fair, living woman) the realisation of his dreams of Kathleen Ni
-Houlihan. The sense of chivalry and romance which was for so much in the
-heart of young Charles Teeling made the lad one of the most devoted
-knights whom Pamela’s fascination enlisted in her service. “Formed to
-charm every heart, and command every arm that had not been enlisted in
-the cause of Ireland”—it is thus, thirty years after, he remembers her.
-“Ireland was her constant theme, and Edward’s glory the darling object
-of her ambition. She entered into all his views; she had a noble and
-heroic soul, but the softer feelings of her sex would sometimes betray
-the anxiety with which she anticipated the approaching contest, and as
-hopes and fears alternately influenced her mind, she expressed them with
-all the sensibility characteristic of her country. In the most sweet and
-impressive tone of voice, rendered still more interesting by her foreign
-accent, and imperfect English, she would, with unaffected simplicity,
-implore us to protect her Edward. ‘You are all good Irish,’ she would
-say; ‘Irish are all good and brave, and _Edward is Irish_—your Edward
-and my Edward,’ while her dark brilliant eye, rivetted on the manly
-countenance of her lord, borrowed fresh lustre from the tear which she
-vainly endeavoured to conceal. These were to me some of the most
-interesting moments I have experienced, and memory still retraces them
-with a mingled feeling of pleasure and pain.”
-
- * * * * *
-
-It was the kind-hearted Duke of Richmond, the uncle of Lord Edward, who
-had the sad office of breaking to Pamela the news of her husband’s death
-in Newgate on June the 4th. “I went immediately to Harley Street,” he
-writes to Mr. Ogilvie, “and brought Lady Edward here (to Whitehall)
-trying to prepare her in the coach for the bad news, which I repeatedly
-said I dreaded by the next post. She, however, did not take my meaning.
-When she got here, we had Dr. Moseley present, and by degrees we broke
-to her the sad event. Her agonies of grief were very great, and violent
-hysterics soon came on. When the Duke of Leinster came in, she took him
-for Edward, and you may imagine how cruel a scene it was. But by
-degrees, though very slow ones, she grew more calm at times; and
-although she has had little sleep, and still less food, and has nervous
-spasms, yet I hope and trust her health is not materially affected....
-She is as reasonable as possible, and shows great goodness of heart in
-the constant enquiries she is making about my sister, Lady Lucy, and
-Mrs. Lock.”[83]
-
-Footnote 83:
-
- _Née_ Cecilia Ogilvie, daughter of the Duchess of Leinster by her
- second marriage.
-
-After some months under the Duke of Richmond’s hospitable roof at
-Goodwood, it was decided, after a family consultation, that Pamela
-should join the Matthiesens at Hamburg. Leaving her son with the Duchess
-of Leinster, and baby Lucy with Lady Sophia at Thames Ditton, she set
-off with her little daughter Pamela and reached Hamburg on August 13th,
-1798. The action of Government, in passing the posthumous Act of
-Attainder against her husband had left her penniless, and a small sum,
-to which each member of the Fitzgerald family was to contribute his or
-her mite was promised her by her people-in-law for her own and little
-Pamela’s support. This sum was, it would appear, not very punctually
-paid (the Duchess explained that at the time they could barely keep
-themselves), and, perhaps, it was owing to her financial embarrassment
-that Pamela took the unfortunate resolution of marrying Mr. Pitcairn,
-the American Consul at Hamburg. The marriage turned out unhappily, and
-the parties soon separated.
-
-After that Pamela, leaving Hamburg, spent a year in Vienna. Finally she
-settled in France, first at Montaubon and afterwards in Paris, where she
-died in great poverty, but amidst the most consoling manifestations of
-Our Dear Lord’s tenderness, for this poor little wandering lamb of His
-flock, who after her straying, had come back to its sheltering fold.
-
-The niece of Madame de Genlis, Madame Ducrest, then a struggling music
-teacher in Paris, to whom Pamela out of her own slender resources had
-found means to be kind, came to nurse the poor sick woman. Her first
-care, when she saw the danger, was to send for a holy priest, M. L’Abbé
-de la Madeleine. “He came. His zeal, his persuasive eloquence, the
-simple unction of his exhortations did far more for her peace of soul
-than we had dared to hope. He inspired our dear invalid with a true joy
-at quitting this world, where she had suffered so much.”
-
-The numbered moments of her life passed rapidly and now _the_ hour had
-come. Sister Ursula, the Sister of Charity, who shared with Madame
-Ducrest the office of nurse, began to recite the prayers for the
-departing soul. “The sufferer even then replied aloud: insensibly her
-voice became broken and feeble, and at length the words became
-unintelligible, though her lips still moved in prayer. Very soon her
-eyes, which were raised to Heaven, grew dull, her hands grasped
-convulsively the crucifix which she held, and in a few moments she was
-no more.”
-
-
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
-
-
-
-
- THE SISTER OF HENRY JOY McCRACKEN
-
-
-
-
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
-
-
-
-
- The Sister of Henry Joy McCracken
-
- MARY ANNE MCCRACKEN (1770-1866)[84]
-
- “I have been coming all the night long
- Like a little lamb in the midst of a great flock of sheep
- And how should I find my little brother but he dead before me.”
- —_The Keen for Fair-Haired Donough._
-
-Footnote 84:
-
- _Authorities_: Madden’s “United Irishmen” (Vol. II., Second Series,
- First Edition, 1843); Robert M. Young, “Historical Notices of Old
- Belfast,” 1896.
-
-
-“I THINK of all human loves that of a Sister is the most abiding and
-unselfish. In a mother’s love there is a kind of identification with her
-child, his triumphs, his defeats, which by the reflection on herself
-takes away the absolute disinterestedness. Conjugal love is more
-intense, but for that reason more intermittent. But there’s not a trace
-of self in that earnest wistful gaze which a beloved sister casts after
-the poor young fellow who has just gone out from the sanctity of
-home-life into the world’s arena; nor a thought of self in the way the
-silent heart broods over shattered hopes, and takes back to its
-sanctuary the broken relics of the idol, once worshipped, now, alas!
-only to be protected from the gaze of a scornful world.”[85]
-
-Footnote 85:
-
- “Under the Cedars and the Stars,” p. 192.
-
-Alas! Alas! That it should have been of two French women Canon Sheehan
-was thinking, and not of our own Mary Anne McCracken, when he paid
-tribute, thus nobly, to a sister’s love as “of all human loves, the most
-abiding and unselfish.” It might have been her story, and not that of
-some alien Laura Balzac or Madame Perrier, that was told in those moving
-words. It is _her_ image, at all events, that comes before _our_ eyes
-when Canon Sheehan pictures “the earnest wistful gaze” with which a
-loving sister follows the brother of her heart, as he passes from the
-holy shelter of the home to the “world’s arena.” How often did that gaze
-follow young Henry Joy McCracken as he rode forth from the door of the
-old house in Rosemary Street on his perilous journeys with Charles
-Teeling among “the Defenders”! What sister ever loved a brother like
-this heroic country-woman of ours? When the Cause was lost at Antrim and
-the broken remnants of the Spartan band were making a last stand on “the
-hallowed hills,” it was she who braved all dangers to steal forth to him
-and bring him succour of comfort and hope. It was she who walked with
-him to the scaffold; who received his poor mangled form into her arms;
-whose woman’s resourceful bravery held, as it were, the gates of death
-apart, while the surgeons tried to snatch back his soul from beyond
-them. It was she who accompanied his body to the grave, and heard the
-first shovelful of earth fall on his coffin—before she turned back to
-take up new duties and new sacrifices. Then in the dark days when men
-veritably “feared to speak of ’Ninety-Eight, and blushed at the name,”
-it was she who treasured the memory of the dead, and held fast to the
-hopes and ideals for which they had laid down their lives. And at last
-when, in the fullness of time, one came who made it his life-work to
-tell their story truly to the world, she was there with her rich store
-of memories to help in that great work. Again and again Dr. Madden
-quotes Mary Anne McCracken as his authority for some of the facts he
-states, or incidents he relates, and his tribute to her personality is
-that of one who was brought into most intimate relations with her. “The
-name of Mary McCracken,” he writes, “has become associated in the north
-with that of her beloved brother. The recollection of every act of his
-seems to have been stored up in her mind, as if she felt the charge of
-his reputation had been committed to her especial care.... In that
-attachment there are traits to be noticed indicative not only of
-singleness of heart, and benevolence of disposition; but of a noble
-spirit of heroism, strikingly displayed in the performance of perilous
-duties, of services rendered at the hazard of life, at great pecuniary
-sacrifices, not only to that dear brother, but at a later period to his
-faithful friend, the unfortunate Thomas Russell. Perhaps to those who
-move in the busy haunts of life, and become familiarised with the
-circumscribed views and actions of worldly-minded people, the rare
-occurrence of qualities of another kind, which seem to realise the
-day-dreams of one’s early years, an excellence of disposition devoid of
-all selfishness, devoted to all goodness, capable of all sacrifices, and
-constant in all trials—that shakes not in adversity, and becomes
-insensible to fear where the safety of friends and kindred is in
-question, in one who seems to be utterly unconscious of her own
-nobleness of mind, may appear worthy of admiration.”
-
-The little maid, whose long life of ninety-six years was to witness such
-strange happenings, was born in High Street, Belfast, on July the 8th,
-1770. Her father, John McCracken, was captain and part owner of a vessel
-trading between Belfast and the West Indies. He was of Scottish descent,
-his family having settled in Ireland when the Covenanters were fleeing
-from Claverhouse. They settled at Hill Hall near Lisburn, and here John
-McCracken was born. At an early age he formed a strong attachment to a
-charming young girl of Huguenot descent called Anne Joy, only daughter
-of Francis Joy, a conveyancer, and notary public, who, a pioneer in many
-things, is perhaps best remembered as the founder of the _Belfast
-Newsletter_ in 1737. Captain McCracken is described by Madden as “a man
-of polished manners, whose sincerity of disposition and integrity of
-principles caused him to be generally respected and esteemed.” It was
-noted of him by his daughter, as a proof of his integrity, that in the
-days when smuggling was regarded as a very venial offence, Captain
-McCracken would not smuggle nor allow his sailors to do so, “as he
-considered a custom-house oath as binding on conscience as any other.” A
-still more striking instance of his integrity and his children’s
-reliance on it, was furnished on the occasion of Harry’s trial when he
-was offered his son’s life on condition that he induced the latter to
-disclose the name of the leader, whose place the prisoner had taken in
-the Rising. He told the tempter, Pollock, that “he would rather his son
-died than that he should do a dishonourable action.”
-
-That steadfast character of John McCracken’s, which he transmitted to
-his children, was, it may be, a heritage from his mother—a stern old
-Covenanting lady, very strict in her religious beliefs, and most
-uncompromising in her principles. Her grandchildren, who had a keen
-sense of humour, used to relate with much zest, the damper put on their
-youthful enjoyment of Christmas by seeing their venerable grandmother
-seated ostentatiously at her spinning-wheel, her whole being one
-vehement protest against the Christmas observances and festivities. They
-were all in considerable awe of her, and when she uttered maledictions
-they felt certain they would come to pass. On one occasion, in 1763,
-Captain McCracken, having occasion to spend some time in Liverpool, to
-superintend the construction of a new vessel, brought his young wife
-with him, leaving their two children, Francis and Margaret, in the care
-of Grandmother McCracken. The venerable lady, who did not approve of
-“gadding about,” fervently prayed that her flighty daughter-in-law
-“might get a scare before coming back.” “And in truth I did, my dears,”
-the latter would say, as she told the story to her children afterwards,
-“my husband not wishing me to return on the new and untried vessel, sent
-me home before him. The ship was wrecked on the South Rock near
-Ballywalter, and we were only saved by getting into the boat; and I had
-to wade a long distance in shallow water, with a weight of two hundred
-guineas in my pocket.”
-
-If the grandmother was stern and forbidding, and inspired more fear than
-love in the children of the household, their sweet mother was quite the
-reverse. She was “remarkable for a uniform cheerfulness of temper, and
-benevolence of mind that endeared her to young people as well as to the
-aged.” With this sweetness of disposition she passed on to her children
-as a further portion of their heritage from the Joys, an alert and
-enterprising habit of mind, keen to see, and seize new opportunities;
-and that steadfastness of the Joys, which, for all its Gallic urbanity,
-was at least the equal of the McCracken’s. Anne Joy’s father, in
-addition to his pioneer work in the newspaper world, was also a pioneer
-in the linen manufacture. In 1749 he established at Randalstown “a
-complete new mill for dressing flax ... which will dress 14℔. of flax in
-an hour, fit for the heckle.” He was keenly interested in politics, and,
-when an old man, confined to his couch by a disease in his leg, had
-himself conveyed to Antrim, on the occasion of an election, to vote for
-Rowley and O’Neill, the popular candidates. His son, Robert, meeting him
-there, said: “What brought you here, Sir?” “The good of my country,” was
-the reply. The side for which he voted was triumphant, but the day that
-the members were chaired he died.
-
-His two sons, Robert and Henry, were remarkable men. It was they, who,
-with Captain John McCracken and Thomas MacCabe (“the Irish Slave”)
-introduced the cotton industry into Belfast—and with it laid the
-foundations of the present prosperity of that city. Young Henry Joy
-McCracken, who had an extraordinary gift for mechanics and was as clever
-with his hands as any prestidigitator, was sent to England and Scotland
-to ferret out the carefully guarded mechanical secrets of the British
-cotton manufacturers—and accomplished his mission in a manner which will
-furnish an exciting chapter in Irish industrial history—when it comes to
-be written. Belfast of to-day has little thought to spare for the
-“United Men”—but it should not forget what it owes to Henry Joy
-McCracken—to him who died for the cause which so many in Belfast to-day
-are sworn to destroy: “a brotherhood of affection, an identity of
-interests, a communion of rights, and a union of power among Irishmen of
-all religious persuasions.”
-
-To Henry and Robert Joy, Belfast owed likewise the “Old Poorhouse,” the
-first shelter devised for Belfast’s poor. The little Joys and McCrackens
-were early interested in the poor old men and women, and especially in
-the children; and, as they grew up, they were active workers in their
-behalf—getting up dances, and concerts and collections for the
-institution. It was partly in the design of procuring funds for the Poor
-House (as well as to give employment to the linen weavers during periods
-of depression in their own trade) that the Joys first turned their
-attention to the cotton trade. The managers of the Poor House rejected
-the offer made by Robert Joy to instal the new machinery (which Harry
-McCracken’s cleverness had made it possible to erect in Ireland), and to
-carry on the manufacture of cotton as a regular part of their routine,
-and a means of making the institution self-supporting. They allowed,
-however, the children to go to work in the mill which the firm of Joy,
-MacCabe and McCracken presently established.
-
-Come of such strains as has been indicated, both on the paternal and
-maternal side, is it any wonder that the children of John and Anne
-McCracken should have been endowed with uncommon gifts both of body and
-mind and soul? They were a numerous tribe—but, as was so usual with
-these large eighteenth-century families, only a certain proportion of
-them survived the ordeals of childhood. Of these, four were boys:
-Francis, William, Henry Joy, and John; and two were girls: Margaret and
-Mary Anne. The latter was the youngest but one, of the family, and was
-ten years the junior of her sister.
-
-Mary Anne was considered delicate in her youth, and it was feared she
-was in consumption. On this account she was kept on a low diet—an
-astonishing treatment, to our modern notions. But the treatment seems to
-have been successful; for in her hale and hearty old age she could
-remark in her humorous way: “I have been a long time consuming away.”
-She was an active child, and she used to tell her grandnieces with much
-pride how she accomplished the feat of hopping on one leg right across
-High Street three times without stopping.
-
-The school routine of a little Belfast maiden in the latter decades of
-the eighteenth century was not unlike that with which the entertaining
-journal of Anna Greene Winslow, a small Boston schoolgirl contemporary,
-makes us familiar. There was a separate school for English, another for
-writing; in addition girls had to attend a sewing and knitting school.
-In all these branches Mary became very proficient. Her needlework was
-exquisite. She was fond of reading, and read only the best authors. Her
-letters, some of which will be quoted in due course, are admirable. One
-wishes, as one reads them and those of Elizabeth and Jane Emmet and
-Matilda Tone, that the delightful art were revived by the teachers of
-the girls of to-day.
-
-Captain John McCracken, being a travelled man and an admirer of the
-French nation, wished to have his children taught French. Belfast of
-that day supplied, it would appear, no better teacher than an old French
-weaver who had picked up his knowledge of English on the banks of the
-Lagan, and thought it the correct thing to translate his native tongue
-into the idiom of that classic region. Mary Anne used to relate
-afterwards, with great enjoyment that his translation of _il faut_
-always took the form, “_it be to be_.”
-
-When Mary was in her teens the family left the house in High Street and
-went to a larger one in Rosemary Street. Two of the boys, William and
-John, married, but the family circle was not thus broken up for they
-brought their brides to live under the paternal roof in the patriarchal
-fashion of the period. So numerous were the inmates of the McCracken
-home, after a time, that their friends referred to it as “Noah’s Ark,”
-the appropriateness of the name being emphasised by the number of dogs,
-and cats, and other pet animals, who shared with the humans, the
-domicile.
-
-One young man who was destined to leave an honoured name for his labours
-in the cause of Irish music was for many years a member of the McCracken
-household: Edward Bunting. He came to them in 1785 a young lad of
-eleven, sent by his brother, Anthony, from Drogheda to become apprentice
-to Mr. Ware, the organist of St. Anne’s Church, Belfast, and he remained
-with them for upwards of forty years. This frank hospitality gives us a
-pleasant insight into the spirit of the McCracken household. They were
-all intensely musical, and many a delightful evening was spent around
-“Atty’s” pianoforte when the McCrackens and Joys were reinforced by a
-numerous troop of Neilsons, Simmses, McTiers, and so on.
-
-Much as Mary loved all her brothers and sisters, she loved Harry best of
-all. Was it to be wondered at? For the tall lad with his handsome,
-high-bred face, his graceful person, his charm of manner, exercised a
-remarkable fascination over all who came in contact with him. While yet
-a schoolboy his companions adored him for his courage and spirit of
-adventure, and admired his steadfastness and his unrivalled quickness of
-perception. As he grew up he became a great favourite in society, for
-which he possessed a very remarkable equipment of accomplishments. He
-was a clever mimic, but while delighting his friends with his skill in
-this direction, never allowed himself to wound the most sensitive
-feelings. The same considerations governed the exercise of his rich gift
-of humour.
-
-The first break in “Noah’s Ark” took place when Harry left home to take
-up his quarters on the Falls Road near the cotton factory. About the
-same time the female members of the family, Mrs. McCracken, Margaret and
-Mary Anne, commenced, on a somewhat more extended scale, the business of
-muslin manufacturers, in which John McCracken had already been
-interested since 1779.[86] Her grandniece informs us that “Mary was the
-moving spirit of the business, and worked early and late. She has said
-that so closely confined was she at times that, when going to the
-post-office before breakfast, she felt inclined to leap and dance with
-delight in the fresh morning air. Her chief object in trying to make
-money was that she might have some of her own to give away as she
-wished. She was of a very sanguine temperament and did not spare
-herself, and to some extent she succeeded in her object; but, perhaps
-the times were against her. She had much struggling and anxiety, and the
-ultimate result was disappointing.”
-
-Footnote 86:
-
- An affidavit preserved in the McCracken MSS. proves that “the first
- piece of muslin ever woven” in Belfast or its vicinage was woven by
- Thos. Burnside for John McCracken in January, 1779.
-
-Those were stirring times in which Mary McCracken grew to womanhood; and
-even a duller mind, than that which was housed in the fragile form of
-this little Belfast girl, must have been stimulated in the atmosphere of
-great ideas, which was her daily breathing. She was five years old when
-the Battle of Lexington was fought, and eleven when Cornwallis
-surrendered at Yorktown; and the great battles for liberty that marked
-the years from 1775 to 1781 were distant in space only from the rising
-city on the Lagan, which followed their fortunes with an interest so
-passionate. It was the war of liberation of their own flesh and blood
-which the Belfast men knew was being waged across the dividing Atlantic.
-It was the doctrines of civil and political freedom which had been borne
-in the emigrant ships from Ireland that were vindicated at Bunker’s
-Hill, at Trenton, at Princeton, at Saratoga. Is it to be wondered at,
-that, young as she was, Mary McCracken followed the story of the
-American War with a sympathy and understanding beyond her years? She was
-nine years old when the “armed men” who had sprung forth on Ireland’s
-soil from the sowed “dragon’s teeth” of England’s laws, formed in their
-splendid ranks on the Falls Road—the first Volunteers of Ireland. Her
-brother Frank was one of those who wore their gallant uniform. She was
-twelve years old when the Volunteer Convention at Dungannon made certain
-the granting of Grattan’s demands for the liberty of the Irish
-Parliament. She was ripe enough to apprehend the lessons contained in
-the failure of that Parliament and to trace it to its true origin. She
-was nineteen when the great news came from Paris, and Liberty sprang
-forth full armed to claim the world, from the mighty ruins of the
-Bastille.
-
- “Bliss was it in that dawn to be alive—
- But to be young was very _heaven_!”
-
-[Illustration:
-
- THE CUP TOSSERS
- Mary McCracken, as the old Gipsy, and one of the Teeling girls are
- said to have sat for this picture by Crowley.
-]
-
-In 1790 there came to Belfast, as an officer in the 64th Regiment, a
-young man who was destined to exercise a memorable influence on the fate
-of Mary McCracken, and the brother who was so dear to her. She had just
-completed her teens when Thomas Russell made his appearance in her
-native city—and won for ever her faithful heart. Alas! that he never
-suspected the treasure that was his! He himself was eating out his own
-heart for the beautiful Bess Goddard; and when Miss Goddard married Mr.
-Kington, Russell fell in love with Miss Simms. When he came to Belfast
-in 1803 it was Miss Simms of whom he dreamt. Mary McCracken was for him
-as a sister infinitely dear, a comrade infinitely staunch and true in
-the great Cause. But she was nothing more; and with an unconscious
-cruelty which only the blindness caused by his absorption in his own
-hopeless passion for another can excuse, he made her the _confidante_ of
-his love for Miss Simms.
-
-It is through the eyes of Mary McCracken that we of to-day are permitted
-to see Thomas Russell. So living and breathing is the portrait, for
-which a woman’s love has mixed the colours, that though Russell has been
-lying for one hundred and fifteen years in the grave which she made for
-him in Downpatrick, it seems to us as if we might have passed him in the
-streets to-day.
-
-“A model of manly beauty, he was one of those favoured individuals whom
-one cannot pass in the street without being guilty of the rudeness of
-staring in the face while passing, and turning round to look at the
-receding figure. Though more than six feet high, his majestic stature
-was scarcely observed owing to the exquisite symmetry of his form.
-Martial in gait and demeanour, his appearance was not altogether that of
-a soldier. His dark and steady eye, compressed lip, and somewhat haughty
-bearing were occasionally strongly indicative of the camp; but in
-general the classic contour of his finely formed head, the expression of
-almost infantile sweetness which characterised his smile, and the
-benevolence that beamed in his fine countenance seemed to mark him out
-as one who was destined to be the ornament, grace and blessing of
-private life. His voice was deep-toned and melodious and though his
-conversational powers were not of the first order, yet, when roused to
-enthusiasm, he was sometimes more than eloquent. His manners were those
-of the finished gentleman, combined with that native grace which nothing
-but superiority of intellect can give. There was a reserved and somewhat
-haughty stateliness in his mien, which to those who did not know him had
-at first the appearance of pride; but as it gave way before the warmth
-and benevolence of his disposition, it soon became evident that the
-defect, if it were one, was caused by the too sensitive delicacy of a
-noble soul; and those who knew him loved him the more for his reserve,
-and thought they saw something attractive in the very repellingness of
-his manner.”
-
-We have already related in other _Memoirs_ of this series[87] some of
-the memorable events which followed the arrival of Russell in Belfast:
-the visit of Tone, which led to the foundation of the United Irishmen
-(1791); the establishment of the _Northern Star_ (1792); the military
-raids of 1793, etc.; the reception accorded to Tone and his family on
-their way to America in 1795. In all these events the McCrackens, and
-Mary in particular, were keenly interested. She was a diligent reader of
-the _Star_, and it is recorded that after her recovery from a fever her
-first exclamation was: “Oh! I have missed so many _Stars_!”
-
-Footnote 87:
-
- Principally those of Matilda Tone and Anne Neilson.
-
-In September, 1796, Government, which had already marked with intense
-displeasure the efforts made by young Protestant patriots like H. J.
-McCracken, Lowry and Tennant, on the one hand, and Young Catholic
-patriots like C. H. Teeling and his brother-in-law, John Magennis, on
-the other, to allay the religious feuds then devastating Ulster, swooped
-down on the most active agents of this policy of reconciliation. On the
-same day as C. H. Teeling was arrested in Lisburn, Russell and Neilson
-were arrested in Belfast. A month later Henry Joy McCracken was taken
-up; and in the spring of the following year, his brother, William.
-
-As soon as the prisoners received (through the efforts of Lord O’Neill)
-permission to see their relatives, the McCracken girls, accompanied by
-William’s wife, paid a visit to Dublin, to be near the brothers. We find
-them again in Dublin the following year, when their influence, combined
-with that of Mrs. Neilson, brought about a reconciliation between Harry
-and Samuel Neilson, both whose tempers had suffered considerably from
-the wear and tear of prison _régime_ and close confinement.
-
-In the autumn of 1797 the McCrackens were released from Kilmainham.
-Harry’s health was so much shaken by what he had undergone during his
-imprisonment, that for some time his life was despaired of. But early in
-the fatal year ’98, we find him as active as ever in organising the
-Union. In February he went to Dublin on business connected with it, and
-he remained there until the eve of the Rising in May.
-
-It is a matter of history now that Henry Joy McCracken became
-Commander-in-Chief of the Insurgent forces in the north only three or
-four days before the outbreak, and only in consequence of the arrest of
-Dickson, the original commander-in-chief, and the cowardice of the
-gentleman appointed to replace him. All that one man could do to make
-the most of a situation, even then desperate, was done by McCracken. But
-it was of no avail. On June the 7th the battle of Antrim was fought and
-lost; and Harry McCracken, and Jamie Hope and the faithful few who had
-refused to lower the Banner of Green were on the hills “on their
-keeping.”
-
-And now it will be our privilege to hear Mary McCracken herself, tell
-the end of Henry’s story in her own most moving words:
-
- “Some days after the battle of Antrim, not having received any
- intelligence of my brother, I set out in pursuit of him,
- accompanied by Mrs. M.——, sister of John Shaw, of Belfast, who
- wished to get some information respecting her husband and also a
- brother of Mrs. Shaw. We went towards the White House and made
- some enquiries in the neighbourhood. In the evening we joined J.
- McG. at the country residence of Mr. John Brown, a banker, then
- in England, whose gardener, Cunningham, had given shelter
- occasionally to the wanderers. At nightfall this man took us to
- a house near the Cave Hill, belonging to John Brier, whom I knew
- a little, where we got a bed that night. In the morning I urged
- Mrs. M. to return home, which she generously refused, although
- she had gained the information she required. She insisted on
- accompanying me. Her husband had got safe into Belfast,
- disguised as a countryman with a basket of eggs, and was then
- safe in Mr. Shaw’s house; he had been at the battle of Antrim
- also. The next day we continued our search, and at last met with
- Gawin Watt and another person, who promised to take us in the
- evening to a place where we would get intelligence. The latter
- took us to a smith’s house, on the lime-stone road to Antrim....
-
- “In the back room of this man’s house we found about eight of
- the fugitives in consultation as to what should be done. I
- recommended them strongly to separate and return to their homes,
- if they could with safety. They replied that there was something
- in view, but in the event of its not taking place, they would
- follow my advice. Three of the party undertook to escort us; we
- travelled up hill, across fields, drains and ditches, for two
- hours ... when we arrived at the Bowhill, where my dear brother
- and six others (James Hope, one of the number) were sitting on
- the brow of the hill, Henry seemed surprised and rejoiced at the
- meeting, and after sitting with the party for a long time,
- talking over their adventures and escapes, he conducted us to a
- house where we were received in darkness, the woman of the house
- not daring to light a candle, or make the fire blaze. I insisted
- on Mrs. M. occupying the only chair for the remainder of the
- night, while I took a low stool and rested my head on her lap.
- My brother was to be with us at seven in the morning; we thought
- that night very long, but when seven o’clock came, and no Harry
- appeared, we became very uneasy.... He came at last, having
- waited for the others till after two o’clock. We then set out on
- our way home, and he accompanied us a little way, wishing to see
- McG., whom we sent out to him.”
-
-About ten days afterwards, Mary received a letter from Harry, and a
-little later she had another meeting with him at the house of a poor
-labourer, called David Bodle, near Cave Hill. Arrangements were made to
-get the fugitive off to America under an assumed name, but on his way to
-the coast he was captured.
-
- “It was on Sunday afternoon, July 8th, my birthday, that we got
- intelligence of Harry’s capture.... My father and I set off
- immediately for Carrickfergus, and with difficulty obtained
- permission to visit him; the officer, who accompanied us
- politely standing at a distance, not to prevent our
- conversation. Having desired me not to use any solicitations on
- his account; and after expressing to me his wishes on many
- matters, he desired me to tell my brother John to come to him.
- My mother had sent him a favourite book of his, Young’s ‘Night
- Thoughts,’ and I observed a line from it written on the wall of
- his cell:
-
- “‘A friend’s worth all the hazard we can run.’
-
- “We remained all night in Carrickfergus, and tried the next
- morning to see him again; but were not admitted. We saw him,
- however, through the window of his cell, when he gave me a ring,
- with a green shamrock engraved on the outside, and the words,
- ‘Remember Orr,’ on the inside, which he desired me to give to
- his mother. Since her death it has remained with me. On the
- 16th, he was brought in a prisoner to Belfast, in the evening.
- My sister and I immediately set out to try if we could see him.
- He was then standing, with a strong escort of soldiers who were
- drawn up on the middle of Castle place. We could not speak to
- him there. He was then taken to the artillery barracks in Ann
- Street.”
-
-After a brutal refusal from Colonel Durham, the sisters at length
-obtained, from the humanity of Colonel Barber, admission to their
-brother. At this interview Harry requested that his cousins, Mrs. Holmes
-and Miss Mary Toomb, should be called as witnesses on his behalf.
-
- “I arose at six, and set out in a carriage for the place where
- Miss Toomb was then staying with a lady, near Lisburn. I
- endeavoured to keep up her spirits as well as I could, fearing
- from the state of grief and anxiety she was in, she would be
- unable to give evidence. She came with me, and on arriving in
- town, July the 17th, I proceeded to the Exchange, where the
- trial was just commenced. The moment I set my eyes on him I was
- struck with the extraordinary serenity and composure of his
- look. This was no time to think about such things, but yet I
- could not help gazing on him; it seemed to me that I had never
- seen him look so well, so full of healthful bloom, so free from
- the slightest trace of care or trouble, as at that moment, when
- he was perfectly aware of his approaching fate.
-
- “I sat very near the table when the trial was going on. Colonel
- Montgomery was President. The first witness called was Minis.
- The other witness, James Beck, a poor miserable-looking
- creature, swore that he had seen him at Antrim, and knew him by
- a mark on his throat, which mark was not seen until his
- neckerchief was taken off.”
-
-James Hope learned afterwards from a soldier on guard that morning that
-neither of the witnesses had ever set eyes on McCracken until that day,
-when he was pointed out to them by an officer, who also told them of the
-mark on his throat.
-
- “Immediately preceding the examination of the witnesses, my
- father, who was just recovering from a severe and tedious fit of
- sickness, and who appeared to be sinking beneath the weight of
- old age and affliction, was called aside by Pollock, who told
- him that he had such evidence against his son as would certainly
- hang him; that his life was in his hands, and that he would save
- it, if my father would persuade him to give such information as
- Pollock knew it was in his power to do, namely, who the person
- was who had been appointed to command the people at Antrim, in
- whose place he (McCracken) had acted. My father replied, that
- ‘he knew nothing, and could do nothing in the matter: he would
- rather his son died than do a dishonourable action.’ The tyrant,
- however, not content with the trial of his virtue, would torture
- him still farther by calling Harry to the conference, and
- repeated the same offer to himself, who, well knowing his
- father’s sentiments, answered that ‘he would do anything which
- his father knew it would be right for him to do.’ Pollock
- repeated the offer, in which my father said, ‘Harry, my dear, I
- know nothing of the business, but you know best what you ought
- to do.’ Harry then said, ‘Farewell, father,’ and returned to the
- table to abide the issue of the trial. After I left him, I was
- told that Major Fox went up to him and asked him for the last
- time if he would give information, at which he smiled, and said,
- ‘he wondered how Major Fox could suppose him to be such a
- villain.’...
-
- “After the examination of the witnesses, I rose and went forward
- to the table; I stated what appeared to me to be unlike truth in
- the evidence that had been given by the witnesses for the
- prosecution, expressing a hope that they would not consider such
- evidence sufficient to take away life; the testimony of one
- witness impeaching the character and credit of the approver, on
- whose statements the charge was mainly dependent for support.
-
- “Harry had taken notes of the trial, and before its termination
- said to me in a whisper, ‘You must be prepared for my
- conviction’; all his friends could then do for him was to
- endeavour to get his sentence commuted to banishment. Before the
- close of the proceedings I hastened home with this intelligence,
- and my mother went instantly to General Nugent’s house, and
- requested an interview, but he refused to be seen. I returned to
- the Exchange before my mother came back, but found that Harry
- had been removed. I little expected that any efforts to save him
- would be successful; but I felt I had a duty to perform—to
- prevent misrepresentation, and to put it out of the power of his
- enemies to injure his character while living, or his memory when
- dead. I followed him to the artillery barracks, where I saw
- Major Fox just going in, and asked his permission to see my
- brother; he desired me to wait a little, but I followed him, and
- when he came to the door of my brother’s cell, I remained behind
- him at a few paces distance; the door of the cell was opened,
- and I heard him say, ‘You are ordered for immediate execution.’
- My poor brother seemed to be astonished at this announcement;
- indeed he well might be, at the shortness of time allotted to
- him; but seeing me falling to the ground, he sprang forward and
- caught me. I did not, however, lose consciousness for a
- single instant, but felt a strange sort of composure and
- self-possession; and in this frame of mind I continued during
- the whole day. I knew it was incumbent on me to avoid disturbing
- the last moments of my brother’s life, and I endeavoured to
- contribute to render them worthy of his whole career. We
- conversed as calmly as we had ever done. I asked him if there
- was anything in particular he desired to have done. He said, ‘I
- wish you to write to Russell, inform him of my death, and tell
- him that I have done my duty....’ He said he would like to see
- Mr. Kelburne, who was our clergyman. I told him I feared that
- Mr. Kelburne would be unable to come, but that if he wished to
- see a clergyman, Dr. Dickson was then under the same roof, and
- would come to him. He replied he would rather have Mr. Kelburne,
- as it would gratify his father and mother. He, of course, was
- sent for, but being confined to his bed by illness, it was a
- considerable time before he made his appearance. In the meantime
- Dr. Dickson was brought to him; they retired to the far end of
- the room, when I observed Dr. Dickson take out his pocket book
- and write something in it; he afterwards said that he never met
- with any person whose mind was better prepared to meet death.
- Mr. Kelburne soon after arrived, and when he did, he burst out
- crying, and said, ‘Oh! Harry, you did not know how much I loved
- you.’ Mr. Kelburne, after some time, endeavoured to assume
- composure.... Harry, perceiving the effort at appearing more
- concerned than he really was, looked at Dr. Dickson and smiled.
- Mr. Kelburne knelt down, as I believe did all present, and
- joined in prayer; he soon after retired, and wished me to
- accompany him, which I refused.
-
- “During the early part of the day Harry and I had conversed with
- tranquillity on the subject of his death. We had been brought up
- in a firm conviction of an all-wise and overruling Providence,
- and of the duty of entire resignation to the Divine Will. I
- remarked that his death was as much a dispensation of Providence
- as if it had happened in the common course of nature, to which
- he assented. He told me there had been much perjury on his
- trial, but that the truth would have answered the same purpose.
- After the clergymen were gone, I asked for a pair of scissors,
- that I might take off some of his hair. A young officer who was
- on guard went out of the room and brought a pair of scissors but
- hesitated to trust them into my hand, when I asked him
- indignantly if he thought I meant to hurt my brother. He then
- gave them to me, and I cut off some of Harry’s hair which curled
- round his neck, and folded it up in paper, and put it into my
- bosom. Fox at that moment entered the room, and desired me to
- give it to him, ‘as too much use had already been made of such
- things.’ I refused, saying I would only part with it in death;
- when my dear brother said, ‘Oh! Mary, give it to him; of what
- value is it?’ I felt that its possession would be a mere
- gratification to me, and not wishing to discompose him by the
- contest, I gave it up.
-
- “The time allowed him was now expired: he had hoped for a few
- days, that he might give his friends an account of all the later
- events in which he had taken a part. About five _p.m._ he was
- ordered to the place of execution, the old market-house, the
- ground of which had been given to the town by his great great
- grandfather. I took his arm, and we walked together to the place
- of execution, where I was told it was the general’s orders that
- I should leave him, which I peremptorily refused. Harry begged I
- would go. Clasping my hands around him (I did not weep till
- then) I said I could bear anything but leaving him. Three times
- he kissed me, and entreated I would go; and looking round to
- recognise some friend to put me in charge of, he beckoned to a
- Mr. Boyd, and said, ‘He will take charge of you.’ Mr. Boyd
- stepped forward; and fearing any further refusal would disturb
- the last moments of my dearest brother, I suffered myself to be
- led away.... A Mr. Armstrong, a friend of our family, came
- forward and took me from Mr. Boyd, and conducted me home. I
- immediately sent a message to Dr. McDonnell and Mr. McCluney,
- our apothecary, to come directly to our house. The latter came,
- and Dr. McDonnell sent his brother, Alexander, a skilful
- surgeon. The body was given up to his family unmutilated; so far
- our entreaties and those of our friends prevailed.
-
- “From the moment I parted with Harry, the idea which occurred to
- me in the morning that it might be possible to restore
- animation, took full possession of my mind, and that hope buoyed
- up my strength, and supported me at the moment of parting with
- him. Every effort that art could devise was made, and at one
- time hopes of success were entertained, but the favourable
- symptoms disappeared, and the attempt was at length given up. I
- was present when the medical men entered the room where the body
- was laid, and then retired and joined the rest of the family,
- awaiting the result with indescribable anxiety. My heart sank
- within me when we were told all hope was over, and that a
- message had been brought from the General that the funeral must
- take place immediately, or that the body would be taken from us.
- Preparations were made for immediate burial. I learned that no
- relative of his was likely to attend his funeral. I could not
- bear to think that no member of his family should accompany his
- remains, so I set out to follow them to the grave.
-
- “A kind-hearted man, an enthusiast in the cause for which poor
- Harry died, drew my arm within his, but my brother John soon
- followed, and took his place. I heard the sound of the first
- shovelful of earth that was thrown on the coffin, and I remember
- little else of what passed on that sad occasion. I was told
- afterwards that poor Harry stood when I left him at the place of
- execution, and watched me until I was out of sight; that he then
- attempted to speak to the people, but that the noise of the
- trampling of the horses was so great that it was impossible he
- should be heard; that he then resigned himself to his fate, and
- the multitude who were present at that moment uttered cries
- which seemed more like one loud and long-continued shriek than
- the expression of grief or terror on similar occasions. He was
- buried in the old churchyard where St. George’s church now
- stands, and close to the corner of the school-house, where the
- door is.”
-
- * * * * *
-
-A weaker nature than Mary McCracken’s would have surely broken down
-after the strain of those tragic hours. But she came forth from them,
-only with fresh ardour to serve God, and country and friends.
-
-Early in the new century she received a pitiable account of the state of
-destitution to which poor Russell’s sister, Margaret, had been reduced.
-He himself after his arrest in September, 1796, had been kept until
-March, 1799, in Kilmainham, whence he was conveyed with the other State
-prisoners to Fort George. More than three years’ internment in Fort
-George was followed by deportation to the Continent in 1802. During
-these years Miss Russell had been deprived of his support, and she was
-in a pitiable condition. Mary Anne McCracken got up a subscription for
-her among Russell’s friends in Belfast, but there were a great many
-claims on their resources just at that time and the response to her
-appeal was not very gratifying. Her charity nearly cost her dear; for a
-person who saw the list of subscribers reported to Government that she
-was raising money for arms.
-
-The autumn of 1803 marked the close of Mary McCracken’s pathetic
-romance. In October of that year Russell, who had come over from France,
-in the early summer to assist Robert Emmet, and who had undertaken, with
-the faithful Jamie Hope, to rouse the North to a new stand for freedom,
-was taken prisoner in Dublin, and carried back in chains to Downpatrick
-to be tried for his life. Once more Mary McCracken, stifling the pain of
-her wounded heart, made superhuman efforts to save her doomed friend.
-During the weeks when he was in hiding she and her sister had already
-visited him, and provided him with funds for his journey to Dublin. When
-he was taken, the two sisters pledged their credit to the last penny, to
-raise the necessary money for his defence. It was Mary’s earnest desire
-to go to Downpatrick to be present at the trial, and only the
-representations of her family prevented her. On the eve of the trial she
-received a letter from Russell. It was all the reward her faithful heart
-obtained for the years of silent love it had lavished on the writer—but
-perhaps those words of farewell from the condemned cell in Downpatrick
-seemed to her better worth treasuring than the love letters of happier
-women.
-
-It is to Mary McCracken that we owe the record of Russell’s most noble
-and touching “Speech from the Dock.” For she and her sister sent Hughes,
-a clerk of their brother John’s, to take notes in court of his address.
-And when the scaffold had done its work, and the gallant form lay
-mangled in its shadow, it was she who gave it, in the sacred soil of
-Downpatrick, the tomb, where with the “Three Wonder Working Saints of
-Erin,” Patrick, Brigid and Columcille, it awaits the Resurrection:
-
- “The grave of Russell.”
-
- * * * * *
-
-Among the witnesses at the Russell trial there figured prominently a
-certain Patrick Lynch, and the mention of his name will serve as an
-introduction to our account of some of the various interests with which
-Mary McCracken filled her life. There still remained the long span of
-sixty-three years, before she was summoned to join the dear ones, to
-whose love the years of her youth had been dedicated. These sixty-three
-years were full of service to the country for which _they_ had given
-their lives.
-
-We have already mentioned that Edward Bunting was, for some forty years,
-an inmate of the McCracken household. It was under their roof that his
-celebrated collections of “Ancient Irish Music” were made, and all the
-McCrackens, but especially Mary, took the very keenest interest in the
-work. In 1802, Patrick Lynch, a native Irish speaker (who had given
-lessons in the language to Russell during the latter’s sojourn in
-Belfast in the early ’Nineties), was sent by Bunting on a tour to
-Connacht to collect airs. Of his progress he writes (during Bunting’s
-absence in London) detailed reports to John McCracken and “Miss
-Mary”—and it is clear from these letters that they were as much
-interested in the mission as Bunting himself.[88]
-
-Footnote 88:
-
- See “Annals of the Irish Harpers,” _passim_.
-
-In 1803, John McCracken, Senior, died, and in 1814 Mrs. McCracken and
-her son, William, were both called to their reward. Shortly after their
-mother’s death the McCracken sisters gave up business and went to live
-with their brother Frank (who had remained a bachelor) in Donegal
-Street. The talent of Miss Margaret McCracken for housekeeping left Mary
-with a great many free hours on her hands—and these she devoted to
-active works of charity. The picture her grandniece has left us of her
-avocations is a true one for many years of her life. Her mornings were
-spent in out-of-door occupations—collecting for some charity, attending
-meetings, or visiting the poor in their homes, or the poor children in
-the Lancastrian School. Of the charitable institutions in which she took
-an active interest her grandniece mentions an industrial school for
-girls, established in the Famine year; the Belfast Ladies’ Clothing
-Society; the Destitute Sick Society; an anti-slavery society, and an
-association to prevent the employment of climbing-boys in chimney
-sweeping. In the afternoon she rested, and her evenings were largely
-devoted to letter-writing (for she had a large correspondence) or to
-that social intercourse in which, even to extreme old age, her genial
-spirit delighted.
-
-Of her personality her grandniece gives some very attractive glimpses:
-
-“In personal habits she was scrupulously clean, but indifferent about
-her dress, unwilling to spend money on it, and giving it little thought.
-
-“She liked to read the newspapers, and always spent some time in doing
-so, but for other reading she had little leisure. When she did read a
-novel or hear one read, it was to others as great a treat as the book to
-hear her comments, how she entered into the story, and discussed the
-characters with such thorough enjoyment, such child-like feeling of
-reality. In her later years she used to relate anecdotes of family and
-local incidents, and reminiscences of her youthful days; these told in
-her lively and pleasant manner, were listened to with pleasure.
-Sometimes, but more rarely, and usually when she had only one hearer,
-she would speak of the graver and sadder events in which she had been
-concerned, but evidently with such sorrowful remembrance that a listener
-had not the heart to urge her to continue the theme, intensely
-interesting though it might be.
-
-“She was accustomed to say that people ought not to pride themselves on
-their ancestors, and should not be valued for what their forefathers had
-been or done, but only for what they themselves are, and would quote the
-lines on the moon—
-
- ‘I with borrowed lustre shine,
- What you see is none of mine.’
-
-Nevertheless, she took most unmistakable pride and pleasure in some of
-the doings of her ancestors. The way in which she used to relate
-anything which gave evidence of a generous and unselfish description was
-not to be forgotten by those who heard her.
-
-“She had naturally a quick and hasty temper, though evidence of this was
-rarely seen; but even when at an advanced age, if a helpless person were
-wronged, or an animal cruelly treated, it was startling to see how her
-eye would flash, and to hear her hot, indignant words.
-
-“Her decay was very gradual. She was compelled by degrees to give up her
-accustomed occupations, till at last she was confined to the house. Walk
-for walking’s sake she would not. As she became unable for other work
-she took up the occupation of knitting. Her sight was wonderfully good;
-her hearing was so much impaired as to prevent her taking part in
-ordinary conversation; but she was always able to converse with one
-person comfortably for both. She delighted in seeing a large party round
-the table, and when a laugh went round, she with beaming face and happy
-smile would join in the mirth, and sometimes say—‘Well, I don’t know
-what you are laughing at, but I like to see you enjoying yourselves.’
-
-“In the autumn of 1865 she had an attack of bronchitis from which she
-recovered, but mind and body had become weak. She faded peacefully and
-gently away, apparently contented and happy, without weariness or pain,
-until, after some hours of unconsciousness, she breathed her last on
-July the 26th (the feast of her own namesake, Saint Ann), 1866, having
-completed her ninety-sixth year on the 8th of the month.”
-
- * * * * *
-
-Within our own time pious and reverent hands have laid the remains of
-Henry Joy McCracken in the grave of his devoted sister. And what Mary
-McCracken did for Russell, has been done in turn for herself by a
-patriotic townsman.[89] Beneath the slab he has laid upon the grave in
-Old Clifton Cemetery brother and sister, once more re-united, await the
-Resurrection. “In death they are not divided.”
-
-Footnote 89:
-
- F. J. Bigger, Esq.
-
-
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
-
-
-
-
- SOME OTHER SISTERS OF ’NINETY-EIGHT
-
-
-
-
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
-
-
-
-
- Some Other Sisters of ’Ninety-Eight
-
- “O fair-haired Donough, dear little brother,
- Well do I know what has taken you from me.”
- —_Lament for Fair-Haired Donough._
-
-
-MARY MCCRACKEN is not the only sister whose name is coupled with her
-brother’s in “the glorious pride and sorrow” of ’Ninety-Eight. We have
-already, in the preceding memoirs, met other heroic sisters and we shall
-now give a somewhat further account of some of these.
-
-
- MARY ANNE EMMET
-
-Mary Anne Emmet, sister of Thomas Addis and Robert, was worthy, both in
-character and brains, of her family. Born in 1773 she showed herself
-from her earliest years dowered with her full share of the remarkable
-Emmet intellect. She was carefully educated, mostly by her father, and
-acquired a knowledge of Classics of which many a University Don might
-well be vain. She was a vigorous writer; and her grand-nephew, Dr.
-Thomas Addis Emmet, tells us that he has in his possession several
-political pamphlets from her pen. “These clearly show that she must have
-possessed a profound knowledge of political economy, a familiarity with
-history and the body politic, gained only after careful reading and to
-an extent few public men of her day possessed.” Her most celebrated
-pamphlet was “An Address to the People of Ireland, showing them why they
-ought to submit to an Union.” Its method of _advocating_ an Union is, as
-Dr. Madden points out, sufficiently indicated by its title:
-
- “Of comfort no man speak;
- Let’s talk of graves, of worms, and epitaphs.”
- —_Shakespeare._
-
-Such scorn as is poured from it in the new-born “patriotism” of the
-Beresfords, the Fosters, the Whaleys, the Saurins, the Verekers, who had
-already alienated every right through which an Irishman could call
-himself a free man! “You are called on to oppose this Union, to preserve
-your rights. Now I ask the men who call on you what rights you have to
-support? I ask parliament what right _they_ have not wrested from you?
-They adjure you to support the constitution. Alas! for that
-constitution, originally a shadow, now embodied a substance of
-corruption. You are called on to resist—_what_? Not _oppression_, it has
-been _protected_. Not _injustice_, it has been _legalised_. Not
-_cruelty_, it has been _indemnified_.... Is it for the _Convention_, the
-_Insurrection_, the _Indemnity Acts_, that you are to resist the
-annihilation of the parliament that passed them? While these Bills stand
-recorded on their Journals parliament ought to know that the country
-cannot dread their extinction. And if the minister of England wishes to
-use any argument but military force for the accomplishment of this
-measure, let him present that statute-book to the people, and ask
-them—‘Why should you wish the duration of this parliament? do you not
-feel that I am omnipotent in it? are not my mandates written here in
-blood?...’
-
-“I shall not dwell more on the advantages than I have done on the
-justice of this measure. I do not believe that one advantage will result
-from it, or from any other convention between Ireland and Great Britain
-which the English minister proposes, and which the English mercantile
-interest approves of: no convention or community of interests ever will
-be equitably conducted where both parties are not equally able to assert
-their own rights, and to resist the innovations or injustice of the
-other.... _I know that our part of the treaty will be signed and most
-strictly performed, and that the English part of it will be filled up
-how and when it suits the interests of the minister._”
-
-When the order came from the Castle to the State prisoners in Kilmainham
-on March 18th, 1799, instructing them to be ready for embarkation the
-following morning, Mary Anne Emmet, “at a late hour the same evening, on
-hearing of the order, proceeded immediately to the Castle, and demanded
-an interview with the viceroy for the purpose of ascertaining the fate
-that was destined for her brother. She presented herself to the viceroy
-with the spirit that seemed to be characteristic of her race. Lord
-Cornwallis was moved even to tears at the earnestness of her
-supplication, the anxiety exhibited in her looks, the strength of
-feeling, the energy of character displayed in the effort she had made.
-He treated her with kindness, and assured her that ‘no harm should occur
-to her brother.’... Miss Emmet returned to her family, and the
-intelligence she brought, little as it was, relieved the minds of her
-parents of much of their alarm.”[90]
-
-Footnote 90:
-
- Madden’s “United Irishmen,” Third Series (Second Edition). p. 91.
-
-Sometime in 1799 she married Robert Holmes, a rising barrister. The
-young couple took up their residence with old Dr. and Mrs. Emmet, first
-in Stephen’s Green, and later in Casino; and the correspondence of her
-mother with Thomas Addis in Fort George, makes frequent mention of Mary
-Anne. In a letter dated April 10th, Elizabeth Emmet informs her son of
-the comfort she and her husband found in “Mary Anne’s happiness in
-consequence of having married a very worthy man, of whom she is very
-fond, and he equally so of her. She has grown so stout that scarcely a
-day passes without her walking to town, about town, and out again. The
-pleasure of her husband’s company has, I believe, wrought this change,
-and her health is greatly benefitted by the exertion.” In July, 1800,
-her first baby, a little boy, was born, but the many and great anxieties
-its mother had undergone before its birth told on it, and it only lived
-one week. Poor Mary Anne was long in recovering, and perhaps her mother
-did not make sufficient allowance for the drain made on her delicate
-constitution by the intensity of her feelings. The indolence, the
-disinclination to make any exertion except on a great occasion of which
-her mother frequently complained, were due to physical weakness, and of
-this her mother did not seem to take account. “Mary Anne is very much
-better, but you know of old that she has one complaint of which I have
-no hope she will be cured: indolence has still, and always will have,
-domination over her, except when exertion becomes necessary; then,
-indeed, no person can exceed her in efforts. I wish, however, for her
-own sake that her exertions were brought more into the practice of every
-day, and not reserved for great occasions. She has a very strong mind,
-and I think it would operate more upon the body if more frequently
-called forth.”
-
- * * * * *
-
-Six days after the outbreak of Robert Emmet’s Insurrection, Robert
-Holmes, who had been in England on business, and knew nothing of his
-brother-in-law’s plans, was arrested in the streets of Dublin, on his
-way home. About the same time John Patten, Jane Emmet’s brother, was
-arrested, and the wildest rumours of Robert’s fate were brought to the
-ladies of the Emmet family, who were now in residence at Donnybrook. The
-anxiety proved too much for Elizabeth Emmet, and while her youngest son
-lay in prison awaiting his tragic destiny, she died in her daughter’s
-arms.
-
-Think of what Mary Anne Holmes had to endure during those terrible
-weeks. One brother was in exile, another in the prison from which the
-only egress was up the steps to the scaffold; her husband a prisoner
-with an uncertain fate. Truly “the strong mind” had heavy drains on it
-when she followed her mother’s coffin to the churchyard of St. Peter’s
-in Aungier Street, whither Dr. Emmet’s had only a little time preceded
-it. Small wonder that the end of her sad story came with tragic
-swiftness, and in tragic circumstances.
-
-Mr. Holmes was kept for a whole year a prisoner in Dublin Castle, and
-then suddenly released. He walked directly home. “In response to his
-ring his wife unfortunately opened the door, only to drop dead into his
-arms from the suddenness of the shock and the excess of her joy at
-seeing him. It is said that Mr. Holmes never recovered from the shock he
-thus received, and to the day of his death he was seldom seen to
-smile.”[91] He lived to be a very old man—to see the men of ’48 stand in
-the same dock as the men of ’98 and ’03—and for the same crime. In his
-eightieth year he acted as counsel for Duffy in the _Nation_ prosecution
-of 1846; in his eighty-second year he defended John Mitchel. “We thought
-we heard the blood of Emmet crying aloud from the ground,” said Mitchel,
-of the great speech made by Holmes on the former occasion. But in the
-ears of the old man, himself, as he made his immortal indictment of
-England, there was ringing the voice of his dead love—the woman whom
-England’s cruelty had murdered in his very arms two-and-forty years
-before!
-
-Footnote 91:
-
- “The Emmet Family,” p. 54. The circumstances of Mary Anne Holmes’s
- death were communicated to Dr. T. A. Emmet by Sir Bernard Burke.
-
-
- MARY TONE
-
-Of Mary Tone, the sister of Theobald Wolfe Tone, we have already spoken
-at some length in the Memoir of her sister-in-law. Her brother has
-described her for us in his _Autobiography_: “My sister, whose name is
-Mary, is a fine young woman; she has all the peculiarity of our
-disposition with all the delicacy of her own sex. If she were a man, she
-would be exactly like one of us [_i.e._ her brothers, whose ‘portraits’
-he has just sketched], and, as it is, being brought up amongst boys, for
-we never had but one more sister, who died a child, she has contracted a
-masculine habit of thinking, without, however, in any degree, derogating
-from that feminine softness of manner which is suited to her sex and
-age.”
-
-When Tone and his wife and family were obliged to leave Ireland for
-America, Mary Tone accompanied them, sharing the dangers and hardships
-of the journey, and the anxieties and deprivations of life in an unknown
-land. When the summons came for Theobald to leave them, and start off on
-his hazardous mission to France, Mary Tone joined her sister-in-law in
-urging him to answer the call. When the moment of parting came her
-firmness and courage were as great as Matilda’s: “We had neither tears
-nor lamentations, but on the contrary, the most ardent hope and the most
-steady resolution.”
-
-On the voyage across the Atlantic which she made with Matilda Tone and
-her children towards the end of 1796, in order to rejoin Theobald, Mary
-Tone made the acquaintance of a young Swiss merchant named Giacque, who,
-though “just beginning the world with little or no property, thought
-proper to fall in love with her.” The first letter Tone received from
-his wife after their arrival in Hamburg, was accompanied, we learn from
-the _Autobiography_, by one from Giacque “informing me of his situation
-and circumstances, of his love for my sister, and hers for him, and
-praying my consent. There was an air of candour and honesty in his
-letter which gave me a good opinion of him, nor did I consider myself at
-liberty to stand in the way of her happiness, which my wife mentioned to
-me was deeply interested. I wrote therefore, giving my full consent to
-the marriage, and trust in God they may be as happy as I wish them. It
-is certainly a hazardous step in favour of a man whom I do not know;
-but, as she is passionately fond of him, and he of her, as he perfectly
-knows her situation, and has by no means endeavoured to disguise or
-exaggerate his own, I am in hopes they may do well.”
-
-After their marriage, the Giacques appear to have continued to live with
-Mrs. Tone and her children, first at Hamburg, and afterwards at Paris.
-After the death of Theobald, Mary and her husband went to St. Domingo;
-and, according to her nephew, she met her death there, of yellow fever,
-contracted through nursing a sick friend, who had been abandoned by her
-family and servants. Another account, quoted by Madden, states that she
-and her husband were killed by the negroes in the insurrection of that
-island, about the year 1799. At all events she shared the tragic fate of
-her immediate family—Theobald, William, Matthew, and Arthur—none of whom
-reached thirty-six years of age.
-
-
- LADY LUCY FITZGERALD
-
-One of Lord Edward’s sisters, Lady Lucy Fitzgerald, was deep in the
-plans of the United Irishmen. Mr. Gerald Campbell describes her as “just
-Lord Edward dressed in woman’s clothes. She was to the full as patriotic
-as her brother, perhaps even more so—for she loved the cause because he
-loved it, whom she loved above all things: she was possessed like him of
-a strong sense of humour, so that she shared with him the family epithet
-‘comical,’ she had a warm, loving susceptible Irish heart, and, in
-short, both in character and aims, was as like him as possible.”
-
-She spent much time with Lord Edward and Pamela at Kildare Lodge, and
-her Journal, from which Mr. Campbell has published some extracts, gives
-us vivid glimpses of the habitués of that hospitable home. Among these,
-Arthur O’Connor figures prominently, and one cannot help feeling that
-Lady Lucy had a romantic interest in that most aristocratic of all
-“democrats.” The winter days were devoted to long walks on the Curragh,
-or if the weather prevented out-door excursions, to sticking
-pocket-books with emblems, or hearing Arthur O’Connor read “Julius
-Cæsar,” or Volney’s “Ruins”; the winter evenings were delightfully
-divided between dancing and singing patriotic songs. Once she records “a
-large patriotic dinner,” at which were present, “Dr. MacNevin, Connolly,
-Mr. Hughes (a Northern, and Edward says a very sensible man), a Mr.
-Jackson, an iron manufacturer, a Mr. Bond, a great merchant, one of the
-handsomest and most delightful men to all appearance that ever was, and
-a Presbyterian clergyman, called Barber, a venerable old man who had
-been forced by persecution to fly his Diocese where he had lived 30
-years.”
-
-Lady Lucy little suspected that the Northern Mr. Hughes, whom Edward
-considered so “sensible,” was a Government spy—any more than she
-suspected that all her own correspondence after her return to London was
-carefully watched by Government. The mysterious “friend” of her cousin,
-Lord Downshire (whom Fitzpatrick finally succeeded in identifying with
-Samuel Turner, of Lurgan), told his patron that the communications of
-the Irish in Hamburg (who were negotiating there for French aid), with
-their friends at home were established through the medium of Mme.
-Matthiesen (Pamela’s cousin, Henriette de Sercey), Lady Sarah and
-Pamela. The letters were sent by Madame Matthiesen from Hamburg, to Lady
-Lucy in London—and by Lady Lucy conveyed to Pamela. “All letters to or
-from Lady Lucy Fitzgerald,” wrote the spy to Lord Downshire, “ought to
-be inspected.” No doubt this advice was acted upon, and poor
-unsuspecting Lady Lucy’s correspondence received due attention.
-
-One of the items of “Lucia’s” diary, quoted by Mr. Campbell, makes brief
-reference to “Two Northern gentlemen who dined with us.” One wonders if
-one of these could be Bartle Teeling. We know from his nephew’s memoir
-that in Lady Lucy that gallant and knightly heart had found its ideal.
-Once she gave him a ring with the words, “_Erin go Bragh_” inscribed on
-it, and this ring is still treasured in the Teeling family.
-
-Some letters of Lady Lucy published by Mr. Campbell will give a more
-vivid idea of her ardent and impulsive nature than any elaborate
-description of her. The first is addressed to “The Irish Nation,” and
-the occasion seems to have been the threatening advent of the Union:
-
- “Irishmen, Countrymen, it is Edward Fitzgerald’s sister who
- addresses you: it is a woman, but that woman is his sister: she
- would therefore die for you as he did. I don’t mean to remind
- you of what he did for you. ’Twas no more than his duty. Without
- ambition he resigned every blessing this world could afford, to
- be of use to you, his countrymen whom he loved better than
- himself, but in this he did no more than his _duty_; he was _a
- Paddy and no more_; he desired no other title than this. He
- never deserted you—will you desert yourselves? This was his only
- ambition, and will you ever forget yourselves? Will _you_ forget
- this title, which it is still in your power to ennoble? Will you
- disgrace it? Will you make it the scoff of your triumphant
- Enemies, while ’tis in your power to raise it beyond all other
- glory to immortality? Yes, this is the moment, the precious
- moment which must either stamp with Infamy the name of Irishmen
- and denote you for ever wretched, enslaved to the power of
- England, or raise the Paddies to the consequence which they
- deserve and which England shall no longer withhold, to
- _happiness_, _freedom_, _glory_. These are but names as yet to
- you, my Countrymen. As yet you are strangers to the _reality_
- with the power in your hands to realise them. One noble
- struggle, and you will gain, you will enjoy them for ever.—Your
- devoted Country-woman—L. F.”
-
-A second to Lady Bute, deals largely with Moore’s “Life of Lord Edward”:
-
- “Did you read Mr. Moore’s Memoir of my loved Edward? If you did,
- you will have thought it strange perhaps to see it dedicated to
- Mrs. Beauclerck.[92] It was all _her_ plan, arranged with Mr.
- Moore. They let me know of it when partly completed in case I
- had anything to communicate. Dear Lady Bute, _you_ who know the
- depth of affection with which his memory is engraven on my
- heart! you can best judge how such a message must have struck
- me. I returned for answer I had nothing to say. A thousand
- motives made this intended publication by Mr. Moore appear to me
- utterly improper. I will own to you that the one which
- displeased me was the trifling ... with his memory, which so
- long has lain enshrined and sacred in the grateful breasts of
- the Irish people! to have it brought out from thence and his
- glorious name made the subject of English investigation—to serve
- Party purposes—for when were Englishmen ever just judges of
- Irish character?... Mr. Moore was in complete ignorance of my
- Brother’s views, and of his opinions, plans, and actions
- _beyond_ what the newspapers of the day could furnish him with;
- and thus the delineation of his character as enlightened
- Statesman and Heroic Patriot is entirely _missing_ in the
- publication....
-
-Footnote 92:
-
- Mrs. Beauclerck was Lord Edward’s half-sister, “Mimi” (Emily
- Charlotte) Ogilvie, daughter of the Duchess of Leinster and
- Mr. Ogilvie.
-
- “There _are_ men in Ireland, men only Irish, to whom it belonged
- to tell his story if ever Ireland should be what my Brother
- meant it to be.... At the time when he was self-elected to free
- his country or die for Her, he met a soul, ‘twin to his own,’
- because each breathed and loved alike and their object Ireland!
- Ireland, where each had first drawn breath—Ireland more great in
- her misfortunes, in her wrongs than the most favoured Country of
- the Earth,—Ireland, so true to God, to the early unchanged faith
- of the Gospel,—Ireland whom neither falsehood could entice nor
- interest bribe to apostacy, suffering through successive ages
- from the oppression of a Nation inferior to Herself in all but
- in one of the adventitious circumstances of fortune. It was the
- heart that felt all this as he himself did, and would have
- preferred death with the chance of redeeming these wrongs to a
- life of ease and security without that hope—it was that person
- who could have told how Edward once loved.”
-
-
- JULIA SHEARES
-
-Julia Sheares was another devoted “Sister of ’Ninety-Eight.” All that
-she was to her brothers is best told by the letter which John addressed
-to her from his prison cell on the eve of his trial:
-
- “The troublesome scene of life, my ever dear Julia, is nearly
- closed, and the hand that now traces these lines will, in a day
- or two, be no longer capable of communicating, to a beloved and
- affectionate family, the sentiments of his heart. A painful task
- yet awaits me—I do not allude to my trial, nor to my execution.
- These, were it not for the consciousness I feel of the misery
- you will all suffer on my account, would be trivial in
- comparison with the pain I endure at addressing you for the last
- time. You have been kind to me, Julia, beyond example. Your
- solicitude for my welfare has been unremitting; nor did it leave
- you a moment’s happiness, as a wayward fate seems from the
- earliest moment of my life to have presided over my days. I will
- not now recapitulate the instances of a perverse destiny that
- seems to have marked me out as the instrument of destruction to
- all I loved.
-
- “Robert and Christopher! I shall shortly join you, and learn for
- what wise purpose heaven thought fit to select me as your
- destroyer.[93] My mother, too! O God! my tender, my revered
- mother! I see her torn locks—her broken heart—her corpse!
- Heavenly Author of the universe, what have I done to deserve
- this misery?
-
-Footnote 93:
-
- Mrs. Smith (Miss Maria Steele) told Dr. Madden that she had
- often heard John Sheares say with great emotion “that he had
- caused the death of two of his brothers—Robert, who was
- drowned in saving him when a boy, and Christopher, who, being
- reluctant to go to the West Indies, he persuaded to go there,
- “only to perish of yellow fever.”
-
- “I must forbear these thoughts as much as possible or I must
- forbear to write. My time comes on the day after to-morrow, and
- the event is unequivocal. You must summon up all the resolution
- of your soul, my dear, dear Julia. If there be a chance of
- snatching my afflicted mother from the grave, that chance must
- arise from your exertions. My darling Sally,[94] too will aid
- you; she will for a while suspend her joy at the restoration of
- her husband to her arms—for of his escape I have no more doubt
- than I have of my own conviction and its consequences. All, all
- of you forget your individual griefs and joys, and unite to save
- that best of parents from the grave. Stand between her and
- despair. If she will speak of me, soothe her with every
- assurance calculated to carry conviction to her heart. Tell her
- that my death, though nominally ignominious, should not light up
- a blush in her face; that she knew me incapable of a
- dishonourable action or thought; that I died in full possession
- of the esteem of all those who knew me intimately; that justice
- will yet be done to my memory, and my fate be mentioned rather
- with pride than shame by my friends and relations. Yes, my dear
- sister, if I did not expect the arrival of this justice to my
- memory, I should be indeed afflicted at the nominal ignominy of
- my death, lest it may injure your welfare and wound the feelings
- of my family. But, above all things, tell her that at my own
- request I was attended in my latest moments by that excellent
- and pious man, Dr. Dobbin, and that my last prayer was offered
- up for her. While I feared for Harry’s life, hell itself could
- have no tortures for the guilty beyond what I endured.
-
-Footnote 94:
-
- Sarah, the wife of Henry Sheares. When John wrote he had no
- suspicion that his brother’s fate was sealed as well as his
- own.
-
- “I picture you all, a helpless, unprotected group of females,
- left to the miseries of your own feelings and to the insults of
- a callous, insensible world. Sally, too, stripped of a husband
- on whom she so tenderly doats, and his children of their father,
- and all by my cursed intervention, by my residence with them.
- Yet, he even is my witness how assiduously I sought to keep
- aloof in any of my political concerns from him, and would have
- entirely succeeded in doing so if it had not been for the art of
- that villain, Armstrong, and Harry’s own incaution. My efforts,
- however, have kept him clear of any of those matters that have
- involved me in destruction. When Sally has got him back in her
- arms, and that I, who caused his danger and her unhappiness,
- shall be no more, she will cease to think of me with reproach.
- This I trust she will do; she ought—for she herself could never
- have done more for his salvation than I endeavoured to do. But
- the scene is changed—I am no longer that frantic thing I was
- while his danger appeared imminent. A calm sorrow for the
- sufferings that await you on my account, and a heartfelt regret
- at being obliged to quit your loved society for ever, has
- succeeded. Yet, all this will soon have an end; and with comfort
- I already anticipate the moment when your subsiding grief gives
- you back to the enjoyment of each other. Still, my dearest
- Julia, even when I shall be no more, your plagues on my account
- are not likely to cease. You remember—I am sure you do—your kind
- promise of protection to my poor, unfortunate little Louisa?[95]
- I make no doubt but her mother will give her up to your care
- without reluctance; yet, how to impose this new anxiety on you I
- know not. But of this I will say nothing; I know your heart, and
- never could resist the goodness with which it insisted on easing
- mine by burdening itself. What to recommend relative to her I
- cannot resolve. Harry did once desire me to take her into his
- house, but I had a thousand objections to that plan then, some
- of which still remain; one material one is, that she would soon
- learn from servants and others how different her situation there
- was from that of the other children, and her young mind would
- very early feel that chilling inferiority and degradation, that
- lead to a debasement of principle, and ultimately to mean and
- unworthy actions. No; a great many reasons concur to decide me
- against that measure. She should be put to some school where
- more care is taken of her health than education, and where the
- attention to morals consists in good, honest example. Apropos,
- she was at a Mrs. Duggan’s, at Bray, to whom I yet owe ten
- guineas for her, and which I request of my dear mother to pay
- for me, when convenient; I likewise owe a note of hand for about
- thirteen pounds or guineas to a man in Capel Street whom the
- Flemings know. I cannot mention the name of these friends
- without emotions of gratitude and tenderness not to be
- expressed. Never cease to assure them that I preserve the
- recollection of their goodness, though the instances of it are
- so many, and I shall feel it to the last moment. This debt they
- will be obliged to pay if not discharged by my mother, as they
- passed their word for it—you will therefore mention it to my
- poor afflicted mother. Great God! how have I stripped her and
- you; but I have stripped you of happiness, and should not talk
- of money....
-
-Footnote 95:
-
- His daughter.
-
- “Good night, Julia; I am going to rest with a heart, thank God,
- free from the consciousness of intentional offence, and from any
- wish tainted with personal resentment. I seek my bed with
- pleasure, because in it I often fancy myself in the full
- possession of that domestic happiness which I always regarded as
- the first of human enjoyments. Pray heaven I dream of you all
- night....
-
- “Adieu, Julia, my light is just out; the approach of darkness is
- like that of death, since both alike require I should say
- farewell for ever. Oh, my dear family, farewell for ever!”
-
-
- MISS BYRNE
-
-Miles Byrne in his _Memoirs_ makes frequent mention of a brave sister of
-his, and incidentally throws much light on the way the women of Wexford
-helped their men during these soul-testing times. When the atrocities of
-the Orange magistrates and the Ancient Britons had forced the men to the
-hills, the women undertook to act as intelligence officers and keep them
-informed of the progress of the preparations for the Rising. Miss Byrne
-was one of the most active of these fearless girls. On one occasion
-Miles returned to his mother’s house and found his sister alone in it,
-for their mother had gone to Gorey to try and get their step-brother
-Hugh, out of prison. “We arrived a little before daybreak. I approached
-the house with great precaution (lest there should be soldiers placed
-there), and I must add overwhelmed with anxiety, fearing to learn
-everything for the worst. However, finding all silent, I went at once
-and knocked. My poor sister came to the window, trembling and alarmed,
-until she saw it was I.... Before I had time to answer any questions my
-sister told me she hoped to have good news to tell me in the morning;
-that it was certain the people were rising in every direction, and had
-already defeated the troops. She could not then give me the details, but
-in an hour or two she was sure to be able to satisfy me in every
-particular.”
-
-Miles and his companions concealed themselves in the fields until his
-sister could procure the tidings she expected. “When it was broad
-daylight we saw my sister running to look for us to give us the cheerful
-tidings with all the joyful enthusiasm so characteristic of a young
-Irish girl of eighteen. She told us that the troops had run away from
-Gorey, and that all the prisoners were at liberty to go where they
-pleased; but still the people, or the Insurgent army, as we must now
-call them, did not march that way, but were in great force in the
-neighbourhood of Camolin and Ferns. We instantly prepared to go and join
-them....
-
- “It was only now I heard for the first time of all the barbarous
- murders that had been committed whilst I was away; the massacre
- of Carnew, the murder of poor Garrett Fennell, Darcy, and a list
- of others who had shared the same fate. My dear sister thought
- she could never tell me enough about all that had happened
- during my absence; how our horses were taken, and that three men
- mounted my mare and sprained her back, etc. But if I had not
- remarked a long scar on her neck she would not have mentioned
- anything about herself. A yeoman of the name of Wheatley, on the
- day that poor Hugh was arrested, threatened to cut her throat
- with his sabre if she did not instantly tell the place where I
- was hiding; the cowardly villain no doubt would have put his
- threat into execution had not some of his comrades interfered to
- prevent him.
-
- “Being joined by a few of our former workmen and tenants’ sons,
- who heard I had returned, I prepared again to take leave of my
- sister, knowing that my dear mother would soon be home to keep
- her company. This time she saw me depart with joy and delight,
- for she had set her heart and soul on the success of our
- undertaking; her courage and spirit was surprising under such
- circumstances for a girl of her age, and she never despaired. I
- bid her farewell, and marched off with my faithful friends on
- the road to Camolin.”
-
-
- MISS TEELING
-
-Charles Teeling in his “Personal Narrative” pays tribute to “the heroic
-courage” of one of his own sisters. “She was my junior”—he was only in
-his eighteenth year himself—“and with the gentlest possessed the noblest
-soul; she has been the solace of her family in all subsequent
-afflictions, and seemed to have been given as a blessing by Heaven, to
-counterpoise the ills we were doomed to suffer.” When the first letters
-“from home” were delivered to the poor prisoners in Kilmainham he
-records the sensation he experienced on getting one from his father
-“which also bore the signature of the sister whom I loved.”
-
-
- MISS HAZLETT
-
-Another sister commemorated by Teeling is Miss Hazlett, the sister of
-Henry Hazlett, of Belfast. She had come to Dublin, with Henry’s little
-son, to comfort their brother by their visits to his prison. “It was
-impossible to exclude her visits from the prison, for, from the surly
-turnkey to the cold and impenetrable man of office, her voice acted as a
-talisman on the most obdurate heart. Her presence dispelled every gloom,
-as the cheering messenger of Heaven.” The little boy caught a contagious
-disease, and his beautiful young aunt, nursing him, contracted it also,
-and one day to the sorrowing prisoners in Kilmainham, who had all
-learned to love her, there came the news of her death. Her funeral from
-Dublin to the North was made a national demonstration. “The daughters of
-Erin strewed garlands in the way—thousands of youthful patriots
-surrounded the bier—and in the mournful procession of an hundred miles,
-every town and hamlet paid homage to the virtues of the dead.”
-
- * * * * *
-
-The tender and beautiful Irish usage extends the use of the words
-_dearbrathair_ (brother), and _deirbhshiur_ (sister) to other bonds than
-those of blood. And many of the gentle and pitying women who ministered
-to the sufferers of those times are truly deserving of the lovely title.
-The girls from the hotel in Newry who pressed forward under the very
-hoofs of the cavalry horses to bring refreshments to the carriages of
-the prisoners of ’96, Charles Teeling, Russell, Neilson, etc., were
-surely worthy of it. The women who forced their way into the prisons
-“with bread, and comfort, and grace” were worthy of it. The women whom
-Holt so frequently shows us at their works of mercy were worthy of it.
-On one occasion he came to a farmhouse whose only occupants were an old
-woman and her pretty daughter. “They brought me hot water to bathe my
-feet, and clean stockings and linen, and took my own and washed them.
-They then gave me oatcakes and butter-milk, which after I had eaten,
-they shewed me a comfortable bed, where I slept for several hours....”
-Finding that the news of his death had been reported to them, and caused
-them overwhelming sorrow, he informed them of his identity. Their joy at
-his safety, and their pride at having him for their guest was beyond all
-telling. Presently “twenty-four poor unfortunates came into the house,
-who were all desired to sit down, and oaten cakes were placed before
-them, and the young woman was busily employed in baking more cakes on
-the griddle; she afterwards told me they had been so employed for some
-days past.”
-
-And talking of “Sisters” reminds us of the striking fact that it was in
-the prisons of the United Irishmen, our Irish Sisters of Charity had, in
-a certain sense, their origin. In the letters of Mr. Luke Teeling to his
-wife, we find frequent mention of a Miss Alicia Walsh, who came with her
-aunt, Ally Lynch, of Drogheda (Mrs. Teeling’s sister) to visit him in
-his prison at Carrickfergus. “Ally Walsh is an uncommonly fine girl,” he
-notes of her approvingly. Many a tongue was to echo Mr. Teeling’s praise
-in the after-days when “Ally Walsh,” the first companion of Mary
-Aikenhead, had become the celebrated Mother Catherine of the Gardiner
-Street Convent. To learn more of her I must refer my readers to Mrs.
-Atkinson’s “Mary Aikenhead.” I shall content myself here with borrowing
-Mrs. Atkinson’s account of her experiences in ’Ninety-Eight.
-
- “During the rebellion of 1798, she went from prison to prison at
- much personal risk, to carry messages from friends, or to
- console the inmates who were the objects of her deepest
- sympathy. Some of her nearest and dearest relatives[96] suffered
- greatly, not only from the confiscation and unjust oppression,
- but also from barbarous bodily tortures which at that period
- were commonly inflicted at the will of a licentious soldiery.
- One of her friends, a young man of exemplary life, was stripped
- to the waist, tied to a cart, and dragged through the streets of
- Drogheda, his inhuman executioners flogging him all the way,
- until at last he fainted under their hands, and was consigned to
- a prison cell. The first intimation his mother received of the
- occurrence that had taken place was a demand for old linen to
- dress her son’s back which was one hideous wound.
-
-Footnote 96:
-
- The Teelings conspicuously. Her own father, Mr. Walsh, of the
- Naul, though like Mr. Teeling he had taken no part in the
- Rising, was ruined by the pillaging and burning tactics of the
- Orangemen and the Yeomanry.
-
- “In the family of a near neighbour at Naul, a circumstance
- occurred equally characteristic of the time. A young lady was
- engaged to be married to a gentleman, who having been connected
- with the insurgents in ’98, was obliged to fly from his home. He
- took refuge in the house of his intended brother-in-law, who had
- been forced to join a corps of yeomanry. The fugitive’s track
- was discovered, the yeomanry were called out, and he, having
- again taken to flight, was overtaken at a village near Dublin,
- and hanged from a post in the street by the young man from whose
- house he had just escaped and who dared not shirk the duty. The
- poor rebel’s mother never learned the fate that had befallen her
- son. She was persuaded that he had gone abroad; and up to her
- death she continued making shirts and knitting stockings, which
- were sent, as she supposed, in parcels to the refugee in a
- distant land.”
-
-Mary Aikenhead, herself, was, perhaps, too young—only eleven—to have any
-very active share in the charities the Cork ladies exercised towards the
-sufferers of ’98—but her father was an ardent sympathiser with “the
-Cause,” and Lord Edward Fitzgerald was concealed, on one occasion, at
-their house. Perhaps it was in memory of this—or perhaps it was because
-she felt what I have tried to express: that the Sisterhood Mary
-Aikenhead founded, proceeded so largely from ’Ninety-Eight and all it
-stood for—that Lady Lucy Fitzgerald (or as she then was, Lady Lucy
-Foley) left at her death, a generous legacy to the Sisters of Charity.
-One cannot help thinking that the list of the first companions of Mary
-Aikenhead must have sounded to Lady Lucy like a roll-call of names made
-immortal in the ranks of the United Irishmen. There were Teelings,
-Sweetmans, Clinches, O’Reillys, Bellews, and many others.
-
-Mrs. Coleman (Mother Mary de Chantal) was born amid the troubles that
-preceded ’98. “Her father, a gentleman farmer in Meath or Louth, ... was
-suspected of disaffection. On the very night his little daughter was to
-come into the world, the house was surrounded by a troop of armed men,
-whose heavy footsteps, presently heard on the stairs, gave the alarm to
-the inmates, who hurried away ‘the poor mistress’ under cover of the
-darkness to an uninhabited hut sometimes used by the herd. She gave up
-all for lost, and resigned herself to die, knowing well that no human
-assistance awaited her in the hour of her utmost need. Her piety was
-sincere, her faith was strong, and she had an ardent devotion to the
-Blessed Virgin. As her husband forced open the door and led her into the
-dark hut, she heard a voice distinctly say: ‘Do not fear, Mary, I will
-protect you and your child’; while at the same time a bright light
-filled the place. Then and there under its influence the child was
-born.”
-
-So, too, we may say, in the darkness of Ireland’s Agony in
-’Ninety-Eight, illumined miraculously by the Faith and Hope and Charity
-of Ireland’s womanhood, there was born the great Congregation to which
-that little child was destined to belong.
-
-
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-
-
-
-
- SARAH CURRAN AND ANNE DEVLIN
-
-
-
-
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-
-
-
-
- Sarah Curran and Anne Devlin
-
- “The rose left her cheek, the brave eyes grew dim,
- She drained the bitter cup of sorrow to the brim—
- When that sad September noon saw your young heart low,
- And the dawn of Ireland shrouded in a bleak cloud of woe.
-
- “I had died for you gladly, my courage never quailed,
- When their swords pierced my bosom, their wild threats assailed;
- Nor did their prison torture win from me a single tear—
- _That_ memory of grief and pain would die if you were here.”
- —Ethna Carbery: _Anne Devlin’s Lament for Emmet_.
-
-
-SHALL we not join together the two women, whom love for Robert Emmet has
-dowered with a common immortality, and whom a common agony of loss has
-bound, one to the other, in the eternal sisterhood of sorrow? So best
-shall our love and pity reach them both—the fragile girl who died of a
-broken heart for _his_ sake, and the strong girl whose brave heart
-faced—for _his_ sake likewise—tortures that were worse than death. And
-let it not weaken our sympathy with Sarah Curran to remember that the
-sentimental generation which wept for her (in the rose-tinted shades of
-its Whig drawing-rooms, the while Tommy Moore set her sorrows to the
-sweetest and saddest of music) _allowed Anne Devlin to die of
-starvation_.
-
-
- SARAH CURRAN
-
-In thinking of Sarah Curran we paraphrase unconsciously the pitiful
-lines of one of our Irish poets and say of her:
-
- “There was a _maid_ whom Sorrow named his friend,
- And _she_ of her high comrade Sorrow dreaming,
- Went walking with slow steps.”
-
-From her earliest years sorrow had walked with her as friend with
-friend; and the sadness of her death was but in keeping with the sadness
-of her birth, of her disposition, of her home-life, of her love story.
-
-We know from the confidences of John Philpot Curran’s most intimate
-friends that the brilliant gaiety of his convivial hours alternated with
-fits of the blackest depression. His friend, Charles Phillips, writes of
-him: “It was with him as it is with every person whose spirits are apt
-to be occasionally excited—the depression is at intervals in exact
-proportion.... He was naturally sensitive—domestic misfortunes rendered
-his home unhappy—he flew for a kind of refuge into public life; and the
-political ruin of his country, leaving him without an object of private
-enjoyment or of patriotic hope, flung him upon his own heart-devouring
-reflections.... It was a deplorable thing to see him, in the decline of
-life, when visited by this constitutional melancholy. I have not
-unfrequently accompanied him in his walks upon such occasions, almost at
-the hour of midnight. He had gardens attached to the Priory, of which he
-was particularly fond; and into these gardens, when so affected, no
-matter at what hour, he used to ramble. It was then almost impossible to
-divert his mind from themes of sadness. The gloom of his own thoughts
-discoloured everything, and from calamity to calamity he would wander
-on—seeing in the future nothing for hope, and in the past nothing but
-disappointment.”
-
-The home of such a man cannot have been a very happy one for his
-children; and the sufferings imposed on his family by Curran’s attacks
-of _melancholia_ must have been aggravated in the case of his youngest
-daughter Sarah, who inherited, with her father’s genius and her father’s
-artistic and musical sensibility, more than her share of her father’s
-disposition to sadness. In the large dark mournful eyes of her, which
-had also come to her from her father, was mirrored the hereditary
-sadness of her soul.
-
-This hereditary sadness, fostered by an unhappy home-life, was further
-strengthened by two events which darkened her childhood. The one was the
-death of her favourite sister, Gertrude, who died at the age of twelve,
-when Sarah herself was a girl of eleven. Gertrude was a musical prodigy,
-and the whole family, and especially Sarah and her father, who were
-passionately fond of music, worshipped her. Curran insisted on the dead
-girl being buried in the Priory grounds, and she was laid to rest under
-a large tree on the lawn, directly opposite the window of the children’s
-nursery. “Under its shade they [_i.e._ Gertrude and Sarah] had often sat
-together, pulled the first primroses at its roots, and watched in its
-leaves the earliest verdure of the spring. Many an hour, for many a
-year, did the sorrowful survivor take her silent stand at the melancholy
-window, gazing on the well-known spot, which constituted all her little
-world of joys and sorrows. To this circumstance she attributed the
-tendency to melancholy which formed so marked a feature of her character
-through life.”[97]
-
-Footnote 97:
-
- Quoted by Madden from article entitled “Some Passages in the History
- of Sarah Curran,” in “Literary Souvenir” of 1831. The writer is
- believed to have been a lady of the Crawford family, who were intimate
- friends of Sarah and her people.
-
-Two years after Gertrude’s death, a grief even more intolerable befel
-our poor Sarah. She lost her mother, whose favourite daughter she
-was—and it was worse than death which caused the separation. Sarah was
-fourteen at the time—old enough to feel the shame, and to suffer the
-agony of it in every fibre of her pure and noble nature. So overwhelmed
-was she with grief that it was thought advisable for her to leave the
-Priory for some time. She therefore accepted the offer of hospitality
-made her by an early college friend of her father, Rev. Thomas Crawford,
-of Lismore, and remained with his family “until better thoughts at home
-led to her return to it.”
-
-At what time she learned to know Robert Emmet we are not definitely
-informed. The Emmets and the Currans were old acquaintances—if not
-friends—and for a time at least Thomas Addis Emmet and John Philpot
-Curran were neighbours in Rathfarnham. They must have often met,
-likewise, in the law-courts. Richard Curran, Sarah’s eldest brother, was
-a fellow-student of Robert Emmet’s at Trinity, and it was ostensibly to
-see him, and to enjoy the witty conversation of his father that Robert
-Emmet, after his return from Paris in 1802, paid his frequent visits to
-the Priory. Curran loved to see youth around him, and made the young men
-heartily welcome.
-
-And all the time it was Sarah that drew the young patriot to the house
-her presence glorified for him—Sarah with her pale and delicate
-loveliness, the soft cloud of her black hair, the haunting sadness of
-her great dark eyes, the exquisite voice of her that moved him to the
-very depths of his soul, singing some of the tender old Irish airs he
-loved so well! Sarah with her fatal dower of loveliness, and genius, and
-music, and passion—and sorrow.
-
- * * * * *
-
-It is quite certain that after the failure of the Insurrection of July
-23rd, 1803, Emmet could have escaped to America, had not he risked his
-all for the sake of one last meeting with his love. He came back to an
-old lodging of his at the house of Mrs. Palmer at Harold’s Cross, and
-from this place he sent a letter through Anne Devlin to Sarah Curran.
-
-A few days later, Government received information that Emmet was at Mrs.
-Palmer’s. On August 25, Major Sirr rode out there and captured him,
-bringing him back handcuffed, to Dublin Castle, whence he was committed
-to Kilmainham Gaol on the charge of High Treason.
-
-When he was arrested, two letters[98] in a lady’s hand-writing were
-found in his possession. As these letters clearly showed that their
-writer was fully acquainted with Emmet’s plans, the authorities were
-most anxious to discover from whom they came. They half suspected that
-they had been written by his sister, Mrs. Holmes, and that the language
-of a love affair was adopted as a means of averting suspicion. Emmet, in
-an agony of mind, lest the writer should be discovered, offered at his
-Examination before the Privy Council to accept any consequences for
-himself if the lady’s name should not appear.
-
-Footnote 98:
-
- MacDonagh: “Viceroy’s Post-Bag,” p. 342 _et seq._
-
-Alas! it was his own mistaken trust in the turnkey of Kilmainham, George
-Dunn, which put Government in possession of the knowledge they had
-hitherto vainly sought. Dunn had been bribed by St. John Mason, Emmet’s
-cousin, to facilitate his escape, but while pretending to fall in with
-Mason’s plans he had in reality betrayed them to the Castle. Knowing
-nothing of this, Emmet entrusted to George Dunn, a letter openly
-addressed to “Miss Sarah Curran”—and this letter (which clearly
-indicated her as the writer of the others) was, within an hour, in the
-hands of the Chief Secretary.
-
-Amid the other grim documents of the Home Office Secret Papers this love
-letter of Emmet’s keeps strange company. It has been published, for the
-first time, in “The Viceroy’s Post-Bag” (p. 358):—
-
- “My dearest Love,
-
- “I don’t know how to write to you. I never felt so oppressed in
- my life as at the cruel injury I have done to you. I was seized
- and searched with a pistol over me before I could destroy your
- letters. They have been compared with those found before. I was
- threatened with having them brought forward against me in Court.
- I offered to plead guilty if they would suppress them. This was
- refused. Information (without mentioning names) was required. I
- refused, but offered since if I would be permitted to consult
- others, and that they would consent to enter into any
- accommodation of that nature to save the lives of those
- condemned, that I would only require for my part of it to have
- those letters suppressed, and that I would stand my trial. It
- has been refused. My love, can you forgive me?
-
- “I wanted to know whether anything had been done respecting the
- person who wrote the letters, for I feared you might have been
- arrested. They refused to tell me for a long time. At length,
- when I said that it was but fair if they expected I should enter
- into any accommodation that I should know for what I was to do
- it, they then asked me whether bringing you into the room to me
- would answer my purpose, upon which I got up and told them that
- it might answer theirs better. I was sure you were arrested, and
- I could not stand the idea of seeing you in that situation. When
- I found, however, that this was not the case, I began to think
- that they only meant to alarm me; but their refusal has only
- come this moment and my fears are renewed. Not that they can do
- anything to you even if they would be base enough to attempt it,
- for they can have no proof who wrote them, nor did I let your
- name escape me once, nor even acknowledge that they were written
- directly to myself. But I fear they may suspect from the stile,
- and from the hair, for they took the stock[99] from me, and I
- have not been able to get it back from them, and that they may
- think of bringing you forward.
-
-Footnote 99:
-
- Is this the black velvet stock with the lock of hair, marked
- Miss C., attached to it which Madden says was sold at
- Russborough’s auction in “the thirties”?
-
- “I have written to your father to come to me to-morrow. Had you
- not better speak to himself to-night. Destroy my letters that
- there may be nothing against yourself, and deny having any
- knowledge of me further than seeing me once or twice. For God’s
- sake, write to me by the bearer one line to tell me how you are
- in spirits. I have no anxiety, no care, about myself; but I am
- terribly oppressed about you. My dearest love, I would with joy
- lay down my life, but ought I to do more? Do not be alarmed;
- they may try to frighten you, but they cannot do more. God bless
- you, my dearest love.
-
- “I must send this off at once; I have written it in the dark. My
- dearest Sarah, forgive me.”
-
- * * * * *
-
-The next morning Major Sirr and a party of yeomanry presented themselves
-at the Priory with warrants to search the house for papers, and arrest
-Sarah Curran. The events of that morning are graphically described by
-the Chief Secretary, Mr. Wickham, to the Home Secretary.
-
- “_Secret_
- “Dublin Castle, _Sept. 9, 1803_.
-
- “My dear Sir,
-
- “The writer of the letter found in Mr. Emmet’s pocket is
- discovered. She proves to be Mr. Curran’s youngest daughter.
- This discovery has given rise to some very unpleasant and
- distressing scenes. It became indispensably necessary to search
- the apartment of the lady for papers. She resided at her
- father’s house in the country near Rathfarnham, within a short
- distance of Butterfield Lane. Major Sirr was sent there this
- morning with a letter addressed to Mr. Curran, of which I send a
- copy inclosed. Unfortunately, Mr. Curran was not at home, and
- still more unfortunately the young lady was not up, tho’ the
- rest of the family (two other daughters and a son) were
- assembled at breakfast, so that the Major entered the room where
- she was still in bed. This circumstance occasioned a scene of
- great confusion and distress, and was also productive of some
- inconvenience, for whilst the Major and the other daughter were
- giving assistance to Mr. Emmet’s correspondent—who was thrown
- into violent convulsions—the eldest Miss Curran continued to
- destroy some papers, the few scraps of which that were saved
- were in Mr. Emmet’s hand-writing.
-
- “I have the satisfaction to add that Mr. Curran is satisfied
- that Government has acted throughout with great personal
- delicacy towards him, and that on his part he has acted fairly
- towards Government, and that he was unquestionably ignorant of
- the connection between his daughter and Mr. Emmet.
-
- “The Lord Lieutenant particularly requests that Miss Curran’s
- name may not be mentioned. It is difficult that it should be
- long concealed, but it is desirable that it should not be first
- mentioned by any member of Government in either country.
-
- “The Attorney-General, who has had the kindness to go himself to
- Mr. Curran’s house at Rathfarnham, gives the most melancholy and
- affecting account of the state in which he left the whole
- family.”
-
- * * * * *
-
-Curran had been engaged by Emmet as his Counsel, but he immediately
-threw up his brief. He had never liked the Emmets; but now when Robert’s
-action had brought danger to his own family, and obstacles to his own
-advancement, his feeling towards him—and towards his own daughter—became
-a hatred, with elements of madness in it. Of his treatment of the latter
-we shall speak later.
-
-To the curt letter in which Curran announced to the prisoner his refusal
-to act as his Counsel, Robert replied as follows:—
-
- “I did not expect you to be my counsel: I nominated you because
- not to have done so might have appeared remarkable. Had Mr.
- ——[100] been in town I did not even wish to have seen you, but
- as he was not I wrote to you to come to me at once. I know that
- I have done you very severe injury, much greater than I can
- atone for with my life. That atonement I did offer to make
- before the Privy Council, by pleading guilty if those documents
- were suppressed. I offered more. I offered if I was permitted to
- consult some persons, and if they would consent to an
- accommodation for saving the lives of others, that I would only
- require for my part of it the suppression of those documents,
- and that I would abide the event of my own trial. This was also
- rejected, and nothing but individual information (with the
- exception of names) would be taken. My intention was not to
- leave the suppression of these documents to possibility, but to
- render it unnecessary for anyone to plead for me, by pleading
- guilty to the charge myself.
-
-Footnote 100:
-
- Madden believes that the name indicated by the blank was that
- of his brother-in-law, Robert Holmes. But it seems from other
- references more likely to have been Councillor Burton—Curran’s
- clerk.
-
- “The circumstances that I am now going to mention I do not
- state in my own justification. When I first addressed your
- daughter I expected that in another week my own fate would be
- decided. I knew that in case of success many others might look
- on me differently from what they did at that moment, but I
- speak with sincerity when I say that I never was anxious for
- situation or distinction myself, and I did not wish to be
- united to one who was. I spoke to your daughter neither
- expecting, nor, in fact, under those circumstances, wishing,
- that there should be a return of attachment, but wishing to
- judge of her dispositions—to know how far they might not be
- unfavourable or disengaged, and to know what foundation I
- might afterwards have to count on. I received no encouragement
- whatever. She told me she had no attachment for any person,
- nor did she seem likely to have any that could make her wish
- to quit you.
-
- “I staid away till the time had elapsed when I found that the
- event to which I have alluded was to be postponed indefinitely.
- I returned by a kind of infatuation, thinking that to myself
- only was I giving pleasure or pain. I perceived no progress of
- attachment on her part, nor anything in her conduct to
- distinguish me from a common acquaintance.
-
- “Afterwards I had reason to suppose that discoveries were made,
- and that I should be obliged to quit the Kingdom immediately;
- and I came to make a renunciation of any approach to friendship
- that might have been formed. On that very day she herself spoke
- to me to discontinue my visits. I told her that it was my
- intention, and I mentioned the reason. I then for the first time
- found, when I was unfortunate, by the manner in which she was
- affected, that there was a return of affection, and that it was
- too late to retreat. My own apprehensions, also I found
- afterwards were without cause, and I remained.
-
- “There has been much culpability on my part in all this; but
- there has also been a great deal of that misfortune which seems
- uniformly to have accompanied me.
-
- “That I have written to your daughter since an unfortunate event
- has taken place was an additional breach of propriety, for which
- I have suffered well. But I will candidly confess that I not
- only do not feel it to have been of the same extent, but that I
- consider it to have been unavoidable after what has passed; for
- though I will not attempt to justify in the smallest degree my
- former conduct, yet, when an attachment was once formed between
- us—and a sincerer one never did exist—I feel that, peculiarly
- circumstanced as I then was, to have left her uncertain of my
- situation would neither have weaned her affections nor lessened
- her anxiety; and looking upon her as one, whom, if I had lived,
- I hoped to have had my partner for life, I did hold the removing
- of her anxiety above every other consideration. I would rather
- have had the affections of your daughter in the back settlements
- of America, than the first situation this country could afford
- without them.
-
- “I know not whether this will be any extenuation of my offence.
- I know not whether it will be any extenuation of it to know that
- if I had that situation in my power at this moment I would
- relinquish it to devote my life to her happiness. I know not
- whether success would have blotted out the recollection of what
- I have done. But I know that a man with the coldness of death on
- him need not be made to feel any other coldness, and that he may
- be spared any addition to the misery he feels, not for himself,
- but for those to whom he has left nothing but sorrow.”
-
- * * * * *
-
-There were all the elements of the cad in John Philpot Curran’s
-character, and these came to the surface after his return to his house
-on September 9th, when he presented himself in the darkened chamber
-where his daughter lay in her agony. After one terrible interview, he
-refused to see her, or to speak to her, ever again.
-
-He had perforce to shelter her for a little time longer under his
-roof—for brain fever, followed by a temporary loss of reason, brought
-her to death’s door. She was thus mercifully spared, as her friend said,
-“the misery of travelling step by step, through the wilderness of woe
-which Emmet’s trial and execution would have proved to her.”
-
-On the night before his execution (while his love tossed in the delirium
-of fever, and the sister who watched by her bed had her heart torn by
-the way she called his name) Robert Emmet wrote two letters which are
-eloquent of the thoughts of her which filled his heart until it ceased
-to beat. One is addressed to her brother, Richard, who had found means
-to send his friend a message of kindness, which might almost atone for
-his father’s caddish cruelty:
-
- “My dearest Richard,
-
- “I find I have but a few hours to live; but if it was the last
- moment, and that the power of utterance was leaving me, I would
- thank you from the bottom of my heart for your generous
- expressions of affection and forgiveness to me. If there was
- anyone in the world in whose breast my death might be supposed
- not to stifle every spark of resentment, it might be you. I have
- deeply injured you—I have injured the happiness of a sister that
- you love, and who was formed to give happiness to everyone about
- her, instead of having her mind a prey to affliction. Oh!
- Richard, I have no excuse to offer, but that I meant the
- reverse. I intended as much happiness for Sarah as the most
- ardent love could have given her. I never did tell you how much
- I idolised her. It was not with a wild or unfounded passion, but
- it was an attachment increasing every hour, from an admiration
- of the purity of her mind and respect for her talents. I did
- dwell in secret upon the prospect of our union. I did hope that
- success, while it afforded the opportunity of our union, might
- be a means of confirming an attachment which misfortune had
- called forth. I did not look to honours for myself—praise I
- would have asked from the lips of no man; but I would have
- wished to read in the glow of Sarah’s countenance that her
- husband was respected.
-
- “My love, Sarah! it was not thus that I thought to have requited
- your affection. I did hope to be a prop round which your
- affections might have clung, and which would never have been
- shaken; but a rude blast has snapped it, and they have fallen
- over a grave.
-
- “This is no time for affliction. I have had public motives to
- sustain my mind, and I have not suffered it to sink; but there
- have been moments in my imprisonment when my mind was so sunk by
- grief on her account that death would have been a refuge. God
- bless you, my dearest Richard. I am obliged to leave off
- immediately.”
-
-The second was addressed to Thomas Addis Emmet and his wife. It was
-suppressed by the Lord Lieutenant’s orders, and found its final
-destination in the Home Office Secret Papers, whence Mr. MacDonagh first
-exhumed it:
-
- “My dearest Tom and Jane,
-
- “I am just going to do my last duty to my country. It can be
- done as well on the scaffold as on the field. Do not give way to
- any weak feeling on my account, but rather encourage proud ones
- that I have possessed fortitude and tranquillity of mind to the
- last.
-
- “God bless you and the young hopes that are growing up about
- you. May they be more fortunate than their uncle; but may they
- preserve as pure and ardent an attachment to their country as he
- has done. Give the watch to little Robert. He will not prize it
- the less for having been in the possession of two Roberts before
- him. I have one dying request to make to you. I was attached to
- Sarah Curran, the youngest daughter of your friend. I did hope
- to have had her my companion for life. I did hope that she would
- not only have constituted my happiness, but that her heart and
- understanding would have made her one of Jane’s dearest friends.
- I know that Jane would have loved her on my account and I feel
- also that had they been acquainted she must have loved her on
- her own. No one knew of the attachment until now, nor is it now
- generally known, therefore do not speak of it to others. She is
- living with her father and brother, but if these protectors
- should fall off and that no other should replace them, treat her
- as my wife and love her as a sister. God Almighty bless you all.
- Give my love to all my friends.”
-
- * * * * *
-
-As soon as his daughter was able to travel, Curran drove her from his
-house. She first found shelter with her kind friends the Crawfords, of
-Lismore, and subsequently with a Quaker family called Penrose at
-Woodhill, Cork, whose kindness to the broken-hearted, homeless girl
-helped to restore her to some degree of strength. On one occasion,
-during her stay with them, they persuaded her to go to a masked ball in
-Cork. The “mask” selected for her was that of a wandering ballad-singer,
-and in this character she sang, in the exquisite voice, which had so
-often charmed her dead young lover, some of the beautiful, plaintive
-Irish airs of Owenson.
-
-A romantic young officer, Captain Sturgeon, lost his heart to the
-singer—and when he heard her story his affections were but the more
-deeply engaged. Himself, the offspring of a most romantic marriage,[101]
-he found in the halo of poetry, with which Sarah’s sad love-story
-invested her, but an added attraction. He, therefore, proposed for her
-hand; and the Penroses who saw in this marriage, the one hope of their
-friend’s future settlement, urged his suit with much ardour. At this
-time consumption had declared itself in her fragile form, and the
-doctors stated that residence in a warm climate was necessary to save
-her life. Captain Sturgeon was ordered to Sicily in the winter of 1805,
-and this fact seemed to Miss Curran’s friends, the Penroses, an
-additional reason for urging her to accept his proposal.
-
-Footnote 101:
-
- His mother, Lady Harriet Wentworth, sister to the Marquis of
- Rockingham, had married her footman.
-
-At last she yielded to the united entreaties of her friends and gave her
-hand to Captain Sturgeon, with his full knowledge that her heart was
-buried in Emmet’s unknown grave.
-
-In the spring of 1808 the English had to abandon Sicily, when Captain
-Sturgeon and his wife returned to England in a crowded transport, in
-very tempestuous weather. An unfinished letter of Sarah’s to one of her
-friends, will tell in all the pathos of its simplicity the end of her
-sorrowful story:
-
- “Hythe, _April 17, 1808_.
-
- “My dear M——, I suppose you do not know of my arrival from
- Sicily, or I should have heard from you. I must be very brief in
- the details of events which have been so fatal to me, and which
- followed our departure from that country. A most dreadful and
- perilous passage occasioned me many frights. I was, on our
- entrance into the channel, prematurely delivered of a boy,
- without any assistance, save that of one of the soldier’s wives,
- the only woman on board but myself. The storm being so high that
- no boat could stand out to sea, I was in imminent danger till
- twelve the next day, when, at the risk of his life, a physician
- came on board from one of the ships and relieved me. The storm
- continued, and I got brain fever, which, however, passed off. To
- be short, on landing at Portsmouth, the precious creature for
- whom I suffered so much, God took to Himself. The inexpressible
- anguish I felt at this event, preying on me, has occasioned the
- delay of my health. For the last month the contest between life
- and death has seemed doubtful; but this day having called in a
- very clever man, he seems not to think me in danger. My disorder
- is a total derangement of the nervous system, and its most
- dreadful effects I find in an attack on my mind and spirits. _I
- suffer misery you cannot conceive._ I am often seized with heavy
- perspirations, trembling and that indescribable horror which you
- must know if ever you had fever. Write instantly to me. Alas! I
- want everything to soothe my mind, O my friend, would to heaven
- you were with me! nothing so much as the presence of a dear
- female friend would tend to my recovery. But in England you know
- how I am situated—not one I know intimately. To make up for this
- my beloved husband is everything to me; his conduct throughout
- all my troubles surpasses all praise. Write to me, dear M., and
- tell me how to bear all these things. I have, truly speaking,
- cast all my care on the Lord; but oh! how our weak natures fail
- every day, every hour I may say. _On board the ship, when all
- seemed adverse to hope, it is strange how an overstrained trust
- in certain words of our Saviour gave me such perfect faith in
- His help, that, though my baby was visibly pining away, I never
- doubted his life for a moment. ‘He who gathers the lambs in His
- arms,’ I thought, would look on mine if I had faith in Him. This
- has often troubled me since._”
-
- * * * * *
-
-Extract from _Gentleman’s Magazine_ for 1808: “May 5th, 1808, at Hythe,
-in Kent, of a rapid decline, aged 26, Sarah, wife of Captain Henry
-Sturgeon, youngest daughter of the Right Hon. J. P. Curran, Master of
-the Rolls in Ireland.”
-
-
- ANNE DEVLIN
-
-In 1842 when Dr. Madden was engaged in his researches for his memoir of
-Robert Emmet, he was directed to a certain old washerwoman, called
-Campbell, then living in great poverty and obscurity in a stable-yard
-off John’s Lane. This old woman, he was told, was the only one then
-living, in all probability, who could give an authentic account of what
-happened on the night of July the 23rd, 1803, after the flight of the
-leaders and the rout of their followers.
-
-How did she come to have this information? For the reason that she had
-helped Rosie Hope to cook and keep house for Robert Emmet and his
-companions in the establishment he had leased (in the name of Robert
-Ellis) in Butterfield Lane, Rathfarnham, during the months of active
-preparation for the Rising. Her father was a well-to-do dairyman, of the
-neighbourhood, and both he and his sons, as well as their kinsmen,
-Michael Dwyer, the Wicklow “outlaw,” and Arthur Devlin, were deep in
-Robert Emmet’s plans. His daughter’s housewifely skill had been devoted
-to the Cause in the same spirit as her male relatives’ soldier-service.
-Her maiden name, which Dr. Madden’s informant had previously omitted to
-mention, was—Anne Devlin.
-
-Anne Devlin! Can anyone living to-day, with a drop of Irish blood in his
-or her veins, hear that name without a great stirring of the heart? It
-stands for a heroism, a fortitude, a devotion, a fidelity, a loyalty,
-which even to have conceived, honours all human nature—and which to have
-produced, ennobles Irish womanhood for all time. Anne Devlin! Amid the
-great names of our race which thrill each Irish heart as with a trumpet
-note, what name has power to move us as does that?
-
-We owe it to Dr. Madden that the name means so much to us. Had he not
-sought her out, and drawn her story from her lips, and raised her body
-from its pauper burial place to lay it, in its rightful place amid the
-noblest in Glasnevin, that name might have meant as little to us as it
-did to the generation, which Dr. Madden’s appeal for her (in the first
-edition of his “United Irishmen”) left unmoved, and which, during his
-absence, from Ireland, left her to die of cold and hunger in a tenement
-house, and be buried in a pauper’s grave.
-
- * * * * *
-
- “In the summer of 1843,” writes Dr. Madden, “accompanied by Anne
- Devlin, I proceeded to Butterfield Lane, to ascertain the fact
- of the existence or non-existence of the house in which Robert
- Emmet had resided in 1803. For a length of time our search was
- fruitless. The recollection of a locality at the expiration of
- forty years is a very dim sort of reminiscence. There was no
- house in the lane the exterior of which reminded my conductress
- of her old scene of suffering. At length her eye caught an old
- range of buildings at some distance, like the offices of a
- farmhouse. This she at once recognised as part of the premises
- of her father, and she was soon able to point out the well-known
- fields around it, which had once been in her father’s
- possession. The house, alongside of which we were standing, on
- the right-hand side of the lane going from Rathfarnham road, she
- said must be the house of Mr. Emmet, though the entrance was
- entirely altered; however, the position of an adjoining house
- left little doubt in her mind. We knocked at the door, and I
- found the house was inhabited by a lady of my acquaintance, the
- daughter of a Protestant clergyman, who had been, strange to
- say, the college friend and most intimate acquaintance of Robert
- Emmet, the late Dr. Hayden, of Rathcoole.
-
- “The lady of the house, in whom I discovered an acquaintance,
- left us in no doubt on the subject of the locality—we were in
- the house that had been tenanted by Robert Emmet. The scene that
- ensued is one more easily conceived than described. We were
- conducted over the house—my aged companion at first in silence,
- and then as if slowly awakening from a dream, rubbing her dim
- eyes, and here and there pausing for some moments when she came
- to some recognised spot. On the ground floor she pointed out a
- small room, on the left-hand of the entrance—‘That’s the room
- where Mr. Dowdall and Mr. Hamilton used to sleep.’ The entrance
- has been changed from about the centre to the right-hand end;
- the window of a small room there has been converted into the
- door-way, and the room itself into the hall. ‘This,’ said Anne
- Devlin, ‘was my room; I know it well—my mattress used to be in
- that corner.’ There was one place, every corner and cranny of
- which she seemed to have a familiar acquaintance with, and that
- was the kitchen. On the upper floor, the principal bed-room at
- the present time attracted her particular attention; she stood
- for some time gazing into the room from the door-way; I asked
- her whose room it had been. It was a good while before I got an
- answer in words, but her trembling hands, and the few tears
- which came from a deep source, and spoke of sorrow of an old
- date, left no necessity to repeat that question—it was the room
- of Robert Emmet.
-
- “Another on the same floor was that of Russell. They slept on
- mattresses on the floor—there was scarcely any furniture in the
- house; they often went out after dark, seldom or never in the
- day-time. They were always in good spirits, and Mr. Hamilton
- used often to sing—he was a very good singer; Mr. Robert
- sometimes hummed a tune, but he was no great singer, but he was
- the best and kindest-hearted of all the persons she had ever
- known; he was too good for many of those who were about him. Of
- Russell she spoke in terms hardly less favourable than those in
- which she expressed her opinions of Emmet.... At the rear of the
- house, in the courtyard, she pointed out the spot where she had
- undergone the punishment of half-hanging, and while she did so
- there was no appearance of emotions, such at least as one might
- expect recalled terror might produce, but there were very
- evident manifestations of another kind, of as lively a
- remembrance of the wrongs and outrages that had been inflicted
- on her, as if they had been endured but the day before, and of
- as keen a sense of those indignities and cruelties, as if her
- cowardly assailants had been before her, and those withered
- hands of hers had power to grapple with them.”
-
-And then, amidst the very scenes which had been hallowed by Robert
-Emmet’s presence and Anne Devlin’s sufferings Dr. Madden heard from her
-lips the high, heroic tale once more.
-
- * * * * *
-
- “On July the 23rd at about eleven o’clock at night,” Anne Devlin
- told Dr. Madden, “Robert Emmet, Nicholas Stafford, Michael
- Quigley, Thomas Wylde, John Mahon, John Hevey, and the two
- Perrotts from Naas came to the house at Butterfield Lane. She
- first saw them outside of the house, in the yard; she was at
- that moment sending off a man on horseback with ammunition in a
- sack, and bottles filled with powder. She called out, ‘Who’s
- there?’ Robert answered, ‘It’s me, Anne.’ She said, ‘Oh, bad
- welcome to you, is the world lost by you, you cowards that you
- are, to lead the people to destruction, and then to leave them.’
- Robert Emmet said, ‘Don’t blame me, the fault is not mine.’ They
- then came in; Quigley was present, but they did not upbraid him.
- Emmet and the others told her afterwards that Quigley was the
- cause of the failure....
-
- “They stopped at Butterfield lane that night and next day, and
- at night about ten o’clock, fled to the mountains, when they got
- information that the house was to be searched. Her father, who
- kept a dairy close by, got horses for three of them, and went
- with them.
-
- “Rose Hope, the wife of James Hope, had been there keeping the
- house also. The reason of their stopping there that night was,
- that Emmet expected Dwyer and the mountaineers down in the
- morning by break of day, but Dwyer had not got Emmet’s previous
- letter, and had heard of Emmet’s defeat only the next day, and
- therefore did not come. Mr. Emmet and his companions first went
- to Doyle’s in the mountains, and thence to the widow Bagenell’s.
- Anne Devlin and Miss Wylde, the sister of Mrs. Mahon, two or
- three days after, went up to the mountains in a jingle with
- letters for them. They found Robert Emmet and his associates at
- the Widow Bagenell’s, sitting on the side of the hill; some of
- them were in their uniform, for they had no other clothes.
-
- “Robert Emmet insisted on coming back with her and her
- companion, he parted with them before they came to Rathfarnham,
- but she knows not where he went that night, but in a day or two
- after he sent her to take a letter to Miss Curran; he was then
- staying at Mrs. Palmer’s, at Harold’s Cross.
-
- “The day after ... a troop of yeomen came with a magistrate, and
- searched the house. Every place was ransacked from top to
- bottom. As for herself she was seized on when they first rushed
- in, as if they were going to tear down the house. She was kept
- below by three or four of the yeomen with their fixed bayonets
- pointed at her, and so close to her body that she could feel
- their points. When the others came down she was examined. She
- said she knew nothing in the world about the gentlemen, except
- that she was the servant maid; where they came from, where they
- went to, she knew nothing about; and so long as her wages were
- paid she cared to know nothing else about them.
-
- “The magistrate pressed her to tell the truth—he threatened her
- with death if she did not tell; she persisted in asserting her
- total ignorance of _Mr. Ellis’s_ acts and movements, and of
- those of the other gentlemen. At length the magistrate gave the
- word to hang her, and she was dragged into the courtyard to be
- executed. There was a common car there—they tilted up the shafts
- and fixed a rope from the backband that goes across the shafts,
- and while these preparations were making for her execution, the
- yeomen kept her standing against the wall of the house, prodding
- her with their bayonets in the arms and shoulders till she was
- all covered with blood, and saying to her at every thrust of the
- bayonet, ‘Will you confess now; will you tell now where is Mr.
- Ellis?’ Her constant answer was, ‘I have nothing to tell, I will
- tell nothing.’
-
- “The rope was at length put about her neck; she was dragged to
- the place where the car was converted into a gallows; she was
- placed under it, and the end of the rope was passed over the
- backband. The question was put to her for the last time, ‘Will
- you confess where Mr. Ellis is?’ Her answer was, ‘You may murder
- me, you villains, but not one word about him will you ever get
- from me.’ She had just time to say, ‘The Lord Jesus have mercy
- on my soul,’ when a tremendous shout was raised by the yeomen;
- the rope was pulled by all of them except those who held down
- the back part of the car, and in an instant she was suspended by
- the neck. After she had been thus suspended for two or three
- minutes her feet touched the ground, and a savage yell of
- laughter recalled her to her senses. The rope round her neck was
- loosened, and her life was spared—she was let off with
- half-hanging. She was then sent to town, and brought before
- Major Sirr.
-
- “No sooner was she brought before Major Sirr, than he, in the
- most civil and coaxing manner, endeavoured to prevail on her to
- give information respecting Robert Emmet’s place of concealment.
- The question continually put to her was, ‘Well, Anne, all we
- want to know is, where did he go to from Butterfield lane?’ He
- said he would undertake to obtain for her the sum (he did not
- call it reward) of £500, which he added, ‘was a fine fortune for
- a young woman,’ only to tell against persons who were not her
- relations; that all the others had confessed the truth—which was
- not true—and that they were sent home liberated, which was also
- a lie.”
-
- Dr. Madden said to her with pretended seriousness, “You took the
- money, of course.” Her indignant answer, accompanied by a look
- to which Dr. Madden felt only a painter could do justice—was “Me
- take the money—the price of Mr. Robert’s blood! No; I spurned
- the rascal’s offer.”
-
- “The major went on coaxing, trying to persuade her to confess.
- He said everything had been told him by one of her associates.
- Nay, what’s more, he repeated word for word, what she had said
- to Mr. Robert the night of the 23rd, when he came back to
- Butterfield lane—‘Bad welcome to you, etc.’ One of the persons
- present with him then must have undoubtedly been an informer.
- After she had been some time in Kilmainham, Mr. Emmet was
- arrested and sent to that prison. Dr. Trevor had frequently
- talked to her about him, but she never ‘let on’ that she had any
- acquaintance with him. At this time she was kept in solitary
- confinement for refusing to give information. One day the doctor
- came and spoke to her in a very good-natured way, and said she
- must have some indulgence, she must be permitted to take
- exercise in the yard. The turnkey was ordered to take her to the
- yard, and he accordingly did so; but when the yard-door was
- open, who should she see walking very fast up and down the yard,
- but Mr. Robert. She thought she would have dropped. She saw the
- faces of people watching her at a grated window that looked into
- the yard, and her only dread was that Mr. Robert on recognising
- her would speak to her; but she kept her face away, and walked
- up and down on the other side; and when they had crossed one
- another several times, at last they met at the end. She took
- care, when his eyes met hers, to have a frown on her face, and
- her finger raised to her lips. He passed on as if he had never
- seen her—but he knew her well; and the half smile that came over
- his face, and passed off in a moment, could hardly have been
- observed except by one who knew every turn of his countenance.
- The doctor’s plot failed, she was taken back to her cell, and
- there was no more taking of air or exercise then for her.
-
- “She was in Kilmainham, a close prisoner, when Robert Emmet was
- executed. She was kept locked up in a solitary cell, and indeed
- always, with a few exceptions, was kept so during her
- confinement the first year. The day after his execution she was
- taken from gaol to the Castle, to be examined, through Thomas
- Street. The gaoler had given orders to stop the coach at the
- scaffold where Robert Emmet was executed. It was stopped there,
- and she was forced to look at his blood, which was still plain
- enough to be seen sprinkled over the deal boards.
-
- “At the latter end of her confinement, some gentlemen belonging
- to the Castle had come to the gaol and seen her in her cell. She
- told them her sad story, and it was told by them to the lord
- lieutenant. From that time her treatment was altogether
- different; she was not only allowed the range of the woman’s
- ward, but was permitted to go outside the prison, and three or
- four times, accompanied by her sister and Mrs. Dwyer and one of
- the turnkeys, was taken to the Spa at Lucan for the benefit of
- her health; for she was then crippled in her limbs, more dead
- than alive, hardly able to move hand or foot.
-
- “At length Mr. Pitt died; it was a joyful day for Ireland. The
- prisons were thrown open where many an honest person had lain
- since the month of July, 1803.”
-
- * * * * *
-
-Anne Devlin’s narrative to Dr. Madden did not exhaust the full tale of
-her sufferings. There is no mention in it of the fact that the whole of
-her family, except one sister and a brother who were mere children, had
-been thrown into prison, and their property ruined. As there was no
-place for the little brother to go he found refuge in his father’s cell
-in gaol. But the consolation of his boy’s company was not left long to
-old Brian Devlin. Some communication having been discovered between him
-and his daughter, the latter was removed from the new to the old gaol.
-Some time after, the boy, then sick of a fever, was taken in the night
-from his father’s cell and made to walk the mile which separated the new
-from the old gaol. Here he died in circumstances which were looked on as
-very suspicious.
-
-So atrocious was the treatment meted out to Anne Devlin by Dr. Trevor
-that the other prisoners made special mention of it in a Memorial they
-presented to Lord Hardwicke: “His treatment,” they stated, “of all, but
-especially of one unfortunate State prisoner, a female, is shocking to
-humanity, and exceeds credibility. He drives, through exasperation, the
-mind to madness, of which instances have already occurred.”
-
-Of what befel Anne Devlin when, broken in health and crippled in limb,
-she was at length liberated from Kilmainham we have no record. We must
-fill in for ourselves the main features of the forty years that elapsed
-before Dr. Madden discovered her in the old washerwoman, married to a
-poor labourer in “a stable yard” off John’s Lane. Poverty, sickness,
-grinding toil, hunger often, and want of every kind: these were her
-portion through those long years of misery.
-
-She might have had a different portion. She might have said the one
-little word her captors wanted her to say. She might have stretched out
-her hands for their five hundred golden guineas, and walked forth that
-moment a free woman. She might have seen her father’s fields restored to
-him and his business flourishing; and she, herself, the well-dowered
-daughter of the prosperous dairyman, would surely have found a
-husband—not too squeamish about the origin of his wife’s fortune—to keep
-her in comfort all the days of her life. She might have had all that
-most men hold most dear—as the price of a single word.
-
-She chose instead—what seemed certain death, and then torture of every
-description, both corporal and mental, until in the vile prison cell,
-the strong mind snapped, and the vigorous body broke. But the will,
-faithful to the end, never faltered.
-
- * * * * *
-
-The end of her story is told in a letter published by Dr. Madden in the
-_Nation_ of September 27th, 1851:—
-
- “Four years ago an appeal was made in the _Nation_ on behalf of
- Anne Devlin, which was in some small degree responded to—very,
- very inadequately, however. Afterwards we lost sight of her
- entirely. So it seems did others of her friends until it was too
- late. But last week, a gentleman who always took the warmest
- interest in this noble creature, was informed that she was still
- living in a miserable garret of No. 2 Little Elbow Lane, a
- squalid alley running from the Coombe to Pimlico. On this day
- week he sought that wretched abode, but she had died two days
- previously, and had been buried in Glasnevin on the preceding
- day. A young woman with an ill-fed infant in her arms,
- apparently steeped in poverty, but kindly-looking and
- well-mannered, in whose room Anne Devlin had lodged, said: ‘The
- poor creature, God help her, it was well for her she was dead.
- There was a coffin got from the Society for her, and she was
- buried the day before.’ To the enquiry, what complaint she had
- died of, the answer was—‘She was old and weak indeed, but she
- died mostly of want. She had a son, but he was not able to do
- much for her, except now and then to pay her lodging, which was
- fivepence a week. He lived away from her, and so did her
- daughter, who was a poor widow, and was hard enough set to get a
- living for herself. About ten or twelve days ago a gentleman
- (she believed of the name of Meehan) called there, and gave the
- old woman something. Only for this she would not have lived as
- long as she did. _She was very badly off, not only for food, but
- for bed-clothes. Nearly all the rags she had went at one time or
- another, to get her a morsel of bread._’”[102]
-
-Footnote 102:
-
- Dr. Madden has with delicate reticence veiled his own charity
- to Anne Devlin. It was during one of his absences abroad that
- she was lost sight of immediately before her death. The
- gentleman “of the name of Meehan” referred to in poor Anne’s
- landlady’s statement was Rev. C. P. Meehan, the historian.
- Father Meehan, Edward Kennedy (Miles Byrne’s half-brother),
- and Dr. Madden—let us remember their three names with
- gratitude, because out of their own scanty means, they tried
- to save the Irish nation from the disgrace of allowing Anne
- Devlin to die of hunger.
-
- * * * * *
-
- “It is a hard service they take, who help the Poor Old Woman....
- But for all that they think themselves well paid.”
-
-
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-
-
-
-
- SOME OTHER ROMANCES OF ’NINETY-EIGHT
-
-
-
-
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-
-
-
-
- Some Other Romances of ’Ninety-Eight
-
- “A pity beyond all telling
- Is hid in the heart of love.”—_Yeats._
-
-
-“LOVE and pain and death”—these, in the final analysis, are the
-substructure of life, and when some great force tears apart the
-concealing surface, the revelation which makes plain one of them,
-discovers the inevitable comradeship of the others. So when the mighty
-cataclysm of ’Ninety-Eight revealed the Pain and Death which are two of
-the foundations of life, there was revealed also, with a clearness which
-ordinary times know not, the third foundation, Love.
-
- * * * * *
-
-When we think of Betsy Grey, it is as the heroine of a very tender and
-sorrowful love-story. She was the daughter of a well-to-do farmer called
-Hans Grey, and was born near Granshaw, a few miles from Bangor, Co.
-Down. Her mother died when she was young, and her father, anxious to
-make up the loss as far as in him lay, sent his beautiful girl to one of
-the best boarding schools of the time. She returned, a lovely,
-high-spirited, clever, thoughtful girl, extremely well-educated and
-accomplished, and ardently interested in the burning questions of the
-day. Willie Boal, a young farmer of the district, speedily lost his
-heart to his charming neighbour, and when he found that his patriotic
-dreams for Ireland were shared by her, his love quickened and deepened.
-Willie Boal and Betsy’s brother, George Grey, were sworn United Men, and
-it is believed that Betsy, like so many other women of those times, had
-also taken the test.
-
-When the men of Down took the field in June, ’98, Betsy sought a place
-in their embattled ranks. Father and brother and lover set themselves to
-oppose her, and, as the best means of escaping her importunities, George
-and Willie stole away to the muster at Ballynahinch, without letting her
-know of their departure. When she discovered it, she went out into the
-yard, yoked her mare to a cart, filled the latter, with bread, butter
-and cheese, and gallantly set off unaccompanied. She arrived at the hill
-of Ednavady on the night of June the 12th, and the next day took part in
-the battle. The popular memory has preserved a vision of her, a
-bright-faced, beautiful girl, dressed in green silk, mounted on her
-gallant mare, and brandishing her burnished sword above her head, while
-side by side with Munroe she led one victorious charge after another.
-
-Unfortunately the success attained by the contingents on her side of the
-field was not general, and the close of the battle saw the patriots
-routed from the field.
-
-Betsy, in company with her brother, and her sweetheart, gained a rough
-tract of country, all broken with rocks and furze. Here they were
-overtaken by a party of Annahilt yeomen, and all three ruthlessly
-butchered.
-
-The bodies lay there all day, but at nightfall, the wife of the farmer
-on whose land the tragedy had occurred, stole out with her little
-son—and kind and reverent hands laid Betsy with her brother and lover in
-their grave “in the vale of Ballycreen,” which even to-day is a place of
-patriotic pilgrimage.
-
- * * * * *
-
-Both Dr. Madden and W. J. Fitzpatrick make frequent mention of Miss
-Moore (afterwards Mrs. MacCready), and often quote her authority for
-some of the most interesting episodes they relate. She was the daughter
-of James Moore, a wealthy merchant, with two large establishments in
-Thomas Street. She was educated in a convent at Tours, France, and
-before the outbreak of the French Revolution had made her return to
-Ireland necessary, had acquired an unusual mastery of the French
-language. In Dublin her beauty, set off by her French toilettes, and her
-cleverness, set off by her French education, made something of a
-sensation, and she had many suitors. The favoured one was Dr. MacNevin.
-Madden says that it was she who administered the United Irishmen’s oath
-to him, and in this connection he reveals her romance. “There can be now
-no impropriety in stating that the attachment which subsisted between
-MacNevin and Miss Moore was not solely a political one, and that there
-was a very ardent desire on the part of the former to make the fair
-Roland of her day, an Irishwoman legally _united_ to him.” Miss Moore
-herself had taken the oath from John Cormick, of Thomas Street, and she
-informed Dr. Madden that, to her own knowledge, several women were sworn
-members of the Society.
-
-She was often employed in bringing messages to the societies from Lord
-Edward, and not unfrequently passed through the streets in Dr. Adrien’s
-carriage, as a patient, with her arm bandaged and blood on her clothes.
-Lord Edward was a great friend of her father’s, and stayed at their
-house more than once, during the time he was in hiding, passing as her
-French tutor.
-
-About May the 16th, Lord Edward being then under their roof (while the
-Government Proclamation offered £1,000 reward for his arrest), a
-carpenter called Tuite happened to be doing some repairs in Dublin
-Castle. He heard the Under-Secretary, Cooke, say that James Moore’s
-house was to be searched, and he made an excuse to leave the Castle and
-warn Mr. Moore. As the latter had not only Lord Edward—but a
-commissariat for about 500 men on his premises—he thought the further he
-could get away from Dublin the better; so he fled to the banks of the
-Boyne, leaving his wife and daughter to provide for the
-Commander-in-Chief. Miss Moore, who, of course, had no reason to
-distrust Francis Magan, thought that there could be no safer place for
-the fugitive than in Magan’s house on Usher’s Island. She accordingly
-arranged with Magan for his reception there, and “for safety sake” it
-was suggested by Magan that, instead of coming in by his front door, the
-party accompanying Lord Edward were to seek admittance through his
-stables in Island Street. On the evening determined on, Mrs. and Miss
-Moore, accompanied by the latter’s “French tutor” (Lord Edward), and
-escorted by Mr. Moore’s confidential clerk, Gallagher, and his friend,
-Palmer (in reality Lord Edward’s bodyguard), set off for an evening
-stroll. They were met by Major Sirr and his men, who had (as, of course,
-we know now) got the word from Magan. A conflict ensued, in which Sirr
-fell to the ground and Gallagher was wounded, but Lord Edward and Miss
-Moore got off. She conveyed him to Murphy’s, the feather merchant’s, and
-returned home satisfied of his safety for the present.
-
-The next day Magan called on her, ostensibly to enquire why his expected
-guest had not turned up, and professing the most genuine concern for
-him. Miss Moore told him the whole story of their encounter of the night
-before, and, still, of course, suspecting nothing, informed Magan that
-Lord Edward was at Murphy’s. Magan at once communicated the tidings to
-his employers—and that evening Lord Edward was taken up.
-
-On one occasion during these troubled times, Dr. Gahan, the Augustinian,
-was visiting the Moores. Miss Moore had accompanied him to the hall, and
-was seeing him out when a great double knock came to the door. When it
-was opened, a body of soldiers marched in. Dr. Gahan stood politely
-aside to let them pass, but the brutes seized the poor old man and
-suspended him by the _queue_ to a hook in the warehouse, while they
-proceeded to search the house. Miss Moore cut him down, and then made
-off as swiftly as she could to warn the Directory, who were holding a
-meeting in James’s Gate. They escaped by a window opening into a
-neighbouring tanyard. As she returned, a soldier saw her, called her a
-vile name, and made a lunge at her with his bayonet. She stooped and
-thus saved herself, but the bayonet cut her shoulder. At that moment a
-shot rang out, and her assailant fell dead. A bullet from the gun of one
-of the best snipers the United Irishmen had in their ranks, had laid him
-low. Subsequently her father was arrested, and lodged in Birmingham
-Tower in the Castle. Miss Moore gave £500 to the doctor attending the
-prisoners to certify that her father was insane. Major Sirr was rather
-sceptical as to James Moore’s insanity, but the latter acted his part so
-convincingly that he was released.
-
-Owing perhaps to the circumstance that the particulars of the lives of
-Dr. MacNevin and Mrs. MacCready were furnished to Madden and Fitzpatrick
-respectively, by a daughter in the one case, and a son in the other, no
-mention of this romance of their early life occurs in either narrative.
-We are left to conjecture the reasons why it ended as it did. On March
-12th, 1798, Dr. MacNevin was arrested with the other leaders, and for
-the next four years he was kept a prisoner, first in Dublin and
-afterwards in Fort George. Did old James Moore, who, for all his
-attachment to the Cause, had the bump of prudence and caution well
-developed, take the opportunity of the doctor’s long exile to marry his
-daughter to Mr. MacCready? That might well be. In 1810 Dr. MacNevin,
-then in successful practice in America, married Mrs. Jane Margaret Tom,
-widow of a New York merchant, and sister of his intimate friend, Mr.
-Richard Riker.
-
- * * * * *
-
-Another heroine of a ’98 romance is Maria Steele, the “Stella” of John
-Sheares’s love verses. It was from her that Dr. Madden learned much of
-the information he has embodied in his memoir of the ill-fated brothers.
-The question of using or withholding her name in connection with the sad
-story was left by the lady to Dr. Madden’s own discretion. “Exercising,”
-as he states, “that judgment to the best of my ability, and with all the
-consideration that would be due to the feelings of that most estimable
-lady were she living, and that I owe to her memory now that she is no
-more, I give her name without reserve; because I feel in all sincerity
-that the name of Maria Steele will be associated with that of John
-Sheares, as that of Sarah Curran is with Robert Emmet’s; and that these
-names will be remembered with tenderness and pity.”
-
-It was in 1794 that John Sheares first became acquainted with Maria
-Steele, the elder daughter of the deceased Sir R. Parker Steele. The
-widowed Lady Steele and her girls were then living in Merrion Square,
-not very far from the Baggot Street residence of the Sheareses. In the
-early part of 1798 John Sheares made formal proposals to Lady Steele for
-her daughter’s hand, but though Maria’s mother was very fond of the
-young man, and he was on the most affectionate and familiar footing with
-her, the impression she had gathered of his religious sentiments made
-her refuse to entrust her child’s future to him. This decision is held
-responsible for having thrown John more violently into politics, than
-had hitherto been the case.
-
-As for Maria’s own feelings there is no doubt but that they were deeply
-engaged. Up to her latest hour she never mentioned his name “without
-tenderness and sorrow”; she treasured the piteous little relics which
-were associated with her brief romance. He had been lying for nearly
-forty years in the tragic vaults of St. Michan’s, when she sketched the
-portrait of him which adorns Madden’s pages. That picture is so lifelike
-because love guided the artist’s hand. Mary McCracken’s portrait of
-Thomas Russell, and Maria Steele’s of John Sheares, these two, are
-painted under the same inspiration. I find infinite pathos in the lines
-with which Maria, then an old woman, accompanied the copies of the
-papers in her possession which she had promised to Dr. Madden: “I should
-have sent the originals of these sad memorials to you had I suspected
-that I could still feel as I felt while copying them. I thought age and
-infirmity had made me a better philosopher. Three of these have never
-been opened except when you saw them, for more than thirty-four years.”
-
-The romance of Surgeon Lawless, the friend of John Sheares, and Miss
-Evans does not, strictly speaking, belong to ’98. But it is connected
-with it by sufficiently close ties to justify its inclusion here.
-
-William Lawless, a distinguished Dublin surgeon, and a relative of Lord
-Cloncurry’s, was a close friend of Lord Edward’s, and like the
-Sheareses, whose neighbour and intimate he was, became very active in
-the Cause after the arrest of the leaders at Bond’s on March 12th. On
-the Saturday on which Lord Edward was arrested (May 19) Surgeon Lawless
-received information at the College of Surgeons from his colleague,
-Surgeon Dease, that he was about to be taken up. He accordingly made
-arrangements to escape to France. He is said to have made his way on
-board a vessel in the disguise of a butcher’s man carrying a side of
-beef, and in this capacity met Major Sirr himself on the quays!
-
-Arrived in France, he entered the Army and made a great career for
-himself in the Napoleonic campaigns. Miles Byrne makes frequent mention
-of him, and it is to Byrne we owe our knowledge of the pretty romance of
-his marriage.
-
-Among the Irish exiles then resident in Paris the family of Hampden
-Evans[103] was very prominent. As Mr. Evans had a large fortune, and was
-hospitality itself, he loved to gather his fellow-countrymen around him;
-and among those who visited his house frequently was William Lawless.
-With him Mary Evans fell in love; but so well did she keep her secret
-that neither he nor any of her family suspected it, and he marched away
-with his regiment without a word of affection on either side. Shortly
-after came the news of the siege of Flushing by the English, with the
-destruction of the Irish battalion defending it, and the death of its
-Commander, William Lawless. “Mary Evans fell ill, and for more than six
-weeks her life was despaired of.... Mrs. Tone being in the habit of
-going to Mr. Hampden Evans’s house, and being on the most intimate terms
-with his daughters, might have suspected something of Miss Evans’s
-secret, but this secret was only divulged when she heard the man she
-loved was no more. She then told her mother, saying life to her now was
-not worth preserving, and wondering how Mrs. Tone could have survived
-the death of her heroic husband....”
-
-Footnote 103:
-
- Hampden Evans was an exile of ’98.
-
-But Commandant Lawless was not dead; and one day the gallant tale of how
-he had saved, at Walcheren, the French colours and the Eagle entrusted
-by the Emperor to the Irish Brigade, reached Paris. He had wrapped the
-flag round his body, plunged into the waves, and swam to an open boat a
-considerable distance from the shore; “then proudly exhibiting the
-standard of France amid a shower of bullets from the beach he bore it
-off in triumph.” For this exploit Lawless was named by the Emperor,
-knight of the Legion of Honour, and Lieutenant-Colonel of the Irish
-regiment, and the year after, full Colonel of it.
-
-On receipt of the news, “Mr. Evans begged his friend, John Sweetman, to
-come to the house to prepare his daughter by degrees to learn the joyful
-news, lest a sudden communication of it might be injurious to her....
-That evening at tea, Mr. Sweetman, as usual, was asked the news of the
-day, Miss Evans lying on the sofa, and listening to the conversation. He
-said that it was reported in some of the newspapers that officers
-believed to have been killed at Flushing had escaped to Antwerp, their
-names not being given. On the following day he was more explicit, and
-then the conversation was turned to some other topic. The next evening
-Sweetman came to tell them that a Lieutenant O’Reilly, of the Irish
-regiment, was one of those who had arrived at Antwerp. ‘Then,’ said Miss
-Evans, ‘perhaps Mr. Lawless is not dead.’ The whole family expressed
-their opinion that as he and Lieutenant O’Reilly were great friends,
-they probably escaped together.”
-
-The rest of the charming story is soon told. The following day Mr.
-Hampden Evans learned from John Sweetman that Commandant Lawless had
-arrived in Paris, but was confined to bed with an attack of Flushing
-fever. Mr. Evans lost no time in calling on him, and making him
-acquainted with his daughter’s sentiments. Matters were soon arranged
-for a speedy marriage, “and then Miss Evans was allowed to read all the
-newspapers containing the orders of the day of the army at Antwerp,
-giving an account of Commandant Lawless’s arrival there, with the
-colours and eagle of the Irish regiment; of his brilliant conduct during
-the siege of Flushing, his miraculous escape from thence, etc., etc.”
-
-In those days among the Irish in France it was difficult to think of
-Lawless without thinking of his bosom friend, John Tennant. These two
-were true brothers-in-arms. “They were named captains the same day in
-1803 at the organisation of the Irish Legion. In 1813, at Sonenberg, in
-Silesia, when Lawless was colonel, commanding the Irish regiment,
-Tennant was _chef de bataillon_. On August the 19th, 1813, Tennant was
-killed in our hollow square, literally cut in two by a cannon ball, and
-on August 21st, the second day after, Colonel Lawless, at the passage of
-the Bober, at the town of Sonenberg, and in the presence of Napoleon,
-had his leg shot off by a cannon ball. “It was my painful and melancholy
-duty,” writes Miles Byrne, “to get the grenadiers to dig a grave for
-poor Tennant, after we had retaken our position and beaten the enemy off
-the field of battle.... Whilst the men were preparing the grave, Colonel
-Lawless never ceased weeping, and indeed both the officers and men who
-were present were much affected, and shed tears of sorrow over poor
-Tennant’s grave.”
-
-Poor Tennant’s romance had been of a less happy character than his
-friend’s. In the early days of the _United Irishmen_ he had become
-devotedly attached to the beautiful Miss Hazlett, the story of whose
-early death has been already narrated in the chapter on the Sisters of
-’Ninety-Eight. Writing of her thirty years after, Charles Teeling feels
-the tears starting to his eyes at the memory of the “youth, innocence,
-beauty” consigned thus untimely to the tomb.... Never shall I forget the
-impression which this mournful event [_i.e._ the death of Miss Hazlett]
-caused in the circle of our little commonwealth. The lovely subject of
-our distress had been endeared to us all, not less by the sweetness of
-her disposition than the fascinating powers of a cultivated mind. Her
-brother’s happiness was the object of her most anxious concern, but the
-benevolent feelings of her heart extended to every soul in distress.”
-
-Charles Teeling, with a delicate reticence which is characteristic, has
-merely hinted at his own romance, and said nothing of his brother’s. The
-object of Charles’s devotion was Miss Catherine Carolan, daughter of Dr.
-James Carolan, of Carrickmacross. The glimpses we get of the Carolans
-are interesting, and make us long to know more of them. The celebrated
-harper, Arthur O’Neill, tells us of a visit he paid to Dr. Carolan’s
-hospitable house in Carrickmacross, when he was on his bardic rounds;
-and Mr. Denis Carolan Rushe, the doctor’s descendant, has in his
-possession a copy of a religious rule of life, drawn up for her own
-observance by another daughter of the Doctor’s, a sister of Catherine’s.
-These two facts indicate a household where all the best characteristics
-of true Irish Catholic gentlefolk—their hospitality, their love for, and
-generous patronage of art, their deep sense of religion—were carefully
-cultivated.
-
-Of Bartle Teeling’s devotion to Lady Lucy Fitzgerald, and of the ring
-she gave him, we have already spoken elsewhere.
-
-Mary Anne McCracken’s unreturned love for Thomas Russell is among the
-most pathetic romances of ’Ninety-Eight. He may have loved another
-better; but it is her name we join with his, when we stand in
-Downpatrick, beside the tomb she made for him; and perhaps it is because
-her love has written itself in them that the words she has chosen for
-the inscription move us so strangely, in their austere simplicity:
-
- “The Grave of Russell.”
-
-
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-
-
-
- SOME OBSCURE HEROINES OF ’NINETY-EIGHT
-
-
-
-
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-
-
-
-
- Some Obscure Heroines of ’Ninety-Eight
-
- “All Ulster over, the weemen cried
- For the stanin’ crops in the lan’.
- Many a sweetheart an’ many a bride
- Wud liefer ha’ gone till where _he_ died,
- An’ murned her lone by her man.”—FLORENCE WILSON.
-
-
-AFTER the defeat of the insurgent army at Antrim, the yeomen were let
-loose in the country, and the most terrible outrages committed. Cannon
-were trained on the houses situated in what is known as “the Scotch
-quarter,” in Antrim town, and a shot having struck one of them, the
-inmates of the neighbouring house, a man called Quin, and his lovely
-sixteen-year-old daughter, made their escape from their home, and
-crossing the garden, made towards Belmount. They were pursued by the
-yeomen, shot dead, and buried where they fell. So shallow was the grave
-made for them that for several days after, the long beautiful hair of
-the girl, which was only partially covered, was seen waving in the wind.
-
-The gentleman who related this incident to Dr. Madden noted that it
-excited more sympathy among the poor people than many horrid barbarities
-of the time. I think we can understand why it should be so. Even, at
-this distance of time, one cannot think of the long golden hair of the
-murdered girl, tossing in the wind above her shallow grave, without
-being gripped by the sense of pity and tragedy in a most poignant
-way—and feeling that here we have found the very heart of the sorrow of
-’Ninety-Eight.
-
-In the same way, it seems to me, that it is in the story of the more
-obscure heroines that sentiment is most inherent. The stories of the
-other women with which we have dealt have left us, after all, with an
-overwhelming feeling of “the glorious pride” of ’Ninety-Eight. But for
-the “sorrow” which also fills its name, we must go to the “short and
-simple annals of the poor.”
-
-Very pitiful is the story, told by Cloney, of the fate of a woman called
-Fitzpatrick and her husband in Kilcomney. Like the other defenceless
-inhabitants of Kilcomney, a hundred and forty of whom were murdered that
-day by the yeomanry under Sir Charles Asgill, their sole “offence” was
-that the insurgent army had passed through their district on its retreat
-from Scollagh Gap. When the butchering “yeos” entered the cabin of
-Patrick Fitzpatrick, the poor wife, with her baby in her arms, ran to
-her husband’s side, and while she was endeavouring to protect him, a
-volley was poured into them, and they fell dead at the same moment. “The
-cabin was then set fire to as a matter of course over the heads of the
-children of this unfortunate couple—six in number; and five of them,
-‘poor innocent creatures,’ ran into the house of a neighbour, who had
-escaped the massacre, one of them crying out, ‘My daddy is killed—my
-mammy is killed—and the pigs are drinking their blood.’ A poor woman of
-the name of Kealy, an aunt of theirs, took the children home, and when
-her scanty means were exhausted for their support, she became a beggar
-to get them bread; the neighbours helped her, they gave her assistance,
-and God, in His mercy to her, enabled her to bring them up.” “There may
-be no space,” writes Madden with that quick sentiment of his for heroic
-deeds which gives to his work an atmosphere so inspiring, “in the
-records of the noble deeds of women for the goodness of this poor
-creature; but her conduct will not be forgotten, at all events, on that
-day when virtue is destined to receive its own exceeding great
-reward—the awful recompense of all its sufferings and sacrifices here
-below, and when the man of blood will find no act of indemnity available
-for his sanguinary and inhuman deeds.”
-
-On June the 3rd, 1798, occurred the massacre of Gibbet Rath—“the place
-of slaughter”—on the Curragh of Kildare. There the insurgents, who had
-entered into terms with General Dundas, assembled, according to
-stipulation, to lay down their arms and receive the “protections” which
-were to enable them to return to their homes without further
-molestation. Suddenly on their unarmed ranks fell Sir James Duff with
-his cavalry, and Lord Roden’s “Fox-Hunters,” and the slaughter began.
-“Three hundred and fifty men, admitted into the king’s peace, and
-promised his protection, were mowed down in cold blood.”
-
-Let us turn our eyes for a moment from that bloody “Place of Slaughter,”
-where the gory corpses of their men lay all through that bright June
-day, to the cabins where the women vainly awaited them through its
-slowly passing hours. To help us to realise the scenes that must have
-taken place in many of them, we have the story, related by Fitzpatrick,
-of Mrs. Denis Downey, the grandmother of Canon O’Hanlon, the
-distinguished hagiologist.
-
-She was a young wife, with two little children, when the “word” came
-which called her husband to the fight. As their home in Grey Abbey near
-Kildare was attacked by the soldiers, she and her babies took refuge at
-her parents’ house near the River Barrow. The day before that fixed for
-the surrender of the insurgents, it was said that Lord Roden’s
-“Fencibles” (or “Fox-Hunters”) paraded the streets of Kildare, mad with
-drink, and carrying articles of apparel on the end of their bayonets,
-shouted “we are the boys who will slaughter the croppies to-morrow at
-the Curragh.” On this account a great many of the insurgents wisely
-stayed away. Unfortunately Denis Downey was not one of them. Mounted on
-a fine horse he presented himself with his comrades. When the massacre
-began he leaped on his horse, and in all probability would have made
-good his escape, had he not stopped to take up a relative. A bullet
-found him, and he fell dead from the saddle. His riderless horse, which
-had been stabled at his father-in-law’s place, galloped thither, mad
-with terror.
-
-That night his wife, who had felt all day the most harrowing
-presentiment of impending woe, had a dream of her husband lying
-weltering in his blood. Her wild cries roused the household, and her
-father, finding his efforts at comfort unavailing, finally determined to
-go out and seek for news. At the end of the lane leading from his house
-to the highway he met his son-in-law’s riderless horse, saddled and
-bridled and covered with foam—and the early June dawn discovered groups
-of country people passing along the highway with faces and gestures and
-voices, all eloquent of some dreadful tragedy. “What news from the
-Curragh?” he asked a group which passed. “Bad news, bad news,” came the
-answer like some tragic chorus, “our friends were all slaughtered on the
-Curragh, to-day.”
-
-When her father came home with his tidings, Mrs. Downey insisted on
-getting out one of the carts, and proceeding to the place of the
-slaughter to search for her husband’s body—for she was quite convinced
-that her dream was true, and she would find him among the slain. She
-came at last to the bloody plain, and found it littered with corpses.
-She turned over two hundred dead bodies before she discovered her
-husband’s. She laid him in the cart, covered him with straw and a quilt,
-and proceeded to the house of a relative to wake him. But the word had
-gone round that wherever a rebel corpse should be found the house
-sheltering it would be burned by the “yeos.” Without waiting even for a
-coffin, the broken-hearted young widow had to wrap her man in a sheet,
-and so see him laid in the hastily made grave. When quieter days came
-and she was able to return to the home he had made for her, she found it
-a wreck. She sold her farm and went to live in Monasterevan.
-
-Her story presents to our imagination the tragedy of the “Widows of the
-Massacres” in concrete form. But it is the story of only one woman.
-Think of it as multiplied by the number of all the women who were left
-desolate on that day—and estimate the sum of woman’s misery caused by
-that one day alone—if our hearts dare!
-
-Think of the women left desolate by the wholesale massacre of Carnew, of
-Gorey, of New Ross, of Enniscorthy, of Carrigrew, of Killoughrim
-Woods—and estimate these contributions to the sum of woman’s misery—if
-our hearts dare!
-
- * * * * *
-
-To renew our courage, it is time to tell a tale with a happier ending,
-though it, too, has to do with one of the most horrible massacres which
-disgraced the period—the Massacre of Dunlavin.
-
-One day, Captain Saunders of Saunders’ Grove, reviewing his yeomanry,
-suddenly announced that he knew those who were United Irishmen among
-them, and ordered them to fall out. About thirty-six of them did; but
-the others, imitating the example of one Pat Doyle (who had had word of
-what was forward from the Captain’s brother) stayed in their places. The
-thirty-six who had “given themselves away,” were locked up in the
-market-house of Dunlavin, and on the Fair Day of Dunlavin, they were
-marched out to a hollow near the Catholic Church, while a number of
-Ancient Britons were posted on a height at some little distance. The
-word was given; the Ancient Britons fired—and the men fell in their
-blood, amid the shrieks and groans of the bystanders, among whom were
-their widows and relatives.
-
-Among the victims was a man named Prendergast. In his case the ball made
-two orifices, but he had sufficient presence of mind before he lost
-consciousness, to detach his cravat and stop the blood of one orifice
-with it, while his clenched hand acted as a styptic for the other. A
-brave girl happened to see the motion, and she found an opportunity to
-staunch the wounds with her shawl, while she went off to Prendergast’s
-house, whence she presently returned with his brother, leading a horse
-and cart. They put the wounded man into the cart, covered him with
-bloody straw and carried him back to his widowed mother’s home. News
-reached Saunders that “some of the croppies were getting alive again,”
-so he sent back the Ancient Britons to finish their work, and hack and
-gash any of the bodies which might possibly harbour a spark of life. He
-then proceeded to Prendergast’s house, and genially addressed the widow.
-“Well, widow, I hear that that croppy scoundrel of a son of yours is
-living still.” “Yes, your honour,” said the poor woman, “the Lord has
-been pleased to grant the poor boy a longer day.” “Come on now,” said
-his Honour, forcing his way into the house, “I will put him out of pain;
-he can’t possibly recover, and your time can’t be taken up by attending
-on him.” The poor mother found strength to hold the great brute back,
-while the wounded man was conveyed out of the house by some of the
-neighbours. An angry crowd gathered round the Captain, and he thought it
-better to get away. At nightfall Michael Dwyer came down from the hills
-and carried off young Prendergast to his eyrie. And here during many
-months the wounded boy was nursed by Michael Dwyer and his “Mountain
-Mary”—and he lived to marry the brave girl who had saved his life.
-
-And this, did space permit, would be the appropriate place to tell the
-story of one of the bravest women of ’Ninety-Eight—Mrs. Michael Dwyer
-(we have already met her name in connection with Anne Devlin, her
-husband’s niece). She was a beautiful Wicklow girl, the daughter of a
-“strong” farmer named Doyle; but she left all the comforts of her
-father’s well-stocked farm to share the outlaw’s “wild and uncertain
-life in hill and vale, in mountain cave and fastness.” The story of her
-romantic marriage is the subject of a well-known and very stirring
-ballad which tells how:—
-
- As the torrent bounds down from the mountain
- Of cloud-helméd stormy Kaigeen
- And tosses, all tawny and foaming,
- Through the still glen of lone Carragean;
- So dashed a bold rider of Wicklow,
- With forty stout men in his train,
- From the heart of the hills, where the spirit
- Of Freedom had dared to remain.
-
- Thou leader of horsemen! Why hasten
- So fleetly to Brusselstown hill?
- What foemen, what yeomen await thee
- To question in Wicklow thy will?
-
-But though armed to the teeth, the grey-friezed horsemen were on no
-business of blood to-day:
-
- Their leader he loves a young maiden
- And he’s speeding to make her his bride.
-
-They come to the home of the bride, and presently
-
- Mary came out in her beauty
- The loveliest maid in Imale;
- The loveliest flower that blossomed
- In all the wild haunts of the vale.
- Arrayed in an emerald habit
- And the green and the white in her hair.
-
- * * * * *
-
- They led out a horse on the heather;
- She patted his neck with her hand,
- Then sprang on his back like a feather,
- And stood in the midst of the band.
-
-Then to the priest’s house for the wedding—
-
- Away dashed the cavalcade fleetly,
- By beauty and chivalry led,
- With their carbines aflash in the sunlight
- And the saucy cockades on their head!
-
-No braver tale could be told of any woman than the story of Mary Dwyer
-during the years that followed. She stood by her husband, ready to
-endure to the end in the struggles of ’98 and ’03; she shared the
-horrors of the prison ship that bore him into exile. She stood by his
-deathbed in 1805, and lived on, herself, to rear his children in a
-manner such that their father and their native land might be proud of
-them—though, alas! it was not Ireland that was to enjoy the finished
-work. When she died in 1861, the touching obituary notice of her in the
-Sydney _Freeman’s Journal_ could say of her with truth: “All her wishes
-in life were accomplished before her eyes closed in death. When she
-lived to see her two grandchildren sheltered under the guardianship of
-Mother Church—one a holy young priest, the other a dweller in the
-peaceful shadow of the cloister, she sang her hymn of resignation, ‘Now
-Thou dost dismiss Thy servant, O Lord.’”
-
-Another brave woman whose _Nunc Dimittis_ was sung in a foreign land was
-Mrs. Gallagher. Her husband was a confidential clerk of James Moore’s,
-and he often acted as one of Lord Edward’s bodyguard when the Chief went
-abroad for any purpose during the weeks he was “on his keeping.” On the
-night on which Lord Edward was going to Magan’s and was met by Major
-Sirr, Gallagher was wounded in the encounter, which ensued with the
-Major’s men. He was afterwards identified through this wound, and
-ordered for execution. He managed, it is said, to save his life at the
-foot of the scaffold by his possession of the Masonic signal. He was
-then taken back to prison. During all this time the executions were
-proceeding in Thomas Street, and the blood from the block on which “the
-rebels” were beheaded and quartered flowed in such quantities that it
-clogged the sewers, and was licked up by the dogs. The Lady Lieutenant,
-passing one day, fainted at the horrible sight; and at her urgent
-entreaties the executions were stopped. Transportation to one of the
-Penal Colonies was substituted for the death-sentence. Gallagher was
-conveyed from his prison to one of the convict ships, heavily ironed.
-But by a special grace the irons were taken off him while he bade
-farewell to his wife, who had made her way on board to see him for the
-last time. She stayed on until nightfall, and before she took her
-departure she managed to convey to her husband one end of a coil of rope
-she had concealed under her cloak. The other end she carried ashore with
-her, as she rowed back. After her departure Gallagher was about to be
-ironed again, but he pleaded so eloquently for “one minute more” that it
-was granted him. That minute was sufficient for him to leap into the
-dark waters—and be towed ashore by his faithful wife. He subsequently
-made his escape to France in a lugger of smuggled salt—and died, in
-1813, a wealthy ship-broker of Bordeaux.
-
-Miles Byrne knew the Gallaghers very well. He tells us of meeting Mrs.
-Gallagher, who was then on a visit with Mrs. Thomas Addis Emmet, when he
-called to take leave of the latter before joining his regiment in 1803.
-Mrs. Gallagher he found “handsome and highly accomplished, and worthy of
-her patriotic husband. I had the pleasure of dining with them at
-Bordeaux, in 1812, when I was returning from Spain; and I was happy
-indeed to see them so prosperous; he was in the shipbroking trade, and
-he was carrying on a vast business with the Americans. Their children
-were growing up very handsome. Poor Gallagher’s health was then
-delicate. He died at Bordeaux the following year, much regretted by his
-countrymen and friends. To his last moment, he spoke of Lord Edward
-Fitzgerald with the greatest veneration.”
-
-No story of the Women of ’Ninety-Eight would be complete without some
-mention, at least, of Rosie Hope, the heroic wife of James Hope. But in
-truth her life deserves a fuller account than the plan of this work now
-allows for her.
-
-It was while he worked in her father’s house as a journeyman linen
-weaver that James Hope first met and loved Rosie Mullen. He himself has
-described her for us both in prose (“a young woman gifted with noble
-qualities, with every advantage of mind and person, she was everything
-in this world to me, and when I lost her, my happiness went to the grave
-with her. She died in 1831”); and in very tender and dainty verse, with
-a pretty play of words on her name:—
-
-
- THE ROSE-BUD
-
- In life’s sprightly morning, how pleasant the hours,
- When roaming the fields, and surveying the flowers,
- I picked up a rose-bud, select from the rest,
- And divested of thorns, it remained in my breast.
- Its fragrance refreshed me, inspiring with love,
- Till that fragrance was drawn to the regions above.
- And now every wish of my heart’s to repose,
- In that region of love with my own little rose.
-
-In the _Shan Van Vocht_ of March, 1896, _à propos_ of a letter of James
-Hope’s therein first published, we find an interesting editorial note:
-“James Hope brought his wife and younger children up from Belfast to
-Dublin as soon as he undertook the work of organising under Emmet, this
-not without a reason. Rose Hope was a valuable and courageous ally in
-her patriot husband’s work, and before the northern rising had helped to
-provide the United Men with arms and ammunition, carrying them backwards
-and forwards through the country as she went a marketing. The same good
-work she daringly undertook in Dublin, and had some narrow escapes as
-she threaded her way through the streets with the arms carefully hidden
-under her cloak along with her baby. This younger child was called
-Robert Emmet, after the patriot.” Another child was called after Henry
-Joy McCracken, and another Luke, after Mr. Luke Teeling. For Jamie Hope
-was much attached to the McCrackens and the Teelings, for both of which
-families he had worked.
-
-Some of Rosie’s adventures are related by her husband. They occurred
-during Jamie’s absence in the North with Russell when they were trying
-to get Ulster to rise in support of Emmet:
-
-“In 1803, a short time after Henry Howley’s arrest, and the death of
-Hanlon, who was shot by him, while the soldiers were bringing Hanlon’s
-body on a door, through a street in the Liberty, my wife was passing,
-with her youngest child in her arms, having under her cloak, a
-blunderbuss and a case of pistols, which she was taking to the house of
-Denis Lambert Redmond, who suffered afterwards. She stepped into a shop,
-and when the crowd had passed, she went on, and executed her orders. On
-another occasion, she was sent to a house in the Liberty, where a
-quantity of ball-cartridges had been lodged, to carry them away, to
-prevent ruin being brought on the house and its inhabitants. She went to
-the house, put them in a pillow-case, and emptied the contents into the
-canal, at that part of it which supplies the basin.”
-
-“At the death of Pitt, the system underwent a change. The Castle spies
-were discharged, and the State prisoners set at liberty. My wife sent in
-a memorial to the Duke of Bedford, in her own name, acknowledging that I
-had fought on the side of the people, and had been driven like
-thousands, unwillingly to do so.” As a consequence, Hope and his family
-were allowed to return to the North.
-
-Rosie Hope had been lying for more than fifteen years in her last bed in
-Mallusk graveyard when Dr. Madden first met Jamie Hope in the flesh. And
-yet he noted that when Hope spoke of his wife it seemed “as if he felt
-her spirit was hovering over him, and that it was not permitted to him
-to give expression to the praise which rises to his lips when her name
-is mentioned. There is something of refinement—rare as it is pleasing to
-contemplate, in the nature of his attachment—in the ties which bound him
-to that amiable, exemplary, and enthusiastic creature; for such she is
-represented to have been by those who knew her, amongst whom was Miss
-McCracken, of Belfast.”
-
-The name of Rosie Hope reminds us of her friend, Miss Biddy Palmer, who
-with Rosie and Anne Devlin, were associated in what we of to-day should
-call _Cumann na mBan_ work in the Rising of 1803. Madden says of her:
-“Miss Biddy Palmer, daughter of old John Palmer of Cutpurse Row, was a
-confidential agent both of Emmet and Russell. She was a sister of young
-Palmer who took a prominent part in the affairs of 1798. Biddy Palmer
-was a sort of Irish Madame Roland; she went about when it was dangerous
-for others to be seen abroad, conveying messages from Emmet, Long,
-Hevey, Russell, and Fitzgerald to different parties.”
-
-One half suspects, from the way Miles Byrne speaks of Miss Palmer, that
-he was in love with her. Having mentioned Emmet’s “implicit confidence”
-in her, he adds, “and indeed no one was ever more worthy of such trust
-than this young lady, who had suffered severely in 1798 by her father’s
-imprisonment and the ruin of his affairs, her brother’s exile and death
-on the Continent. Still she bore up under all her misfortunes like a
-heroine of the olden times, and was a comfort and a consolation to her
-family and friends.” On the eve of Miles Byrne’s romantic escape to
-France he called to take farewell of Miss Palmer and her father, and she
-gave him a present of some French money for his _viaticum_.
-
-Poor Biddy Palmer had a sad old age. Dr. Madden discovered her (she was
-then a Mrs. Horan) “in very reduced circumstances, far advanced in
-years, in the neighbourhood of Finsbury Square, London, earning a
-miserable livelihood by keeping a little school for the female children
-of the poor, in a neighbourhood where indigence and want abounds.”
-
-For some reason (perhaps it was in part the long life and faithful heart
-of Mary McCracken and the influence she radiated around her) the North
-has kept a richer record of the sufferings and heroism of its obscurer
-women in ’98 and ’03, than other parts of the country. Some very
-precious _reliques_ have been gathered up in the pages of the _Shan Van
-Vocht_, and make of them a most valuable repository of patriotic
-memories.
-
-One of these tells of a sister, whose brother, with another lad, had
-undertaken the dangerous office of posting up Robert Emmet’s
-proclamation around Carnmoney, a few miles to the north of Belfast. For
-this they were subsequently hanged, drawn and quartered on the Gallow’s
-Green at Carrickfergus. At dead of night the sister, who had walked all
-the way from Carnmoney, was led by pitying friends to the spot where the
-poor mangled bodies lay. “She knelt down and with stifled sobs and much
-difficulty removed the clay that had been hastily piled above them. Her
-hand first came upon a head which by the feel of the features she
-thought was that of her brother. She wrapped it in her apron and carried
-it back to her home, so absorbed in her grief that she felt not the
-miles her speeding feet covered. When she arrived home, she discovered
-that the head she had borne on that sorrowful journey was not her
-brother’s, but that of the other poor lad. She retraced her steps,
-running between the hedgerows in her anxiety to reach the Gallow’s Green
-before the people should be afoot, stumbling on the uneven stones, and
-praying with all her tortured heart that her strength might last until
-her purpose should be accomplished.... She arrived at the grave,
-reverentially deposited the head back in its place, and taking up the
-one she had come to seek departed again for Carnmoney.”
-
-It is to Mary McCracken that we owe our knowledge of the story of young
-Willie Neilson, of Ballycarry, and his poor mother. Willie, who was only
-fifteen years of age, had on the eve of the Antrim Rising formed one of
-a party which made a prisoner of a Carrickfergus pensioner called
-Cuthbert, and conveyed him to the Insurgent’s place of muster at
-Donegore Hill. For this he was arrested, court-martialled and sent to
-prison, where his two elder brothers were already lodged. But on account
-of his extreme youth neither he nor his friends anticipated any danger
-to his life.
-
-At midnight he was taken from prison, and offered his freedom on
-condition that he should give information against the leaders at Antrim.
-He refused; and no amount of pressure could make him yield one inch.
-They told him he must die; his only request was that he might see his
-minister, and be allowed to say farewell to his brother, Sam. Sam
-Neilson expected to share Willie’s fate, but that fact did not prevent
-him from encouraging Willie to die rather than “inform.” Soon after
-daybreak the boy was taken to his native village of Ballycarry, there to
-die. On the way he met his poor mother, who had set out to visit the
-prison. When she saw him in the midst of the soldiery, she rushed
-towards him, and while the soldiers tried to separate them he caught her
-hand, and exclaimed “Oh! my mother!” But they dragged him from her arms.
-She threw herself at her landlord’s feet, as he rode past, in the midst
-of the cavalry, begging him to intercede for her boy. His only answer
-was, “Get out of my way, or I’ll ride over you.” They brought Willie to
-his mother’s door to execute him there. But, brutes as they were, they
-saw this would be too iniquitous, and they yielded to the boy’s prayer
-and took him away to the end of the village. Even then the undaunted boy
-had leisure of heart to think of his dear ones. He begged that the
-sacrifice of his life might expiate the offences of his brothers, and
-that his body should be given to his mother. The soldiers tried to make
-him use the bandage for his eyes. But he refused with the proud word
-“that he had done nothing to make him screen his face.” Then, looking as
-his mother always remembered him afterwards, “very handsome and fair and
-blooming, with his light hair tossing in the wind, and the open
-shirt-neck, emphasising the youth of him,” Willie Neilson went forth to
-his death—for Ireland.
-
- * * * * *
-
-Even in the most tragic moments of our history, a certain sense of
-humour has never deserted us Irish. It has helped, perhaps, to keep us
-sane in the midst of our woes; and it has certainly saved us from the
-deplorable sentimentality, which we find so trying in our Teutonic
-neighbours (including the Anglo-Saxon) and the emphatic bombast which
-tinges with insincerity our Latin cousins. We may be sure there was many
-a ludicrous incident in ’98, as in ’16—and the men and women of ’98 had
-the same faculty as their descendants of to-day of seeing the humour of
-the situation. Some of the jokes of ’98 are current to-day—and since
-laughter is as characteristic of life as weeping, I will end my book
-with one of them. It comes from the village of Ballyclare, and was first
-told in print in the _Shan Van Vocht_.
-
-On the morning of the fight in Antrim the wife of Billy Morrison rose
-early and spread the table with the best in the house for her man’s
-breakfast. There were fine home-cured bacon, and eggs, and tea, and
-potato cake and oaten bread. When Billy had done justice to these good
-things, and had his wife’s assurance that his pockets were full of more
-of them, for the day’s provisions, he grasped his pike, and rose to go.
-Then did his _guid wife_, “in lieu of sentimental, or patriotic, or
-pious admonition,” thus address him in valediction:
-
-“Ye hae got as guid a brekfust as ony mon in Ballyclare; sae kill
-naebody till they kill you, and then doe for yerself, Billy Morrison.”
-
-One fancies that Billy Morrison gave a good account of himself that day
-in Antrim town, and did credit, with his strong pike arm, to his wife’s
-good feeding. And so it has not seemed unfitting to evoke, from the
-past, her homely sturdy form, and set her even by the side of the tragic
-figure of Willie Neilson’s widowed mother. For from the sturdiness of
-the one, no less than from the heroism of the other, proceeds the
-unconquerable spirit of Ireland.
-
-
- Finis.
-
-
-
-
- _Printed by_ M. H. GILL & SON, LTD., _Dublin_.
-
-
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
-
-
-
-
- ● Transcriber’s Notes:
- ○ Missing or obscured punctuation was silently corrected.
- ○ Typographical errors were silently corrected.
- ○ Inconsistent spelling and hyphenation were made consistent only
- when a predominant form was found in this book.
- ○ Text that:
- was in italics is enclosed by underscores (_italics_);
- was in bold by is enclosed by “equal” signs (=bold=).
-
-
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