
Personal Sketches of His Own Times, Vol. 1 (of 3)
The Duke of Leinster, doubtless with the best possible motives, but with a view of the subject differing from my own, suggested that Ireland should do honour to her patriot son, by erecting a cenotaph to his memory. This, I must confess, appears to me (I speak of it merely as matter of opinion) to be nothing more than cold-blooded mockery – a compliment diminutive and empty. Toward such a monument I would not subscribe one farthing: – but if the revered ashes of my friend could be restored to his country, there is no Irishman who (in proportion to his means) would go beyond myself in contributing to raise a monumental column which should outvie the pillars dedicated in Dublin to the glorious butcheries of Trafalgar and Waterloo: while these are proudly commemorated, no national pile records the more truly glorious triumphs of 1782 – nor the formation of that irresistible army of volunteers which (in a right cause) defied all the power of England! But my voice shall not be silent: and deeply do I regret the untoward fate by which this just tribute to national and individual virtues has devolved upon the feeble powers of an almost superannuated writer.
Ireland gave me birth and bread; and though I am disgusted with its present state, I love the country still. I have endeavoured to give (in a more important work) some sketches of its modern history at the most prosperous epochas, with gloomy anecdotes of its fall as an independent kingdom; and if God grants me a little longer space, I shall publish my honest ideas of the ruin to which the British Empire will not long remain blind, if she continue to pursue the same system (which seven hundred years have proved to be a destructive one) in that misgoverned country.
Extract of a letter from Sir Jonah Barrington to the present Henry Grattan, Esq., M.P.: —
“My dear Grattan,
“I regret your not receiving my letter, in reply to yours, written immediately after the lamented departure of my honoured friend. In that letter I proposed forthwith to publish the sequel of my character of Mr. Grattan, accompanied with his portrait and some additional observations. I had composed the sequel, much to my own satisfaction, as the continuation of his character promised in the number of my historical work where I say ‘his career is not yet finished.’
“Your last letter did not reach me for five months, and having received no reply to mine, I threw the manuscript into the fire, keeping no copy; it was scarcely consumed, however, before I repented the having done so.
“But now permit an old and sensitive friend to expostulate a little with you, in the simple garb of queries: —
“Why, and for what good reason, – with what policy, or on what feeling, are the bones of the most illustrious of Irishmen suffered to moulder in the same ground with his country’s enemies?
“Why suffer him to be escorted to the grave by the mock pageantry of those whose political vices and corruptions ravished from Ireland every thing which his talent and integrity had obtained for her?
“Why send his countrymen on a foreign pilgrimage, to worship the shrine of their canonised benefactor? Were not the cathedrals of Ireland worthy to be honoured by his urn, – or the youths of Erin to be animated by knowing that they possessed his ashes? Can it be gratifying to the feelings of his countrymen to pay the sexton of a British abbey a mercenary shilling for permission even to see the grave-stone of your parent?62
“You were deceived by the blandishments of our mortal enemy: he knew that political idolatry has great power, and excites great influence in nations. The shrine of a patriot has often proved to be the standard of liberty; and it was therefore good policy in a British statesman to suppress our excitements: – the mausoleum of Rousseau is raised in France – the tradition of Grattan only will remain to his compatriots.
“He lived the life – he died the death – but he does not sleep in the tomb of an Irish patriot! England has taken away our constitution, and even the relics of its founder are retained through the duplicity of his enemy.
“You have now my sentiments on the matter, and by frankly expressing them, I have done my duty to you, to myself, and to my country.
“Your ever affectionate and sincere friend,
“Jonah Barrington.”HIGH LIFE IN NEWGATE
Lord Aldborough quizzes the Lord Chancellor – Voted a libeller by the House of Peers – His spirited conduct – Sentenced to imprisonment in Newgate by the Court of King’s Bench – Memoirs of Mr. Knaresborough – His extraordinary trial – Sentenced to death, but transported – Escapes from Botany Bay, returns to England, and is committed to Newgate, where he seduces Lady Aldborough’s attendant – Prizes in the lottery – Miss Barton dies in misery.
Lord Aldborough was an arrogant and ostentatious man; but these failings were nearly redeemed by his firmness and gallantry in his memorable collision with Lord Chancellor Clare.
Lord Aldborough, who had built a most tasteful and handsome house immediately at the northern extremity of Dublin, had an equity suit with Mr. Beresford, a nephew of Lord Clare, as to certain lots of ground close to his lordship’s new and magnificent mansion, which, among other conveniences, had a chapel on one wing and a theatre on the other, stretching away from the centre in a chaste style of ornamental architecture.
The cause was in Chancery, and was not protracted very long. Lord Aldborough was defeated, with full costs: his pride, his purse, and his mansion, must all suffer; and meddling with either of these was sufficient to rouse his lordship’s spleen. He appealed, therefore, to the House of Peers, where, in due season, the cause came on for hearing, and where the chancellor himself presided. The lay lords did not much care to interfere in the matter; and, without loss of time, Lord Clare of the House of Peers confirmed the decree of Lord Clare of the Court of Chancery, with full costs against the appellant.
Lord Aldborough had now no redress but to write at the lord chancellor; and without delay he fell to composing a book against Lord Clare and the system of appellant jurisdiction, stating that it was totally an abuse of justice to be obliged to appeal to a prejudiced man against his own prejudices, – and particularly so in the present instance, Lord Clare being notorious as an unforgiving chancellor to those who vexed him: few lords attending to hear the cause, and such as did not being much wiser for the hearing: – it being the province of counsel to puzzle not to inform noblemen, he had no chance.
Lord Aldborough, in his book, humorously enough stated an occurrence that had happened to himself when travelling in Holland. His lordship was going to Amsterdam on one of the canals in a trekschuit – the captain or skipper of which, being a great rogue, extorted from his lordship for his passage much more than he had a lawful right to claim. My lord expostulated with the skipper in vain: the fellow grew rude; his lordship persisted; the skipper got more abusive. At length Lord Aldborough told him he would, on landing, immediately go to the proper tribunals and get redress from the judge. The skipper cursed him as an impudent milord, and desired him to do his worst, snapping his tarry finger-posts in his lordship’s face. Lord Aldborough paid the demand, and, on landing, went to the legal officer to know when the court of justice would sit. He was answered, at nine next morning. Having no doubt of ample redress, he did not choose to put the skipper on his guard by mentioning his intentions. Next morning he went to court, and began to tell his story to the judge, who sat with his broad-brimmed hat on, in great state, to hear causes of that nature. His lordship fancied he had seen the man before; nor was he long in doubt! for ere he had half finished, the judge, in a voice like thunder, (but which his lordship immediately recognised, for it was that of the identical skipper!) decided against him with full costs, and ordered him out of court. His lordship, however, said he would appeal, and away he went to an advocate for that purpose. He did accordingly appeal, and the next day his appeal cause came regularly on. But all his lordship’s stoicism forsook him, when he again perceived that the very same skipper and judge was to decide the appeal who had decided the cause; so that the learned skipper first cheated, and then sent him about his business, with three sets of costs to console him.
The noble writer having in his book made a very improper and derogatory application of this Dutch precedent to Lord Chancellor Clare and the Irish appellant jurisdiction, was considered by his brother peers as having committed a gross breach of their privileges, and was thereupon ordered to attend in his place, and defend himself (if any defence he had) from the charge made against him by the lord chancellor and the peers of Ireland. Of course the House of Lords was thronged to excess to hear his lordship’s vindication. I went an hour before it met, to secure a place behind the throne, where the commoners were allowed to crowd up as well as they could.
The chancellor, holding the vicious book in his hand, asked Lord Aldborough if he admitted that it was of his writing and publication? To which his lordship replied, – that he could admit nothing as written or published by him, till every word of it should be first truly read to their lordships aloud in the House. Lord Clare, wishing to curtail some parts, began to read it himself; but being rather short, and not quite near enough to the light, his opponent took a pair of enormous candlesticks from the table, walked deliberately up to the throne, and requested the chancellor’s permission to hold the candles for him whilst he was reading the book! This novel sort of effrontery put the chancellor completely off his guard: he was outdone, and permitted Lord Aldborough to hold the lights, whilst he read aloud the libel comparing himself to a Dutch skipper: nor did the obsequious author omit to set him right here and there when he omitted a word or proper emphasis. It was ludicrous beyond example, and gratifying to the secret ill-wishers of Lord Clare, who bore no small proportion to the aggregate numbers of the House. The libel being duly read through, Lord Aldborough at once spiritedly and adroitly said that he avowed every word of it to their lordships; – but that it was not intended as any libel either against the House or the jurisdiction, but as a constitutional and just rebuke to their lordships for not performing their bounden duty in attending the hearing of the appeal: he being quite certain that if any sensible men had been present, the lord chancellor would only have had two lords and two bishops (of his own creation) on his side of the question.
This was considered as an aggravation of the contempt, though some thought it was not very far from matter-of-fact. – The result was, that after a bold speech, delivered with great earnestness, his lordship was voted guilty of a high breach of privilege toward the Irish House of Peers, and a libel on the lord chancellor, as chairman of the House.
His lordship was afterward ordered to Newgate for six months by the Court of King’s Bench (on an information filed against him by the attorney-general for a libel on Lord Clare); which sentence, he told them, he considered, under the circumstances, as a high compliment and honour. In fact, he never was so pleased as when speaking of the incident, and declaring that he expected to have his book recorded on the Journals of the Lords: – the chancellor himself (by applying his anecdote of the Dutch skipper) having construed it into a regular episode on his own proceedings and those of the peerage.
Lord Aldborough underwent his full sentence in Newgate; and his residence there gave rise to a fresh incident in the memoirs of a very remarkable person, who, at that time, was an inmate of the same walls (originally likewise through the favour of Chancellor Clare), and lodged on the same staircase; and as I had been professionally interested in this man’s affairs, I subjoin the following statement as curious, and in every circumstance, to my personal knowledge, matter-of-fact.
James Fitzpatrick Knaresborough was a young man of tolerable private fortune in the county of Kilkenny. Unlike the common run of young men at that day, he was sober, money-making, and even avaricious, though moderately hospitable; his principal virtue consisting in making no exhibition of his vices. He was of good figure; and, without having the presence of a gentleman, was what is called a handsome young fellow.
Mr. Knaresborough had been accused of a capital crime by a Miss Barton, (natural daughter of William Barton, Esq., a magistrate of the county of Kilkenny,) who stated that she had gone away with him for the purpose, and in the strict confidence, of being married the same day at Leighlin Bridge. – Her father was a gentleman, a magistrate, and of consideration in the county, and a warrant was granted against Knaresborough for the felony; but he contrived to get liberated on bail – the amount being doubled. The grand-jury, however, on the young woman’s testimony, found true bills against him for the capital offence, and he came to Carlow to take his trial at the assizes. He immediately called on me with a brief, – said it was a mere bagatelle, and totally unfounded, – and that his acquittal would be a matter of course. I had been retained against him; but introduced him to the present Judge Moore, to whom he handed his brief. He made so light of the business, that he told me to get up a famous speech against him, as no doubt I was instructed to do: that indeed I could not say too much; as the whole would appear, on her own confession, to be a conspiracy! nay, so confident was he of procuring his acquittal, that he asked Mr. Moore and myself to dine with him on our road to Kilkenny, which we promised.
On reading my brief, I found that, truly, the case was not over-strong against him even there, where, in all probability, circumstances would be exaggerated; and that it rested almost exclusively on the lady’s own evidence: hence, I had little doubt that, upon cross-examination, the prisoner would be acquitted.
The trial proceeded. I was then rather young at the bar, and determined, for my own sake, to make an interesting and affecting speech for my client; – and having no doubt of Knaresborough’s acquittal, I certainly overcharged my statement, and added some facts solely from invention. My surprise, then, may be estimated, when I heard Miss Barton swear positively to every syllable of my emblazonment! I should now have found myself most painfully circumstanced, but that I had no doubt she must be altogether deprived of credit by his counsel; and, in fact, she was quite shaken on her cross-examination. The prisoner’s advocate smiled at her and at us; and said, “the woman’s credit was so clearly overthrown, that there could be no doubt of Knaresborough’s innocence of the charge of violence; and any protracted defence on so clear a subject would be useless.”
The court seemed to acquiesce. I considered all was over, and left the place as the jury retired. In about an hour, however, I received an account that Knaresborough had been found guilty, and sent back to gaol under sentence of death! – I was thunderstruck, and without delay wrote to the chief secretary, in Dublin, begging him instantly to represent to the lord lieutenant the real facts, and that I, as counsel for the prosecution, knew the total falsity of a great part of her evidence: – execution was in consequence respited. So soon as I could return to town, I waited on Major Hobart and the lord lieutenant, stated precisely the particulars I have here given, and my satisfaction (even from my own brief) that the girl was perjured. They referred me to Lord Chancellor Clare, whose answer I wrote down, and never shall forget: “That may be all very true, Barrington! but he is a rascal, and if he does not deserve to be hanged for this, he does for a former affair,63 right well!” I told him it was quite necessary for me to publish the whole matter, in my own justification. He then took from his bureau a small parcel of papers, and requested me to read them: they proved to be copies of affidavits and evidence on a former accusation, (from which Knaresborough had escaped by lenity,) for snapping a pistol at the father of a girl he had seduced. – Lord Clare, however, recommended his sentence to be changed to transportation: but this was to the convict worse than death, and he enclosed to me a petition which he had sent to government, declining the proposed commutation, and insisting on being forthwith executed, pursuant to his first sentence! Notwithstanding, he was, in fine, actually transported. He had contrived to secure in different ways 10,000l., and took a large sum with him to Botany Bay. I had heard no more of him for several years, – when I was astonished one day by being accosted in the streets of Dublin by this identical man, altered only by time and in the colour of his hair, which had turned quite gray. He was well dressed, had a large cockade in his hat, and did not at all court secrecy. He told me that the governor had allowed him to come away privately: that he had gone through many entertaining and some dismal adventures in Africa, and in America – whence he last came; and he added, that as government were then busy raising troops, he had sent in a memorial, proposing to raise a regiment for a distant service, solely at his own expense. “I have,” said he, “saved sufficient money for this purpose, though my brother has got possession of a great part of my fortune.” In fact, he memorialised and teased the government (who were surprised at his temerity, yet unwilling to meddle with him) until at length they had him arrested, and required to show his written authority from the governor of New South Wales for returning from transportation, – which being unable to do, he was committed to Newgate, to await the governor’s reply.
Here his firmness and eccentricity never forsook him; he sent in repeated petitions to the ministry, requesting to be hanged, and told me he would give any gentleman 500l. who had sufficient interest to get him put to death without delay! An unsatisfactory answer arrived from New South Wales: – but the government could not, under the circumstances, execute him for his return; – and liberate him Lord Clare would not: his confinement therefore was, of course, indefinitely continued. During its course he purchased a lottery ticket, which turned out a prize of 2000l.; and soon after, a second brought him 500l. He lived well; but having no society, was determined to provide himself a companion at all events.
At this juncture the Earl of Aldborough became his next-door neighbour. – My lady (the best wife in the world) did not desert her husband; and, as all women of rank entertain what they call a “young person” to attend on them; – that is, (speaking generally) a girl handsomer than the mistress, neater in her dress, as good in her address – and more cautious as to her character; – Lady Aldborough brought such a one with her to the prison as her dresser and tea-maker. But this “young person,” considering (as Swift says) that “service is no inheritance,” and that she had no money of her own, and hearing that Fitzpatrick Knaresborough possessed great plenty of that necessary article, some way or other the metallic tractors brought them acquainted on the stairs. To run away with him, she had only to trip across a lobby: so she actually broke the sabbath by taking that journey one Sunday morning, and left my lord and my lady to finish the morning service, and wonder at the attractions of Newgate, which could set a-wandering the virtue of their “young person,” whom all the temptations, luxuries, and lovers of London and Dublin had never been able to lead astray from the path of rectitude! My lady was surprised how “Anna” could possibly connect herself with a convict for such a shocking crime; – but his lordship, who knew the world better, said that was the very reason why Anna admired him. However, the whole business in all its ramifications terminated pretty fortunately. My lord had his full revenge on Lord Clare, and got great credit for his firmness and gallantry; Knaresborough was at length turned out of Newgate when the government were tired of keeping him in; while the “young person” produced sundry other young persons of her own in prison, and was amply provided for. The only set-off to this comedy of “All’s Well that Ends Well” was the melancholy fate of poor Miss Barton, who married, was soon deserted by her husband, after his beating her unmercifully, and died in misery.
JOHN PHILPOT CURRAN
Sketch of his character – Personal description – Lodgings at Carlow – Mr. Curran and Mr. Godwin – Scenes in the “Cannon” coffee-house —Liberality of mine host – Miss H * * * in heroics – Precipitate retreat – Lord Clancarty – Mr. Curran’s notion of his own prowess – The disqualifications of a wig – Lord and Lady Carleton – Curran in 1812 – An attorney turned cobbler – Curran’s audience of the present king of France – Strictures on his biographers.
There have been few public men whose characters have afforded a more ample field for comment than that of Mr. Curran, and there are very few who have been more miserably handled by their biographers. Young men, who fancied they knew him because they were latterly in his society, in fact knew him not at all. None but the intimates of his earlier and brighter days, and, even among such, those only who had mixed with him in general as well as professional society, could possibly estimate the inconsistent qualities of that celebrated orator. There was such a mingling of greatness and littleness, of sublimity and meanness, in his thoughts and language, that cursory observers (confused amidst his versatility and brilliance) quitted Curran’s society without understanding any thing relating to him beyond his buoyant spirits and playful wit. But toward the close of his days this splendour dissipated, and dark and gloomy tints appeared too conspicuously, poor fellow! for his posthumous reputation. He felt his decline pressing quick upon him, and gradually sank into listless apathy.
In 1790 he was in the zenith of his glory; but even so early as 1796, his talents and popularity seemed to me to have commenced an obvious declension. By seceding from parliament, he evacuated the field of battle and that commanding eminence from whence he had so proudly repulsed all his enemies. His talents, for a while survived; but his habits of life became contracted, his energies were paralysed, his mind rambled, he began to prose, – and, after his appointment to the Rolls, the world seemed to be closing fast upon him.
My intimacy with Curran was long and close. I knew every turn of his mind and every point of his capacity. He was not fitted to pursue the subtleties of detail; – but his imagination was wide-ranging and infinite, his fancy boundless, his wit indefatigable. There was scarce any species of talent to which he did not possess some pretension. He was gifted by nature with the first faculties of an advocate and of a dramatist; and the lesser but ingenious accomplishment of personification (without mimicry) was equally familiar to him. In the circles of society, where he appeared every body’s superior, nobody ever seemed jealous of that superiority: – it soared too high above the pretensions of others.
Curran’s person was mean and decrepid: very slight, very shapeless – with nothing of the gentleman about it; on the contrary, displaying spindle limbs, a shambling gait, one hand imperfect, and a face yellow, furrowed, rather flat, and thoroughly ordinary. Yet his features were the reverse of disagreeable: there was something so indescribably dramatic in his eye and the play of his eyebrow, that his visage seemed the index of his mind, and his humour the slave of his will. I never was so happy in the company of any man as in Curran’s for many years. His errors he made interesting– his very foibles were amusing. – He had no vein for poetry; yet fancying himself a bard, he fabricated pretty verses: he certainly was no musician; but conceiving himself to be one, played pleasantly on the fiddle. Nature had denied him a voice; but he thought he could sing; and in the rich mould of his capabilities, the desire here also engendered the capacity, and his Irish ballads were excessively entertaining.