PRICE SIXPENCE. 
 
 I*3ff*3('>isiK<iK>«'iK^^ CJCflKci Qx^9if^9x^¥ii^^X^iM^if^ K^X^i^XiK^joK^foKVTt?"* 
 
 >^'&^*^<^''}^m^'^m^^^^ 
 
 LIFE AND ADVENTURES 
 
 OF 
 
 HEOBRLD Wolfe Tone, 
 
 WRITTEN BY HIMSELF, 
 
 AND EXTRACTED FROM HIS JOURNALS. 
 
 EDITED BY HIS SON, 
 
 WILLIAM THEOBALD WOLFE TONE. 
 
 LASGOW: CAMERON, FERGUSON dc CO. 
 
^, > ' > 
 
LIFE AND ADVENTURES 
 
 or 
 
 THEOBALD WOLFE TONE, 
 
 WRITTEN BY HIT^ISELF. 
 
 AND EXTRACTED FROM HIS JOURNALS. 
 
 EDITED BY HIS SON, 
 
 WILLIAM THEOBALD WOLFE TONE. 
 
 GLASGOW: 
 
 CAMERON, FERGUSON & COMPANY 
 
 263 HIGH STREET. 
 
LOAN STACK 
 
M 
 
 /? 
 
 7 „^ 
 
 PREFACE. [ ' 
 
 The Memoirs of Theobald Wolfe Tone, while they possess the 
 usual autobiographical interest, advance claims to attention at 
 thii3 moment of a still more important description. Simply 
 regarded as the self-portraiture of an ardent, enthusiastic, and 
 mentally distinguished individual, they would furnish an eligible 
 subject of contemplation to the amateur student of diversified 
 character, for whom this series is chiefly intended, if existing 
 circumstances did not warrant a close consideration of them on 
 the part of the statesmaa and politician. The individual self- 
 exhibited was no common person or conspirator; his mind was 
 heightened and firm, his capacity respectable, and his energies 
 extraordinary. Yet this man, and many more of kindred qualities, 
 were led into attempts to separate their country from its connexion 
 with Great Britain; and to live and die devoted martvrs to the 
 purpose and principle which excited them to action. At a time 
 when the country, the fate of which they aspired to modify, is 
 labouring under excessive agitation, from a portion of the same 
 n3gative and positive endurance which stimulated exertions so 
 equivocal, it surely cannot be wholly useless to investigate the 
 facts and inferences which have led persons, whose patriotism and 
 ^^^,erestedness, however mistaken, it is difficult to doubt, into 
 efwHs so strenuous, persevering, and dangerous. It is useless for 
 a certain tribe of politicians, in the spirit of a weak theory and 
 worse practice, to exclaim " traitor " and " rebel," and dismiss the 
 subject: all history forms a practical satire upon the silly doctrine 
 of passive obedience, by which they aflfect to be guided; and in 
 estimating the motives to political resistance, every unsophisticated 
 Imman heart forms a plea of mitigation for even the erring 
 victims of an attempt to escape unjustifiable thraldom or put down 
 national oppression. Such being the case, we know not of any 
 thing which, at a crisis like the present, merits consideration more 
 than a characteristic narrative of conduct and adventure, of a 
 nature to show what designs vicious and partial government may 
 secretly engender amidst a^isordered and irritated population — 
 
4: PUEFACE. 
 
 ^Yhat passions it may arouse, what energies awaken, wliat talent3 
 misdirect. Of all the baleful results of harsh and unequal rule, 
 none possibly exipts more truly revolting than that which turns 
 the loftiest and best human aspirations into an uncongenial current, 
 iA)d transforms into "archangels ruined," men intended by nature 
 to act elevated and honourable parts. It is not indeed the judicial 
 condemnation, or legally pronounced sentence alone, which can 
 effect debasement: but so many are the snares and temptations 
 that beset conspiracy, even in its most defensible form, that ths 
 highest spirits are in danger of involvement, and generally hav3 
 reason to rue, like Hamlet, that disjointed times should render 
 tbe call of conscience imperative. 
 
 In what is above written, no opinion is to be inferred on the 
 part of the Editor as regards the plans or projects of the 
 Autobiographer, but simply in favour of the character of the views 
 and motives by which he was personally actuated. From heated 
 partizans on either side, nothing like an impartial estimate can be 
 expected ; but the calm dissector of the human heart cannot read 
 what follows without perceiving that Wolfe Tone followed up the 
 sincere didtates of his heart and understanding. A more 
 spontaneous single-minded man, in fact, never entered into <i plot; 
 and it is impossible to read of his forlorn perseverance in soliciting 
 the aid of France, the privations to which he was in the interim 
 subjected, and the anxiety he endured on the score of a tenderly 
 beloved wife and family, without being struck with the tenacity 
 and firmness of purpose which ultimately, although inadequately 
 and to his own destruction, succeeded. From his journals, never 
 intended for the public eye, sufficient extracts have been made in 
 the following pages, to display the difficulty, and alternate stages 
 of hope and depression, which he almost daily was doomed to 
 encounter. Again it may be repeated, that every scheme of policy 
 involves an awful moral responsibility upon its administrators, 
 which, however delusively, can form apologies to such men for an 
 undeviating resolution to change the government of their country. 
 
 It may be farther proper to observe, that the journals of the 
 unfortunate subject of this little book, occupy no small portion oi 
 two thick octavo volumes of the American edition. Written 
 chiefly for the amusement of a wife, to whom the journalist seema 
 to have never ceased to be a lover, they abound with matter which 
 could scarcely be very interesting to any one else. To a steadiness 
 of object which is scarcely a characteristic of his countrymen, Wolfe 
 Tone united the mercurial vivacity and gaiete de cceur which most 
 decidedly belong to them. These occasionally evaporate in mere 
 fire-side joke and colloquial flippancy, which never being intended 
 for the public eye, nothing but filial partiality could deem fit hi 
 
PREFACE. 5 
 
 it. The frequent bursts of conjugal love and parental tender- 
 ness demand greater consideration, and have therefore some- 
 times found fixvour. The great object in the selection from 
 the Journals, however, has been to retain all which tended to 
 give a clear idea of the views, impulses, and actions of the 
 writer in relation to a French invasion of Ireland, and the 
 dissolution of its connection with Great Britain — the main- 
 spring of all his actions. The editorial labours and narratives 
 of his son have in some instances, although sparingly, been 
 curtailed in a similar manner; simple omissions in all cases 
 being the only liberty taken. 
 
 In concluding this necessary explanation, the Editor hag 
 only to express a hope that his labours will introduce some 
 verv curious and characteristic details to a more oreneral 
 perusal than the diffuse and desultory American volumes troni 
 M'hich they are selected, can possibly claim in the United 
 Kingdom. He has already observed, that the lessons con- 
 veyed are peculiarly opportune; and if the present little 
 volume will only slightly assist to inculcate caution in one 
 order of warm partizans, and conciliation in another, it will 
 effect what far more pretending tomes often aspire to in vain. 
 
PHEFACE 
 
 BY MR WILLIAM THEOBALD WOLFE TONE. 
 (the editor op the first edition of the memoirs). 
 
 In publisliing the life, works, and memoirs of my father, I owe 
 £ome account of the motives which engaged mo to delay their 
 appearance to the present day, and to produce them at this 
 moment. These memoirs were never destined for the public; they 
 were written for one or two friends, now no more, and for his 
 family, of which my mother and myself are now the sole survivors. 
 His pen, which always flowed with light and easy grace, was, of 
 course, allowed to run in these careless memorandums with the 
 utmost eflusion and abandon of soul; they exhibit his very passing 
 feeling on every occasion, and are sometimes as severe on the 
 failings and weaknesses of his own party, and of those to whom 
 he was most warmly and sincerely attached, and for whom he 
 sacrificed the brilliant prospects of his youth, and, at length, his 
 life, as on their adversaries. Of course, whilst the interests in 
 which he was engaged were yet alive, numbers, and some of them 
 unsuspected at the time, might have been dangerously compromised, 
 or seriously hurt, by this publication. In his latter' "days, when 
 he anticipated, with the deepest despondency, the probable failure 
 of his hopes, he used sometimes to exclaim, " Thank God ! no 
 man has ever been compromised by me." Young as I was at the 
 time, I was brought up by my surviving parent in all the 
 principles and in all the feelings of my father. 
 
 But, now, one quarter of a century is m.ore than elapsed, and 
 repeated revolutions have altered the political face of the w@rld. 
 The founder of the United Irish Society, the first of his country- 
 men who called on the people to unite, without discrimination of 
 faith, for the independence of their country, has sealed with his 
 blood, the principles which he professed. His contemporaries, 
 the men with whom he thought and acted, are mostly sunk in the 
 grave; those who survive, are either retired from public life, or 
 engaged in ditferent pursuits; the very government against which 
 he struggled, exists no more; and the country whose liberty he 
 sought to establish, has lost even that shadow of a national 
 administration, and has sunk into a province of England. 1 
 
PREFACE TO THE FIRST EDITION. 7 
 
 cfi.nnot think that the publication of these memoirs, at the present 
 day, can injure the prospects, or endanger the peace, of any living 
 being. Bio few surviving friends, and even his opponents, can 
 only look on those relics with feelings of fond recollection, for ono 
 of the most amiable, affectionate, and gentle-hearted of men — a 
 man of the purest and sincercst principles and patriotism (what- 
 ever may be deemed, according to the reader s opinion, of the 
 soundness of his views), and of the most splendid talents. It is, 
 besides, a tribute which I owe to his memory, and a sacred duty, 
 believing, as I do, that, in the eyes of impartial and uninterested 
 posterity, they will be honourable to his character; that they 
 throw a most interesting light on the political situation and history 
 of Ireland; and that even yet, and in its present state, the views 
 •wliich they contain mny be of some use to that country for which 
 he died; and for which, though an exile from my infancy, I must 
 ever fed the interest due to my native land. 
 
 Another motive which has determined me to bring out this 
 work at present, is the late publication of some fragments of it (an 
 autobiography of my father) in the London New Monthly 
 Magazine; a publication entirely unexpected by me, as I have 
 never had any acquaintance or correspondence Vvith the editors of 
 that paper. As I possess, and nov/ republish, the original manu- 
 script from wdience they are taken, I must do these gentlemen the 
 justice to give my testimony in favour of their accuracy; and, 
 with the exception of a few trifling mistakes, very pardonable at 
 such a distance of time, and which shall be rectified in the present 
 work, to thank them for the liberality of their comments and 
 observations. The character of these notes, and the very appear- 
 ance of this biographical sketch at this time, and in England, 
 convinces me that my father's name is not yet quite forgotten, and 
 is still respected, even in the country of his adversaries. The 
 amiability of his personal character secured him, indeed, even 
 during his life-time, and amidst all the rancour of political 
 animosity, the rare advantage of preserving the friendship of many 
 valuable and illustrious individuals who were opposed to him in 
 principles. He scarcely had a personal enemy, unless perhaps we 
 except the Chancellor Fitzgibbon (Lord Clare), and the Hon. 
 George Ponsonby, who agreed in this point alone. His spirit 
 could never stoop to the petulant insolence of the one, nor to the 
 haughty dulness of the other. But I have never seen his name 
 mentioned in any history of the times without respect and regret. 
 I cannot, therefore, believe that even the most zealous partizans 
 of the British government v/ould have the weakness, at this time and 
 distancej to feel any objection to the publication of these writings. 
 
 Although the charactec of Tone, and his political princ'^les, 
 
8 PREFACE TO THE FIRST EDITION. 
 
 ^Yill be best developed in his own works, yet his son may be 
 allowed to give way to some of his feelings on this subject. His 
 image is yet blended with the recollections of my infancy. To the 
 soundest judgment and most acute penetration in serious business, 
 he joined a most simple and unaffected modesty, and the most 
 perfect disinterestedness; no human breast could be more free from 
 the meaner passions, envy, jealousy, avarice, cupidity; and often 
 oblivious of himself, he delighted in the fame and glory of others. 
 Injuries he easily forgot; kindness never. Though his constitution 
 was nervous and sensitive to a very high degree, he was naturally 
 of a most cheerful temper, and confiding, unsuspicious, and 
 affectionate heart. Indeed, few men have enjoyed so completely 
 the happiness of loving and of being beloved. His wife and 
 family he perfectly adored; and the circle of his intimate friends, 
 of those who were really and devotedly attached to him, comprised 
 men of the most opposite parties and descriptions. His character 
 was tinged with a vein of chivalry and romance; and lively, 
 polite, and accomplished, his youth was not entirely free from some 
 imprudence and wildness. He was fond of pleasure as well as of 
 glory; but the latter feeling was always, in him, subservient to 
 principle; and his pleasures were pure and elegant, those of a 
 simple taste and brilliant fancy and imagination; music, literature, 
 field sports and elegant society and conversation, especially that of 
 amiable and accomplished women, with whom he was a universal 
 favourite. His musical and literary taste was of the most cultivated 
 delicacy; and the charms of his conversation, where a natural and 
 national vein of wit and feeling flowed without effort or affectation, 
 were indescribable. But, though formed to be the delight of 
 society, the joys of home and domestic life were his real element. 
 He was the fondest of husbands, of fathers, of sons, of brothers, 
 and of friends. In the privacy of his modest fireside, the liveliest 
 How of spirits and of feeling was never interrupted by one moment 
 of dulness or of harshness, and it was the happiest of retreats. 
 
 His success in the world was astonishing, and owing almost as 
 much to the amiability of his character and social qualities, as to 
 his extraordinary talents. Hisen from an obscure birth, and 
 struggling with poverty and difficulties, his classical triumphs 
 and acquirements at the university were of the highest order. On 
 entering afterwards into life, he supported his father and numerous 
 family, by his sole efforts; and rose not only to independence and 
 fame, but was received as a favourite in the first aristocratic circles, 
 even before he engaged in politics. Amongst the illustrious 
 families and characters with whom he was familiarly acquainted, 
 and who certainly yet remember his name with affection, were the 
 Duke of Leinster, Lord Moira, and his noble and princely mother; 
 
PHEFACB TO THE Fir.ST EDITION. 9 
 
 The Honounible George Knox, and jMarcus Beresforcl, Pluiikett, 
 Grattan, Curran, Hamilton Rowan, P. Burrowes, Sir Laurence 
 Parsons, Emmett, C. Biislie, Whitley Stokes, &c., and all the 
 heads of the Irish bar and society. I have already observed, that, 
 however opposed to many of them in politics, and when he was 
 become a marking leader, and raost obnoxious to the government, 
 he preserved their aflfection. And when, after Jackson's trial, he 
 lay under a kind of proscription, they gave him noble and generous 
 proofs of it. 
 
 His success in politics was no less wonderful. When he WTote 
 his first pamphlet in favour of the Catholics (the Northern \Vhig), 
 he was not acquainted with a single individual of that religion, so 
 complete at that period was the distinction marked in society 
 between the several sects. In a few months he was the prime 
 mover of their councils, and accomplished the union between them 
 and the Dissenters of the North. 
 
 His political principles will of course be blamed or approved, 
 according to those of the reader. During his life-time some 
 regarded him as a fanatical democrat and furious demagogue, 
 whilst others in his own party accused him of haughtiness in his 
 manner, and aristocratical prejudices. The fact is, that though 
 he preferred in theory a republican form of government, his main 
 object was to procure the independence of his country under a 
 liberal administration, whatever might be its form and name. 
 His tastes and habits were rather aristocratical for the society with 
 which he was sometimes obliged to mingle. I believe that, in 
 reading these memoirs, many people will be surprised ut (and some 
 perhaps will blame) the moderation of his views. The persecutions 
 of the government drove him much farther than he purposed at 
 first. But, from their fair and impartial perusal, none can possibly 
 rise, without being convinced of his purity and patriotism, what- 
 ever they may deem of his wisdom and foresight. No man who 
 ever engaged so deeply and so earnestly in so great a cause, was so 
 little influenced by any motives of personal ambition, or so dis- 
 interestedly devoted to what he thought the interest of his country. 
 
 In opening these pages it should also be remembered that the 
 situation and political organization of Ireland at that period, were 
 totally different, both from what they had been before and from 
 what they had fallen to since. She possessed, at that precise 
 moment, a separate government, and a national legislature, 
 nominally independent ; my father never considered himself as an 
 Englishman, nor as a subject of Great Britain, but as a native and 
 subject of the kingdom of Ireland, most zealously and passionately 
 devoted to the rights, the liberties, and glory of his country. 
 
 At the epoch of the American war (1782), the unguarded state 
 
10 PREFACE TO THE FIRST EDITION. 
 
 of that island, the efforts of the patriots in its legislature, and the 
 simultaneous and formidable rising of the volunteers, whilst 
 England was exhausted by that fruitless contest, had wrung from 
 the British government the reluctant acknowledgment of its 
 independence. This period was brief and glorious. With the 
 first dawn of liberty she took a new spring and began to flourish 
 by her natural resources; the spirit of her people reviving with 
 her commerce, industrj'', and manufactures. But this dawn was 
 soon overcast by the corruption of her government, and the bigoted 
 intolerance of the ruling Protestant ascendancy; the former carried 
 to the most open profligacy, and the latter to the most besotted 
 blindness. My object is not to write a history, nor to anticipate 
 what my father has urged with such force and eloquence in the 
 follovvdng works and memoirs; but had the Irish legislature, who 
 recovered their independent rights, had the liberality to emancipate 
 their Catholic brethren, and allowed them to participate in the 
 benefits of free and equal citizenship, and had the volunteers 
 admitted them into their ranks, England would never have 
 recovered the power which she had lost. It v/ould be a curious, 
 but at this day a very vain speculation, to calculate what these 
 two independent but allied kingdoms might have risen to, cultivat- 
 ing their separate means under one sovereign and with one interest. 
 
 This wakening of the spirit of liberty, roused, however, from 
 their long slumber of slavery the oppressed and degraded Catholics, 
 who, by a strange anomaly, forming the original population of the 
 country and the mass of the people, w^re, at that period, and are 
 still in eome respects, aliens in their native land. Their first steps 
 were weak and timid, but their progress was inconceivably rapid; 
 those of the present day, in reading these memoirs, and other 
 works of the same time, will scarcely believe that their fathers 
 could ever have been degraded to such a state; and with what 
 trembling, doubts, and hesitation, they first opened their eyes to 
 the dawn of freedom, and directed their first tottering steps in its 
 career. My father was the first Protestant who engaged in their 
 cause to its whole length; and experienced the greatest difficulty, 
 in the beginning, to rouse them, if not to a sense of their wrongs, 
 at least to the spirit of expressing them.* 
 
 But these eff"orts, by which the whole island began shortly to 
 heave her foundations, alarmed the jealousy of that party who 
 monopolized all the power and property of the country. To 
 secure the support of England, they sacrificed its prosperity, 
 honour, and independence^ and the British ministry, with patient 
 
 * It i.sri remarkable fact tliat ino:.t of tlic IcTucrs of the United Irislimen wlio perished 
 in the civil war were Protestants: Tone, Emmett, Russell, Lord Edward Fitzgerald, &c 
 Of the twenty prisoners in Fort George, four only were Catholics. 
 
PREFACE TO THE FIRST EDITION". 11 
 
 discretion, awaited the result; they gave all their means and aid 
 to strengthen the Irish administration, and allowed it to render 
 itself as odious as possible, and to destroy, by its cruelty and 
 insolence, in the hearts of the people all affection for their national 
 government. No other arms than those of corruption were used 
 by England against the independence of Ireland; for its own ad- 
 ministration took on itself all the odium of its tyranny, and all the 
 task of reducing the people to slavery. The distant king and 
 parliament of England were, on the contrary, often solicited as 
 mediators by the oppressed and miserable Irish. It was this 
 government and this party, against which the animosity and 
 attacks of my father were directed; it was the Irish government 
 which he sought to overturn by uniting the divided factions of the 
 people. His resentment against England was a secondary and in- 
 cidental passion; it arose from her support of those abuses. He 
 long endeavoured by legal and constitutional means, and even by 
 soliciting the British monarch and government, to effect that 
 reform; nor was it till all his hopes proved fruitless from that 
 quarter, that he determined on attempting, by any means, the 
 separation of the two countries. 
 
 As for the Irish administration, England reaped the fruits of 
 her policy. It became so corrupt and so infamous that it could 
 no longer stand, and finally its members bartered the existence of 
 their country as a nation, for a paltry personal compensation to 
 themselves. It was the cheapest bargain England ever drove. 
 Was it the wisest? Instead of using her influence to re-organize 
 that wretched government, to give it strength and popularity, by 
 emancipating the people and attaching them to their institutions, 
 she chose to absorb Ireland in her own sphere, and efface it from 
 the list of nations. But that execrable administration, in dis- 
 appearing from existence, left, as a pernicious legacy behind it, all 
 its abuses, confirmed, rooted in the soil, and now supported by the 
 direct and open authority of the British monarch, laws, parliament, 
 and constitution. The union and incorporation of the two countries 
 were but nominal; and the mass of the Irish population participated 
 neither in the benefits nor privileges of the British institutions. 
 
 This was a wretched and narrow policy. Instead of encouraging, 
 by every means in its power, the industry and the ment;d and 
 physical resources of Ireland, and thus adding to the general 
 mass of wealth and information of the whole empire, a petty 
 jealousy of her competition with the trade and manufactures of 
 England has always engaged the government of the latter country 
 to keep down and crush, in every possible v/ay, the natural spring 
 and spirit of the Irish, 
 
 Whether England has gained much by the union, time will show* 
 
12 PREFACE TO THE FIEST EDITION. 
 
 The ministry has gained a clear reinforcement of one hundred votes 
 in Parliament, for no Irishman \\ill ever consider himself as an 
 Englishman; and whilst his own country is miserable and enslaved, 
 what earthly motive but his own interest can influence him in 
 questions which regard merely the liberties or interests of England? 
 The people show no symptoms of attachment or loyalty to their 
 new masters; and for what should they be loyal? For six hun- 
 dred years of slavery, misrule, and persecution ! Ireland must be 
 guarded at the same expense, and with the same care, as formerly, 
 and is rather a heavy clog on the powers and means of Great 
 Britain than a support and an addition to them. Nor is it 
 absolutely impossible that, if some ambitious and unprincipled 
 monarch hereafter mount the throne, he may find in the Irish 
 Catholics, of whom the mass will be brutalized by misgovernment, 
 and rendered ignorant and ferocious, very proper instruments for 
 his designs. They have no reason to admire, nor to be attached 
 to the British constitution, and would follow the call of Satan 
 himself, were he to cheer them on to revenge — and who could 
 blame them ? 
 
 But I must not lose myself in dissertations wdiich do not concern 
 my subject. For in my father's time no one dreamt of that union; 
 and his most violent adversaries, the most furious upholders of the 
 Protestant ascendancy, would have been most indignant at such a 
 suggestion. Had it been prematurely proposed, they would, per- 
 haps, have joined with their adversaries rather than have listened 
 to it. The only conclusion which I wish to draw from these 
 jpremises is, that England, by dissolving that Irish government, 
 has fully confirmed the charges adduced against it, and my father's 
 opinion of it; and till the abuses which it supported, and which 
 have survived its fall, are corrected; till that monopoly is removed 
 by which all the rights and powders of citizenship and sovereignty 
 are usurped by a favoured minority; whilst the remainder of the 
 population groans in slavery, Ireland, either under a separate and 
 national administration, or as a province of Great Britain, will ever 
 remain in an unnatural state of anarchy and misery, unable to 
 cultivate her resources, either for her own benefit, or for that of 
 her masters. 
 
 I shall close this preface with a single remark. The only 
 liberties which I have taken with the following memoirs, in pre- 
 paring them for the press, were to suppress a few passages relative 
 to family affairs, which concern nobody; and the account of some 
 early amours, which my father, though a little wild in his youth, 
 was too much of a gentleman to have allowed to appear, and which 
 ''^ would ill become his son to revive at this day. 
 
LIFE 
 
 OP 
 
 THEOBALD WOLFE TONE, 
 
 PPtEVIOUS TO HIS MISSION TO FRANCE. 
 WRITTEN BY HIMSELF. 
 
 •• Nil desperandum.' 
 
 Paris, August 7, HOG. 
 
 As I sliall embark in a business within a few days, the event of 
 which is uncertain, I take the opportunity of a vacant hour to 
 throw on paper a few memorandums, relative to myself and my 
 family, which may amuse my boys, for whom I write them, in 
 case tliey should hereafter fiill into their hands. 
 
 I was born in the city of Dublin, on the 20th of Juno, 17G3, 
 My grandfather was a respectable farmer near Naas, in the county 
 of Kiidare. Being killed by a fall off a stack of his own corn, in 
 the year 1766, his property, being freehold lenses, descended to 
 my father, his eldest son, who was, at that time, in successful 
 business us a coachmaker. He set, in consequence, the lands 
 which came thus into his possession, to his youngest brother, 
 which, eventually, was the cause of much litigation between tliem, 
 and ended in a decree of the court of chancery that utterly ruined 
 my father ; but of that hereafter. My mother, whose name was 
 Lamport, was the daughter of a captain of a vessel in the West 
 India trade, who, by many anecdotes which she has told me of 
 ,him, was a great original ; she had a brother who was an excellent 
 seaman, and served as first lieutenant on board of the Buckingham, 
 commanded by Admiral Tyrrel, a distinguished ofiiLLr in the 
 British service. 
 
 I was their eldest son; but, before I come to my history, I 
 must say a few wgrds of my brothers. William, who was bora 
 
14 LIFE OF 
 
 ill August, 1764, was intended for business, and was, in con- 
 sequence, bound apprentice, at the age of fourteen, to an eminent 
 bookseller. With him he read over all the voyages he could find, 
 with which, and some military history, he heated an imagination 
 naturally warm and enthusiastic so much, that, at the age of 
 sixteen, he ran off to London, and entered as a volunteer in the 
 East India Company's service; but his first essay was very 
 unlucky; for, instead of finding his way out to India, ho was 
 stopped at the island of St Helena, on which barren rock he 
 remained in garrison for six years, when, his time being expired, 
 he returned to Europe. It is highly to his honour, that though 
 he entered into such execrable society as the troops in the 
 company's service must be supposed to be, and at such an early 
 age, he passed through them without being affected by the con- 
 tagion of their manners or their principles. He even found means, 
 in that degraded situation and remote spot, to cultivate his min^} 
 to a certain degree, so that I was much surprised, at our meetinj^ 
 in London, after a separation of, I believe, eight years, to find hiui 
 with the manners of a gentleman, and a considerable acquaintance 
 with the best parts of English literature: he had a natural turn 
 for poetry, which he had much improved, and I have among my 
 papers a vokime of his poems, all of them pretty, and some of 
 them elegant. He was a handsome, well-made lad, with a very 
 good address, and extremely well received among the women, 
 whom he loved to excess. He was as brave as Caesar, and loved 
 the army. It was impossible for two men to entertain a more 
 sincere, and, I may say, enthusiastic aflfection for each other, than 
 he and I; and, at this hour, there is scarcely anything on earth I 
 regret so much as our separation. Having remained in Europe 
 for three or four years, my father being, as I have above alluded 
 to, utterly ruined by a law-suit with his brother, William took the 
 resolution to try his fortune once more in India, from which, my 
 own affairs being nearly desperate, I did not attempt to dissuade 
 him. In consequence, he re-entered the company's service in the 
 beginning of the year 1792, and arrived at Madras towards the 
 end of the same year. With an advantageous figure, a good 
 address, and the talents I have described, he recommended himself 
 so far to the colonel of the battalion in which he served, that he 
 gave him his discharge, with letters to his friends at Calcutta, and 
 a small military command, which defrayed the expense of his 
 voyage, and procured him a gratification from the company of 
 £50 sterling for his good behaviour on his arrival. The service 
 lie performed was quelling, at some hazard, a dangerous mutiny 
 v.'hich arose among the black troops who were under his command, 
 
THEOBALD WOLFE TONE. 15 
 
 and who had formed a scheme to run away with the ship. Hg 
 had the good fortune to recommend himself so far to the porsona 
 at Calcutta to whom he had brought letters, that they introduced 
 him, with strong recommendations, to a Mr ^larigny, a French 
 officer, second in command in the army of the Nizam, who was 
 then at Calcutta purchasing military stores for that prince. 
 Marigny, in consequence, gave him a commission in the Nizam's 
 service, and j^romised him the command of a battalion of artillery 
 (the service to which he was attached), as soon as they should 
 arrive at the army. The stores, etc., being purchased, William 
 marched with the first division, of which he had the command, 
 and arrived safely at the Nizam's camp. After some time Marigny 
 followed him; but, by an unforeseen accident, all my brother's 
 expectations were blown up. A quarrel took place between 
 Marig.'iy and the Frenchman first in command, in which my 
 brother, with an honourable indiscretion, engaged on the side of 
 his friend. The consequence v/as that Marigny was put in irons, 
 as would have been William also, if he had not applied for protection 
 as a British subject to the English resident at the Nizam's court. 
 This circumstance, together with the breaking out of the war 
 between England and France, utterly put an end to all prospects 
 of his advancement, as all the European officers in the Nizam's 
 service were French, and he determined, in consequence, to return 
 to Calcutta. On his journey, having travelled four hundred miles, 
 and having yet two hundred to travel, he alighted off his horse, 
 and went to shoot in a jungle, or thick wood, by the road side; 
 on his return he found his servant and horses in the hands of five 
 ruffians who were plundering his baggage; he immediately ran up 
 and fired on them, by which he shot one of them in the belly; 
 another returned the fire with one of his own pistols, which they 
 had seized, and shot him through the foot; they then made ofi 
 with their booty, and, in this condition, my brother had to travel 
 two hundred miles in that burning climate, at the commencement, 
 too, of the rainy season, badly wounded, and without resources; 
 his courage, however, and a good constitution, supported him, and 
 he arrived at length at Calcutta, where he got speedily cured. 
 His friends there had not forgotten him; and, after some time, an 
 opportunity otfering of ]Major Palmer going up to Poonah, as 
 resident nt the court of the Paishwa of the Mahrattahs, they 
 procured him strong recommendations to that court, and he set oir 
 with Major Palmer in high health and spirits, with expectations 
 of the command :it least of a battalion of artillery. Such is the 
 substance of the last letter which I received from him. Since that 
 time, I am utterly ignorant of his fate. I hope and trust the best 
 
 /r 
 
16 LIFE OP 
 
 of him; he has a good constitution, unshaken courage, a fluent 
 address; and his variety of adventures must, by this time, have 
 sufficiently matured his mind, and given him experience, I look, 
 therefore, with confidence to our meeting again, and the hour of 
 that meeting will be one of the happiest of my life. 
 
 My second brother, Matthew, was of a temper very different 
 from that of William ; vAih less of fire, he was much more solid ; 
 he spoke little, but thought a great deal; in the family we called 
 him the Spectator, from his short face and his silence; but, though 
 he had not William's volubility, and could not, like him, make a great 
 display, with frequently little substance, and though his manner 
 was reserved and phlegmatic, so as to be frequently absent in 
 company, he had a rambling, enthusiastic spirit, stronger than any 
 of us. He loved travelling and adventures for their own sakes. 
 In consequence, before he was twenty-five, he had visited England 
 twice or three times, and had spent twelve months in America, 
 and as much in the West Indies. On his return from this last 
 place, he mentioned to me his determination to pass over to France, 
 and enter a volunteer in the service of the republic, in which I 
 encouraged and assisted him. This was in the month of August, 
 
 1794. In consequence, he crossed over to Hamburgh, whence he 
 passed to Dunkirk, and presenting himself as an Irishman desirous 
 of the honour of serving in the French armies, was immediately 
 thrown into prison on suspicion. There he remained until May, 
 
 1795, when he was discharged by order of the committee of public 
 safety, and, going on to Havre de Grace, he took his passage to 
 America, where he arrived in safety, for the second time, about 
 Christmas, at which time I was actually at New York, w^aiting 
 for my passage to France, so that we were together in America, 
 without knowing of each other, a circumstance which I regret most 
 exceedingly; as, in the present situation of my affairs, it is at least 
 possible that we may never meet again; but I am not of a very 
 desponding temper. The variety of adventures we have both gone 
 through, and the escapes we have had in circumstances of great 
 peril, have made me a kind of fatalist, and therefore I look with 
 confidence to the day, and, I hope not a very remote one, when 
 the whole of my family shall be reunited and happy, by which 
 time I think the spirit of adventure will, or at least ought to be, 
 pretty well laid in all of us. My brother Matthew, like William, is 
 something of a poet, and has written some trifles, in the burlesque 
 style, that are not ill done. He is a brave lad, and I love hiui 
 most sincerely. His age, at the tiuie I write this, is about twenty- 
 six or twenty-seven years. l\latthew is a sincere and ardent 
 republican, and capable, as I think, of sacrificing every thing to 
 
TBEOBALD WOLFE TONE. 17 
 
 his principles. I know not what effect his lying so long in a 
 French prison may have had upon liim; but, if I do not dcccivo 
 myself, it has made no change in his sentiments. lie is more 
 temperate in nil respects than William or myself, for \vc have both 
 a, strong attachment to pleasures and amusements, and a dash of 
 coxcombry, from which he is totally free; and, perhaps, a little, at 
 least, of the latter foible would be of no prejudice to him, nor 
 render him less agreeable. 
 
 My third brother, Arthur, is much younger than any of us, 
 being born about the year 1782; of course he is now fourteen 
 years of age. If I can judge, when he grows up, he will 
 resemble William exactly in mind and person. He is a fine, cmart 
 boy, as idle as possible (which we have all been, without excepti-sn), 
 with very quick parts, and as stout as a lion. My father was bent 
 on making him an attornej'', for which no boy on earth was ever 
 so unfitted. He wished himself, having the true vagrant turn of 
 the family, to go to sea; his father was obstinate, so was he, and 
 the boy was in a fair way to be lost when I prevailed, with some 
 difficulty, on his father to consent to his going at least one voyage. 
 In consequence, he sailed v/ith a captain ]Meyler to Portugal, being 
 then about twelve years of age. On his return he liked the sea so 
 well that he was bound regularly apprentice to captain Meyler, 
 under whom he made a voyage to London, and a second voyage to 
 Portugal. On his return from this last trip, in June, 1795, he 
 found me at Belfast on my departure for America, and he deter- 
 mined to accompany me, I was extremely happy to have him 
 with us, and, in consequence, he crossed the Atlantic with me, and 
 remained nntil I decided on coming to France; when I resolved 
 to despatch him to Ireland, to give notice to my friends there of 
 what I v/as about. I put him, in consequence, on board the 
 Susannah, Captain Baird, at Philadelphia, on the lOtli December, 
 1795, since which time, from circumstances, it has been impossible 
 for me to have heard of him, but I rel}', with confidence, that he 
 has arrived safe, and discharged his commission with ability and 
 discretion. 
 
 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; 
 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. AVhen I was driven into exile in America, as 
 I shall relate hereafter, she determined to share my fortunes; and, 
 
18 LIFE OP 
 
 in consequence, she also, like the rest of us, has made her voyage 
 across tiie Atlantic. 
 
 My father and mother were pretty much like other people; but, 
 from this short sketch, with what I have to add concerning myself, 
 I think it will appear that their children were not at all like other 
 people, but have had, every one of them, a v/ild spirit of adventure; 
 which, thougli sometimes found in an individual, rarely pervades 
 a whole family, including even the females. For my brother 
 William has visited Europe, Asia, and Africa, before he was thirty 
 years of age. Matthew has been in America twice, in the West 
 Indies once, not to mention several trips to England, and his 
 voyage and imprisonment in France, and all this before he was 
 twenty-seven. Arthur, at the age of fourteen, has been once in 
 England, twice in Portugal, and has twice crossed the Atlantic, 
 going to and returning from America. My sister Mary crossed 
 the same ocean, and I hope will soon do the same on her return. 
 I do not here speak of my wife and our little boys and girl, the 
 eldest of whom was about eight, and the youngest two years old 
 when we sailed for America. And, by all I can see, it is by no 
 means certain that our voyages are yet entirely finished. 
 
 I come now to myself. I was, as I have said, the eldest child 
 of my parents, and a very great favourite. I was sent, at the age 
 of eight or nine, to an excellent English school, kept by Sisson 
 Darling, a man to whose kindness and affection I was much 
 indebted, and who took more than common pains with me. I 
 respect him yet. I was very idle, and it was only the fear of 
 shame which could induce me to exertion. Nevertheless, at the 
 approach of our public examinations, which were held quarterly, 
 and at which all our parents and friends attended, I used to labour 
 for some time, and generally with success; as I have obtained six 
 or seven premiums in different branches at one examination, for 
 mathematics, arithmetic, reading, spelling, recitation, use of the 
 globes, &c. In two branches I always failed, writing and the 
 catechism, to which last I could never bring myself to apply. 
 Having continued with Mr Darling for about three years, and 
 pretty nearly exhausted the circle of English education, he 
 recommended strongly to my father to put me to a Latin 
 school, and to prepare mo for the University; assuring him 
 that I was a fine boy, of uncommon talents, particularly 
 for the mathematics; that it was a thousand pities to throw me 
 away on a business, when, by giving me a liberal education, there 
 was a moral certainty I should become a fellow of Trinity College, 
 which was a noble independence, besides the glory of the situation. 
 In these arguments he was suppuited by the parson of the parish, 
 
THEOEALD WOLFE TONE. 19 
 
 Doctor Jameson, a vrorthy man, who used to examine me from 
 time to time in the elements of Euclid. My father, who. to do 
 him justice, loved me passionately, and spared no expense on me 
 that his circumstances would afford, was easily persuaded by these 
 authorities. It was determined that I should be a fellow of 
 Dublin College. I was taken from Mr Darling, from whom I 
 parted with regret, and placed, about the age of twelve, under the 
 care of the llev. William Craig, a man very different, in all respects, 
 from my late preceptor. As the school was in the same street 
 where we lived (Stafford Street), and as I was under my father's 
 eye, I began Latin with ardour, and continued for a year or two 
 with great diligence, when I began Greek, which I found still more 
 to my taste; but, about this time, whether unluckily for me or 
 not, the future colour of my life must determine, my father, 
 meeting with an accident of a fall down stairs, by which he was 
 dreadfully wounded in the head, so that he narrowly escaped with 
 life, found, on his recovery, his affairs so deranged in all respects^ 
 that he determined on quitting business and retiring to the 
 country; a resolution which he executed accordingly; settling with 
 all his creditors, and placing me with a friend near the school, 
 W'hom he paid for my diet and lodging, besides allowing me a 
 trifling sum for my pocket. In this manner I became, 1 may say, 
 my own master before I was sixteen; and as at this time I am not 
 remarkable for ray discretion, it may well be judged I was less so 
 then. The superintendence of my father being removed, I began 
 to calculate that, according to the slow rate chalked out for me by 
 Craig. I could very well do the business of the week in three days, 
 or even two, if necessary, and that consequently the other three 
 were lawful prize. I therefore resolved to appropriate three days 
 in the week, at least, to my amusements, and the others to school; 
 always keeping in the latter three the day of repetition, which 
 included the business of the whole week, by which arrangement I 
 kept my rank with the other boys of my class. I found no 
 difficulty in convincing half-a-dozen of my school-fellows of the 
 justice of this distribution of our time, and by this means we 
 established a regular sj'stem of what is called mitching; and we 
 contrived, being some of the smartest boys at school, to get an 
 ascendancy over the spirit of the master, so that when we entered 
 the school in a body, after one of our days of relaxation, he did 
 not choose to burn his fingers with any one of us; nor did he once 
 write to my father to inform him of my proceedings, for which ho 
 most certainly was highly culpable. I must do mj^self and my 
 school-fellows the justice to say, that though we were abominably 
 idle, we were not vicious; our amusements consisted in walking 
 
20 LIFE OF 
 
 to the country, in swimming parties in the sea, and particularly 
 in attending ail parades, field days, and reviews of the garrison of 
 Dublin in the Phoenix Park. I mention this particularly, because, 
 independent of confirming me in a rooted habit of idleness, which 
 I lament most exceedingly, I trace to the splendid appearance of 
 the troop?-, and the pomp and parade of military show, the 
 untameable desire which I ever since have had to become a soldier; 
 a desire which has never once quitted me, and which after sixteen 
 years of various adventures, I am at last at liberty to indulge. 
 Being at this time approaching to seventeen years of age, it will 
 not be thought incredible that woman began to appear lovely in 
 my eyes, and I very wisely thought that a red coat and cockade, 
 with a pair of gold epaulets, would aid me considerably in my 
 approaches to the objects of my adoration. 
 
 This, combined with the reasons above mentioned, decided me. 
 I began to look on classical learning as nonsense, on a fellowship 
 in Dublin College as a pitiful establishment; and, in short, I 
 thought an ensign in a marching regiment was the happiest creature 
 Jiving. The hour when I was to enter the University, which now 
 ap[)roached, 1 looked forward to with horror and disgust. I 
 absented myself more and more from school, to which I preferred 
 attending the recruits on a drill at the barracks. So that at length 
 my schoolmaster, who apprehended I should be found insufficient 
 at the examination for entering the college, and that he, of con- 
 sequence, would come in for his share of the disgrace, thought 
 proper to do what he should have done at least three years before, 
 and wrote my father a full account of my proceedings. This 
 immediately produced a violent dispute between us. I declared 
 my passion for the army, and my utter dislike to a learned 
 profession; but my father was as obstinate as I; and as he utterly 
 refused to give me any assistance to forward my scheme, I had no 
 resource but to submit, or to follow my brother William's example, 
 which I was too proud to do. In consequence, I sat down again, 
 with a very bad grace, to pull up my lost time; and, at length, 
 after labouring for some time, sorely against the grain, I entered a 
 pensioner of Trinity College, in February, 1781; being then not 
 quite eighteen years of age. My tutor was the Rev. ]\[atthew 
 Young, the most popular in the University, and one of the first 
 mathematicians in Europe. At first I began to study logic 
 courageously; but unluckily, at my very first examination, I 
 hnjipened to fall into the hands of an egregious dance, one 
 Ledwich, who, instead of giving me the premium, which, as best 
 answerer, I undoubtedly merited, awarded it to another, and to 
 me very indifferent judgments. I did not stand in need of this 
 
THEOBALD WOLFE TONE. 21 
 
 jji'ece of injustice to alienate me once more from my studies. I 
 returned with eagerness to my military plan; I besought my father 
 to equip me as a volunteer, and to suffer me to join the British 
 army in America, where the war still raged. He refused me as 
 before; and in revenge I would not go near the < "lege, nor open 
 a book that was not a military one. In this manner we continued 
 for above a twelvemonth, on very bad terms, as may well be 
 supposed, without either party relaxing an inch from their 
 determination. At length, seeing the war in America drawing to 
 a close, and being beset by some of my friends who surrounded me, 
 particularly Dr Jameson, whom I have already mentioned, and a 
 Mr G. J. Brown, who had been sub-master at Mr Darling's 
 academy, and was now become :\ lawyer, I submitted a second 
 time, and returned to my studies, after an interval of above a 
 year. To punish me for my obstinacy, I was obliged to submit to 
 drop a class, as it is called in the University, that is, to recom- 
 mence with the students who had entered a year after me. I 
 continued my studies at college as I had done at scho*)!; that is, 
 I idled until the last moment of delay. I then laboured hard for 
 about a fortnight before the public examinations, and I always 
 secured good judgments, besides obtaining three premiums in the 
 three last years of my course. During my progress through the 
 University I was not without adventures. Towards the latter end 
 of 1782, I went out as second to a young fellow of my acquaint- 
 ance, of the name of Foster, who fought with another lad, also of 
 my acquaintance, named Anderson, and had the misfortune to 
 shoot him through the head. The second to Anderson was 
 William Armstrong, my most particular friend, who is now a very 
 respectable clergyman, and settled at Dungannon. As Anderson's 
 friends were outrageous against Foster and me, we were obliged 
 at first to withdraw ourselves; but after some time their passion 
 abated, and I returned to college, whence this adventure was neat 
 driving me a second time and for ever. Foster stood his trial 
 and was acquitted; against me there was no prosecution. In this 
 unfortunate business the eldest of us was not more than tv/enty 
 years of age. 
 
 At length, about the beginning of the 3'ear 1785, I became 
 acquainted with my wife. She was the daughter of William 
 Witherington, and lived, at that time, in Grafton Street, in the 
 house of her grandfather, a rich old clergyman, of the name of 
 Famiiiig. I was then a scholar of the house in the University, 
 and every day, after commons, I used to walk under her windows 
 with one or the other of my fellow-students; I soon grew passion- 
 ately fond of her, and she^ also, was struck with me, thoui^h 
 
22 ' LIFE OF 
 
 certainly my appearance, neither then nor now, was much in my 
 favour; so it was, however, that, before we had ever spoken to 
 each other, a mutual affection had commenced between us. She 
 was, at this time, not sixteen years of age, and as beautiful as an 
 angel. She had a brother some years older than herself; and as 
 it was necessary, for my admission into the family, that I should 
 be first acquainted with him, I soon contrived to be introduced to 
 him; 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 Vv'ife 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 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 eclat of 
 passion had subsided, we were forgiven on all sides, and settled 
 in lodgings near my wife's grandfather. 
 
 I was now, for a very short time, as happy as possible, in the 
 possession of a beautiful creature that I adored, and v,'ho every 
 hour grew more and more upon my heart. The scheme of a fel- 
 lowship, which I never relished, was now abandoned, and it was 
 determined that, when I had taken my degree of bachelor of arts, 
 I should go to the Temple, study the law, and be called to the 
 bar. I continued, in consequence, my studies in the University, 
 and obtained my last premium two or three months, after I was 
 married. In February, 1786, I commenced bachelor of arts, and 
 shortly after resigned my scholarship, and quitted the University. 
 I m;>y observe here, that I made some figure as a scholar, and 
 should have been much more successful if I had not been so in- 
 veterately idle, partly owing to my passion for a military life, and 
 pnrtly to the distractions to which my natural dispositions and 
 temperament but too much exposed me. As it w^as, however, I 
 obtained a scholarship, three premiums, and three medals from the 
 Historical Society, a most admirable institution, of which I had 
 the honour to be auditor; and also to close the session with a 
 speech from the chair, the highest compliment which that society 
 is used to bestow. I look back on my college days with regret, 
 and I preserve, and ever shall, a most sincere affection for the 
 University of Dublin. 
 
 But to return. The tranquil and happy life I spent, for a short 
 period after my marriage, was too good to last We were obliged 
 
THEOBALD WOLFE TONE. 23 
 
 to break off all comiection with my wife's family, wlio began to 
 treat us with all possible slight and disrespect. ^Ye removed, in 
 consequence, to my father's, who then resided near Clain, in the 
 county of Kildare, and whose circumstances could, at that time, 
 but ill bear such an addition to his flunily. It is doing him, 
 however, but justice to mention that he received and treated us 
 with the greatest affection and kindness, and, as far as he was aV^le, 
 endeavoured to make us forget the grievous mortifications we had 
 undergone. After an interval of a few months, my wife was 
 brought to bed of a girl, a circumstance which, if possible, increased 
 my love for her a thousand fold; but our tranquillity was again 
 broken in upon by a most terrible event. On the 16th October, 
 1786, the house was broken open by a gang of robbers, to the 
 number r>f six, 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 
 villauy 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 pre- 
 cipitation, leaving the house sucli a scene of horror and confusion 
 as can hardly be imagined. With regard to myself, it is impossible 
 to conceive what I suftered. As it was early in the night, I 
 happened to be in the court-yard, 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 ray 
 apprehensions for my wife had so totally absorbed the whole of 
 my mind, that my own existence was then the least of my concern. 
 When the villains, including my sentry, ran off, I scrambled on 
 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 v/hich I was tied, 
 in a transport of ngony 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 
 
i4 LIFE OF 
 
 bad tlie coarage to return alone, and, in the dark, to find me out; 
 n(it knowing but slic might again fall into the hands of the vilhiins, 
 from whom she had scarcely escaped, or that I might be lying a 
 lifeless carcase at the threshold. I can imagine no greater effort 
 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. Of all the adven- 
 tures wherein I have been hitherto engaged, this, undoubtedly, 
 was the most horrible. It makes me shudder even now to think 
 of it. It Vv'as some consolation that none of us sustained any 
 personal injury, except my father, whom one of the villains scarred 
 on the side of the head with a knife : they respected the w^omen, 
 whose danger made my only fear; and one of them had even the 
 humanity to carry our little daughter from her cradle where she 
 lay screaming, and to place her beside my wife on the bed, whereon 
 she was tied with my mother and sister. This terrible scene, 
 besides infinitely distressing us by the heavy loss we sustained, 
 and which my father's circumstances could very ill bear, destroyed, 
 in a great degree our domestic enjoyments. I slept 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, w^e flew 
 to our arms, and in this manner we kept a most painful garrison 
 through the winter. I should observe here, that two of the ruffians 
 being taken in an unsuccessful attempt, within a few days after 
 our robbery, were hanged, and that my father's watch was found 
 on one of them. 
 
 At length, when our affairs were again reduced into some little 
 order, my father supplied me with a small sum of money, which 
 was, however, as much as he could spare, and I set off for London, 
 leaving my wife and daughter with my father, who treated them, 
 during my absence, with great affection. After a dangerous 
 passage to Liverpool, wherein we ran some risk of being h)st, I 
 arrived in London, in January, 1787, and immediately entered my 
 name as a student-at-law on the books of the Middle Temple; but 
 this I may say was all the progress I ever made in that profession. 
 I had no great affection for study in general, but that of the law 
 I particularly disliked; and to this hour I think it an illiberal 
 profession, both in principles and practice. I was, likewise, 
 amenable to nobody for my conduct; and, in consequence, after 
 the first month I never opened a law book, nor was I ever three 
 times in Westminster Hall in my life. In addition to the reasons 
 I have mentioned, the extreme uncertainty of my circumstances, 
 
THEOBALD WOLFE TONE. 25 
 
 "v\'Iiicli kept me in much uneasiness of mind, disabled me totally 
 for that cool and systematic babit of study which is indispensable 
 for attaining a knowledge of a science so abstruse and difficult as 
 that of the English code. However, one way or another, I 
 contrived to make it out. I had chambers in the Temple (No. 4 
 Hare Court, on the first floor), and whatever difficulties I had 
 otherwise to struggle with, I contrived always to preserve the 
 appearance of a gentleman, and to maintain my rank with my 
 fellow-students, if I can call myself a student. One resource I 
 derived from the exercise cf my talents, such as they were. I 
 wrote several articles for the European Magazine, mostly critical 
 reviews of new publications. My reviews were but poor per- 
 formances enough; however, they were in general as good as those 
 of my brother critics; and in two years I received, I suppose, 
 about ^50 sterling for my writings, which was my main object; 
 for, as to literary fame, I had no great ambition to attain it. I 
 likewise, in conjunction with two of my friends, named Jebb and 
 Radcliff, wrote a burlesque novel, which we called " Belmont 
 Castle," and was intended to ridicule the execrable trash of the 
 circulating libraries. It was tolerably well done, particularly 
 Eadcliff's part, which was by far the best; yet so it was that we 
 could not find a bookseller who would risk the printing it, though 
 we offered the copyright gratis to several. It was afterwards 
 printed in Dublin, and had some success, though I believe, after 
 all, it was most relished by the authors, and their immediate 
 connections. 
 
 At the Temple I became intimate with several young men of 
 situation and respectability, particularly with the Hon. George 
 Knox, son of Lord Northland, with whom I formed a frienJship 
 of which I am as proud as of any circumstance in my life. He is 
 a man of inappreciable merit, and loved to a degree of enthusiasm 
 by all who have the happiness to know him. I scarcely know 
 any person whose esteem and approbation I covet so much; and 
 I had, long after the commencement of our acquaintance, when I 
 was in circumstances of peculiar and trying difficulty, and deserted 
 by many of my former friends, the unspeakable consolation and 
 support of finding George Knox still the same, and of preserving 
 his esteem unabated. His steady friendship on that occasion I 
 fchall mention in its place; it has niade an indelible impression of 
 gratitude and affection on my heart. I likewise renewed an old 
 college acquaintance with John Hall, who, by different accessions 
 to his fortune, was now at the head of about c£l-i,000 sterling 
 a-3"ear. He had changed his name twice, for two estates: first to 
 that of Stevenson, and then to Wharton, which is his prcseut 
 
26 LIFE OF 
 
 name. He wris then a, member of the British Parliament, and to 
 his friendship I wi\s indebted for the sum of £150 sterling, at a 
 time when I was under great pecuniary difficulties. Another old 
 college friend I recall with sentiments of sincere affection, Benjamin 
 Phipps, of Cork. He kept a kind of bachelor's house, with good 
 wine, and an excellent collection of books (riot law hoolis). all 
 which were as much at- my command as at his. With some 
 oddities, which to mc only rendered him more amusing, he had a 
 great fund of information, particularly of political detail; and in 
 his company I spent some of the pleasantest hours which I passed 
 in London. 
 
 At length, after I had been at the Temple something better 
 than a year, my brother William, who was returned a few months 
 before from his first expedition to St Helena, joined nie, and we 
 lived together in the greatest amity and affection for about nine 
 months, being the remainder of my stay in London. At this 
 distance of time, now eight years, I feel my heart swell at the 
 recollection of the happy hours we spent together. We were often 
 without a guinea, but that never affected our spirits for a moment; 
 and if ever I felt myself oppressed by some untoward circumstance. 
 I had a never-failing resource and consolation in his friendship, 
 his courage, and the invincible gaiety of his disposition, which 
 nothing could raffle. With the companionable qualities he 
 possessed, it is no wonder that he recommended himself to Ben. 
 Phipps, so that he was soon, I believe, a greater favourite with 
 him than even I was. They were inseparable. It fills my mind 
 now with a kind of tender melancholy, which is not unpleasing, 
 to recali the hiany delightful days we three have spent together, 
 and the walks we have taken, sometimes to a review; sometimes 
 to see a ship of war launched; sometimes to visit the Indiamen at 
 Deptford, a favourite expedition with Phipps. William, besides his 
 natural gaiety, had an inexhaustible fund of pure Irish humour; I 
 was pretty well myself, and Phipps, like the landlord of the 
 Plercules Pillars, was an excellent third man. In short, we made 
 it out together admirably. As I foresaw by this time that ] 
 should never be Lord Chancellor, and as my mind was naturally 
 active, a scheme occurred to me, to the maturing of which ] 
 devoted some time and study. This was a proposal to the 
 minister to establish a colony in one of Cook's newly discovered 
 islands in the South Sea on a military plan, for all my ideas ran 
 in that track, in order to put a bridle on Spain in time of peace, 
 and to annoy her grievously in that quarter in time of war. In 
 arranging this system, which I think even now was a good one 
 for England, I read every book I could find relating to South 
 
THEOBALD WOLFE TONE. 27 
 
 America, as Ulloa, Anson, Dampierre, Woodes, Rogers, Narborougb, 
 and especkiUy the buccaniers, who were my heroes, and whom I 
 proposed to myself as the archetypes of the future colonists. 
 Many and many a delightful evening did my brother, Phipps, and 
 I spend in reading, writing, and talking of my project, in which, 
 if it had been adopted, it was our firm resolution to have embarked. 
 At length, when we had reduced it into a regular shape, I drev/ 
 up a memorial on the subject, which I addressed to Mr Pitt, and 
 delivered with my own hands to the porter in Downing Street. 
 ^ye waited, I will not say patiently, for about ten days, w^hen I ad- 
 dressed a letter to the minister, mentioning my memorial, and 
 praying an answer, but this application was as unsuccessful as the 
 former. ]\Ir Pitt took not the smallest notice of either memorial 
 or letter; and all the benefit we reaped from our scheme w^as the 
 amusement it afforded us during three months, wherein it was 
 the subject of our constant speculation. I regret these delightful 
 reveries which then occupied my mind. It was my first essay in 
 W'hat I may call politics, and my disappointment made such an 
 impression on me as is not yet quite obliterated. In my anger I 
 made something like a vow, that, if ever I had an opportunity, I 
 would make Mr Pitt sorry, and perhaps fortune may yet enable 
 me to fulfil that resolution. It was about this time I had a very 
 fortunate escape: my affairs were exceedingly embarrassed, and 
 just at a moment when my mind was harassed and sore with my own 
 vexations, I received a letter from my father, filled with complaints, 
 and a description of the ruin of his circumstances, which I after- 
 wards found w\is much exaggerated. In a transport of rage I 
 determined to enlist as a soldier in the 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. My brother combated this desperate resolution 
 by every argument in his power; but at length, when he saw me 
 determined, he declared I should not go alone, and that he would 
 share my fate to the last extremity. In this gloomy state of mind, 
 deserted as we thought by gods and men, we set out together for 
 the India House, in Leadenhall Street, to offer ourselves as 
 volunteers; but on our arrival there, we were informed that the 
 season was parsed, that no more ships would be sent out that 
 year; but that, if we returned about the month of jMarch following, 
 we miiiht be received. The clerk to whom we addressed ourselves 
 seemed not a little surprised at two young fellows of our appear- 
 ance presenting ourselves on such a business, for we were 
 extremely well dressed; and William, who was spokesman for us 
 both, had an excellent address. Thus were we stopped, and I 
 
^S LIFE 0^ 
 
 believe we were the siiwle instance, since the bednninc!; of tlid 
 world, of two men, absolutely bent on ruining themselves, who 
 ^ould not find the means. We returned to my chambers, and, 
 desperate as were our fortunes, we could not help laugliing at the 
 circumstance that India, the great gulf of all undone beings, 
 should be shut against us alone. Had it been the month of March 
 instead of September, we should infallibly have gone off; and, in 
 that case, I should most probably, at this hour, be carrying a 
 brown musket on the coast of Coromandel. Providence, however, 
 decreed it otherwise, and reserved me, as I hope, for better things. 
 I had been now two years at the Temple, and had kept eight 
 terms, that is to say, I had dined three days in each term in the 
 common hall. As to law, I knew exactly as much about it as I 
 did of necromancy. It became, however, necessary to think of 
 my return, and, in consequence, I made application, through a 
 friend, to my wife's grandfather, to learn his intentions as to her 
 fortune. He exerted himself so effectually in our behalf that the 
 old gentleman consented to give £500 immediately, and expressed 
 a wish for my immediate return. In consequence, I packed up 
 directly, and set off, with my brother, for Ireland. We landed at 
 Dublin the 23d December, and on Christmas day, 1788, arrived 
 at my father's house at Blackball, where I had the satisfaction to 
 find all my family in health, except my wife, who was grown 
 delicate, principally from the anxiety of her mind on the uncertainty 
 of her situation. Oar little girl was now between two and three 
 years old, and was charming. After remaining a few days at 
 Blackhall, we came up to Dublin, and were received, as at first, in 
 Grafton Street, by my wife's family. Mr Fanning paid me 
 punctually the sum he had promised; and my wife and I both 
 flattered ourselves that all past animosities were forgotten; and 
 that the reconciliation was as sincere on their parts as it most 
 assuredly was on ours. I now took lodgings in Clarendon Street, 
 purchased about .£100 worth of law books, and determined, in 
 earnest, to begin and study the profession to which I was doomed. 
 In pursuance of this resolution, I commenced bachelor of laws in 
 February, 1789, and was called to the bar in due form in Trinity 
 term following; shortly after which I went my first (the Leinster) 
 circuit, having been previously elected a member of the Bar Club. 
 On this circuit, notwithstanding my ignorance, I pretty nearly 
 cleared my expenses; and I cannot doubt, if I had continued to 
 apply sedulously to the law, but I might have risen to some 
 eminence: but, whether it was my incorrigible habits of idleness, 
 the sincere dislike I had to the profession, which the little insight I 
 was beginning to get into it did not tend to remove, or whether it 
 
THEOBALD WOLFE TONE. 29 
 
 was a controlling destiny, I know not; but so it wn.% that 1 soon 
 got sick and weary of the law. I continued, however, for form's 
 sake, to go to the courts, and wear a foolish wig and gown, for a 
 considerable time; and I went tlie circuit, I believe, in all, three 
 times; but as I was, modestly speaking, one of the most ignorant 
 ba\'risters in the four courts, and as I took little, or rather no pains 
 to conceal my contempt and dislike of the profession, and 
 especially as I had neither the means nor the inclination to treat 
 messieurs the attorneys, and to make them drink (a sacrifice of 
 their respectability which even the most liberal-minded of tlie 
 profession are obliged to make), I made, as may well be supposed, 
 HO great exhibition at the Irish bar. 
 
 I had not been long a counsellor, when the coup de grace was 
 given to my father's affairs by a decree in chancery, which totally 
 ruined him; this was in a lawsuit between him and his brother, 
 who was lieutenant of grenadiers in the 22d regiment. During 
 the whole of this business I obstinately refused to take any pirt, 
 not thinking it decent to interfere where the parties were both so 
 nearly allied to me. When, however, my father was totally 
 ruined, I thought it my duty, as it was most certainly my inclina- 
 tion, to assist him, even to distressing myself, a sacrifice which tho 
 great pains and expense he had bestowed on my education well 
 merited. I, in consequence, strained every nerve to preserve a 
 remnant of his property; but his affairs were too desperate, and I 
 w^as myself too poor to relieve him effectually; so that after one 
 or two ineffectual efforts, by which I lost considerably with 
 reference to my means, without essentially serving him, vre were 
 obliged to submit; and the last of his property, consisting of two 
 houses, one in Stafford Street, and one on Summer Hill, were sold 
 much under their value, to men who took advantas;e of our neces- 
 sities, as is always the case. Soon after he had the good fortune 
 to obtain a place under the Paving Board, which he yet retains, 
 and which secures him a decent, though moderate independence. 
 
 As the law grew every day more and more disgustful, to which 
 my want of success contributed; though in that respect I never 
 liad the injustic to accuse the world of insensibility to my merit, 
 as I well knew the fiiult was my own; but being, as I said, more 
 and more weary of a profession for which my temper and habits 
 so utterly disqualified me, I turned my attention to politics, and, 
 as one or two of my friends had written pamphlets with success, I 
 determined to try my hand on a pamphlet. Just at this period 
 the ^Yhig Club was instituted in Ireland, and the press groaned 
 with publications against them on the part of government. Two 
 or three defences had likewise appeared, but none of them extra- 
 
30 LIFE OF 
 
 ordinary. Under these circumstances, thongli I vvas very far from 
 entirely approving the system of the Whig Ckib, and much less 
 their principles and motives, yet, seeing them at the time the best 
 constituted political body which the country afforded, and agreeing 
 v.'ith most of their positions, though my own private opinions went 
 infinitely farther, I thought I could venture on their defence 
 without violating my own consistency. I therefore sat down, and 
 in a few days finished my first pamphlet, which I entitled 
 " A Review of the last Session of Parliaipent ! " To speak 
 candidly of this performance, it was barely above mediocrity, 
 if it rose so high; nevertheless, as it was written evidently 
 on honest principles, and did not censure or flatter one 
 party or the other, without assigning sufficient reason, it had a 
 certain degree of success. The Northern Whig Club reprinted 
 and distributed a large impression at their own expense, with an 
 introduction highly complimentary to the author, whom, at that 
 time, they did not even know; and a very short time after, v.'hen 
 it was known that the production was mine, they did me the 
 honour to elect me a member of their body, which they notified to 
 me by a very handsome letter, signed by their Secretary, Henry 
 Joy, Jun. of Belfast, and to which I returned a suitable answer. 
 But this vv^as not all. The leaders of the Whig Club, conceiving 
 my talents, such as they were, might be of service to their cause; 
 and not expecting much intractability from a young lawyer, who 
 had his fortune to make, sent a brother barrister to compliment 
 me on my performance, and to thank me for the zeal and ability 
 I had shown. I was, in consequence, introduced to George 
 Ponsonby, a distinguished member of the body, and who might be 
 considered as the leader of the Irish opposition; with him, how- 
 ever, I never had any communication further than ordinary civilities. 
 Shortly after, the barrister above-mentioned spoke to me again; 
 he told me the Ponsonbys were a most powerful fiimily in Ireland ; 
 that they were much pleased with my exertion, and wished, in 
 consequence, to attach me to them ; that I should be employed as 
 counsel on a petition then pending before the House of Commons, 
 which would put a hundred guineas in my pocket, and that I 
 should have professional business put in my way, from time to 
 time, that should produce me at least as much per annum; he 
 added, that they were then, it was true, out of place, but that they 
 would not be always so; and that on their return to office, their 
 friends, when out of power, would naturally be first considered; 
 he likewise observed, that they had influence, direct or indirect, 
 over no less than two and twenty seats in Parliament; and he in- 
 sinuated pretty plainly, that when we were better acquainted it 
 
THEOBALD WOLFE TONE. 31 
 
 was liiglily probable I might come in on one of the first vacanoies. 
 All this was highly flattering to me, the more so as my wife's 
 fortune was now nearly exhausted, partly by oar inevitable 
 expenses, and partly by my unsiiccessiijl efibrts to extricate my 
 father. I did, it was true, not much relish the attaching my- 
 self to any great man or set of men; but I considered, as I have 
 said before, that the principles they advanced were such as I could 
 conscientiously support, so far as they went, though mine went 
 much beyond them. I therefore thought there was no dishonour 
 in the proposed connexion; and I v>'as certainly a little dazzled 
 with the prospect of a s:at in Parliament, at vrhich my ambitiuu 
 began to expand. I signified, in consequence, my readiness to 
 attach myself to the Whigs, and I was instantly retained in the 
 petition for the borough of Dungarvan, on the part of James 
 Carrigee Ponsonby, Esq. 
 
 I now looked upon myself as a sort of political character, and 
 began to suppose that the House of Commons, and not the bar, v'fas 
 to be the scene of my future exertions; but in this I reckoned like 
 a sanguine young man. Month after month elapsed without any 
 communication on the part of George Ponsouby, whom I looked 
 upon as most immediately my object. He always spoke to me, 
 when we met by chance, with great civility, but I observed thj^S 
 he never mentioned one word of politics. I therefore at last con- 
 cluded that he had changed his mind, or that, on a nearer view, 
 be had found my want of capacity; in short, I gave up all thoughts 
 of the connexion, and determined to trouble myself no more about 
 Ponsonby or the Whigs, and I calculated that as I had written a 
 pamphlet which they thought had served them, and as they had 
 in consequence employed me professionally in a business which 
 produced me eighty guineas, accounts were balanced on both sides, 
 and all fiirther connexion was at an end. But my mind had now 
 got a turn for politics. I thought I had at last found ray element, 
 and I plunged into it with eagerness. A closer examination into 
 the situation of my native country had very considerably extended 
 iny views; and as I was sincerely and honestly attached to her 
 interests, I soon found reason not to regret that the Whigs had 
 not thought me an object worthy of their cultivation. I made 
 speedily what was to me a great discovery, though I might have 
 found it in Swift and Molyneux, that the influence of England 
 was the radical vice of our government; and consequently that 
 Ireland would never be either free, prosperous, or happy, until she 
 was independent, and that independence was unattainable whilst 
 the connexion with England existed. In forming this theory, 
 which has ever since unvaryingly directed my political conduct, 
 
33 LIFE OF 
 
 to wliicli I Lave sacrificed everything, and am ready to sicrifica 
 my life if necessary, I was exceedingly assisted by an old friend of 
 mine, Sir Lawrence Parsons, wliom I look upon as one of the very, 
 very few honest men in the Irish Plouse of Commons. It was he 
 who first turned my attention on this great question, but I very 
 soon ran far ahead of my master. It is, in fact, to him I am in- 
 debted for the first comprehensive view of the actual situation of 
 Ireland: what his conduct miaht be in a crisis I know not, but I 
 can answer for the truth and justice of his theory. I now 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 I rejoiced that, if I was poor, as I actually was, 
 I had preserved my independence, and could speak my sentiments 
 without being responsible to any body but the law. 
 
 An occasion soon offered to give vent to my newly received 
 opinions. On the appearance of a rupture with Spain, I wrote 
 a pamphlet to prove that Ireland was not bound by the declaration 
 of war; but might, and ought, as an independent nation, to 
 stipulate for a neutrality. In examining this question, I advanced 
 the question of separation, with scarcely any reserve, much less 
 disguise; but the public mind was by no means so far advanced as 
 I was, and my pamphlet made not the smallest impression. The 
 day after it appeared, as I stood perdue in the bookseller's shop), 
 listening after my own reputation. Sir Henry Cavendish, a 
 notorious slave of the House of Commons, entered, and throwing 
 my unfortunate pamphlet on the counter in a rage, exclaimed : 
 " Mr Byrne, if the author of that work is serious, he ought to be 
 hanged." Sir Henry was succeeded by a bishop, an English 
 doctor of divinity, with five or six thousand a-year, laboriously 
 earned in the church. His lordship's anger was not much less 
 than that of the other personage. ** Sir," said he, '' if the 
 principles contained in that abominable work were to spread, do 
 you know that you would have to pay for your coals at the rate of 
 five pounds per ton 1 " Notwithstanding these criticisms, which I 
 have faithfully quoted against myself, I continue to think my 
 pamphlet a good one; but apparently the publisher, Mr Byrne, 
 was of a different opinion, for I have every reason to believe that 
 he suppressed the whole impression, " for which his own gods 
 damn him." 
 
 Shortly after the premature end of my second pamphlet, which. 
 I have recorded, and which did not, however, change my opinion 
 on its merit, for " Victrix causa Diis placuit, sed victa Catoni," we 
 came to an open rupture with my wife's family. It in"* not my in- 
 tention to enter on this subject. One circumstance is sufficient to 
 
THEOBALD WOLFE TONE. 3 
 
 o 
 
 prove that the breach was not of our seeking, viz., that we had 
 every thing to h>se and nothing to gain by a quarrel 
 
 About this time it was that I formed an acquaintance with my 
 invahiable friend Russell, a circumstance which I look upon as one 
 of the most fortunate of my life. He is <a man whom I love as a 
 brother. I will not here attempt a panegyric of his merits; 
 it is sufficient to say, that, to an excellent understanding, he joins 
 the purest principles and the best of hearts. I wish I had ability 
 to delineate his character with justice to his talents and his 
 virtues. He well knows how much I esteem and love him, and I 
 think there is no sacrifice that friendship could exact, that we 
 would not with cheerfulness make for each other, to the utmost 
 hazard of life or fortune. There cannot be imagined a more 
 perfect harmony, I may say identity of sentiment, than exists 
 between us; our resrard for each other has never suffered a moment's 
 relaxation from the hour of our first acquaintance, and I am sure 
 it will continue to the end of our lives. I think the better of 
 myself for being the object of the esteem of such a man as Russell. 
 I love him and I honour him. I frame no system of happiness for 
 my future life, in 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 opinions, 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." 
 
 But to return to my history. My acquaintance with Russell 
 commenced by an argument in the gallery of the House of 
 Commons. He was at that time enamoured of the Whigs, but I 
 knew these gentlemen a little better than he, and indeed he did 
 not loner remain under the delusion. We were struck with each 
 other, notwithstanding the difference of our opinions, and we 
 agreed to dine together the next day, in order to discuss the 
 question. We liked each other better the second day than the 
 first, and every day has increased and confirmed our mutual 
 esteem. 
 
 My wife's health continuing still delicate, she was ordered by 
 her physician to bathe in the salt water. I hired, in consequence, 
 
34: LIFE OF 
 
 a little box of a house on the sea-side, at Irishtown, where we 
 spent the summer of 1790. Russell and I were inseparable; and 
 as our discussions were mostly political, and our sentiments agreed 
 exactly, we extended our views, and fortified each other in the 
 opinions, to the propagation and establishment of which we have 
 ever since been devoted. I recall with transport the happy days 
 we spent together 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. It was delightful ! Sometimes Russell's 
 ven^'able father, a veteran of near seventy, with the courage of a 
 hero, the serenity of a philosopher, and the piety of a saint, used 
 to visit our little mansion, and that day was a fete. My wife 
 doated on the old man, and he loved her like one of his children. 
 I will not attempt, because I am unable, to express the veneration 
 and regard I had for him; and I am sure, that next to his own 
 sons, and scarcely below them, he loved and esteemed me. 
 Russell's brother, John, too, used to visit us; a man of a most 
 warm and affectionate heart, and incontestibly of the most com- 
 panionable talents I ever met. His humour, which was pure and 
 natural, flowed in an inexhaustible stream. He had not the 
 strength of character of my friend Tom, but for the charms of 
 conversation he excelled him and all the world. Sometimes too, 
 my brother William used to join us for a week, from the county 
 Kildare, where he resided with my brother Matthew, who had 
 lately commenced a cotton manufactory at Prosperous in that 
 county. I have already mentioned the convivial talents he 
 possessed. In short, when the two Russells, my brother, and 
 I, were assembled, it is impossible to conceive of a happier 
 society. I know not whether our wit was perfectly classical or 
 not, nor does it signify. If it was not sterling, at least it passed 
 current amongst ourselves. If I may judge, we were none of us 
 destitute of the humour indigenous in the soil of Ireland; for 
 three of us I can answer, they possessed it in an eminent degree; 
 add to this, I was the only one of the four 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 know which of us loved her best; her 
 
THEOSALD WOLFE TONE. 35 
 
 courteous manners, her goodness of heart, her incomparable 
 Jiuniour, her never-failing cheerfulness, her afTection 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. 
 
 During the course of this summer, there were strong appearances 
 of a rupture between England and Spain, relative to Nootka 
 Sound. I had mentioned to Russell my project for a military 
 colony in the South Seas; and, as we had nothing better to do, 
 we sat down to look over my papers and memorandums regarding 
 that business. After some time, rather to amuse ourselves than 
 with an expectation of its coming to anything, we enlarged and 
 corrected my original plan: and having dressed up a handsome 
 memorial on the subject, I sent it enclosed in a letter to the Duke 
 (if Richmond, then master of the ordnance. I thought I should 
 lioir no more about it, but was not a little surprised when, a few 
 days after, I received an answer from his Grace, in which, after 
 speaking with great civility of the merits of my plan, he informed 
 me such business was out of his department; but that if I desired 
 it, he would deliver my memorial, and recommend it to the notice 
 of Lord Grenville, secretary of state for foreign affiiirs, whose 
 business it properly was. I immediately wrote him an answer of 
 acknowledgment, entreating him to support my plan; and by the 
 same post, I wrote also to Lord Grenville. In a few days I 
 received answers fron-i them both, informing me that the memorial 
 had been received by Lord Grenville, and should be taken into 
 speedy considenition, when, if any measures w^ere to be adopted in 
 consequence, I might depend on receiving farther information. 
 These letters we looked upon as leaving it barely possible that 
 something might be done in the business, though very unlikely; 
 and so indeed it proved, for shortly after, a kind of peace, called 
 a convention, was agreed upon between Spain and England, on 
 which I wrote once more to Lord Grenville, enclosing a second 
 memorial, in order to learn his determination, when I received a 
 very civil answer, praising my plan, etc., and informing me that 
 existing circumstances had rendered it unnecessary, at that time, 
 to put it in execution, but that ministers would keep it in 
 recollection. Thus ended, for the second time, my attempt 
 to colonize in the South Seas; a measure which I still think 
 might be attended with the most beneficial consequences to 
 England. I keep all the papers relating to this business, including 
 the originals of the minister's letters, and I have likewise copied 
 
36 * LIFE OP 
 
 the wliole of them in a quarto book, to which I refer for farther 
 information. It was singuhir enough, this correspondence, con- 
 tinued by two of the king of England's cabinet ministers at St 
 James's, on the one part, and Russell and myself, from my little box 
 at Irishtown, on the other. If the measure I proposed had been 
 adopted, we were both determined on going out with the expedi- 
 tion; in which case, instead of planning revolutions in our own 
 country, we might be now, perhaps, carrying on a privateering 
 war (for which I think we have both talents) on the coast of 
 Spanish America, This adventure is an additional proof of the 
 romantic spirit I have mentioned in the beginning of my memoirs, 
 as a trait in our family; and, indeed, my friend Russell was, in 
 that respect, completely one of ourselves. The minister's refusal 
 did not sweeten us much towards him. I renewed the vow I had 
 once before made, to make him, if I could, repent of it, in which 
 Russell most heartily concurred. Perhaps the minister may yet 
 have reason to wish he had let us go off quietly to the Soutli Seas. 
 I should be glad to have an opportunity to remind him of his old 
 correspondent, and if I ever find one, I will not overlook it. I 
 dare say he has utterly forgot the circumstance, but I have not. 
 *' Every thing, however, is for the best," as Pangloss says, ''in this 
 best of all possible worlds." If I had gone to the Sandwich 
 Islands in 1790, I should not be to-day chef de brigade in the 
 service of the French republic, not to mention what I may be in 
 my own country if our expedition thither succeeds. 
 
 But to return. Shortly after this disappointment, Russell, who 
 had for two or three years revelled in the ease and dignity of an 
 ensign's half pay, amounting to £28 sterling a-year, which he had 
 earned before he was twenty-one, by broiling in the East Indies 
 for five years,, was unexpectedly promoted by favour of the 
 commander-in-chief to an ensigncy on full pay, in the Gith 
 regiment of foot, then quartered in the town of Belfast. He put 
 himself, in consequence, in battle array, and prepared to join. I 
 remember the last day he dined with us in Irishtown, where he 
 came, to use his own quotation, "all clinquant, all in gold !" We set 
 him to cook partof the dinner in a very fine suit of laced regimentals. 
 I love to recall those scenes. We parted with the sincerest regret 
 on both sides; he set off for Belfast, and shortly after we returned 
 to town for the winter ; my wife's health being perfectly re- 
 established, as she manifested by being, in due time, brought to 
 bed of our eldest boy, whom we called William, after my brother. 
 
 This winter I endeavoured to institute a kind of political club, 
 from which I expected great things. It consisted of seven or 
 'jight members, eminent for their talents and patriotism, and who 
 
THEOBALD WOLFE TONE. 57 
 
 Lad already more or less distinguished tliemsclves by their literary 
 productions. They were John Staclc, fellow of Trinity Ci)llegG ; 
 Dr Wm. Drennan, author of the celebrated letters signed OreJIana; 
 Joseph Pollock,' author of the still more justly celebrated letters of''' 
 Owen Roe O'Neil; Peter Burrowes, a barrister, a man of a most 
 powerful and comprehensive mind; William Johnson, a lawyer, 
 also of respectable talents; Whitley Stokes, a fellow of Trinity 
 College, a man, the extent and variety of whose knowledge is only 
 to be exceeded by the number and intensity of his virtues; Russell, 
 a corresponding member, and myself. As our political opinions, 
 at that time, agreed in most essential points, however they may 
 have since differed, and as this little club most certainly comprised 
 a great pro^jortion of information, talents, and integrity, it might 
 naturally' be expected that some distinguished publications should 
 be the result; yet, I know not how it was, we did not draw well 
 together; our meetings degenerated into downright ordinary 
 sui)pers ; we became a mere oyster club ; and, at length, a mis- 
 understanding, or rather a rooted dislike to each other, which 
 manifested itself be! ween Drennan and Pollock (who were com- 
 pletely Caesar and Pompey with regard to literary empire), joined 
 to the retreat of John Stack, to his living in the North, and the 
 little good we saw resulting from our association, induced us to 
 drop off one by one; and thus, after three or four months of sickly 
 existence, our club departed this life, leaving behind it a puny off- 
 spring of about a dozen essays on different subjects, all, as may be 
 supposed, tolerable, but not one of any distinguished excellence. 
 I am satisfied, any one of the members, by devoting a week of his 
 time to a well-chosen subject, would have produced a work of ten 
 times more value than the whole club were able to show from their 
 joint labours during its existence. This experiment satisfied me 
 that men of genius, to be of use, must not be collected in numbers. 
 They do not work well in the aggregate, and, indeed, even in 
 ordinary conversation?, I have observed th-at two many wits spoil 
 the discourse. The dullest entertainment at which I ever remem- 
 ber to have assisted was one formed expressly to bring together 
 near twenty persons, every one more or less distinguished for 
 splendid talents, or great convivial qualities. We sat and prosed 
 together in great solemnity, endeavouring, by a rapid circulation 
 of the bottle, to animate the discourse, but it would not do ; every 
 man was clad in a suit of intellectual armour, in which he found 
 himself secure, it is true, but ill at his ease; and we all rejoiced at 
 the moment when we were permitted to run home and get into 
 our robes de charabre and slippers. Any two of the men present 
 would have been the delight and entertainment of a well-chosen 
 
38 LIFE OF 
 
 society, but all together vvn's, as Wolsey says, "too mucli 
 honour." * 
 
 In recording the names of the membt>rs of the club, I find I 
 have strangely omitted the name of a man whom, as well for his 
 talents as his principles, I esteem as much as any, far more tiian 
 most of them, I mean'Thomas Addis Emmet, a barrister. He is 
 a man completely after ray own heart — of a great and compre- 
 hensive mind — of the warmest and sincerest affection for his friends 
 — and of a firm and 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 
 classing the men I most esteem, I would place him beside Russfill, 
 at the head of the list; because with regard to them both, the 
 most ardent feelings of my heart coincide exactly with the most 
 severe decision of my judgment. There are men whom I regard 
 as much as it is possible. I am sure, for example, if there be on 
 earth such a thing as sincere friendship, I feel it for Whitley Stokes, 
 for George Knox, and for Peter Burrowes. They are men whose 
 talents I admire, whose virtues I reverence, and whose persons I 
 love; but the regard which I feel for them, sincere and affectionate 
 as it is, is certainly not of the same species with that which I 
 entertain for Russell and Emmet. Between us there has been, 
 from the very commencement of our acquaintance, a coincidence 
 of sentiment, a harmony of feelings on points which we all 
 conscientiously consider of the last importance, which binds us in 
 the closest ties to each other. We have unvaryingly been devoted 
 to the same object, by the same means — we have hnd a fellowship 
 in our labours — a society in our dangers — our hopes, our fears, oar 
 wishes, our friends, and our enemies, have been the same. When 
 all this is considered, and the talents and principles of the men 
 taken into the account, it will not be wondered at, if I esteem 
 Russell and Emmet as the first of my friends. If ever an oppor- 
 
 * A^ofe hy the Editor oj the First Edition. — About this time, whilst his ideas on the 
 evils resulting from the connexion with Britain were fermenting in liis mind, my father 
 wrote a letter to his friend Russell, where he expanded upon them, and concluded, "Such 
 and such men (mentioning his friends and associates in the club) think with nie." This 
 very innocent paper produced about two years afterwards, in 1793, a most ridiculous alarm 
 and disturhrmce. It would not have been noticed, at the time it was written, more tiian 
 those pamphlets which were published; but then, when the political fever raged at the 
 highest, and when it was already forgotten by himself and his friends, it fell by some 
 chance cr indiscretion into the hands of the government. The gentlemen mentioned, 
 many of whom had since espoused the part of the administration, were all suminoneil 
 before the Secret Committee. For that most illegal tribunal, the Star Chamber of Ireland, 
 assumed the power of examining any suspected individuals on the opinions, as well as the 
 actions, of themselves and others; putting them on their oath to answer all their questions, 
 and imprisoning them arbitrarily. On this occasion these gentlemen were charged with 
 being privy not only to a theoretical disquisition, but to a deep conspiracy against the 
 government, as far back as the year 1791. It is, however, remarkable, that my father was 
 not called before them. Perhaps he was deemed incorrigible. 
 
THEOBALD WOLFE TONE. 39 
 
 tunity offers, as circumstances at present seem likel}^ to bring 
 forward, I tliink their country will ratify my choice. With regard 
 to Burrowes and Knox, whom I do most sincerely and affectionately 
 love, their political opinions differ fundamentally from mine; and 
 perhaps it is for the credit of us all three, that, with such an 
 irreconcilable difference of sentiment, we have all along preserved 
 a mutual regard and esteem for each other; at least, I am sure I 
 feel it particularly honourable to myself, for there are, perhaps, no 
 two men in the world about whose good opinion I am more solicit- 
 ous. Nor shall I soon forget the steady and unvarying friendship 
 I experienced from them both, when my situation was to all human 
 appearance utterly desperate; and when others, with at least as 
 little reason to desert me, shunned me, as if I had the red spots 
 of the plague out on me — but of that hereafter. With regard to 
 Whitley Stokes, his political opinions approach nearer to mine thtin 
 those of either Knox or Burrowes. I mention this, for in these 
 days of unbounded discussion, politics unfortunately enter into 
 every thing, even into our private friendships. We, however, differ 
 on many material points; and we differ on principles which do 
 honour to Stokes's heart. With an acute feeling of the degrada- 
 tion of his country, and a just and generous indignation against 
 her oppressors, the tenderness and humanity of his disposition is 
 such, that he recoils from any measures to be attempted for her 
 emancipation which may terminate in blood : in this respect I have 
 not the virtue to imitate him. I must observe that, with this 
 perhaps extravagant anxiety for the lives of others, I am sure in 
 any cause which satisfied his conscience, no man would be more 
 prodigal of his own life than Whitley Stokes, for he is an 
 enthusiast in his nature, but "what he would highly that would 
 he holily;" and I am afraid that in the present state of affairs, that 
 is a thing impossible. I love Stokes most sincerely. With a most 
 excellent and highly cultivated mind, he possesses the distinguishing 
 characteristic of the best and most feeling heart; and I am sure it 
 will not hurt the self-love of any of the friends whose names I have 
 recorded, when I say that in the full force of the phrase, I look 
 upon Whitley Stokes as the very best man I have ever known. 
 Now that I am upon this subject, I must observe that in the 
 choice of my friends I have been all my life extremely fortunate ; 
 I hope I am duly sensible of the infinite value of their esteem, and 
 I take the greatest pride in being able to say that I have preserved 
 that esteem, even from those from whom I most materially differed 
 on points of the last importance, and on occasions of peculiar 
 difiiculty; and this too without any sacrifice of consistency or 
 principle on either side; a circumstance which, however, redounds 
 
40 LIFE OF 
 
 still more to their credit than to mine. Bat to return to my 
 history from this long digression, on which, however, I dwell with 
 affection, exiled as I am from the inestimable friends I have 
 mentioned, it is a consolation to my soul to dvv'ell upon their 
 merits, and the sincere and animated affection I feel for them. 
 God knows whether we shall ever meet; or if we do, how many of 
 us may survive the contest in which we are, by all appearance, 
 about to embark. If it be my lot, for one, to fall, I leave behind 
 me this small testimony of my regard for them, written under 
 circumstances which I think may warrant its sincerity. 
 
 The French Kevolution had now been above a twelvemonth in 
 its progress. At its commencement, as the first emotions are 
 generally honest, every one was in its favour; but after some time, 
 the probable consequences to monarchy and aristocracy began to 
 be foreseen, and the partizans of both to retrench considerably in 
 their admiration: at length, Mr Burke's famous invective appeared; 
 and this in due season produced Paine's reply, which he called 
 *' Rights of Man." This controversy, and the gigantic event which 
 gave rise to it, changed in an instant the politics of Ireland. Two 
 years before the nation was in a lethargy. The puny efforts of 
 the Whig Club, miserable and defective as their system was, were 
 the only appearance of anything like exertion; and he was looked 
 on as extravagant who thought of a Parliamentary reform, against 
 which, by-the-by, all parties equally set their face. ' I have 
 already mentioned, that in those days of apathy and depression, I 
 made an unsuccessful blow at the supremacy of England, by my 
 pamphlet on the expected rupture with Spain; and I have also 
 fairly mentioned that I found nobody who ventured to second 
 my attempt, or paid the least attention to the doctrine I en- 
 deavoured to disseminate. But the rapid succession of events, 
 and, above all, the explosion which had taken place in France, and 
 blown into the elements a despotism rooted for fourteen centuries, 
 had thoroughly aroused all Europe; and the eyes of every man, in 
 every quarter, were turned anxiously on the French National 
 Assembly. In England, Burke had the triumph completely to 
 decide the public; fascinated by an eloquent publication, which 
 flattered so many of their prejudices, and animated by their un- 
 conquerable hatred of France, which no change of circumstances 
 could alter, the whole English nation, it may be said, retracted 
 from their first decision in favour of the glorious and successful 
 efforts of the French peoi3le; they sickened at the prospect of the 
 approaching liberty and happiness of that mighty nation: they 
 calculated, as merchants, the probable effects which the energy of 
 regenerated France might have on their commerce; they rejoiced 
 
THEOBA.LD WOLFE TONE. 41 
 
 when they saw the combination of despots formed to restore the 
 ancient system, and perhaps to dismember the monarcliy; and 
 they waited with impatience for an occasion, which happily for 
 mankind they soon found, when they might, with some appearance 
 of decency, engage in person in the infamous contest. 
 
 But matters were very different in Ireland — an oppressed, 
 insulted, and plundered nation. As we well knew experimentally 
 what it was to be enslaved, we sympathised most sincerely with 
 the French people, and watched their progress to freedom with the 
 utmost anxiety; we had not, like England, a prejudice rooted in 
 our very nature against France. As the Revolution advanced, 
 and as events expanded themselves, the public spirit of Ireland 
 rose with a rapid acceleration. The fears and animosities of the 
 aristocracy rose in the same, or a still higher proportion. 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 (epithets borrowed 
 from France), who have ever since been measuring each other's 
 strength, and carrying on a kind of smothered war, which the 
 course of events, it is highly probable, may soon call into energy 
 and action. 
 
 It is needless, I believe, to say that I was a democrat from the 
 very commencement; and as all the retainers of government, 
 including the sages and judges of the law, were of course on the 
 other side, this gave the coup de grace to any expectations, if any 
 such I had, of my succeeding at the bar, for I soon became pretty 
 notorious; but in fact I had for some time renounced all hope, and 
 I may say all desire, of succeeding in a profession which I always 
 disliked, and which the political prostitution of its members 
 (though otherwise men of high honour and of great personal worth) 
 had taught me sincerely to despise. I therefore seldom v/ent near 
 the Four Courts; nor did I adopt any one of the means, and least 
 of all the study of the law, which are successfully employed by 
 those young men whose object it is to rise in their profession. 
 
 As I came about this period rather more forward than I had 
 hitherto done, it is necessary, for understanding my history, to take 
 a rather rapid survey of the state of parties in Ireland, that is to 
 say, of the members of the established religion, the Dissenters and 
 the Catholics. 
 
 The first party, whom for distinction's sake I call the Pro- 
 testants, though not above a tenth of the population, were in 
 possession of the whole of the government, and of five-sixtbs of 
 the landed property of the nation; they were, and had been for 
 above a century, in the quiet enjoyment of the church, the law, 
 
42 LIFE OF 
 
 the revenue, the army, the navy, the magistracy, the corporations 
 — in a word, of the whole patronage of Irehmd. With properties 
 whose title v;as founded in massacre and plunder, and being, as it 
 were, but a colony of foreign usurpers in the land, they saw no 
 security for their persons and estates but in a close connexion with. 
 England, who profited of their fears; and, as the price of her 
 protection, exacted the implicit surrender of the commerce and 
 liberties of Ireland. Different events, particularly the Hevolution 
 in America, had enabled and emboldened the other two parties of 
 whom I am about to speak, to hurry the Protestants into measures 
 highly disagreeable to England and beneficial to their country; 
 but in which, from accidental circumstances, they durst not refuse 
 to concur. The spirit of the corps, however, remained unchanged, 
 as they have manifested on every occasion since which chance has 
 offered. This party, therefore, so powerful by their property and 
 influence, were implicity devoted to England, which they esteemed 
 necessary for the security of their existence; they adopted, in 
 consequence, the sentiments and the language of the British 
 cabinet; they dreaded and abhorred the principles of the French 
 Pievolution, and were, in one word, an aristocracy in the fullest 
 and most odious extent of the term. 
 
 The Dissenters, who formed the second party, were at least 
 twice as numerous as the first. Like them, they were a colony of 
 foreigners in their origin; but being mostly engaged in trade and 
 manufactures, with few overgrown landed proprietors among them, 
 they did not, like them, feel that a slavish dependence on England 
 was essential to their very existence. Strong in their numbers 
 and their courage, they felt that they were able id defend them- 
 selves, and they soon ceased to consider themselves as any other 
 than Irishmen. It was the Dissenters who composed the flower 
 of the famous volunteer army of 1782, which extorted from the 
 English minister the restoration of what is affected to be 
 called the constitution of Ireland; it w\as they who first promoted 
 and continued the demand of a Parliamentary reform, in which, 
 however, they were baffled by a superior address and chicanery 
 of the aristocracy; and it was they finally who were the first to 
 stand forward in the most decided and unqualified manner in 
 support of the principles of the French Revolution. 
 
 The Catholics, vfho composed the third party, were above two- 
 thirds of the nation, and formed, perhaps, a still greater proportion. 
 They embraced the entire peasantry of three provinces, they con- 
 stituted a considerable portion of the mercantile interest; but from 
 the tyranny of the penal laws enacted at different periods against 
 them, they possessed but a very small proportion of the landed 
 
THEOBALD WOLFE TONE. 43 
 
 property, perhaps not a fiftieth part of the whole. It is not my 
 intention here to give a detail of that execrable and infamous cods, 
 framed with the heart and the malice of demons, to plunder, and 
 degrade, and brutalize the Catholics. Suffice it to say, that there 
 was no injustice, no disgrace, no disqualification, moral, political, 
 or religious, civil or militar}'', that was not heaped upon them; it 
 is with difficulty that I restrahi myself from entering into the 
 abominable detail; but it is the less necessary, as it is to be found 
 in so many publications of the day. This horrible system, 
 pursued for above a century with unrelenting acrimony and 
 perseverance, had wrought its full effect, and had, in fact, reduced 
 the great body of the Catholic peasantry of Ireland to a situation, 
 morally and physically speaking, below that of the beasts of the 
 field. The spirit of their few remaining gentry was broken, and 
 their minds degraded; and it was only in a class of their 
 merchants and traders, and a few members of the medical profes- 
 sion, who had smuggled an education in despite of the penal code, 
 that any thing like political sensation existed. Such was pretty 
 nearly the situation of the three great parties at the commencement 
 of the French Revolution, and certainly a much more gloomy 
 prospect could not well present itself to the eyes of any friend to 
 liberty and his country. But as the luminary of truth and freedom 
 in France advanced rapidly to its meridian splendour, the public 
 mind in Ireland was proportionably illuminated; and to the 
 honour of the Dissenters of Belfast be it said, they were the first 
 to reduce to practice their newly received principles, and to show, 
 by being just, that they were deserving to be free. 
 
 The dominion of England in Ireland had been begun and con- 
 tinued in the disunion of the great sects which divided the latter 
 country.* In effectuating this disunion, the Protestant party were 
 the willing instruments, as they saw clearl}^ that if ever the Dis- 
 senters and Catholics were to discover their true interests, and, 
 forgetting their former ruinous dissensions, were to unite cordially, 
 and make common cause, the downfall of English supremacy, and, 
 of course, of their own unjust monopoly, would be the necessary 
 and immediate consequence. They therefore laboured continually, 
 and for a long time successfully, to keep the other two secta 
 asunder; and the English government had even the address to 
 persuade the Catholics that the non-execution of the penal laws, 
 which were, in fact, too atrocious to be enfjrced in their fiVil 
 rigour, was owing to their clemency; that the Protestants and 
 Dissenters, but especially the latter, were the enemies, and them- 
 
 * At least since the reign of Elizabeth and JTames I« 
 
44 LIFE OP 
 
 selves, in effect, the protectors of the Catholic people. Under this 
 arrangement the machine of government moved forward on carpet 
 ground; but the time was at length come when this system of 
 iniquity was to tumble in the dust, and the day of truth and 
 reason to commence. 
 
 So far back as the year 1783, the volunteers of Belfast had 
 instructed their deputies to the convention held in Dublin, for the 
 purpose of framing a plan of Parliamentary reform, to support the 
 equal admission of the Catholics to the rights of freemen. In this 
 instance of liberality they were then almost alone; for it is their 
 fate in political wisdom ever to be in advance of their countrymen; 
 it was sufficient, however, to alarm the government, Vv'ho immedi- 
 ately procured from Lord Kenmare, at that time esteemed the 
 leader of the Catholics, a solemn disavowal, in the name of the 
 body, of any wish to be restored to their long-lost rights. Pros- 
 trate as the Catholics were at that period, this last insult was too 
 much; they instantly assembled their general committee, and dis- 
 avowed Lord Kenmare and his disavowal; observing at the same 
 time that they were not framed so differently from all other men 
 as to be in love with their own degradation. The majority of the 
 volunteer convention, however, resolved to consider the infamous 
 declaration of Lord Kenmare as the voice of the Catholics of 
 Ireland, and, in consequence, the emancipation of that body made 
 no part of their plan of reform. The consequence natural to such 
 folly and injustice immediately ensued: the government seeing the 
 convention, by their own act, separate themselves from the great 
 mass of the people, who could alone give them effective force, held 
 them at defiance; and that formidable assembly, which, under 
 better principles, might have held the fate of Ireland in their 
 hands, was broken up with disgrace and ignominy, a memorable 
 warning that those who know not to render their just rights to 
 others, will be found incapable of firmly adhering to their own. 
 
 The general committee of the Catholics, of which I have spoken 
 above, and which, since the year 1792, has made a distinguished 
 feature in the politics of Ireland, was a body composed of their 
 bishops, their country gentlemen, and of a certain number of 
 merchants and traders, all resident in Dublin, but named by the 
 Catholics in the different towns corporate to represent them. The 
 original object of this institution was to obtain the repeal of a 
 partial and oppressive tax called quarterage, which was levied on 
 the Catholics only; and the government, which found the com- 
 mittee at first a convenient instrument on some occasions, connived 
 at their existence. So degraded was the Catholic mind at the 
 period of the formation of their committee, about 1770, and long 
 
THEOBALD WOLFE TONE. 45 
 
 after, that they were happy to be allowed to go up to the Castle 
 with an abominable, slavisjh address to each successive viceroy, of 
 which, moreover, until the accession of the Duke of Portland in 
 1782, so little notice was taken that his Grace was the first who 
 condescended to give them an answer; and, indeed, for above 
 twenty years, the sole business of the general committee was to 
 prepare and deliver in those records of their depression. The 
 effort which an honest indignation had called forth at the time of 
 the volunteer convention in 1783, seemed to have exhausted their 
 strength, and they sunk back into their primitive nullity. Under 
 this appearance of apathy, however, a new spirit was gradually 
 arising in the body, owing principally to the exertions and the 
 example of one man, John Keogh, to whose services his country, 
 and more especially the Catholics, are singularly indebted. In fact, 
 the downfall of feudal tyranny was acted in little on the theatre of 
 the general committee. The influence of their clergy and of their 
 barons was gradually undermined; and the third estate, the com- 
 mercial interest, rising in wealth and power, was preparing, by 
 degrees, to throv/ off the yoke, in the imposing, or at least, the 
 continuing of which the leaders of the body, I mean the prelates 
 and aristocracy, to their disgrace be it spoken, were ready to concur. 
 Already had those leaders, acting in obedience to the orders of 
 the government, w^hich held them in fetters, suffered one or two 
 signal defeats in the committee, owing principally to the talents 
 and address of John Keogh; the parties began to be defined, and 
 a sturdy democracy of new men, w^ith bolder views and stronger 
 talents, soon superseded the timid counsels and slavish measures 
 of the ancient aristocracy. Everything seemed tending to a better 
 order of things among the Catholics, and an occasion soon offered 
 to call the energy of their new leaders into action. 
 
 The Dissenters of the north, and more especially of the town of 
 Belfast, are, from the genius of their religion, and from the superior 
 diffusions of political information among them, sincere and en- 
 lightened republicans. They had ever been foremost in the 
 pursuit of Parliamentary reform, and I have already mentioned 
 the early wisdom and virtue of the town of Belfast in proposing 
 the emancipation of the Catholics, so far back as the year 1783. 
 The French Revolution had awakened all parties in the nation from 
 the stupor in which they lay plunged; from the time of the dis- 
 persion of the ever memorable volunteer convention, and the 
 citizens of Belfast were the first to raise their heads from the 
 abyss, and to look the situation of their country steadily in the 
 face. They saw at a glance their true object, and the only means 
 to obtaiu it; conscious that the force of the existing government 
 
46 LIFE OP 
 
 was such as to require tlie united efforts of tlie whole Irish people 
 to subvert it, and long convinced in their own minds that to be 
 free it was necessary to be just, they cast their eyes once more on 
 the long neglected Catholics, and profiting of past errors, for 
 which, however, they had not to accuse themselves, the}^ deter- 
 mined to begin on a new system, and to raise the structure of the 
 liberty and independence of their country on the broad basis of 
 equal rights to the whole people. 
 
 The Catholics, on their part, were rapidly advancing in political 
 spirit and information. Every month, every day, as the revolu- 
 tion in France went prosperously forward, added to their courage 
 and their force; and the hour seemed at last arrived, when, after a 
 dreary oppression of above one hundred years, they were once 
 more to appear on the political theatre of their country. They 
 saw the brilliant prospect of success, which events in France 
 opened to their view; and they determined to avail themselves 
 with promptitude of that opportunity, which never returns to those 
 who omit it. For this, the active members of the general com- 
 mittee resolved to set on foot an immediate application to 
 Parliament, praying for a repeal of the pena,l laws. The first 
 difiiculty they had to surmount arose in their own body; their 
 peers, their gentry (as they affected to call themselves), and their 
 prelates, either seduced or intimidated by government, gave the 
 measure all possible opposition; and, at length, after a long 
 contest, in which both parties strained every nerve, and produced 
 the whole of their strength, the question was decided on a division 
 in the committee, by a majority of at least six to one, in favour of 
 the intended application. The triumph of the young democracy 
 was complete; but though the aristocracy v/ere defeated, they 
 were not yet entirely broken down. By the instigation of govern- 
 ment they had the meanness to secede from the general committee, 
 to disavow their acts, and even to publish in the papers that they 
 did not wish to embarrass the government by advancing their 
 claims of emancipation. It is difficult to conceive such a degree 
 of political degradation; but what will not the tyranny of an 
 execrable system produce in time? Sixty-eight gentlemen, 
 individually of high spirit, were found, who publicly, and in a 
 body, deserted their party and their own just claims, and even 
 sanctioned this pitiful desertion by the authority of their signatures. - 
 Such an effect had the operation of the penal laws on the minds 
 of the Catholics of Ireland, as proud a race as any in ail Europe. 
 
 But I am ill some degree anticipating matters, and indeed, 
 instead of a few memorandums relating to myself, I find myself 
 embarking in a kind of history of my own times; let me return 
 
THEOiiALD WOLFE TONE. 47 
 
 and condense as much as 1 can. The first attempts of the Catholic 
 committee failed totally; endeavouring to accommodate all parties, 
 they fivrme 1 a petition so humble that it ventured to ask for 
 nothing; and even this petition they could not find a single 
 member of the legislature to present; of so little consequence, 
 in the year 1790, was the great mass of the Irish people ! Not 
 disheartened, however, by this defeat, they went on, and in the 
 interval between that and the approaching season, they were pre- 
 paring measures for a second application. In order to add a 
 greater v/eight and consequence to their intended petition, they 
 brought over to Ireland Richard Burke, only son of the celebrated 
 Edmund, and appointed him their agent to conduct their applica- 
 tion to parliament. This young man came over with considerable 
 advantages, and especially with the eclat of his father's name, who, 
 the Catholics concluded, and very reasonably, would, for his sake, 
 if not for theirs, assist his son with his advice and directions. But 
 their expectations in the event proved abortive. Eichard Burke, 
 v/ith a considerable portion of talents from nature, and cultivated, 
 as may be well supposed, with the utmost care by his father, who 
 idolized him, was utterly deficient in judgment, in temper, and 
 especially in the art of managing parties. In three or four months* 
 time, during which he remained in Ireland, he contrived to embroil 
 himself, and in a certain degree, the committee, with all parties in 
 parliament, the opposition as well as the government ; and finally, 
 desiring to drive his employers into measures of which they dis- 
 approved; and thinking himself strong enough to go on without 
 the assistance of men who introduced and, as long as their duty 
 would permit, supported him, in which he miserably deceived 
 himself, he ended his short and turbulent career by breaking with 
 the general committee. That body, however, treated him respect- 
 fully to the last, and, on his departure, they sent a deputation to 
 thank him for his exertions, and presented him with the sum of 
 two thousand guineas. 
 
 It was pretty much about this time that my connexion with the 
 Catholic body commenced, in the manner which I am about to 
 relate. I cannot pretend to strict accuracy as to dates, for I write 
 entirely from memory, all my papers being in America. 
 
 Russell had, on his arrival to join his regiment at Belfast, found 
 the people so much to his taste, and in return had rendered him- 
 self so agreeable to them, that he was speedily admitted into their 
 confidence, and became a member of several of their clubs. This 
 was an unusual occurrence, as British officers, it may well be 
 supposed, were no great favourites with the republicans of Belfast. 
 The Catholic question was at this period beginning to attract the 
 
48 LIFE OP 
 
 public notice; and the Belfast volunteers on some public occasion, 
 I know not precisely what, wished to come forward with a declara- 
 tion in its favour. For this purpose Russell, who by this time 
 was entirely in their confidence, wrote to me to draw up and 
 transmit to him such a declaration as I thought proper; which I 
 accordingly did. A meeting of the corps was held in consequence; 
 but an opposition unexpectedly arising to that part of the declara- 
 tion which alluded directly to the Catholic claims, that passage 
 was, for the sake of unanimity, withdrawn for the present, and the 
 declarations then passed unanimously. Eussell wrote me an 
 account of all this, and it immediately set me on thinking more 
 seriously than I had yet done upon the state of Ireland. I soon 
 formed my theory, and on that theory I have unvaryingly acted 
 ever since. 
 
 To subvert the tyranny of our execrable government, to break 
 the connexion with England, the never-failing source of 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. To 
 effectuate these great objects, I reviewed the three great sects. 
 The Protestants I despaired of from the outset, for obvious reasons. 
 Already in possession, by an unjust monopoly, of the whole power 
 tvnd patronage of the country, it was not to be supposed they 
 would ever concur in measures, the certain tendency of which must 
 be to lessen their influence as a party, how much soever the nation 
 might gain. To the Catholics I thought it unnecessary to address 
 myself, because, that as no change could make their political 
 situation worse, I reckoned upon their support to a certainty; 
 besides, they had already begun to manifest a strong sense of their 
 wrongs and oppressions; and finally, I well knew that, however it 
 might be disguised or suppressed, their existed in the breast of 
 every Irish Catholic an inextirpable abhorrence of the English 
 name and power. There remained only the Dissenters, whom I 
 knew to be patriotic and enlightened; however, the recent events 
 at Belfast had showed me that all prejudice was not yet entirely 
 removed from their minds. I sat down accordingly, and wrote a 
 pamphlet addressed to the Dissenters, and which I entitled " An 
 Argument on behalf of the Catholics of Ireland," the object of 
 which was to convince them 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 themi and that consequently to assert 
 
THEOBALD WOLFE TONE. 49 
 
 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 tlie future 
 but one people. These principles I supported by the best argu- 
 ments which suggested themselves to me; and particularly by 
 demonstrating that the cause of the failure of all former efforts, 
 and more especially of the volunteer convention in 1783, was the 
 unjust neglect of the claims of their Catholic brethren. This 
 pamphlet, which appeared in September, 1791, under the signature 
 of a Northern Whig, had a considerable degree of success. The 
 Catholics (with not one of ivhom I was at the time acquainted) were 
 pleased with the efforts of a volunteer in their cause, and distributed 
 it in all quarters. The people of Belfast, of whom I had spoken 
 v;ith the respect and admiration I sincerely felt for them, and to 
 whom I was also perfectly unknown, printed a very large edition, 
 which they dispersed through the whole North of IreLind; and I 
 have the great satisfaction to believe that many of the Dissenters 
 were converted by ray arguments. It is like vanity to speak of 
 my own performances so much; and the fact is, I believe that I 
 am somewhat vain on that topic; but as it was the immediate 
 cause of r.iy being made known to the Catholic bod}^, I may be, 
 perhaps, excused for dwelling upon a circumstance, which I must 
 ever look on, for that reason, as one of the most fortunate of my 
 life. As my pamphlet spread more and more, my acquaintance 
 amongst the Catholics extended accordingly. My first friend in 
 the body was John Keogh, and through him I became acquainted 
 with all the leaders — as Richard M'Cormick, John Sweetman, 
 Edward Byrne, Thomas Braughall, in short, the whole sub- 
 committee, and most of the active members of the general 
 committee. It was a kind of fashion this winter (1791) among 
 the Catholics to give splendid dinners to their political friends, in 
 and out of Parliament; and I was always a guest of course. I 
 was invited to a grand dinner given to Richard Burke, on his 
 leaving Dublin, together with William Todd Jones, who had dis- 
 tinguished himself by a most excellent pamphlet in favour of the 
 Catholic cause, as well as to several entertainments given by clubs 
 and associations; in short, I began to grow into something like 
 reputation, and my company was, in a manner, a requisite at all 
 the entertainments of that winter. 
 
 But this was not all The volunteers of Belfast, of the first, or 
 green company, were pleased, in consequence of my pamphlet, to 
 elect me an honorary member of their corps; a favour which 
 they were very delicate in bestowing: as I believe I was the only 
 person, except the great Henry Flood, who was ever honoured 
 
50 LIFE OF 
 
 with that mark of their approbation. I was also invited to spend 
 a few days in Belfast, in order to assist in framing the first club of 
 United Irishmen, and to cultivate a personal acquaintance with 
 those men whom, though I highly esteemed, I knew as yet but by 
 reputation. In consequence, about the beginning of October, I 
 went down with my friend Russell, who had by this time quitted 
 the army, and was in Dublin on his private affairs. The incidents 
 of that journey, which was by far the most agreeable and interest- 
 ing one I had ever made, I recorded in a kind of diary, a practice 
 which I then commenced, and have ever since, from time to time, 
 continued, as circumstances of sufficient importance occurred. To 
 that diary I refer. It is sufficient here to say, that my reception 
 was of the most flattering kind, and that I found the men of the 
 most distinguished public virtue in the nation, the most estimable 
 in all the domestic relations of life: I had the good fortune to 
 render myself agreeable to them; and a friendship was then 
 formed between us which I think it will not be easy to shake. It 
 is a kind of injustice to name individuals, yet I cannot refuse 
 myself the pleasure of observing how peculiarly fortunate I esteem 
 myself in having formed connexions with Samuel Neilson, Kobert 
 Simms, William Simms, William Sinclair, Thomas M'Cabe: I 
 may as well stop here: for in enumerating my most particular 
 friends, I find I am, in fact, making out a list of the men of 
 Belfast most distinguished for their virtue, talent, and patriotism. 
 To proceed. We formed our club, of which I wrote the declara- 
 tion, and certainly the formation of that club commenced a new 
 epoch in the politics of Ireland. At length, after a stoy of about 
 three weeks, which I look back upon as perhaps the pleasantest 
 in my life, Piusseli and I returned to Dublin, with instructions to 
 cultivate the leaders in the popular interest, being Protestants; 
 and, if possible, to form in the capital a club of United Irishmen. 
 Neither Russell nor myself was known to one of those leaders; 
 however, we soon contrived to get acquainted with James Napper 
 Tandy, who was the principal of them, and through him, with 
 several others, so that, in a little time, we succeeded; and a club 
 was accordingly formed, of which the Honourable Simon Butler 
 was the fir.st chairman, and Tandy the first secretary. The club 
 adopted tlie declaration of their brethren of Belfast, with whom 
 they immediately opened a correspondence. It is but justice to 
 an honest man who has been persecuted for his firm adherence to 
 his principles, to observe here that Tandy, in coming forward on 
 this (M-casion, ^^'ell ksiew that he was putting to the most extreme 
 hfi/nrd I)is popula'^'ty among the corporations of the city of 
 '> u with 'vhoni '"-- ^^^^ enjoyed the most unbounded influence 
 
THEOBALD WOLFE TONE. 51 
 
 for near twenty years; and in fact, in the event, his popularity \Ya3 
 sacriQced. That did not prevent, however, his taking his part 
 decidedly: he had the firmness to forego the gratification of his 
 private feelings for the good of his country. The truth is, Tandy 
 was a very sincere republican, and it did not require much 
 argument to show him the impossibility of attaining a republic by 
 any means short of the united powers of the whole people; he, 
 therefore, renounced the lesser object for the greater, and gave up 
 the certain influence which he possessed (and had well earned) in 
 the city, for the contingency of that influence which he might 
 have (and well deserves to have) in the nation. For my own 
 part, I think it right to mention that, at this time, the establish- 
 ment of a republic was not the immediate object of my speculations. 
 My object was to secure the independence of my country under 
 any form of government, to which I was led by a hatred of 
 England, so deeply rooted in my nature, that it was rather an 
 instinct than a principle. I left to others, better qualified for the 
 inquiry, the investigation and merits of the different forms of 
 government, and I contented myself with labouring on ray own 
 system, which was luckily in perfect coincidence as to its operation 
 with that of those men who viewed the question on a broader and 
 j aster scale than I did at the time I mention. But to return. 
 The club was scarcely formed before I lost all pretensions to any 
 thing like influence in their measures; a circumstance which at 
 first mortified me not a little; and perhaps had I retained more 
 weight in their councils, I might have prevented, as on some 
 occasions I laboured unsuccessfully to prevent, their running into 
 indiscretions, which gave their enemies but too great advantages 
 over them. It is easy to be wise after the event. So it was, 
 however, that I soon sunk into obscurity in the club, which, how- 
 ever, I had the satisfaction to see daily increasing in numbers and 
 consequence. The Catholics particularly, flocked in in crowds, as 
 well as some of the Protestant members of corporations most 
 • distinguished for their liberality and public spirit on former 
 occasions; and indeed, I must do the society the justice to say, 
 that I believe there never existed a political body which inchided 
 amongst its members a greater portion of sincere, uncorrupted 
 patriotism, as well as a very respectable proportion of talents. 
 Their publications, mostly written by Dr Drennan, and many of 
 them admirably well done, began to draw the public attention, 
 especially as they were evidently the production of a society 
 utterly disclaiming all party views or motives, and acting on a 
 broad, original scale, not sparing those who called themselves 
 patriots more than those who were the habitual slaves of the 
 
52 LIFE OF 
 
 government; a system in which I heartily concurred, having long 
 entertained a more serious contempt for what is called Gj'tposition 
 than for the common prostitutes of the treasury bench, who want 
 at least the vice of hypocrisy. At length the Solicitor-General, in 
 speaking of the society, having made use of expressions in the 
 House of Commons extremely offensive, an ex^jlanation was 
 demanded of him by Simon Butler, chairman, and Tandy, 
 secretary. Butler was satisfied — Tandy was not; and after several 
 messages, which it is not my affair to detail, the Solicitor- General 
 at length complained to the House of a breach of privilege, and 
 Tandy was ordered, in the first instance, into custody. He was 
 in consequence arrested by a messenger, from whom he found 
 means to make his escape; and immediately a proclamation was 
 issued, offering a reward for taking him. The society now v.-as in 
 a difficult situation, and I thought myself called upon to make an 
 effort, at all hazards to myself, to prevent its falling by any 
 improper timidity in the public opinion. We were, in fact, com- 
 mitted with the House of Commons on the question of privilege, 
 and having fairly engaged in the contest, it was impossible to 
 recede without a total forfeiture of character. Under these 
 circumstances, I cast my eyes on Archibald Hamilton Eowan, a 
 distinguished member of the society, whose many virtues, public 
 and private, had set his name above the reach of even the 
 malevolence of party; whose situation in life was of the most 
 respectable rank, if ranks be indeed respectable; and above all, 
 whose personal courage was not to be shaken, a circumstance, in 
 the actual situation of affairs, of the last importance. To Rowan, 
 therefore, I applied; I showed him that the current of public 
 opinion was rather setting against us in this business, and that it 
 w^as necessary that some of us should step forward and expose 
 ourselves, at all risks, to show the House of Commons, and the 
 nation at large, that we were not to be intimidated or put down 
 so easily. I offered, if he would take the chair, that I would, with 
 the society's permission, act as secretary, and that we would give 
 our signatures to such publications as circumstances might render 
 necessary. Rowan instantly agreed; and accordingly, on the next 
 night of meeting, he was chosen chairman, and I pro-secretary, 
 in the absence of Tandy; and the society having agreed to the 
 resolutions proposed, which were worded in a manner very offensive 
 to the dignity of the House of Commons, and, in feict, amounting 
 to a challenge of their authority, we inserted them in all the news- 
 papers, and printed five thousand copies, with our names affixed. 
 The least that Rowan and I expected in consequence of this 
 8te|), which, under the circumstances, was, I must say, rather a 
 
THEOBALD 'WOLFE TONE. 53 
 
 bold one, was to be committed to Newgate for a breach of privilege, 
 and pcrhnps exposed to personal discussions with some of the 
 members of the House of Commons; for he proposed, and I agreed, 
 that if any disrespectful language was applied to either of us in 
 any debate which might arise on the business, we would attack the 
 person, whoever he might be, immediately, and oblige him either 
 to recant his words or give battle. All our determination, however, 
 came to nothing. The House of Commons, either content with 
 their victory over Tandy, who was obliged to conceal himself for 
 some time, or not thinking Rowan and myself objects sufficiently 
 important to attract their notice; or perhapg,- which I rather 
 believed, not wishing just then to embroil themselves with a man 
 of Rowan's firmness and courage, not to speak of his great and 
 justly merited popularity, took no notice whatsoever of our resolu- 
 tions; and in this manner he and I had the good fortune, and, I 
 may say, the merit, to rescue the society from a situation of con- 
 siderable difficulty without any actual suffering, though certainly 
 with some personal hazard on our part. We had likewise the 
 satisfaction to see the society, instead of losing ground, rise rapidly 
 in the public opinion by their firmness on the occasion. Shortly 
 after, on the last day of the sessions, Tandy appeared in public, 
 and was taken into custody, the whole society attending him in a 
 body to the House of Commons. He was ordered by the speaker 
 to be committed to Newgate, whither he was conveyed, the society 
 attending him as before, and the parliament being prorogued in 
 half an hour after, he was liberated immediately, and escorted in 
 triumph to his own house. On this occasion Rowan and I attended 
 of course, and were in the gallery of the House of Commons. As 
 we w'ere not sure but we might be attacked ourselves, we took 
 pains to place ourselves in a conspicuous situation, and to wear our 
 Whig Club uniforms, which were rather gaudy, in order to signify 
 to all whom it might concern, that there we were. A good many 
 of the members, we observed, remarked us, but no farther notice 
 was taken; our names w^ere never mentioned; the whole business 
 passed over quietly, and I resigned my pro-secretaryship, being the 
 only office I ever held in the society, into the hands of Tandy, who 
 resumed his functions. This was in spring, 1 792 : I should observe, 
 that the day after the publication above mentioned, when I 
 attended near the House of Commons, in expectation of being 
 called before them to answer fcr what I had done, and had 
 requested my friend, Sir Lawrence Parsons, to give me notice, in 
 order that I might present myself, the house took fire by accident, 
 and was burned to the ground. 
 
 The Society of United Irishmen beginning to attract the public 
 
54 LIFE OP 
 
 notice considerably, in consequence of tlie events which I have 
 mentioned, and it being pretty generally known that I was 
 principally instrumental in its formation, I was one day surprised 
 by a visit from the barrister, who had about two years beft)re 
 spoken to me on the part of the Whig leaders, a business of which 
 I had long since discharged my memory. He told me he was 
 sorry to see the new line I was adopting in politics, the more so 
 as I might rely upon it, that the principles I now held would never 
 be generally adopted, and consequently I was devoting myself 
 without advancing any beneficial purpose; he also testified to me 
 surprise at my conduct, and insinuated pretty directly, though 
 with great civility, that I had not kept faith with the AVhigs, with 
 whom he professed to understand I had connected myself, and 
 whom, in consequence, I ought to have consulted before I took so 
 decided a line of conduct as I had lately done. I did not like the 
 latter part of his discourse at all ; however, I answered him Vv^ith 
 great civility on my part, that, as to the principles he mentioned, 
 I had not adopted them without examination; that, as to the 
 pamphlet I had written in the Catholic cause, I had not advanced 
 a syllable which I did not conscientiously believe, and consequently 
 I was neither inclined to repent nor retract; as to my supposed 
 connexion with the Whigs, I reminded him that I had not sought 
 them; on the contrary, they had sought me; if they had, on 
 reflection, not thought me worth cultivating, that was no fault of 
 mine. I observed, also, that Mr George Ponsonby, whom I looked 
 upon as i)rincipal in the business, had never spoken to me above 
 a dozen times in ray life, and then merely on ordinary topics ; that 
 I was too proud to be treated in that manner; and, if I was 
 supposed capable to render service to the party, it would only be 
 by confiding in, and communicating with me, that I could be really 
 serviceable, and on that footing only would I consent to be treated; 
 that probably Mr Ponsonby would think that rather a lofty 
 declaration, but it was my determination, the more as I knew he 
 was rather a proud man. Finally, I observed, he had my permis- 
 sion to report all this, and that I looked on myself as under no tie 
 of obligation whatsoever, that I had written a pamphlet, unsolicited, 
 in favour of the party; that my principles were known, and I was 
 not at all disposed to retract them; what I had done I had done, 
 and I was determined to abide by it. My friend then said he was 
 sorry to see me so obstinate in what he must consider an indiscreet 
 line of conduct, and protesting that his principal object was to 
 serve me, in vrhich I believed him, he took his leave, and this put 
 an end completely to the idea of a connexion with the Whigs. I 
 spoke rather haughtily in this affair^ because I was somewhat j^o- 
 
THEOBALD WOLFE TONE. 5o 
 
 vokeJ at the insmuation of duplicity; and besides, I wished to 
 have a blow at Mr George Ponsonby, who seemed desirous to 
 retain me as a kind of pamphleteer in his service, at the same 
 time that he industriously avoided anything like communication 
 with me, a situation to which I was neither so weak nor so mean 
 as to sutfer myself to be reduced; and as I w^ell knew he was oue 
 of the [)roudest men in Ireland, I took care to speak on a footing 
 of the most independent equality. After this discussion, I for the 
 second time dismissed all idea of Ponsonby and the Whigs; but I 
 had good reason, a loijg time after, to believe that he had not so 
 readily forgotten the business as I did, and indeed he was very 
 near having his full revenge of me, as I shall mention in its place. 
 I have already observed that the first attempts of the Catholic 
 committee, after the secession of their aristocrac}', were totally 
 unsuccessful. In 1790, they could not even find a member of 
 Parliament who would condescend to present their petition. In 
 1791, Piichard Burke, their then agent, had prepared, on their 
 behalf, a very well written philippic, but which certainly was no 
 petition; w^hich, after considerable difficulties, resulting in a great 
 degree from his want of temper and discretion, after being offered 
 to, and accepted by, different members, was at length finally refused; 
 a circumstance which, by disgusting him extremely with all parties, 
 I believe determined him to quit Ireland. After his departure, 
 another petition was prepared and presented by '^**j but no 
 unfortunate paper w^as ever so maltreated. The committee in 
 general, and its more active and ostensible members in particular, 
 were vilified and abused in the grossest manner; they were called 
 a rabble of obscure porter-drinking mechanics, without property, 
 pretensions, or influence, who met in holes and corners, and fancied 
 themselves the representatives of the Catholic body, who disavowed 
 and despised them; the independence and respectability of the 
 sixty-eight renegadoes, who had set their hands so infamously to 
 their act of apostacy, were extolled to the skies, while the lowest 
 and most clumsy personalities were heaped upon the leaders of the 
 committee, particularly Edward Byrne and John Keogh, who had 
 the honour to be selected from their brethren, and exposed as butts 
 for the small wit of the prostitutes of the government. Finally, 
 the petition of the Catholics, three millions of people, was, by 
 special motion of David Latouche, taken off the table of the House 
 of Commons, whore it had been suffered to lie for three days, and 
 rejected. Never was an address to a legislative body m^re unpiti- 
 fully used. The people of Belfast, rapidly advancing in the career 
 of wisdom and liberality, had presented a petition in behalf of the 
 Catholics much more pointed than that which they presented ivr 
 
66 LIFE OP 
 
 themselves; for their petition was extremely guarded, asking only 
 the right of elective franchise, and equal admission to grand juries; 
 whereas that of Belfast prayed for their entire admission to all the 
 rights of citizens. This petition was, also, on the motion of the 
 same member, taken off the table and rejected; and the two papers 
 sent forth together to wander as they might. 
 
 There seems, from this time out, a special providence to have 
 watched over the affairs of Ireland, and to have turned to her 
 profit and advantage the deepest laid and most artful schemes of 
 her enemies. Every measure adopted, and skilfully adopted, to 
 thwart the expectations of the Catholics, and to crush the rising 
 spirit of union between them and the Dissenters, has, without ex- 
 ception, only tended to confirm and fortify both; and the fact I am 
 about to mention, for one, is a striking proof of the truth of this 
 assertion. The principal charge in the general outcry raised in 
 the House of Commons against the general committee was, that 
 they were a self-appointed body, not nominated by the Catholics 
 of the nation, and consequently not authorised to speak on their 
 behalf. This argument, which, in fact, was the truth, was 
 triumphantly dwelt upon by the enemies of the Catholics; but, in 
 the end, it would perhaps have been more fortunate for their 
 wishes, if they had not laid such a stress upon this circumstance, 
 and drawn the line of separation so strongly between the general 
 committee and the body at large. For the Catholics throughout 
 Ireland, who had hitherto been indolent spectators of the business, 
 seeing their brethren of Dublin, and especially the general com- 
 mittee, insulted and abused for their exertions in pursuit of that 
 liberty which, if attained, must be a common blessing to all, came 
 forward as one man from every quarter of the nation, with 
 addresses and resolutions; adopting the measures of the general 
 committee as their own, declaring that body the only organ com- 
 petent to speak for the Catholics of Ireland; and condemning, in 
 terms of the most marked disapprobation and contempt, the 
 conduct of the sixty-eight apostates, who were so triumphantly 
 held up by the hirelings of government as the respectable part of 
 the Catholic community. The question was now fairly decided. 
 The aristocracy shrunk back in disgrace and obscurity, leaving the 
 field open to the democracy; and that body neither wanted 
 talents nor spirit to profit of the advantages of their present 
 situation. 
 
 The Catholics of Dublin were, at this period, to the Catholics 
 of Ireland, what Paris, at the commencement of the French 
 Revolution, was to the departmcnta. Their sentiment was that of 
 the nation, and whatever political measure they adopted was sure 
 
THEOBALD WOLFE TONE, 57 
 
 to be obeyed. Still, however, there was wanting a personal com- 
 munication between the general committee and their constituents 
 in the country; and as the Catholic question had now grown to 
 considerable magnitude, so much indeed as to absorb all other 
 political discussion, it became the first care of the leaders of the 
 committee to frame a plan of organization for that purpose. It is 
 to the sagacity of Myles Keon, of Keonbrook, county Leitrim, 
 that his country is indebted for the system on which the general 
 committee was to be framed anew, in a manner that should render 
 it impossible to bring it again in doubt whether that body were or 
 not the organ of the Catholic will. His plan was to associate to 
 the committee, as then constituted, two members from each 
 county and great city, actual residents of the place which they 
 represented; who were, however, only to be summoned upon 
 extraordinary occasions, leaving the common routine of business 
 to the original members, who, as I have already related, were all 
 residents of Dublin. The committee, as thus constituted, would 
 consist of half town and half country members; and the elections 
 for the latter he proposed should be held by means of primary and 
 electoral assemblies, held, the first in each parish, the second in 
 each county and great town. He likewise proposed that the town 
 members should be held to correspond regularly with their country 
 associates, these with their immediate electors, and these again 
 with the primary assemblies. A more simple, and at the same 
 time more comprehensive organization, could not be devised. By 
 this means the general committee became the centre of a circle 
 embracing the whole nation, and pushing its rays instantaneously 
 to the remotest parts of the circumference. The plan was laid in 
 writing, before the general committee, by Myles Keon; and after 
 mature discussion, the first part, relating to the association and 
 election of the country members, was adopted with some slight 
 variation; the latter part, relating to the constant communication 
 with the mass of the people, was thought, under the circumstances, 
 to be too hardy, and was accordingly dropped sub silentio. 
 
 About this time it was that the leaders of the committee cast 
 their eyes upon me to fill the station left vacant by Eichard 
 Burke. It was accordingly proposed by my friend John Keogh 
 to appoint me their agent, with the title of assistant-secretary, and 
 a salary of £200 sterling a-year, during my continuance in the 
 service of the committee. This proposal was adopted unanimously. 
 John Keogh and John Sweetman were ordered to wait on me with 
 the proposal in writing, to which I acceded immediately by a 
 respectful answer; and I was that very day introduced in form to 
 the subconmiittee, and entered upon tiie functions of my new office. 
 
58 LIFE OF 
 
 I was now placed in a very honourable, but a very arduous 
 situation. The committee having taken so decided a step as to 
 propose a general election of members to represent the Catholic 
 body throughout Ireland, was well aware that they would be 
 exposed to attacks of all possible kinds; and they were not disap- 
 pointed. They were prepared, however, to repel them, and the 
 literary part of the warfare fell, of course, to my share. In 
 reviewing the conduct of my predecessor, Richard Burke, I saw 
 that the rock on which he split was an overweening opinion of his 
 own talents and judgment, and a desire, which he had not art 
 enough to conceal, of guiding, at his pleasure, the measures of the 
 committee. I therefore determined to model my conduct with 
 the greatest caution in that respect; I seldom or never offered my 
 opinion, unless it was called for, in the sub-committee; but con- 
 tented myself with giving my sentiments, without reserve, in 
 private to the two men I most esteemed, and who had, in their 
 respective capacities, the greatest influence on that body — I mean 
 John Keogh and Richard M'Cormick, secretary to the general 
 committee. My discretion in this respect was not unobserved; 
 and I very soon acquired, and I may say, without vanity, I 
 deserved, the entire confidence and good opinion of the Catholics. 
 The fact is, I was devoted most sincerely to their cause; and being 
 now retained in their service, I would have sacrificed everything 
 to ensure their success, and they knew it. I am satisfied they 
 looked upon me as a faithful and zealous advocate, neither to be 
 intimidated nor corrupted, and in that respect they rendered me 
 but justice. My circumstances were, at the time of my appoint- 
 ment, extremely embarrassed, and of course the salary annexed to 
 my office was a considerable object with me. But though I had 
 now an increasing family totally unprovided for, I can safely say, 
 that I would not have deserted my duty to the Catholics for the 
 whole patronage of the government if it were consolidated into 
 one office, and offered me as the reward. 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 gcnerr.l, I am sorry 
 to say it, 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 prudence and discretion. If 
 ever I succeed in life, or arrive at anything like station or eminence 
 
THEOBALD WOLFE TONE. 59 
 
 1 sliall consider it as due to her counsels and her example. But 
 to return. Another rule which I adopted for my conduct was, ia 
 all the papers I had occasioji to write, to remember I was not 
 speaking for myself, but for the Catholic body; and, consequently, 
 to be never wedded to my own compositions, but to receive the 
 objections of every one with respect; and to change without 
 rehictance whatever the committee thought fit to alter, even in 
 cases where perhaps my own judgment was otherwise. And 
 trifling as this circumstance may seem, I am sure it recommended 
 me considerably to the committee, who had been, on former 
 occasions, more than once embarrassed by the self-love of Richard 
 Burke; and, indeed, even of some of their own body, men of con- 
 siderable talents, who had written some excellent papers on their 
 behalf, but who did not stand criticism as I did, without wincing. 
 The fact is, I was so entirely devoted to their cause, that the idea 
 of literary reputation as to myself never occurred to me; not that 
 I am at all insensible on that score, but the feeling was totally 
 absorbed in superior considerations; and I think I may safely 
 appeal to the sub-committe, whether ever, on any occasion, they 
 found me for a moment set up my vanity or self-love against their 
 interests, or even their pleasure. I am sure that by my discretion 
 on the points I have mentioned, which, indeed, was no more than 
 my duty, I secured the esteem of the committee, and, consequently, 
 an influence in their counsels, which I should justly have forfeited 
 had I seemed too eager to assume it; and it is to the credit of both 
 parties that, from the first moment cf our connexion to the last, 
 neither my zeal and anxiety to serve them, nor the kindness and 
 favour with which they received my efibrts, were ever, for a single 
 moment, suspended. 
 
 Almost the first business I had to transact was to conduct a 
 correspondence with Richard Burke, who was very desirous to 
 return to Ireland once more, and to resume his former station, 
 which the committee were determined he should not do. It was 
 a matter of some difficulty to refuse vrithout offending him; 
 and I must say he pressed us rather forcibly; however, we parried 
 him with as much address as we could, and after two or three 
 long letters, to which the answers were very concise and civil, he 
 found the business was desperate, and gave it up accordingly. 
 
 Thi-5 (1792) was a memorable year in Ireland. The publication 
 of the plan for the new organizing of the general committee gave 
 an instant alarm to all the supporters of the British government; 
 and every effort was made to prevent the election of the country 
 members; for it was sufficiently evident that, if the representatives 
 of three millions of oppressed people were once suffered to meet 
 
60 tiPE 0^ 
 
 it would not afterwcards be safe, or indeed possible, to refuse their 
 JLisfc demands. Accordingly, at the ensuing assizes, tbe grand 
 juries, universally throughout Ireland, published the most furious, 
 I may say frantic, resolutions against the plan and its authors, 
 \yhoin they charged with little short of high treason. Government, 
 likewise, was too successful in gaining over the Catholic clergy, 
 particularly the bishops, who gave the measure at first very serious 
 opposition. The committee, however, was not daunted; and, 
 satisfied of the justice of their cause, and of their own courage, 
 they laboured, and with success, to inspire the same spirit in the 
 breasts of their brethren throughout the nation. For this purpose, 
 their first step was an admirable one. By their order I drew up a 
 state of the case, with a plan for the organization of the committee 
 annexed, v/hich was laid before Simon Butler and Beresford 
 Burton, two lawyers of great eminence, and what was of con- 
 sequence here, king's counsel, to know whether the committee had 
 in any respect contravened the law of the land; or whether, by 
 carrying the proposed plan into execution, the parties concerned 
 would subject themselves to pain or penalty. The answers oJ 
 both the lawyers were completely in our favour, and we instantly 
 printed them in the papers, and dispersed them in handbills, 
 letters, and all possible shapes. This blow was decisive as to the 
 legality of the measure. For the bishops, whose opposition gave 
 us great trouble, four or five different missions were undertaken by 
 different members of the sub-committee, into the provinces, at 
 their own expense, in order to hold conferences with them; in 
 which, with much difficulty, they succeeded so far as to secure the 
 co-operation of some, and the neutriility of the rest of the prelates. 
 On these missions the most active members were John Keogh and 
 Thomas Braughall, neither of whom spared purse nor person where 
 the interests of the Catholic body v.'ere concerned. I accompanied 
 Mr Braughall in his visit to Connaught, where he went to meet 
 the gentry of that province at the great fair of Ballinasloe. As it 
 was late in the evening when we left town, the postillion who 
 drove us having given warning, I am satisfied, to some footpads, 
 the carriage was stopped by four or five fellows at the gate of tlie 
 Phoenix Park. We had two cases of pistols in the carriage, and 
 we agreed not to be robbed. Braughall, who was at this time 
 about sixty-five years of age, and lame from a fall off his horse 
 some years before, was as cool and intrepid as man could be. He 
 took the command, and V)y his orders 1 let down all the glasses, 
 and called out to the fellows to come on, if they were so inclined, 
 for that we were ready; Braughall desiring me at the same time 
 *'not to fire, till I could touch the scoundrels.'"' This rathet 
 
THEOBALD WOLFE TONE. 61 
 
 embarrassed tHem, and they did not veritiire to approacli the 
 carriage, but held a council of war at the horses' heads. I then 
 presented one of my pistols at the postillion, swearing horribly 
 that I would put him instantly to death if he did not drive over 
 them, and I made him feel the muzzle of the pistol against the 
 back of his head; the fellows on this took to tiieir heels and ran 
 off, and we proceeded on our journey without further interruption. 
 When we arrived at the inn, Braughall, whose goodness of heart 
 is equal to his courage, and no man is braver, began by abusing 
 the postillion for his treachery, and ended by giving him half a 
 crown. I Wanted to break the rascal's bones, but he would not 
 suffer me; and this was the end of our adventure. 
 
 All parties were now fully employed preparing for the ensuing 
 session of parliament. The government, through the organ of the 
 corporations and grand juries, opened a heavy fire upon us of 
 manifestoes and resolutions. At first we were like young soldiers, 
 a little stunned with the noise : but after a fev/ rounds we began 
 to look about us, and seeing nobody drop with all this furious 
 cannonade, we took courage and determined to return the fire. In 
 consequence, wherever there was a meeting of the Protestant 
 ascendenc)^, which was the title assumed by that party (and a very 
 impudent one it was), we took care it should be followed by a 
 meeting of the Catholics, who spoke as loud, and louder than their 
 adversaries; and as we had the right clearly on our side, we found 
 no great difficulty in silencing the enemy on this quarter. The 
 Catholics likewise took care, at the same time that they branded 
 their enemies, to mark their gratitude to their friends, who were 
 daily increasing, and especially to the people of Belfast; between 
 whom and the Catholics the union was now completely established. 
 Among the various attacks made on us this summer, the most 
 remarkable for their virulence were those of the grand jury of 
 Louth, headed by the Speaker of the House of Commons; of 
 Limerick, at which the Lord Chancellor assisted; and of the 
 corporation of the city of Dublin; which last published a most 
 furious manifesto, threatening us, in so many words, with a resistance 
 by force. In consequence, a meeting was held of the Catholics of 
 Dublin at large, which was attended by several thousands, where 
 the manifesto of the corporation was read and most ably commented 
 upon by John Keogh, Dr Ryan, Dr M'Neven, and several others; 
 ;ind a counter-manifesto being proposed, which was written by my 
 friend Emmet, and incomparably well done, it was carried unani- 
 mously, and published in all the papers, together with the speeches 
 above-mentioned; and both the speeches and the manifesto had 
 such an infinite superiority over those of the corporation, which 
 
62 LIFE OP 
 
 were also publislied and diligently circulated by tLe government, 
 that it put an end, effectually, to this warfare of resolutions. 
 
 The people of Belfast were not idle on their part; they spared 
 neither pains nor expense to propagate the new doctrine of the 
 union of Irishmen through the whole north of Ireland; and they 
 had the satisfaction to see their proselytes rapidly extending in ail 
 directions. In order more effectually to spread their principles, 
 twelve of the most active and intelligent amonor them subscribed 
 £250 each, in order to set on foot a paper, whose object should be 
 to give a fair statement of all that passed in France, whither evury 
 one turned their eyes; to inculcate the necessity of union amongst 
 Irishmen of all religious persuasions; to suppott the emancipation 
 of the Catholics; and, finally, as the necessary, though not avowed, 
 consequence of all this, to erect Ireland into a republic, independent 
 of England. This paper, which they called very appositely the 
 Northern Star, was conducted by my friend Samuel Neilson, who 
 was unanimously chosen editor; and it could not be delivered into 
 abler hands. It is, in truth, a most incomparable paper, and it 
 rose instantly on its appearance with a most rapid and extensive 
 s:de. The Catholics everywhere throughout Ireland (I mean the 
 leading Catholics), were, of course, subscribers; and the Northern 
 Star was one great means of effectually accomplishing the union 
 of the two great sects, by the simple process of making their 
 mutual sentiments better known to each other. 
 
 It was determined by the people of Belfast to commemorate 
 this year the anniversary of the taking of the Bastile with great 
 ceremony. For this purpose they planned a review of the 
 volunteers of the town and neighbourhood, to be followed by a 
 grand procession, with emblematical devices, etc. They also 
 determined to avail themselves of this opportunity to bring forvrard 
 the Catholic question in force; and in consequence, they resolved 
 to publish two addresses, one to the people of France, and one to 
 the people of Ireland. They gave instructions to Dr Drennan to 
 prepare the former, and the latter fell to my lot. Drennan 
 executed his task admirably; and I made my address, for my 
 part, as good as I knew how. We were invited to assist at tlie 
 ceremony, and a great number of the leading members of the 
 Catholic committee determined to avail themselves of this oppor- 
 tunity to show their zeal for the success of the cause of liberty in 
 France, as well as their respect and gratitude to their friends in 
 Belfast. In consequence, a grand assembly took place on the 14th 
 July. After the review, the volunteers and inhabitants, to the 
 number of about six thousand, assembled in the Linon-Hall, and 
 voted the address to the French people unanimously. The address 
 
THEOBALD WOLFE TONE. 63 
 
 to tlie peupie of Ireland followed, and, as it was directly and 
 unequivocally in favour of the Catholic claims, we expected some 
 opposition; but we were soon relieved from our anxiety, for the 
 address passed, I may say, unanimously; a few ventured to oppose 
 it indirectly, but their arguments were exposed and overset by the 
 friends to Catholic emancipation, amongst the foremost of whom 
 we had the satisfaction to see several dissenting clergymen of 
 great popularity in that country, as Sinclair Kilburne, William 
 Dixon, and T. Birch. It was William Sinclair who moved the 
 two addresses. It is the less necessary for me to detail what 
 passed at this period, as everything material is recorded in my 
 diary. Suffice it to say, that the hospitality shown by the peoj)le 
 of Belfast to the Catholics, on this occasion, and the personal 
 acquaintance which the parties formed, rivetted the bonds of their 
 recent union, and produced in the sequel the most beneficial and 
 powerful effects. 
 
6d 
 
 CONTINUATION OF THE LIFE 
 
 OP 
 
 THEOBALD WOLFE TONE; 
 
 WRITTEN BY HIS SON. 
 
 In the preceding abstract, written at Paris, from memory, and 
 amidst the most anxious cares, my father brought down the 
 narrative of his life to the middle of July, 1792. From thence, 
 to his arrival in France, elapsed a space of upwards of three years. 
 I feel it my duty to account and apologize for the scantiness of my 
 materials relative to this period, perhaps the most interesting of 
 his career. It was during that time that, young and unknown, 
 acting against all the power and influence of a party, secure in the 
 long enjoyment of unopposed usurpation and insolent authority, 
 he roused the energies of his oppressed countrymen, and rallied 
 the mass of the people, so long divided by conflicting interests and 
 religious animosities, to assert their national independence. 
 
 From the moment he engaged in this cause, he made it a rule 
 to consign in a diary, destined for the sole perusal of his most j 
 intimate friends and family, the passing events of the times, his 
 comments upon them, and his own thoughts and actions. Of this 
 spirited and lively journal, we yet possess, and herewith publish, 
 the part which begins at his arrival in France, and extends to the 
 date of the last expedition, where he perished. But on his 
 departure from America, he left in my mother's hands that which 
 contained the diary of his efforts in Ireland, whilst forming the 
 Society of the United Irishmen, and acting as agent and secretary 
 to the Catholic sub-committee. The experience of our former 
 journey had proved what little respect was then paid by the 
 British cruizers to the neutral American flag, and how unsafe it 
 would have been to have carried such papers along with him. 
 When, at the close of the year 179G, my mother sailed from 
 America to join him, the same reasons still existed. As he had 
 left with Dr Reynolds, of Philadelphia, an old friend and associate 
 
LIFE OP THEOBALD WOLFE TONE. 65 
 
 in liis political career, an unlimited power of attorney to protect his 
 family and manage their affairs in his absence, she trusted to Jiis 
 charge all our little property in America, amounting to some 
 hundreds of pounds sterling, a select library of six hundred 
 volumes, and, above all, my father's papeivs, essays, and manu- 
 scripts, including those journals, and enclosed in a strong corded 
 and sealed trunk, of which she kept the key. I am pained to add 
 that this sacred trust, this pledge of confidence and of friendship, 
 he violated by an unpardonable negligence. Neither during my 
 father's life nor after his death, could our repeated demands, nor 
 our letters and messages by the most respectable and confidential 
 friends who went to America, procure any answer. At length, in 
 the year 1807, when the state of my health compelled us to under- 
 take a sea voyage, and we came to Philadelphia, we called the 
 unfortunate to an account, but he could give none; and, reduced 
 by repeated and severe illness, was then tottering on the verge of 
 life. What could we do ? Serious as the sacrifice v/;!s, in our 
 circumstances, we offered him a full release for the remainder of 
 the property, if he could only put us in the way of recovering the 
 papers. But it was all in vain, for he had them not; he begged 
 me to search his house, and I found the trunk broken open and 
 empty. With a great deal of difiSculty I recovered some fragments 
 dispersed in diifersnt hands, and now published. But his journals 
 of the most important and interesting years, of 1793, 1794, and 
 1795, were irrecoverably gone. The manuscripts of the numerous 
 pamphlets and essays, which my father composed at that time — ■ 
 a great number of which were anonymous, and often ascribed to 
 other hands — as well as the materials of a philosophical and 
 political history of Ireland, which he was then compiling, and had 
 already begun to write, were also lost. Dr Beynolds died within 
 a few weeks, and we were obliged to give up all hopes of 
 discoverina: them. 
 
 By this loss, inappreciable to our feelings, we are deprived of 
 the means of tracing accurately my father's career during those 
 three eventful years ; in which he was constantly employed in sup- 
 porting the spirit of union aiid independence in his country, and 
 performing, as agent to the Catholic committees, those services 
 which, by their parting vote of thanks, they declared "no gratitude 
 could overrate, and no remuneration overpay." As it is not my 
 purpose to write a history of Ireland, nor a political dissertation 
 on the state of that country under its former, never to be forgotten, 
 nor forgiven, government, I will merely indicate, from my mother's 
 recollections, and from the scanty materials which we have 
 recovered, a few of those prominent events in which he was thea 
 
 c 
 
GQ LIFE OF 
 
 engaged, and wliich may elucidate some passages in his subsequent 
 memoirs. 
 
 Of tlie journals, whicli formed the most interesting part of this 
 collection, we have recovered those of Octobsr, 1791, with some 
 trifling fragments of an earlier date, those of July, August, 
 September, October, and November, 1792, and part of January 
 and February, 1793. My father states, in his own memoir, thafe 
 he began to keep them regularly in 1791, when he engaged 
 seriously in the politics of the day. From thence, they extended 
 in a regular series to the middle of 1795, when he sailed for 
 America; but all the remainder, though he frequently refers to 
 them in his other writings, are irrecoverably lost. This loss may 
 be partly supplied by a mutilated abstract of the operations of the 
 general comrnittee and delegation which carried the petition of the 
 Catholics to England; and of their subsecjuent negotiations with 
 the Irish government, from the beginning of December, 1792, to 
 the end of April, 1793, This elegant and lucid report, which we 
 will insert in this portion of his life, as it properly forms a con- 
 tinuation of it, will show how qualified he was to write that history 
 of Ireland, which he had begun, and of which it was probably 
 destined to form a part. 
 
 Along with these papers we have recovered his notes of the 
 sittings of the Catholic general committee, but in a very mutilated 
 state, and written on flying scraps of paper during the debates, 
 along with a few relating to other periods of his life. These were 
 the materials from whence hisjournals were afterwards written, when 
 sitting, surrounded by his wife and children, as I yet remember 
 him, in the evening leisure of his home. Even in this state they 
 are highly interesting. We have also recovered several hundred 
 letters from his personal friends, and from the United Irishmen of 
 Belfast and Dublin, filled with the daily detai's of their hopes, 
 fears, and transactions. Of these we have selected a iexv to 
 illustrate some portions of his life, but the greater number can be 
 but of little interest to the public at this day, though they breathe 
 all the fervour and spirit of the times. Some of his earlier manu- 
 scripts, and several of his printed essays, pamphlets, and smaller 
 pieces, complete this collection, but the greater part of the latter 
 are lost. Such are the materials out of which we must endeavour 
 to trace this portion of my father's life. 
 
 Yv^e have already seen, in the preceding narrative, that in 1791 
 he wrote that pamphlet in favour of the Catholic cause, signed ''a 
 Northern Whig," whose success was so prodigious, and on which 
 he was appointed secretary niid agent to the sub committee, in the 
 place of lvi(;hard r>arke. The following year, 1792, was the most 
 
THE0BAL1> WOLFE TONE. 67 
 
 busy period in liis political career. In tlie coarse of a few montlis, 
 constantly engaged in the same great pursuit, he performed three 
 journeys to Belfast, to effect the union between the Catholics and 
 Dissenters, in which he succeeded, at length, completely; besides 
 several other journeys in Connaught and elsewhere, to rally the 
 Catholics themselves in the common cause, and calm the agitated 
 passions of the Dissenters. The details of these journeys, written 
 in a most playful and lively stj^le, are contained in the journals 
 which we have saved, as well as his negotiations with the Whig 
 leaders, Grattan, Lord Moira, and the Marquis of Abercorn, on 
 behalf of the Catholics. During the same period ho f(.)unded the 
 first clubs of the United Irishmen, whose organization and object 
 were then very different from those which the tyranny of the 
 government afterwards drove them to, when they had spread all 
 over the country. The primitive object of this society was merely 
 to form a union of all religious denominations, whose members, 
 abjuring every former feud, should join their efforts to reform the 
 abuses of the government and constitution of the country, and 
 restore the rights of free and equal citizenship to Irishmen of every 
 sect and religion. Their oath of secrecy and regular organization 
 v\"ere introduced at a later period, and by other leaders, when my 
 father had ceased to have any influence over them, and scarcely 
 held any correspondence with their councils. 
 
 Towards the close of that year, 1792, his arduous efforts to 
 unite the mass of the nation in the sacred cause of union and 
 independence, presented more favourable symptoms of success than 
 at any former period. The Catholics and Dissenters were united, 
 and a new and complete system of representation was organized 
 amongst the former, wdiich enabled them to concentrate in one 
 voice the grievances and opinions of three million of men. This 
 great result wits obtained by the unremitting efforts of the sub- 
 committee of Dublin, as well as of my father. They had been 
 charged, especially after the defection of Lord Kenmare and sixty- 
 eight of the leading and aristocratical Catholics, who had seceded 
 in the preceding year from the great body of their brethren, with 
 assuming falsely the character of representatives of the Catholic 
 interest. In consequence, after rousing, by every possible means, 
 the spirit of their party through the whole kingdom, and av/aken- 
 ing tlicra to a sense of their wrongs and grievances, they summoned 
 from every county and city in Ireland, a number of fairly and 
 freely elected representatives, to join in their deliberations. 
 
 In the beginning of December, 1792, that general committee of 
 the Catholics of Ireland, which first represented the whola strength 
 of their body, opened their meetings; and the single cu'cumstanc© 
 
g3 tJi^K OF 
 
 of their sitting, with all the forms of a legislative assembly, in the 
 capital, produced a kind of awe and stupefaction in the govern- 
 ment. Never did such a convention begin its proceedings under 
 auspices more favourable. Their friends were roused; their 
 enemies stunned; and the British government, extremely em- 
 barrassed at home, showed no desire to interfere. From a letter 
 of Richard Burke, mentioned in my father's journals of 23d and 
 24th July, 1792, and quoted in the Appendix, with his answer, 
 they concluded that England was determined on remaining neutral 
 in the controversy. To yield without a struggle, and recommend 
 themselves as w^ell as they could to the ruling party, as that 
 gentleman advised, was a counsel too cowardly to be followed. 
 They felt secure in their own strength, which their adversaries — 
 and even their friends (see Burke's letter) had much undervalued 
 — in the spirit and union of the people, and in the support of the 
 Dissenters; and determined on bringing matters to a close by 
 addressing the monarch directly against their own government. 
 Had they persevered in the same spirit with which they began, 
 they would undoubtedly have succeeded. 
 
 The immediate purpose of this meeting was to draw a statement 
 of their grievances, a vindication of the Catholics, and a petition 
 to the king; and to address them directly to his majesty, without 
 sending them through the channel of the Irish administration. 
 These papers, the first which fairly reproso;,ted the whole extent 
 of their grievances, and claimed the total repeal of those penal 
 laws by which nine-tenths of the population were deprived of the 
 rights of citizenship, and almost of humanity, in their own country, 
 were all drawn by my father, the only Protestant in the assembly; 
 and he accompanied the delegation, which presented them to the 
 
 sovereio'n.''* 
 
 On this occasion I must observe that, notvvithstanding the 
 affected alarm of the Irish government at a mere playful and 
 theoretical letter of his, which, as I have formerly stated, fell after- 
 wards into their hands; at this time he only sought to obtain, 
 without the struggles of a revolution, the gradual emancipation of 
 his country by legal and constitutional means; by uniting the 
 Dissenters and Catholics, who formed the mass of the people, to 
 overwhelm the ruling and oppressive minority of the Protestant 
 ascendency, and deprive it of its usurped privileges. And well 
 would it have been for England, if her administration had had the 
 sense and determination to support the cause of justice instead of 
 
 * Mr Tone, Jun., gives these documents, which having no further direct connection 
 with the personal history of his father than what is afforded by the facts above-mentioned, 
 aie omitted. — Ed, oj A utobiography. 
 
THEOBALD WOLFE TONE. ()3 
 
 that of oppression. The millions which have been expended, and 
 the oceans of blood which have been shed in Ireland, would have 
 been spared; she would have secured the gratitude and attachment 
 of its warm-bearted population, and acquired a faithful and useful 
 ally to fight by her side in her subsequent contests, instead of a 
 chained enemy, requiring the constant employment of half her 
 forces to keep him pinned to the earth. 
 
 During the whole course of the year 1792, the progress of the 
 Catholic interest had been rapid and decisive; at its close, the 
 government of Ireland seemed paralysed, and the general committee, 
 supported by the whole power of the Dissenters, and by all the 
 liberal Protestants in the country, and the Whig party in parlia- 
 ment, conquered the monarch's approbation of their claims and the 
 assent of the British ministry. The weakness of some of their own 
 leaders, and the skill, promptitude, and decision of their adversaries, 
 soon altered this favourable prospect. 
 
 In a better cause, the able and energetical measures of the Irish 
 government and Protestant ascendency party, would deserve the 
 highest admiration. Threatened in the vital principle of their 
 unjust monopoly of power, unsupported by the British ministry, 
 they were stunned for a moment at the unexpected vigour of a 
 party which they had too long despised. Bat, recovering shortly 
 from the panic, they felt the pulse of those leaders, who seemed 
 astonished at their own success. It is remarkable, and belong-s, 
 perhaps, to an innate principle in human nature, that the Catholic 
 leaders displayed much more spirit in pleading their cause amongst 
 strangers, and before the monarch himself, than when they had to 
 settle the terms of that relief, already granted, wdth those subor- 
 dinate ministers of his, before whose insolence and oppression they 
 had bent so long in submission. They then seemed to recognize 
 that frown to which they had been accustomed; and the Irish 
 administration perceiving its advantages, instantly assumed a 
 higher tone. Offering the repeal of such of the penal statutes as 
 were too odious and had fallen in disuse, and granting the elective 
 franchise, which, in the organization of society and property 
 in Ireland, could confer no effectual power on the Catholics, they 
 retained the monopoly of all the real elements of that power, and 
 artfully dclayiiig the passage of the bill thus mutilated, made them 
 nuderstand that it should depend on their passive and quiet 
 demeanour. In the meantime, having secured, for the moment, 
 the silence of the expecting Catholics, they bent all their efforts 
 against the reformers and the rebublicans of the north, who had 
 so powerfully assisted them. They profited of the alarm excited 
 by the horrors of the French Revolution; they roused the fears of 
 
70 £IFE OF 
 
 all men of property ii)ia timidit}'-; they .seciued, by sacrificing the 
 interests of their coiiiilry, the co-operation of the iiiercaritile and 
 manufacturing classes in England, and overawed and intimidated 
 Lveii the British ministry. The very cloak of patriotism served 
 Aie'iY designs; they exclaimed against the interference of that 
 ministry as an encroachment on the national independence of the 
 imperial crown of Ireland, and were readily supported by those 
 who possessed the monopoly of that independence. At home they 
 possessed all the powers of the government, the army, the trcasiir3% 
 the judiciary, magistracy, clergy, landed property, and corporations; 
 they rallied all their efforts; and, on pretence of some trifling 
 troubles in the north between the Defenders and Peep-of-day 
 Boys, called out all the forces of the nation, augmented the army, 
 raised the militia and yeomanry, and disarmed the people. The 
 gentry, magistracy, and clergy of the Established Church every- 
 where seconded these efforts. Unscrupulous as to their means, 
 bloody, unsparing, and uncompromising Vv'ith their enemies, they 
 established, at the same time, and under the same pretext, with 
 the consent of the Whig as w^ell as the Tory interest, that secret 
 committee, whose operations soon equalled, in cruelty and illegal 
 violence, those of the Star Chamber in England, the Inquisition in 
 Spain, the bloody tribunals of the Duke of Alva, and the Comiie 
 de Salut public in France. In short, under pretence of resisting a 
 revolutionary spirit in Ireland, they assumed themselves a revolu- 
 tionary vigour beyond the law. When secure of all those means, 
 they passed, at length, that mutilated bill, cramped by so many 
 restrictions, and granted with such manifold reluciance, that it 
 was received by the mass of the Catholic body with as little 
 gratitude as it deserved. 
 
 Those measures of the Irish administration, though able and 
 vigorous, and calculated to rescue them from their impending 
 danger, were, however, founded on narrow and short-sighted views. 
 They succeeded; but it was evident that they would finally render 
 that government so odious and unpopular that it would be unable 
 to stand. The British ministry acted on principles of more long- 
 sighted policy. Their sagacity cannot be doubted. Aiming 
 already, in all probability, at the future incorporation of that 
 country, the more unpopular its government rendered itself, the 
 better was it for their ends in the long run. In fact, the most 
 violent declamations of the United Irishmen, which led them by 
 thousands to the dungeon, the transport hulk, the picket, and the 
 halter, never pictured its crimes in more glowing colours than 
 they were afterwards displayed by Lord Castlereagh himself, long 
 the remorseless agent of its cruelties, and then the venal instrument 
 
THEOEALD AVOLFE TONE. 71 
 
 of its dissolution, in his speeches on the union. The Britiiih 
 ministry foresaw that both parties, exhausted by the approaching 
 and inevitable struggle, and weakened by their mutual hatred and 
 disunion, would be obliged to yield up the independence of their 
 country, as the price of peace and protection. If so, their calcula- 
 tion, however cruel and selfish, was justified by the event. 
 
 In Ireland, the confusion and disorder which these determined 
 operations threw in the councils of all the well-wishers to reform, 
 union, and independence, was, for a while, very great. The 
 indignant Dissenters exclaimed that they were deserted and 
 betrayed by those whom they had assisted; the great body of the 
 Catholics were equally dissatisfied with such an imperfect termina- 
 tion to their high-raised hopes, and with the want of spirit in their 
 leaders. It must be observed, however, that, in the beginning of 
 these affairs, there was a radical difference between those two 
 parties. The Dissenters, from the early character of their sect, 
 were mostly republicans from principle. The great mass of the 
 Catholics only became so through oppression and persecution. 
 Had they not been goaded by tyranny in every hour and in every 
 act of their lives, had they been freely admitted to an equal share 
 in the benefits of the constitution, they would have become, by the 
 very spirit of their religion, the most peaceable, obedient, orderly, 
 and well-affectioned subjects of the empire. Their proud and old 
 gentry, and their clergy, inclined even rather to feudal and 
 chivalrous, and somewhat to Tory principles, than to those of 
 democracy. But common sufferings now united them in a common 
 hatred of the government, and desire for its subversion. 
 
 The next session of the general committee, which opened a few 
 days after this act of partial relief, was stormy in the extreme. 
 The cause of freedom and of union was advocated in some of the 
 most brilliant speeches recorded in the annals of Irish eloquence; 
 the attacks of the patriotic members on the government, and on 
 their own leaders, were formidable and vigorous. The defence of 
 these leaders was, however, plausible. Charged with a very 
 difficult negotiation, they had, in ftict, obtained, as they asserted, 
 a very real and substantial, although a partial, relief. But the 
 crisis for freeing their country was passed; the favourable oppor- 
 tunity was lost, perhaps never to return. The government felt its 
 strength, and began, from that moment, to act on the infernal 
 system of goading the people to desperation and open insurrection, 
 in order to colour and justify the violence of their measures. The 
 assembly parted at length, with the usual vote of thanks to their 
 real and pretended friends, but without coming to any important 
 decision on the great object of their meeting. 
 
72 LIFE OF 
 
 This cliaiige of circumstances was most disLeartoning to those 
 eager and disinterested spirits who had devoted themselves to tho 
 cause of the Catholics; because, in tlie first place, it was just; and 
 that in the second, their enfranchisement was a necessary pre- 
 liminary to the emancipation of Ireland, to the reform of her 
 government, and to the establishment of a free and equal system 
 of national representation. The bitter feelings v^hich filled my 
 father's breast at this first failure of hopes which had been so nearly 
 gratified, and the further views which he then began to meditate, 
 can be traced more freely in his journals of January and February, 
 1793, where he gave way to them without control, than in the 
 preceding abstract, which was evidently written with caution, and 
 destined for publication. They may also be found in his notes on 
 the debates of the general committee in April; but chiefly, perhaps, 
 in the following loose fragment of his thoughts, which I have 
 found amongst his papers, dated March 27th, 1793, 
 
 " Sudden change of deputation, on our return from England — 
 Last conversation previous to leaving London — Bellew's visit, and 
 mine, to the castle — All set aside by the first visit of the whole 
 deputation — Negotiation, giving up both Houses of Parliament — 
 People then unanimous and spirited, but soon disheartened by this 
 unaccountable conduct of their former leaders — Great advantages 
 of the castle over us in negotiation — My own opposition to com- 
 promise — Compelled to give it up at last. Consequence of this 
 dereliction; a loss of all public spirit — Low state of government 
 at the opening of the session, as appeared from their admitting 
 the principle of reform — Their recovery from the indecision 
 of Catholics — Consequent carrying, under cover of the Catholic 
 bill, the gunpowder and militia acts, augmentation of army, pro- 
 clamations, etc. — Motives of Catholic leaders; not corruption — 
 Some negotiation carried on by one of them in London, unknown 
 to the others — The others, probably, unwilling to risk their estates. 
 
 " Suppression of Belfast volunteers — Feelings of the North 
 thereupon — Probable consequences of any mishap befalling the 
 English in the war — Ten thousand French would accomplish a 
 separation. 
 
 "Secret committee — First object to vilify the Catholic com- 
 mittee; failing that, to fix a charge of separation on the pei>p]e 
 here, and thereby induce the English minister to support a union 
 — Possible, by proper means, to carry said union; also, possible to 
 fail, and then the countries infallibly- separated. 
 
 "War unpopular here — trade very bad — credit rather better 
 than in England. 
 
 *' Government apparently strong and people subdued; probably 
 
THEOBALD WOLFE TONE. 73 
 
 both fallacious — Accessions to people permanent, to government 
 but temporary — Gunpowder act no prevention, if the people are 
 determined to have arms — Militia will not dragoon the people; 
 bad policy to exasperate them, and then make militia of them, 
 that is, give them arms and discipline." 
 
 [To the eternal dishonour of the Irish militia, my father was 
 mistaken in this particular; he did not calculate sufficiently on the 
 effect of the esprit de corps in embodied troops.] 
 
 •'Secret committee examine, even about me; have my letter to 
 Russell; proof of their w^eakness when they descend so low." 
 
 Such w^ere the ideas fermenting in his mind. But the increasing 
 insolence and cruelty of the administration soon roused the spirit 
 of the people, and rallied their anger and divided parties. Openly 
 trampling on law and decency, its oppressive measures fired the 
 hearts of the multitude with indignation, and spread the afiiliation 
 of the United Irishmen more rapidly than could have been done 
 by all the efforts of the patriotic leaders. Their views were no 
 longer bounded to Catholic emancipation and reform of parliament; 
 they aimed at separation, liberty, and even revenge. Their 
 societies took a fiercer character, and then, for the first time, began 
 those secret oaths and associations by v/hich their members bound 
 themselves; whilst the Orange lodges, with forms at least as 
 illegal as those of the United Irishmen, and purposes as diabolical 
 as those of the others were pure and liberal, were encouraged by 
 the government all over the country. To unite all sects and 
 parties, for the independence of Ireland, w\as the professed object 
 of the first; to support the exclusive privileges of the members of 
 the Anglican church, and keep the rest of the nation in slavery for 
 ever, of the second. And, in opposing the principles of those two 
 societies, I have selected those only which were openly avowed by 
 both bodies. 
 
 The two parties were thus arrayed in opposition to each other, 
 and it soon became evident that the contest could only be finally 
 decided by force; and that if England continued to support the ruling 
 party with all her power and influence, the other had no resource 
 but to break the connexion between the two countries, and establish 
 a national and independent government. This idea had often 
 mingled with the dreams of my father's youth; but he then, for 
 the first time, began to consider it seriously. As foreign aid was 
 indispensable for this purpose, since their enemies had all the 
 power of administration, and all that of England to back them, 
 the Irish leaders, and he amongst the rest, naturally cast their eyea 
 and hopes, although no positive overtures were made till some time 
 afterwards, towards the rising fortunes of the French Republic. 
 
74 LIFE OF 
 
 She was then struggling, with unparalleled spirit and success, 
 against the arms of all Europe, and animated by the most violent 
 resentment against Englaiid. In the beginning of their revolution, 
 the French had looked up to that country Vv'ith hopes and confi- 
 dence; they had expected the praises and countenance of the freest 
 and most liberal people in Europe, for breaking their own chains ; 
 and, on the first celebration of their independence (14tli July), had 
 blended in a wreath the flags of England and America with 
 their own tri-colour. But England, supporting the coalition of the 
 European kings, began then, as she has continued ever since, to 
 oppose the springing liberties of the remainder of mankind, as if 
 she wished to monopolize the benefits of freedom, as well as those 
 of trade and manufactures. 
 
 My father's part, during this period, was most trying and 
 difficult. With the Whig party he was utterly disgusted. In his 
 opinion, whatever professions they had formerly made were violated 
 by their joining the government in those extraordinary and illegal 
 measures. They showed themselves as much afraid of a real and 
 radical reform in the social organization and government of the 
 country, as the Tories themselves; and yet so unnatural was the 
 state of Ireland, that such a change was indispensable before it 
 could be settled in a state of any stability. As for the revolutionary 
 spirit, of which they now affected such fears, it miglit have been 
 totally suppressed by an early conciliation of the Catholics, and a 
 just allowance of their claims. With the Catholics and United 
 Irishmen he had to combat alternate fits of despondency and 
 enthusiasm, and to reconcile continual discords. At one time, 
 when it was endeavoured to form a corps of volunteers from all 
 the religious sects, they expressed their alarm and distrust at the 
 small number of Protestants who presented themselves. "And 
 are you not the nation?' replied he; *'do without them; will you 
 not keep, if you are not corned with Protestants ? '^ 
 
 At other times, on the contrary, their enthusiasm, roused by the 
 energetical efforts and dazzling exploits of tlie French republicans; 
 and their indignation kindled by the op[)ression of the government, 
 burst out into imprudent and extravagant excesses. My father 
 endeavoured to restrain them ; but the only consequence of his 
 efforts was, that ho lost all influence in the United Irish clubs, his 
 own creation, but who had now assumed a new spirit and organi- 
 zation. As in all periods of popular fermentation, the loudest and 
 boldest talkers took the lead, and the papers teemed daily with the 
 most imprudent and inflammatory publications. These ebullitions 
 of impotent resentment, by which they only favoured the views of 
 the administration, he always condemned. Numbers of them 
 
THEOBALD WOLFE TONE. 75 
 
 agreed to call each other by the title of citizen; and he frequently 
 received letters through the post office, written in imitation of the 
 popular style of the French Jacobins, and addressed to Citizen 
 Theobald Wolfe Tone. His good sense pointed out to him the 
 danger and folly of such idle demonstrations. " Make yourself 
 free/' would he say, "and call yourself what you please. But you 
 are no more citizens for shutting yourselves up in a room, and 
 calling yourselves by that name, than you w^ould be all peers and 
 noblemen, by calling each other my lord." Such was his general 
 dissatisfaction at the state of affairs, that he retired in a great 
 degree from the jjolitical arena, and spent most of his time at a 
 small country seat which he inherited by the death of his uncle, 
 captain Jonathan Tone. On every occasion, however, of danger 
 and difficulty, he was prominent, and ready to assume the post of 
 peril and honour. 
 
 But it is not my purpose to write a history of Ireland. During 
 the year which followed the passage of the act of April, 1793, the 
 storm did not yet burst, but it was lowering and thickening every 
 hour, with terrific and portentous gloom. Blood had not yet 
 flowed, and the reign of torture had not yet commenced; but a 
 noxious crowd of inform -^rs, from the fseces of society, began to 
 appear like the vermin and insects from the mud of Egypt, under 
 the fostering patronage of the castle; state prosecutions were 
 multiplied beyond example: juries were packed, and iniquitous 
 judgments rendered; the soldiery were quartered on the disaffected 
 districts, and indulged in every licence; the affections of the people 
 were alienated for ever, and their irritation increased to madness. 
 It is not mv intention to enter into the details of these odious 
 transactions. Amongst the most marked events which indicated 
 the increasing violence of all parties, and the approaching crisis of 
 the storm, were the arrests, trials, and imprisonment of my ftither's 
 friends, Archibald Hamilton Rowan, Simon Butler, and Oliver 
 Bond. The declarations and speeches for which they were arrested, 
 and those made on their trials, are in every history of the times, 
 and in every recollection. It is needless here to dwell upon or 
 recapitulate them. 
 
 At length, in the month of April, 1794, William Jackson was 
 arrested on a charge of high treason. This gentleman was sent by 
 the French government to sound the people of Ireland as to their 
 willingness to join the French, and had received his instructions 
 from one Madgett, an old Irishman, long settled in France, in the 
 office of the departn^.ent for foreign affairs, and whose name is 
 repeatedly mentioned in ray father's journals. The sincerity of 
 Jackson was fully demonstrated by his heroic death; but his im- 
 
76 LIFE OF 
 
 prudence and indiscretion rendered him totally unfit for such a 
 mission. On his pcassage through England, he opened himself to 
 an English attorney, Cockayne, an old acquaintance of his, who 
 instantly sold his information to the British government, and was 
 ordered by the police to follow him as an official spy. The leaders 
 of the patriotic party and Catholics in Ireland, desirous as they 
 were to open a communication with France, wore unwilling to 
 compromise themselves with a stranger, by answering directly to 
 his overtures. My father undertook to run the risk ; and even 
 engaged himself to bear their answer to that country, and deliver 
 to its government a statement of the wants and situation of Ireland. 
 But after some communications with Jackson, he was deeply dis* 
 gusted by the rash and unlimited confidence which that unfortunate 
 man seemed to repose in Cockayne. He made it a point never to 
 open himself in his presence, and insisted on it with Jackson. 
 " This business," said he, " is one thing for us Irishmen ; but an 
 Englishman who engages in it must be a traitor one way or the 
 other." At length, on a glaring instance of Jackson's indiscretion, 
 he withdrew his offers, taking care that it should be in the 
 presence of Cockayne, who could testify nothing further against 
 him, and declined engaging any longer in the business. Jackson 
 was shortly after arrested. 
 
 This was an awful period. Although Cockayne could only give 
 positive evidence against Jackson, the latter might undoubtedly 
 have saved his life by giving information. The most violent 
 suspicions were directed against my father, as being privy at least 
 to those plots, if not engaged in them. Every night he expected 
 to be arrested for examination before the secret committee. 
 Several of the patriotic and Catholic leaders, most from attachment 
 to him, some for fear of being compromised by his arrest, urged 
 him to abscond; and many of those highly respectable and beloved 
 friends, whom, notwithstanding the difference of their political 
 opinions, his amiable character and social qualities had secured to 
 him amongst the aristocracy and higher classes, joined in the same 
 request, and pressed upon him the means necessary for that 
 purpose. He constantly refused them. The great body of the 
 Catholics behaved, on this occasion, with firmness and dignity, and 
 showed a proper sense of gratitude for his former services. Several 
 of the Whig leaders (amongst whom I am sorry to include the 
 honourable name of Grattan), whose party he had mortally 
 offended by refusing to engage in their service as a pamphleteer, 
 advised them to abandon him to his fate, and told them, " How 
 could their parliamentary friends support them whilst they retained 
 in their service a man so obnoxious and so deeply compromised?" 
 
THEOBALD WOLFE TONE. 77 
 
 They rejected all such overtures. I must, however, observe that, 
 though my fother had put himself forward in their cause, on this 
 occasion, most of their leaders were as deeply engaged as himself, 
 and could neither in honour, in justice, nor in prudence, act other- 
 wise — a circumstance of which Grattan was probably not aware. 
 
 During all this time he refused, much against the advice of his 
 friends, to conceal himself; but remained, generally, at his home 
 ill the country, compiling his history of Ireland, and making 
 occasional visits to Dublin, where he continued to act as secretary 
 to the Catholic sub-committee. At length, by the most pressing 
 instances with the government, his aristocratical friends succeeded 
 in concluding an agreement, by which on his engaging simply to 
 leave Ireland, as soon as he could settle his private affairs, no 
 pursuits were to be made against him. I cannot think that the 
 most furious . partizans of that government could blame those 
 generous and disinterested efforts (for these friends were opposed 
 to him in politics), or that their names can suffer in the slightest 
 degree Ity the publication of these facts. One of them, the 
 honourable Marcus Beresford, the amiable and accomplished, is now 
 no more; the other, the honourable and high-minded George Knox, 
 will, I am sure, see with pleasure this homage to his virtues, by 
 his own god-son, and the only surviving child of his departed friend. 
 
 As this compromise (for these true friends would never have 
 proposed any other) engaged him to nothing contrary to his 
 principles, and left his future course free, he accepted it; giving in 
 to them a fair and exact statement of how far and how deep he had 
 been personally engaged in this business; and adding, that he was 
 ready to bear the consequences of whatever he had done; but would, 
 on no account, charge, compromise, or appear against any one else. 
 
 Of this transaction he drew, before his departure from Ireland, 
 the following full and manly narrative, which we insert entire, as 
 well as the statement above-mentioned. The only fact which, in 
 both these papers, he passes over in silence, from obvious and 
 generous reasons, is, that any others were privy to these communi- 
 cations with Jackson. He assumes them as the sole act of his 
 own will. A copy of the notice on the situation of Ireland, whicli 
 he had given in to Jackson, fell into the hands of the government. 
 
 Statement of Mr' Tones compromise ivith the Tmh Government. 
 
 " Having seen in a newspaper report of the trial of the Rev. 
 William Jackson, the testimony of Mr Keane, in which he mentions 
 that he understands I have compromised with government, I think 
 it a duty incumbent upon me, feeling as I do that the expression 
 carries a very invidious import, to state wh;it the nature of that 
 
78 LIFE OP 
 
 compromise is. At tlie time of Mr Jackson's arrest, and Mr 
 Rowan's escape, and Dr Reynolds's emigration, my situation was a 
 very critical one. I felt the necessity of taking immediate and 
 decided measures to extricate myself. I, therefore, went to a 
 gentleman, high in confidence with the then administration, and 
 told him at once, fairly, every step I liad taken. I told him, also, 
 that I knew how far I was in danger; that my life was safe, 
 unless it was unfairly practised against, which I did not at all 
 apprehend; but that it was certainly in the power of the 
 government, if they pleased, to ruin me, as effectually as they 
 possibly could by my death; that, on two points, I had made 
 up my mind; the first was, that I would not fly; the other, that 
 I would never open my lips, as a witness, either against Mr Rowan, 
 to whom I felt myself bound by the strongest ties of esteem and 
 regard: or against Mr Jackson, who, in whatever conversations he 
 had held in my presence, must have supposed he was speaking to 
 a man who would not betray him : that I had no claim whatsoever 
 on the government, nor should I murmur at any course they might 
 please to adopt. What I had done, I had done, and, if necessary, 
 I must pay the penalty; but, as my ruin might not be an object 
 to them, I was ready, if I Vv^ere allowed, and could at all accom- 
 plish it, to go to America. In the meantime, here I was, ready 
 to submit to mj'' fate, whatever that might be, but inflexibly deter- 
 mined on the two points v^hich I have mentioned above, and for 
 which I would sacrifice my life a thousand times, rather than 
 recede. The gentleman to whom I addressed myself, after a short 
 time, assured me that I should not be attacked as a principal, nor 
 summoned as a witness; which assurance he repeated to me 
 afterwards on another occasion, and has been very faithfully kept. 
 This assurance was given me unclogged by any stipulation or 
 condition whatsoever; and I have ever since, to the best of my 
 judgment, observed a strict neutrality. Whether this, which is 
 the whole of the communication between government and me, be 
 a compromise or not, I hope, at least, it is no dishonourable one. 
 I have betrayed no friend; I have revealed no secret; I have 
 abused no confidence. For what I had done I was ready to suffer; 
 I would, if necessary, submit I hope to death, but I would not to 
 what I consider disgrace. As to that part of my conduct which 
 was introductory to this unfortunate business, I leave it, without 
 anxiety, to the censure of all inclined to condemn it." 
 
 Statement of Mr Tones communications ivith Jackson. 
 
 " Some days previous to the Drogheda assizes, I was informed 
 by A, that there was a gentleman in town, who waG very 
 
THEOBALD WOLFE TONE. 79 
 
 recently arrived from France, and who, he suspected, was in the 
 confidence of the Comite de Saliit public. I was very desirous to 
 see him, in order to hear some account of the state of F'rance, 
 
 which might be depended on. A. accordingly wrote a note, 
 
 which he gave me to deliver, stating that he could not have the 
 pleasure of seeing the gentleman next day, being Sunday, but 
 would be glad if he would call any other time; and, I believe, 
 added, that the bearer was his particular friend. I did not then, 
 
 nor since, ask A. hotv he became acquainted with the gentleman, 
 
 nor do I yet know who introduced him. I went with this note, and 
 saw the gentleman and another person'^ at the hotel, where they 
 lodged. I stayed about half an hour, and the conversation was 
 either on mere general politics, or the want of accommodation for 
 travellers in Ireland; the superiority of England in that respect, 
 etc. On my rising to depart, the gentleman asked me to dine 
 with him on Wednesday subsequent, which I accordingly agreed 
 to do. On the Monday after, as I recollect, I paid a visit to A. 
 
 ■ , which I was in the habit of doing daily, for some time back; 
 
 and while I was there, the gentleman above mentioned and his 
 
 friend came in together; and, for some time, he and A. 
 
 entered into close conversation, and his friend and I retired to a 
 distant part of tiie room, where we talked of the mode of travelling 
 in Ireland, and amused ourselves looking over Taylor's map for 
 about half an hour. Neither of us heard, nor could hear, the 
 
 conversation between A. and th^ gentleman. A. , at 
 
 length, beckoned me over, and I went. He then said they had 
 been talking of the state of the country; that I knew what that 
 state was as well as anybody; and that it was that gentleman's 
 opinion, that if it were made fully known to people in France, 
 they would, to a certainty, afford every assistance to enable the 
 Irish to assert their independence. I said that it would be a most 
 severe and grievous remedy for our abuses, but that I saw no 
 other; for, that liberty was shackled in Ireland by such a variety 
 of ways, that the people had no way left to expose their sentiments 
 but by open resistance. That, in the alternative between that and 
 unconditional submission, many w^ould differ; but that I was one 
 of those who, seeing all the danger and horror of a contest, still 
 thought the independence of the country an object worth risking 
 all to obtain; satisfied as I was, that, until that were secured, 
 Ireland would never attain to her natural state of power, and 
 
 opulence, and glory. In these sentiments A. concurred, and 
 
 the gentleman, as I recollect, again said, 'If this were known in 
 France, assistance might certainly be obtained.' The conversati.-^n, 
 
 * Cockayne. 
 
80 LIFE OV 
 
 at that time, went no farther. I had a latent suspicion h-e might 
 possibly be an emissary of the British minister, and therefore to 
 mortify him, if that were the case, I spoke with the greatest 
 asperity of the English nation, and of their unjust influence on the 
 government of Ireland. His friend sat at a distance during this 
 conversation, and I am sure could have heard no part of it, neither 
 
 did I inquire, nor do I know, what conversation A. and the 
 
 gentleman had previous to their beckoning me over; and the reason 
 I did not inquire was, that, not knowing how the atfair might 
 terminate, and especially not knowing but this person might be 
 an English spy, I determined I would know as little of other 
 people's secrets as I could, consistent with my taking any part in 
 the business. 
 
 " The next day, I think, I saw A. again. He showed me 
 
 a paper, adniirably drawn up, in my judgment, which he said ho 
 had got from the gentleman above mentioned. The paper went 
 to show the political state of England, and the deduction was, 
 that an invasion there would tend to unite all parties against the 
 French, I said the state of Ireland was totally different, and that 
 it would be easy, in the same compass, to explain that on paper. 
 He bid me try, and I agreed to do so. I do not recollect that we 
 had any further conversation at that time. I went home, and that 
 evening made a sketch of the state of Ireland, as it appeared to 
 me, and the inference of my paper was, that circumstances in Ire- 
 land were favourable to a French invasion. I made no copy. 
 
 "On Wednesday morning, the day I had fixed to dine with the 
 gentleman and his friend, I found myself called upon to go down 
 to Drogheda immediately, to arrange matters preparatory to the 
 trial of MM. Bird and Hamill, etc. I therefore wrote, and sent an 
 apology, stating the fact. I then went, as usual, to call on ]\Ir A. 
 
 , and showed him the paper. Shortly after, the gentleman 
 
 and his friend came in. After a short general conversation of 
 
 regret at the disappointment, etc., A. , the gentleman, and I, 
 
 retired to a window at one end of the room, and his friend took 
 up a book and retired to the other end. The conversation between 
 us was carried on in a very low voice, so that he could not possibly 
 hear us. I then said I had seen the English paper, and had 
 attempted a similar sketch as to Ireland, which I read. As I 
 understand some copy of that paper has been found, I refer to that 
 
 for the general outline only, as A. • assured me that several 
 
 alterations had been made in it, some, I believe, softening, and 
 others aggravating, the matter contained. When I had done, the 
 gentleman asked me, ' Would I entrust the paper to hiui 1 ' I 
 gave it without hesitation, but immediately after I saw I 
 
THEOBALD WOLFE TONE. 81 
 
 had been guilty of a gross indiscretion, to call it no worse, 
 in delivering such a paper to a person whom I hardly knew, and 
 without my knowing to what purposes he might apply it. I 
 therefore, in about live minutes, demanded it back again; he 
 returned it immediately, having neither opened nor read it, nor 
 
 any part of it. I then gave it to A. , and I believe the 
 
 precise words I used, but certainly the purport of them was, 
 ' that if he had a mind, he might make a copy,' in which case T 
 desired him to burn the one I gave him. The conversation then 
 turned, as before, on the state of Ireland; the necessity of seekmg 
 aid from France; and her readiness and ability to afford it, if a 
 proper person could be found who would go over, and lay the 
 situation of things here before the Gomite de Saint public. But I 
 
 do not recollect that either A. , the gentleman, or I, came to 
 
 the definite point of myself being that proper person. 1 went 
 
 away, leaving the paper, as I said, in the hands of A. , and 
 
 set off directly for Drogheda. 
 
 " On Saturday morning I received a letter from A. (a 
 
 circumstance which I had forgotten, until my sitting down to 
 write, and referring to dates for greater accuracy, revived it in mj! 
 memory), expressing an earnest desire to see me immediately on 
 indispensable business. In consequence, I set off instantly, posted 
 
 up to town, and called directly on A. . He told me that the 
 
 gentleman was in a great hurry to be off, and wanted to see me of 
 all things. I could not, however, learn that any new mntter had 
 occurred, and therefore was a little vexed at being hurried up to 
 town for nothing. I said, however, I could call on the gentleman the 
 next morning (Sunday) at nine, which I was, however, determined 
 not to do; and, in consequence, instead of calling on him, set off 
 for Drogheda at six o'clock. On Thursday I returned to town, 
 
 and received a rebuke from A. for breaking my engagement. 
 
 He then told me, to my unspeakable astonishment and vexation, 
 that he had given two or three copies of the paper I had left with 
 him, to the gentleman, with several alterations, but that he had 
 burned my copy, as I had desired him. Finding the thing done, 
 and past recalling, I determined to find no fault, but to withdraw 
 myself as soon as I could from a business wherein I saw such 
 grievous indiscretion. I am not sure whether it was on that, or 
 on the next morning, that the gentleman and hh friend came in. 
 But, after some time, the conversation was taken up on the usual 
 topics; and for the first time, to my knowledge, the gentleman's 
 friend made one. Before that he seemed to me to avi)id it, I 
 then took an opportunity, on the difficulty of a proper person being 
 found to go to France being stated, and it being mentioned (I 
 
82 LIFE OP 
 
 cannot precisely recollect by whom of the party), that no one was, 
 in all respects, so fit as myself, to recapitulate pretty nearly what 
 I had said in all the preceding conversations on the general state 
 of the country; and I then added, that with regard to my going 
 to France, I was a man of no fortune, that my sole dependence 
 was on a profession; that I had a wife and three children, whom 
 I dearly loved, solely depending on me for support; that I could 
 not go and leave them totally unprovided for, and trusting to the 
 mercy of Providence for existence; and that, consequently, with 
 regard to me, the going to France was a thing totally impossible. 
 They all agreed that what I said was reasonable, but there was no 
 offer of money o?' pecuniary cssislance of any kind held out to induce 
 me to change my deiermi nation; a circumstance which I mention 
 merely because I understand that it is believed that some such 
 was made. 
 
 '^ The gentleman before mentioned was about to point out 
 certain circumstances which would facilitate such an expedition, 
 if a person could be found; but I stopped him, adding, that as I 
 could make no use of the information, I did not desire to become 
 the depositary of secrets useless to me, and which might be 
 dangerous to him. I think it was at this conversation, the last I 
 was at, previous to the gentleman's being arrested, that some one, I 
 cannot at all ascertain whom, mentioned a letter being put into 
 the post office, containing the papers before mentioned; and directed 
 to some person at some neutral port; but I am utterly igijorant 
 how, or when, or to whom, the letter was addressed, or what were 
 its contents,, other than as I have now stated; and ,the reason of 
 my not knowing is, that I studiously avoided burdening my mind 
 with secrets, which I might afterwards be forced to betray, or 
 submit to very severe inconveniences. What happened after the 
 gentleman's being arrested, I know not, other than by common 
 
 report, having only seen him for about two minutes in A. 's 
 
 apartment, on the night of his committal, when all the conversation 
 
 I recollect w^as, that I declared, and so did A. , that if w^e 
 
 were brought before the privy council we would each of us declare 
 ,^the truth as nearly as we could, consistent with our personal safety; 
 for that all attempts at fabrication would only add infamy to peril, 
 and that we must now take our chance. 
 
 " I have now stated, as well as my memory enables me, all the 
 material facts which came to my knowledge, or in which I took 
 any share. I find I was present at three conversations, instead of 
 two, as I at first thought, but that makes no difference of con- 
 sequence. I cannot answer for the precise accuracy of dates, but 
 1 believe they are exact. 
 
THEOBALD WOLFE TONE. 83 
 
 " 1 have framed the foregoing narrative, relying implicitly on 
 the honour of the gentlemen to whom I willingly confide it, thnt 
 no use whatsoever shall be made of it against any one of the parties 
 concerned, in any judicial transaction; I give it for political 
 purposes solely. 
 
 " With regard to myself, the part I have taken appears on the 
 face of the narrative. Whatever may be the consequence, I shall 
 make no attempt to withdraw myself, or avoid the fate, whatever 
 that be, which awaits me. I have but one thing to add, that there 
 is no circumstance which can befall me, not even excepting an 
 ignominious death, that I will not rather undergo, than appear as 
 an evidence in a court of justice, to give testimony against any 
 one of the parties concerned. 
 
 "THEOBALD WOLFE TONE." 
 
 DoBLTjy, May 3d, 1794. 
 
 When my father delivered this paper, the prevalent opinion, 
 ^'hich he then shared, was, that Jackson was a secret emissary 
 employed by the British government. It required the unfortunate 
 man's voluntary death to clear his character of such a foul impu- 
 tation. What renders this transaction the more odious, is, that 
 before his arrival in Leland, the life of Jackson was completely in 
 the pov/er of the British government. His evil genius was already 
 pinned upon him; his mission from France, his every thought and 
 his views, were known. He was allowed to proceed, not in order 
 to detect an existing conspiracy in Ireland, but to form one, and 
 thus increase the number of victims. A more atrocious instance 
 of perfidious and gratuitous cruelty is scarcely to be found in the 
 history of any country but Ireland. 
 
 Soon afterwards, the efforts of his friends, and the generous 
 interference of Arthur Wolfe, afterwards Lord Kilwarden, and then 
 Attorney-General, effected the compromise above mentioned. I am 
 aware matiy persons may think that my father did not show 
 sufficient gratitude to the Irish government, in whose power he 
 certainly was to a very dangerous degree. To this I can only repl}', 
 that he considered his duty to his country paramount to any per- 
 sonal feeling or consideration ; that //z^tr tyranny grew more and 
 more atrocious every day; and that, even in that extreme peril, he 
 constantly refused to tie his hands by any engagement for the 
 future. He would, however, have accepted the offer which tliey 
 made at first to send him to the East Indies, out of the reach 
 of European politics; perhaps they feared him even there, Avhen 
 they altered their minds. But confiding in the prostrate state of 
 Ireland, they finally allowed him to withdraw his head like the 
 
84 LIFE OF 
 
 crane in ^sop's fables, from the jaws of the wolf, and depart free 
 
 and disengaged for his voluntary exile. 
 
 The state of his affairs did not, however, allow him to proceed 
 on his journey for several months. During all that time, Jackson's 
 trial was still pending, and he was frequently threatened by the 
 more violent members of the government that he should be com- 
 pelled to appear, and be examined as a witness — a menace which 
 he constantly spurned at. A whole year from the arrest of Jackson 
 in April, 1794, to his trial and death in April, 1795, was spent in 
 this anxious suspense. 
 
 Towards the beginning of the year 1795, a glimpse of hope 
 and sunshine shone for an instant on the Irish horizon, by the 
 momentary triumph of the Whigs, and the appointment of Earl 
 Fitz- William to the vice-royalty. On this occasion, overtures were 
 again made to my father by that party, at first to set up a news- 
 paper, and afterwards to write in support of their administration. 
 The Catholic leaders, who felt the utility of which he might be to 
 them in such a situation, entered with eagerness into the idea, and 
 jDressed the administration, whose favour they enjoyed, on the 
 subject. Ho always felt repugnant to it, and his ideas on the 
 occasion are couched in the following short memorandum: — 
 
 "Feb. 7, 1795.— MM. Bryne, Hamill, and Keogh, waited on 
 Mr Grattan to recommend me to the new administration as a 
 person who had done and suffered much in the Catholic cause. 
 Previous to their going, I thought it right to apprize Mr Hamill, 
 the other two being already, and Mr Keogh particularly, thoroughly 
 acquainted with the circumstances of such objections as I thought 
 might arise, on Grattan's part, against me: first, that I was an 
 United Irishman, and probably the author of papers offensive to 
 the present government. In answer to which I assured him, as 
 the fact most truly was, that in that club I never had any influence; 
 so far from it, that I was looked on as a suspicious character; or, 
 at best, a Catholic partizan; endeavouring to make the club an 
 instrument of their emancipation, at the sacrifice of all its other 
 objects; that, since May, 1793, I had never attended its meetings, 
 or taken any part in its concerns, which conduct I had adopted in 
 consequence of an address, carried totally against my judgment, 
 and calling on the Catholics, immediately on the passing of their 
 bill, to come forward and demand a reform, a measure which I 
 looked upon as mischievous and insidious; that I had never written 
 but one paper ou the committal of Butler and Bond by the secret 
 committee; which paper would be found, I did think, a very 
 moderate one; and that I was, of course, not the author of the 
 papers offensive to the ^iresent administration. The next probabie 
 
THEOBALD "WOLFE TONE. 85 
 
 objection which I thought might arise, was about the national 
 guards. In answer to which, I stated that during the whole of that 
 business, as well as of the publication, ' citizen soldiers, to arms,' 
 I was in London, attending the Catholic delegates, and of course 
 could not be concerned: for which I appealed to Mr Keogli. The 
 third objection was more serious, which was the part I had in 
 Jackson and Rowan's business, which is fully detailed in other 
 parts of ray memorandums. That, with regard to that, all I could 
 say was, that my conduct undoubtedly had been very indiscreet in 
 that business, but such as it was I had stated it fully to the late 
 administration, who, after consideration maturely had, were not of 
 opinion that it was such as to call for punishment; that I had 
 positive assurance to that effect, and even a letter written by 
 Secretary Hamilton, by order of Lord Westmoreland, guaranteeing 
 me from all attack; that, therefore, I did hope, I should find 
 myself, if not bettered, at least not injured by the late change in 
 the government. The rest of the topics of defence on this head I 
 left to Keogh, with whom I had at great length mooted the whole 
 affair a few days back, 
 
 '• Hamill said, ' All this was very fair, but was he to under- 
 stand that they were at liberty to state to Mr Grattan my inclina- 
 tion to support the present government?' I said, ' By no means; 
 if that were to be so, it would become a matter of bargain and 
 sale, without any compliment paid to the great body Avhom he was 
 to represent; that I wished it should have no aspect to the future, 
 but should rest on the merits of past services rendered to the 
 Catholics. At the same time, I added, he might state a disposition 
 on my part towards the new administration, grounded on some of 
 their measures, which had already developed themselves, such as 
 Catholic emancipation, and the nominations to the primacy and 
 provostship. This, however, I guarded, by saying there were 
 others, to the support of which I would not be purchased by their 
 whole patronage: such as this infamous war; anything reflecting 
 on the north of Ireland, or on Parliamentary reform; that, sooner 
 than lend any countenance to such measures, I would, if necessary, 
 put .£50 in my pocket, and transport myself to the farthest corner 
 of the earth. Subject, hov/ever, to this exception, there were many 
 topics, particularly alt Catholic measures, in which I could promise 
 them my most cordial support; but that I feared (and I am sure 
 the fact is so) that the measures I would object to, would be, 
 perhaps, the only ones which they would thank me for defending. 
 
 '' Having had this eclaircissement, the deputation went off, and 
 I write these memorandums, waiting the event of their application, 
 I thank God, with the most perfect serenity. I have never 
 
86 LIFE OF THEOBALD WOLFE TONE. 
 
 indulged any idle or extravagant expectations, and therefore ifc is 
 not in the power of man to disappoint me. My belief is, the 
 application will fail, nnd, if so, I am no worse than I was. 
 
 " I should have added above, in its place, that I told Mr Hamill 
 I did not wish to form any connexion with the present adminis- 
 tration, because I thought I foresaw they would not long retain 
 nor deserve the confidence of the people; and 1 again repeated I 
 wished to stand solely on the recommendation of the Catholic body, 
 and not on any services rendered, or to be rendered, by myself." 
 
 My father finally refused this offer, declaring that he felt the 
 highest respect for Lord Fitz-William's character; that he 
 entertained no doubt his measures would always deserve support; 
 and that he would support them, as an individual, as long as he 
 approved of them; but that he could enter into no engagement. 
 In fact, his political principles had taken, from a very early period, 
 a loftier flight than those of the Whigs. He thought their views 
 narrow, their ends selfish, and their measures tending rather to the 
 aggrandizement of their ipavty than to the permanent and general 
 good of the country. The Whigs were highly irritated at this 
 refusal; and Mr Ponsonby, who expected to be appointed Attorney- 
 General, hinted that, perhaps Mr Tone would not find the next 
 Attorney-General so accommodating as the last." On Lord Fitz- 
 William's recall in March, 1795, my father received a new proof 
 of the affection and confidence of the Catholics, b}' their a]^pointing 
 him, in this precarious situation, to accompany the deputation 
 which they sent to solicit from the monarch the continuance of his 
 lordship in the administration, and to draw the petition for this 
 purpose, and the address to his lordship. On the month of April 
 following, soon after his return, the trial and death of Jackson took 
 place. It nobly redeemed his previous errors. 
 
 With the vice-royalty of Lord Camden began the triumvirate Of 
 those three noble earls, Camden, Carhampton, and Clare; who, by 
 a series of increasing persecutions, succeeded at length in driving 
 the people to madness, and open and general insurrection. But 
 towards the beginning of his administration, my father put in 
 execution his agreement with the government to leave Ireland. 
 The votes of thanks which, he received from the Catholics of 
 Dublin, on resigning his appointment as their secretary and agent; 
 and the honours which were paid to him, there and in Belfast; 
 his last secret instructions to follow up the negotiation begun with 
 Jackson; and the events which occurred between his departure 
 from Ireland and his arrival in France; are contained in the 
 following brief continuation of these memoirs, which he wroto 
 before embarking in the Bantry Bay expedition. 
 
87 
 
 CONTINUATIOxN" OF THE LIFE 
 
 OF 
 
 THEOBALD WOLFE TONE, 
 
 WRITTEN BY HIMSELF. 
 
 PvENNES, Septemher 28, 1706. 
 
 As my time is growing shorter, I pass over a very busy interval 
 of my life, all the important events of which are detailed in 
 different diaries among my papers; and I hasten to the period 
 when, in consequence of the conviction of William Jackscni for 
 high treason, I was obliged to quit my country, and go into exile 
 in America. A short time before my departure, my friend Eussell 
 being in town, he and I walked out together to llathfarnham, to 
 see Emmet, who has a charming villa there. Ho showed us a 
 little study, of an elliptical form, which he was building at the 
 bottom of the lawn, and w^hich he said he would consecrate to our 
 meetings, if ever v/e lived to see our country emancipated. I 
 beggfid of him, if he intended Eussell should be of the party, iu 
 addition to the books and maps it would naturally contain, to fit up 
 a small cellaret, which should contain a few dozens of his best old 
 claret. He showed me that he had not omitted that circumstance, 
 which he acknowledged to be essential; and we both rallied Russell, 
 with considerable success. I mention this trifling anecdote, because 
 I love the men, and because it seems now at least possible that 
 we may yet meet again in Emmet's stud5^ As we walked together 
 into town, I opened my plan to them both. I told them that I 
 considered my compromise with government to extend no further 
 than the banks of the Delaware, and that the moment I landed, 
 I was free to follow any plan which might suggest itself to me for 
 the emancipation of my country; that, undoubtedly, I was guilty 
 of a great offence against the existing government; that, in conse- 
 quence, I was going into exile; and that I considered that exile as 
 a full expiation for the offence; and consequently felt myself at 
 
88 LIFE OF 
 
 liberty, having made that sacrifice, to begin again on a fresh score. 
 They both agreed with me in those principles, and I then proceeded 
 to tell them that my intention was, immediately on my 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 recom- 
 mendation to the French government; and, if I succeeded so far, 
 to leave my family in America, and to set off instantly for Paris, 
 and apply, in the name of my country, for the assistance of France, 
 to enable us to assert our independence. It is unnecessary, I 
 believe, to say that this plan met with the warmest approbation 
 and support from both Russell and Emmet; we shook hands, and 
 having repeated our professions of unalterable regard and esteem 
 for each other, we parted; and this was the last interview which 
 I was so happy as to have with those two invaluable friends 
 tosrether. I remember it was in a little triangular field that this 
 conversation took place; and Emmet remarked to us that it was 
 in one exactly like it in Switzerland where William Tell and his 
 associates planned the downfall of the tyranny of Austria. The 
 next day Russell returned to Belfast. 
 
 As I was determined not to appear to leave Ireland clandestinely, 
 whatever might be the hazard, I took care, on the day of Jackson's 
 trial, to walk up and down in the most public streets in Dublin; 
 and to go, contrary to my usual custom, into several of the most 
 frequented coffee houses, and to my bookseller's, which was still 
 more frequented. In this last place I was seen by Lord Mountjoy, 
 who gave himself the pains to call on the Attorney-GeneraP the 
 next day, and inform him that I was to be found, for that he had 
 seen me in Archer's the day before. The Attorney-General gavo 
 him, however, no thanks for his pains, and so the affair ended; my 
 obligation, however, to his lordship, is not the less for his good 
 intentions. Having made this sacrifice to appearances, I se<" with 
 all diligence to prepare for my departure; I sold off all my little 
 property of every kind, reserving only my books, of which I had a 
 very good selection of about six hundred volumes, and I deter- 
 mined to take leave of nobody. I also resolved not to call on any 
 of my friends, not even Knox or Emmet; for as I knew the part 
 I had taken in Jackson's affair had raised a violent outcry against 
 me, with a very numerable and powerful party, I resolved not to 
 implicate any of those I regarded, in the diftlculties of my situation. 
 Satisfied as I was of the rectitude of my own conduct, and of the 
 purity of my motives, I believe I should have had fortitude to bear 
 the desertion of my best friends; but, to their honour be it spoken, 
 I was not put to so severe a trial. I did not lose the countenance 
 
 • Wolfe, aftcrwaidb Lord Kil warden. 
 
THEOBALD WOLFE TONE. 89 
 
 and support of any one man whom I esteemed ; and I believe that 
 I secured the continuance of their regard by the firmness I had 
 shown all along through this most arduous and painful trial ; and 
 especially by my repeated declarations, that I was ready to sacrifice 
 my life, if necessary, but that I would never degrade myself bv 
 giving testimony against a man who had spoken to me in the con- 
 fidence that I would not betray him. I have said that after 
 Jackson's death I visited nobody ; but all my friends made it, I 
 believe, a point to call on me; so that for the short time I 
 remained in Dublin af^-er, we were never an hour alone. My friends 
 M'Cormick and Keogh, who had both interested themselves 
 extremfcly all along on my behalf, and had been principally 
 instrumental in passing the vote for granting me the sum of .£300 
 in addition to the arrears due to me by the Catholics, were of 
 course amongst the foremost. It was hardly necessary, to men of 
 their foresight, and who knew me perfectly, to mention my plans; 
 however, for greater certainty, I consulted them both; and I 
 received, as I expected, their most cordial approbation ; and they 
 both laid the most pos.cive injunctions upon me to leave nothing 
 unattempted on my part to force my way to France, and lay our 
 situation before the government there; observing, at the same time, 
 that if I succeeded, there was nothing in the power of my country 
 to bestow to which I might not fairly pretend. It has often 
 astonished me, and them also, that the government, knowing there 
 was a French minister at Philadelphia, ever suffered me to go 
 ♦hither, at least without exacting some positive assurance on my 
 part that I should hold no communication with him, direct or in- 
 direct; so it was, however, that, ^iither despising my efforts, or 
 lookino- oM themselves as too firmly established to dread anv thins: 
 from France, they suffered me to depart, without demanding any 
 satisfaction whatsoever on that topic — a circumstance of which I 
 was most sincerely glad : for, had I been obliged to give my parole, 
 I should have been exceedingly distracted between opposite duties; 
 luckily, how'^ver, I was spared the difficulty; for they suffered me 
 to depart, without any stipulation whatsoever. Perhaps it would 
 have been better for them if they had adhered to their first proposal 
 of sending me out to India; but as to that, the event vv'ill determine. 
 Having paid aJ my debts, and settled with everybody, I set off 
 from Dublin for Belfast on the 20th May, 1795, with my wife, 
 sister, and three children, leaving, as may w^ell be supposed, my 
 father and mother in very sincere affiiction. My whole property 
 consisted in our clothes, my books, and about £700 in money and 
 bills on Philadelphia. We kept our spirits admirably. The great 
 attention manifested to us, the conviction that we were suffering 
 
90 LIFE OP 
 
 ii) 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 wliat was certainly a trial of the severest kind. 
 But if our friends in Dublin were kind and affectionate, those in 
 Belfast, if possible, were still more so. During near a month that 
 we remained there, we were ^very day engaged by one or other; 
 even those v;ho scarcely knew me wen eager to entertain us; 
 parties and excursions were planned for our amusements; and, 
 certainly the whole of our deportment and reception at Belfast 
 very little resembled those of a man who escaped with his life only 
 by miracle, and who was driven into exile to avoid a more dis- 
 graceful fate. I remember, particularly, two days that we passed 
 on the Cave Hill On the first, Russell, Neilson, Simms, M'Crj;ck =n, 
 and one or two more of us, on the summit of M'Art's fort, too': a 
 solemn obligation, which I think I may say I have, on my p irt, 
 endeavoured to fulfil — never to desist in our efforts until we had 
 subverted the authority of England over our country, and asserted 
 her independence. Another day we had the tent of the first 
 regiment pitched in the Deer Park, and a company of thirty of us, 
 including the family of the Simms' s, Neilson's, M'Cracken's, and 
 my own, dined and spent the day together deliciously. Eat the 
 most agreeable day we passed during our stay, and one of the most 
 agreeable of our lives, was in an excursion we made wiih the Simms's, 
 Neilson, and Russell, to Ram's Island, a beautiful and romantic spot 
 in Lough Neagh. Nothing can be imagined more delightful; 
 and we agreed, in whatever quarter we might find ourselves, 
 respectively, to commemorate the anniversary of that day, the 
 11th of June. At length the hour of our dej^arture arrived. On 
 the 15th June we embarked on board the Cincinnatus, of Wil- 
 mington, Captain James Robinson, and I flatter myself we carried 
 with us the regret of all who knew us. Even some of my former 
 friends, who had long since deserted me, returned on this reverse 
 of my fortune, struck, I believe, with the steadiness with which 
 we all looked it into the face. Our friends in Belfast loaded us 
 with presents on our departure, and filled our little cabin with sea 
 stores, fresh provisions, sweetmeats, and everything they could 
 devise for the comfort of my wife and children. Never, whilst I 
 live, will I forget the affectionate kindness of their behaviour. 
 Before my departure, I explained to Simms, Neilson, and C. G. 
 Teeling, my intentions with regard to my conduct in America; and 
 I had the satisfaction to find it met, in all respects, with their 
 perfect approbation; and now I looked upon myself as competent 
 to speak fully and with confidence for the Catholics, for the 
 Disseuters^ and for the defenders of Ireland, 
 
THr.OBALD WOLFE TONE. 91 
 
 We were now at sea, and at leisure to examine our situation. 
 1 bad liired a state room, wliicli was about eight feet by six, in which 
 we had fitted up three berths; my wife and our youngest little boy 
 occupied one, my sister and my little girl the second, and our 
 eldest boy and myself the third. It was at first grievously 
 inconvenient, but necessity and custom by degrees reconciled us to 
 our situation. Our greatest suffering was want of good waiter, 
 under which we laboured the whole passage, and which we found 
 it impossible to replace by wine, porter, or spirits, of which we had 
 abundance. The captain was tolerably civil, the vessel was stout, 
 and we had good weather almost the whoie of our voyage. But 
 we were 300 passengers on board a ship of 230 tons, and of course 
 crowded to a degree not to be conceived by those who have not 
 been on board a passenger ship. The slaves who are carried from 
 the coast of Africa have much more room allowed them than the 
 miserable emigrants who pass from Ireland to America, for the 
 avarice of the captains in that trade is such, that they thir.k they 
 never can load their vessels sufficiently, and they trouble their 
 heads in general no more about the accommodation and stowage 
 of their passengers than of any other lumber aboard. I laboured, 
 and with some success, to introduce something like a police, and 
 a certain degree, though a very imperfect one, of cleanliness among 
 them. Certainly the air of the sea must be wonderfully whole- 
 some; for if the same number of wretches of us had been shut up 
 on the same space ashore, with so much inconvenience of every 
 kind about us, two thirds of us would have died in the time of 
 our voyage. As it was, in spite of everything, we were tolerably 
 healthy; we lost but one passenger, a woman; we had some sick 
 aboard, and the friendship of James Hacdonnell, of Belfast, having 
 supplied me with a small medicine chest and written directions, I 
 took on myself the office of physician. 1 prescribed and admin- 
 istered accordingly, and I had the satisfaction to land all my 
 patients safe and sound. As we distributed liberally the surplus 
 of our sea stores, of which we had great abundance, and especially 
 as we gave, from time to time, wine and porter to the sick and 
 aged, we soon became very popular aboard; and I am sure there 
 was no sacrifice to our ease or convenience in the power of our 
 poor fellow-passengers to make, that we might not have commanded. 
 Thirty days of our voyage had now passed over without any event, 
 save the ordinary ones of seeing now a shoal of porpoises, now a 
 shark, now a set of dolphins, the peacocks of the sea playing 
 about, and once or twice a whale. We had, indeed, been brought 
 to, when about a week at sea, by the William Pitt, ludiaman, 
 which was returning to Europe with about twenty other ships, 
 
93 LIFE OF 
 
 under convoy of four or five men-of-war; but on examining our 
 2)apers they suffered us to proceed. At length, about the 20th of 
 July, son)e time after we had cleared the banks of Newfoundland, 
 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 f-llow- 
 passengers, who were most of them flying to America to avoid the 
 tyranny of a bad government at home, and who thus most unex- 
 pectedly 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, ?.s 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 adventures 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. 
 At length, after detaining us two days, during which they rummaged 
 us at least twenty times, they suffered us to proceed. 
 
 On the 30th July, we made Cape Henlopen: the 31st we ran 
 up the Delaware, and the 1st of August we landed safe at Wil- 
 mington, not one of us providentially having been for an hour 
 indisposed on the passage, nor even sea-sick. Those only who 
 have had their wives, their children, and all in short that is dear 
 to them, floating for seven or eight weeks at the mercy of the winds 
 and waves, can conceive the transport I felt at seeing my wife and 
 our darling babies ashore once again in health and in safety. We vSet 
 up at the principal tavern, kept by an Irishman, one Captain O'Byrne 
 OTlynn (I think), for all the tavern? in America are kept by 
 majors and captains, either of militia or continentals, and in a 
 few days we had entirely recruited our strength and spirits, and 
 totally forgotten the fatigues of the voyage. 
 
 During our stay in Wilmington we formed an acquaintance 
 which was of some service and a great deal of pleasure to us, with 
 a General Humpton, an old Continental ofhcer. He was an 
 Englishman, born in Yorkshire, and had been a major in the 25th 
 regiment, but on the breaking out of the American war, he resigned 
 his commission, and offered his services to Congress, who immedi- 
 ately gave him a regiment, from which he rose by degrees to his 
 present rank. He was a beautiful, hale, stout old man, of near 
 seventy, perfectly the soldier and the gentleman, and he took a great 
 liking to us, as we did to him on our part. On our removal to 
 
THEOBALD WOLi^E TONE. 93 
 
 Philadelphia, he found us a lodging with one of his acquaintance; 
 and rendered all the little services and attentions that our situation 
 as strangers required, which indeed he continued without remission, 
 during the whole of my stay in America, and I doubt not equally 
 since my departure. I have a sincere and grateful sense of the 
 kindness of this worthy veteran. 
 
 Immediately on my arrival in Philadelphia^ which was about 
 the 7th or 8th of August, I found out my old friend and brother 
 exile, Dr Reynolds, who seemed, to my very great satisfaction, 
 very comfortably settled. From him I learned that Hamilton 
 Piowan had arrived about six weeks before me from France, and 
 and that same evening we all three met. It was a singular 
 rencontre, and our several escapes from an ignominious death seemed 
 little short of a miracle. We communicated respectively our 
 several adventures since our last interview, which took place in the 
 goal of Newgate in Dublin, fourteen months before. In Reynold's 
 adventures there was nothing very extraordinary. Rowan had 
 been seized and thrown into prison immediately on his landing 
 near Brest, from whence he was rescued by the interference of a 
 young man named Sullivan, an Irishman, in the service of the 
 Republic, and sent on to Paris to the Committee of Public Safety, 
 by Prieur de la Marne, the deputy on mission. On his arrival 
 he was seized with a most dangerous fever, from which he narrowly 
 escaped vvith his life ; when he recovered, as well as during his 
 illness, he was maintained by the French government; he gave in 
 some memorials on the state of Ireland, and began, from the 
 reception he met with, to conceive some hopes of success; but 
 immediately after came on the famous 9th Thermidor, the down- 
 fall of Robespierre, and the dissolution of the Committee of Public 
 Safety. The total change which this produced in the politics of 
 France, and the attention of every man being occupied by his own 
 immediate personal safety, were the cause that Rowan and his 
 plans were forgotten in the confusion. After remaining, therefore, 
 several months, and seeing no likelihood of bringing matters to any 
 favourable issue, he yielded to the solicitude of his family and 
 friends, and embarked at Havre for New York, where he arrived 
 about the middle of June. 179o, after a tedious passage of eleven 
 weeks. 
 
 It is unnecessary to detail again my adventures, which I related 
 to them at full length, as well as every thing relating to the state 
 of politics in Ireland, about which, it may well be supposed, their 
 curiosity and anxiety were extreme. I then proceeded to tell 
 them my designs, and that I intended waiting the next day on the 
 French ininister, with such credentials as I had brought with me, 
 
94 LIFE OF 
 
 which were the two votes of thanks of the Catholics, and my 
 certificate of admission into the Belfast volunteers, engrossed on 
 vellum, and signed by the chairman and secretaries; audi added 
 that I would refer to them both for my credibility, in case the 
 minister had any doubts. Row^an offered to come with me, 
 and introduce me to the minister, citizen Adet, whom he had 
 known in Paris; but I observed to him, that as there were English 
 agents without number in Philadelphia, he was most probably 
 watched, and, consequently, his being seen to go with me to Adet 
 might materially prejudice his interests in Ireland. I therefore 
 declined his offer, but I requested of him a letter of introduction, 
 which he gave me accordingly, and the next day I waited on the 
 minister, who received me very politelj''. He spoke English very 
 imperfectly, and I French a great deal worse; however, we made 
 a shift to understand one another; he read my certificates and 
 Rowan's letter, and he begged me to throw on paper, in the form 
 of a memorial, all I had to communicate on the subject of Ireland. 
 This I accordingly did in the course of two or three days, though 
 with great difficulty, on account of the burning heat of the climate, 
 so different from what I had been used to, the thermometer varvin£f 
 between ninety and ninety-seven. At length, however, I finished 
 my memorial, such as it was, and brought it to Adet, and I offered 
 him, at the same time, if he thought it would forward the business, 
 to embark in the first vessel which sailed for France; but the 
 minister, for some reason, seemed not much to desire this, and he 
 eluded my offer by reminding me of the great risk I ran, as the 
 British stopped and carried into their ports indiscriminately all 
 American vessels bound for France; he assured me, however, I 
 might rely on my memorial being transmitted to the French 
 government, and backed with his strongest recommendations; and 
 he also promised to write particularly to procure the enlargement 
 of my brother Matthew, who was then in prison at Guise; all which 
 I have since found he faithfully performed. 
 
 I had now discharged my conscience as to my duty to my country; 
 and it was with the sincerest and deepest contristation of mind 
 that I saw this, my last effort, likely to be of so little effect. It 
 Vt'as barely possible, but I did not much expect that the French 
 government might take notice of my memorial, and if they did not, 
 there was an end of all my hopes. I now began to endeavour to 
 bend my mind to my situation, but to no purpose. I moved my 
 family, first to Westchester, and then to Dowingstown, both in the 
 state of Pennsylvania, about thirty miles from Philadelphia, and I 
 began to look about for a small plantation, such as might suit the 
 shattered state of my finances, on which the enorjjuous expense of 
 
THEOBALD WOLFE TONE. 9.7 
 
 living in Philadelphia, three times as dear as at Paris, or even 
 London, was beginning to make a sensible inroad. While they 
 remained there, in the neighbourhood of our friend General 
 Plnmpton, whose kindness and attention continued unabated, I 
 made divers excursions, on foot and in the stage-waggons, in quest 
 of a farm. Tha situation of Princeton, in New Jersey, struck me, 
 for a variety of reasons, and I determined, if possible, to settle in 
 that neighbourhood. I accordingly agreed with a Dutch farmer 
 for a plantation of one hundred acres, with a small wooden house, 
 which would have suited me well enough, for which I was to pay 
 .£750 of that currency; but the fellow was too covetous, and after 
 all was, I thought, finished, he retracted, and wanted to screw 
 more out of me, on which I broke off the treaty in a rage, and he 
 began to repent, but I was obstinate. At length I agreed with a 
 Captain Leonard for a plantation of ISO acres, beautifully situated 
 within two miles of Princeton, and half of it under timber. I was 
 to pay £1,180 currency, and I believe it was worth the money. 
 I moved, in consequence, my family to Princeton, where I hired a 
 small house for the winter, which I furnished frugally and decently. 
 I fitted up my study, and began to think my lot was cast to be an 
 American farmer. 
 
 In this frame of mind I continued for some time, waiting for 
 the lawyer v.dio was employed to draw the deeds, and expecting 
 next spring to remove to my purchase, and to begin farming at 
 last, when one day I was roused from my lethargy by the receipt 
 of letters from Keogh, Russell, and the two Simms's, wherein, after 
 professions of the warmest and sincerest regard, they proceeded to 
 acquaint me that the state of the public mind in Ireland was 
 advancing to republicanism faster than even I could believe; and 
 they pressed me, in the strongest manner, to fulfd the engagement 
 I had made with them at my departure, and to move heaven 
 and earth to force my way to the French government, in 
 order to supplicate their assistance. William Simms, at the 
 end of a most friendly and affectionate letter, desired me to 
 draw upon him for .£200 sterling, and that my bill should be 
 punctually paid; an offer, at the liberality of which, well as I knew 
 the man, I confess I was surprised. I immediately handed the 
 letters to my wife and sister, and desired their opinion, which I 
 foresaw would be that I 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 
 
96 LIFE OF 
 
 % 
 
 answer for our family during my absence; and that the same Pro- 
 vidence 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 that I required 
 no great supplication to induce me to make one more attempt in a 
 cause to which I had been so long devoted. I set off, accordingly, 
 the next morning (it being this time about the end of November) for 
 Philadelphia, and went, immediately on my arrival, to Adet, to whom 
 I showed the letters I had just received; and I referred him to Rowan, 
 who was then in town, for the character of the writers. I had the 
 satisfaction, contrary to my expectiitions, to find Adet as willing to 
 forward and assist my design now, as he seemed, to me at least, 
 lukewarm, when I saw him before, in August. He told me 
 immediately that he would give me letters to the French govern- 
 ment, recommending me in the strongest manner, and also money 
 to bear my expenses, if necessary. I thanked him most sincerely 
 for the letters, but I declined accepting any pecuniary assistance. 
 Having thus far surmounted my difficulties, I wrote for my brothel 
 Arthur, who was at Princeton, to come to me immediately, and I 
 fitted him out with all expedition for sea. Having entrusted him 
 with my determination of sailing for France in the first vessel, I 
 ordered him to communicate this, immediately on his arrival in 
 Ireland, to Neilson, Simms, and Piussell, in Belfast; and to Keogh 
 and M'Cormick only, in Dublin. To every one else, including 
 especially my father and mother, I desired him to say that I had 
 purchased, and was settled upon my farm, near Princeton. Having 
 fully instructed him, I put him on board the Susanna, Captain 
 Baird, bound for Belfast, and on the 10th of December, 1795, he 
 sailed from Philadelphia, and I presume he arrived safe; but, as 
 yet, I have had no opportunity of hearing of him. Having dis- 
 patched him, I settled all my affairs as speedily as possible. I 
 drew on Simms for £200, agreeable to his letter, <£150 sterling of 
 which I devoted to my voyage; my friend Reynolds procured me 
 louis d'ors at the bank for £100 sterling worth of silver. I 
 converted the remainder of my little property into bank stock, and 
 having signed a general power of attorney to my wife, I waited 
 finally on Adet, who gave me a letter in cypher, directed to the 
 Comite de Salut public, the only credential which I intended to 
 bring with me to France. I spent oiie day in Philadelphia with 
 Reynolds, Rowan, and my old friend and fellow-sufferer, James 
 Napper Tandy, who, after a long concealment and many adventures, 
 was recently arrived from Hamburg; and, at length, on the 13th 
 December, at night, I arrived at Princeton, whither Rowan 
 accompanied me, bringing with me a few presents for my wife, 
 
THEOBALD WOLFE TONE. 97 
 
 sister, and our dear little babies. That night 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 both for the last time, and we parted with a 
 steadiness which astonished me. On the 16th December I arrived 
 in New York, and took my passage on board the ship Jersey, 
 Captain George Barons. I remained in New York for ten dayg, 
 during which time I wrote continually to my family; and a day or 
 two before my departure I received a letter from my wife inform- 
 ing me that she was with child, a circumstance which she had 
 concealed so far, I am sure, lest it might have had some influence 
 on my determination. On the 1st January, 1796, I sailed from 
 Sandy Hook, with nine fellow-passengers, all French, bound for 
 Havre de Grace. Our voyage lasted exactly one month, during 
 the most part of which we had heavy blowing weather; five times 
 we had such gales of wind as obliged us to lie under a close reefed 
 mizen stay-sail ; however, our ship was stout. We had plenty of 
 provisions, wine, brandy, and especially, what I thought more of, 
 remembering my last voyage, excellent water, so that I had no 
 reas(m to complain of my passage. We did not meet a single 
 vessel of force, either French or English; we passed three or four 
 Americans, bound mostly, like ourselves, to France. On the 27th 
 we were in soundings, at eighty-five fathoms; on the 2Sth we 
 made the Lizard; and at length, on the 1st of February, we landed 
 in safety at Havre de Grace, having met with not the smallest 
 accident during our voyage. My adventures, from this date, are 
 fully detailed in the diary, which I have kept regularly since my 
 arrival in France. 
 
 D 
 
98 
 
 EXTRACTS FEOM THE JOUKNALS 
 
 OF 
 
 THEOBALD WOLFE TONE, 
 
 DURING HIS MISSION IN FRANCE, 
 
 COMPRISING niS NEGOTIATIONS WITH THE FRENCH GOVERNMENT IN PARIS. 17G 
 
 Fehruanj 2, 1796. — I landed at Havre de Grace yesterday, after 
 a rough winter passage from New York of thirty-one days. 
 
 February 6. — It is very singular, but I have had several occasions 
 to observe, that there is more difficulty in passing silver than paper. 
 I have seen money refused where assignats have been taken 
 currently. This is a phenomenon I cannot understand, especially 
 ■when the depreciation is considered. The rebublican silver is 
 received with great suspicion. People have got it into their heads 
 that it is adulterated; but, even so, surely it is worth intrinsically 
 more than a bit of paper. So it is, however, that assignats are 
 more current. The comedie again. The Marseillaise hymn sung 
 every nfght, and the verse, " Tremblez Tyrans," always received 
 with applause. 
 
 February 7, Sunday. — I was curious to observe how this day 
 would be kept in France. I believe nobody v/orked; the shops were 
 half open, half shut, as I have seen them on holidays in other 
 countries; everybody walking the streets. A vessel from Boston 
 was wrecked last night within twenty yards of the basin, and an 
 unfortunate French woman lost, with two children. She had fled 
 to America early in the Revolution, and was now returning to her 
 husband on the restoration of tranquillity. God Almighty help 
 him! she might have been saved alone, but preferred to perish 
 with her infants : it is too to think of. 
 
 February 12. — Paris. the Hotel des Strangers, Rue 
 
 * These extracts are chiefly confined to details of the intercourse of the author with the 
 French authorities, in reference to the proposed invasion of Ireland, being selected from a 
 voluminous mass of flippant and uninteresting matter, only calculated to meet the eye of 
 Mrs Tone, to whom it Avas addressed.— iiV. of Autobiography, 
 
LIFE OF THEOBALD WOLFE TONE. 99 
 
 Vivlcnne, a magnificent house, but, I foresee, as dear as the devil; 
 my apartment in the third storey very handsomely furnished, etc., 
 for fifty francs per month, and so on in proportion for a shorter 
 time; much cheaper than the Adelphi and other hotels in London; 
 but I will not st:iy here for all that — I must get into private lodgings. 
 
 February 13. — Captain Sisson, with whom we travelled up, called 
 to breakfast. Settled our account of expenses. Council of war 
 with D'Aucourt. — Agree to keep close for a day or two, until we 
 get French clothes made, and then pay my first visit to Monroe 
 (the American ambassador), and deliver my letters. In the mean- 
 time to make inquiries. 
 
 February 15. — Went to Monroe's the ambassador, and delivered 
 in my passport and letters. Received .very politely by Monroe, 
 who inquired a great deal into the state of the public mind in 
 America, which I answered as well as I could, and in a manner to 
 satisfy him pretty well as to my own sentiments. I inquired of 
 him where I was to deliver my despatches. He informed "me, at 
 the minister for foreign affiiirs, and gave me his address, I then 
 
 rose and told him that when he had read B 's letter (which 
 
 was in cypher), he would, I hope, find me excused in taking the 
 liberty to call again. He answered he would be happy at all 
 times to see me; and after he had inquired about Hamilton Rowan, 
 how he liked America, etc., I took my leave, and returned' to his 
 oflice for my passport. The secretary smoked me for an Irishman 
 directly. A la honne heure. Went at three o'clock to the minister 
 for foreign afiiiirs, Rue du Bacq, 471. Delivered my passport, and 
 inquired for some one who spoke English. Introduced immediately 
 to the chef de bureau, Lamare, a man of an exceedingly plain ap- 
 pearance. I showed my letter, and told him I washed for an 
 opportunity to deliver it into the minister's hands. He asked me, 
 " would it not do if he took charge of it." I answered, he un- 
 doubtedly knew the official form best; but if it was not irregular, 
 I should consider myself much obliged by being allowed to deliver 
 it in person. He then brought me into a magnificent anti-chamber, 
 where a general officer and another person were writing, and, after 
 a few minutes' delay, I was introduced to the minister, Charles de 
 la Croix, and delivered my letter, which he opened; and seeing it 
 in cypher, he told me, in French, he was much obliged to me for 
 the trouble I had taken, and that the secretary would give me a 
 receipt, acknowledging the delivery. I then made my bow and 
 retired with the secretary, the minister seeing us to the door. 
 
 February 17. — Went at one o'clock to the minister's bureau for 
 my passport, who received me very politely. He told me, in 
 French, that he had had the letter I brought dccix^hcred, and laid 
 
100 IIFE OP 
 
 instantly before the directoire executif, wlio considered the contents 
 as of the greatest importance; that their intentions were, that I 
 should go immediately to a gentleman, whom he would give me a 
 letter to; and, as he spoke both languages perfectly and was con- 
 fidential, that I should explain myself to him without reserve; that 
 his name w^as Madgett. I ansv/ered, that I knew him by reputa- 
 tion, and had a letter of introduction to him, but did not consider 
 myself at liberty to make myself known to any person without his 
 approbation. He answered that I might communicate with Madgett, 
 without the least reserve; sat down and wrote a note to him, which 
 he gave me; I then took my leave, the minister seeing me to the 
 door. Set off for Madgett's and delivered ray letter. Madgett 
 delighted to see me; tells me he has the greatest expectation our 
 business will be taken up in the most serious manner; that the 
 attention of the French government is now turned to Ireland, and 
 that the stability and form it had assumed gave him the strongest 
 hopes of success; that he had written to Hamilton Rowan, about 
 a month since, to request I might come over instantly, in order to 
 confer with the French government, and determine on the necessary 
 arrangements; and that he had done this by order of the French 
 executive. He then asked me had I brought any papers or 
 credentials ; I answered that I only brought the letter of Adet to 
 the executive, and one to the American ambassador; that I had 
 destroyed a few others on the passage, including one from Mr 
 Ivowan to himself, as we were chased by a Bermudian; that as to 
 credentials, the only ones I had, or that the nature of the case 
 would permit, I had shown to Adet on my first arrival in Phila- 
 delphia, in August last. That these were the vote of thanks of 
 the general committee of the Catholics of Ireland, for my services 
 as their agent, signed by Mr Edward Byrne and the two secretaries, 
 Itichard M'Cormick and John Sweetman, and dated in April, 
 1793. A second vote of thanks from the Catholics of Dublin, 
 signed by the chairman and secretary; and the resolution 
 of the Belfast regiment of volunteers, electing me an honorary 
 member, in testimony of their confidence, and signed by the 
 officers of the regiment. These I had offered to Adet to bring 
 with me to France, but he said it was sufficient that I satisfied 
 him, and, as they were large papers, it would be running an 
 unnecessary risk of discovery, in case we were stopped by British 
 cruizcrs. That he would satisfy the French executive, and that 
 the fewer papers of any kind I carried the better; and, consequently, 
 th:it I had brought only those I mentioned. Madgett then said 
 that was enough, especially as he had the newspapers containing 
 the resolutions I mentioned; and that the French executive were 
 
THEOBALD WOLFE TONE. 101 
 
 already full}' apprised who I was. He then added, that we should 
 have ten sail of the line, any quantity of arms that were wanted, 
 and such money as was indispensable; but that this last was to be 
 used discreetly, as the demands for it on all quarters were so 
 numerous and urs-ent. 
 
 February 18. — Breakfast at Madgett's. Long account, on my 
 part, of the state of Ireland when I left it, which will be found 
 substantially in such memoirs as I may prepare. Madgett assures 
 me again that the government here have their attention turned 
 most seriously to Irish affairs; that they feel that unless they can 
 separate Ireland from England, the latter is invulnerable; that they 
 are willing to conclude a treaty offensive and defensive with 
 Ireland, and a treaty of commerce on a footing of reciprocal 
 advantage; that they will supply ten sail of the line, arm;-^, and 
 money, as he told me yesterday; and that they were already making 
 arrangements in Spain and Holland for that purpose. He asked 
 me did I think anything would be done in Ireland by her spon- 
 taneous efforts. I told him, most certainly not; that if a landing 
 w^ere once effected, every thing would follow instantly, but that 
 that was indispensable; and I begged him to state this as my 
 opinion, to such persons in power as he might communicate 
 with; that if 20,000 French were in Ireland, we should 
 in a month have an army of one, two, or, if necessary, 300,000 
 men, but that the point cTappui was indispensable. I then 
 mentioned the necessity of having a man of reputation at 
 the head of the French fortes, and mentioned Pichegru of 
 Jourdan, both of whom are well known by character in Ireland. 
 He told me there was a kind of coolness between the executive 
 and Pichegru (this I suspected before), but that, if the measures 
 were adopted, he might still be the general; adding that he was a 
 man of more talents than Jourdan. I answered, "either would 
 do." He then desired me to prepare a memorial in form for the 
 French executive as soon as possible, which he would translate and 
 have delivered in without delay. 
 
 February 18, 19, 20. — At work in the morning at my memorial. 
 Ciill on Madgett once a day to confer wutli him. He says there 
 will be sent a person to Ireland immediately, with whom I shall 
 h.-ro a conference; and that it would be desirable he should brins: 
 back an appointment of minister plenipotentiary for me, in order 
 to conclude an alliance offensive and defensive with the republic; 
 in which case I should be acknowledged as such by the French 
 government. Certainly nothing could be more flattering to me; 
 however, I answered that such an appointment could not be had, 
 without communicating with so many persons as might endanger 
 
102 LIFE OF 
 
 the betraying of tlie secret to the Irish government; that i only 
 desired credit with the directoire executif, so far as they should 
 find my assertions supported by indisputable facts; that the 
 information I brought was the essential part; and the credential, 
 though highly gratifying to my private feelings, would be, in fact, 
 but matter of form. That when a government was formed in 
 Ireland, it would be time enough to talk of embassies; and then, 
 if my country thought me worthy, I should be the happiest and 
 proudest man living to accept the office of ambassador from 
 Ireland. So there was an end to my appointment. I must wait 
 till the war at least is commenced, if ever it commences, or perhaps 
 until it is over, if I am not knocked on the head in the meantime. 
 I should like very well to be the first Irish ambassador; and if I 
 succeed in my present business, I think I will have some claim to 
 the office. Madgett says if we succeed, it is part of the plan, but 
 I believe he means his own plan, to demand Jamaica for Ireland, 
 by way of indemnity. I wish we had Ireland without Jamaica. 
 
 February 22, — Finished my memorial, and delivered a fair copy, 
 signed, to Madgett, for the minister of foreign relations. Madgett 
 in the horrors. He tells me he has had a discourse yesterday for 
 two hours with the minister, and that the succours he expected 
 will fall very short of what he thought. That the marine of 
 France is in such a state that government will not hazard a large 
 fleet; and, consequently, that we must be content to steal a march. 
 That they will give 2000 of their best troops, and arms for 20,000; 
 that they cannot spare Pichegru nor Jourdan; that they will give 
 any quantity of artillery; and, I think, he added, what money 
 might be necessary. He also said they w^ould first send proper 
 persons among the Irish prisoners of war, to sound them, and 
 exchange them on the first opportunity. To all this, at which I 
 am not disappointed, I answered, that as to 2000 men, they might 
 as well send twenty. That wdth regard to myself, I would go if 
 they would send but a corporal's guard; but that my opinion was, 
 that 5000 was as little as could be landed with any prospect of 
 success, and that that number would leave the matter doubtful. 
 I bid him then remember that my plan was built on the supposi- 
 tion of a powerful support in the first instance; that I had 
 particularly specified so in my memorial; and begged him to 
 apprize the minister that my opinion was so. That nevertheless, 
 with 5000 men, the business might be attempted, and I did believe 
 would succeed; but that, in that case, we must fight hard for it; 
 that though I was satisfied how the militia and army would act in 
 case of a powerful invasion, I could not venture to say what might 
 be their conduct under the circumKStances he mentioned; that, if 
 
THEOBALD WOLFE TONE. 103 
 
 tl;cy stood by the government, wliicli it was possible they niight, 
 ■\ve should have hot work of it; that, if 5000 men were sent, they 
 should be the very flower of the French troops, and a considerable 
 proportion of them artillery-men, with the best general they could 
 spare. He interrupted me to ask who was known in Ireland after 
 Pichegru and Jourdan. I an.swered, Hoche, especially since his 
 affiiir at Ouiberon. He said he was sure we misrht have Hoche. 
 I also mentioned that if they sent but 5000 men, they should send 
 a greater quantity of arms; as in that case we could not command 
 at once all the arms of the nation, as we should if they were able 
 to send 20,000, or even 15,000. I added, that as to the prisoners 
 of war, ray advice was to send proper persons among them, but 
 not to part with a man of them until the landing was effected, 
 and then exchange them as fast as possible. He promised to 
 represent all this, and that he hoped we would get 5000 men at 
 least, and a greater quantity of arms. We then parted. good 
 God, good God! what would I give to-night that we were safely 
 landed, and encamped on the Cave Hill. If we can find our way 
 so far, I think we shall puzzle John Bull to work ns out. Surely 
 we can do as much as the Chouans or people of La Vendee. 
 
 February 2S. — k. busy day. Called on Madgett in order to 
 explain to him that all I had said relative to the support to be 
 ex]3ected from the people in Ireland, and the conduct of the ami}'-, 
 was on the supposition of a considerable force benig landed in the 
 first instance. This I had pressed upon him yesterday, but I 
 cannot make it too clear for m,y own credit. My theory, in three 
 words, is this: with 20,000 men there would be no possibility of 
 resistance for an hour, and we should begin by the capital; with 
 5000 I would have no doubt of success, but then we should expect 
 some fighting, and we should begin near Belfast; with 2000 I 
 think the business utterly desperate ; for, let them land where they 
 would, they would be utterly defeated before any one could join 
 them, or, in fact, before the bulk of the people could know that 
 they were come. This would be a mere Quiberon business in 
 Ireland, and would operate but as a snnre for the lives of my 
 brave and unfortunate countrymen; to whose destruction I do not 
 wish, God knows, to be accessory. 
 
 February 2Jf. — Went at twelve o'clock, in a fright, to the Lux- 
 embourg, conning speeches in execrable French all the way. What 
 shall I say to Carnot? Well, " whatsoever the Lord putteth into 
 my mouth, that surely shall I utter." Plucked up a spirit as I 
 drew near the palace, and mounted the stairs like a lion. Went 
 into the first bureau that I found open, and demanded at once to 
 see Carnot. The clerks stared a little, but I repeated my demand 
 
104 LIFE OP 
 
 with a courage truly heroic; on which they instantly submitted, 
 and sent a. person to conduct me. This happened to be his day 
 for giving audience, which each member of the executive directory 
 does in his turn. Introduced by my guide into the ante-chamber, 
 which was filled with people; the oflScers of state, all in their new 
 costume. Write a line in English, and deliver it to one of the 
 huissiers, stating that a stranger just arrived from America wished 
 to speak to citizen Carnot on an affair of consequence. He brought 
 me an answer in two minutes, that I should have an audience. 
 The folding doors were now thrown open, a bell being previously 
 rung, to give notice t© the people that all who had business might 
 present themselves, and citizen Carnot appeared, in the petit 
 costume of white satin with crimson robe, richly embroidered. It 
 is very elegant, and resembles almost exactly the draperies of 
 Vandyk. He went round the room receivin^; papers and answering 
 those who addressed him, I told my friend the huissier, in 
 marvellous French, that my business was too important to be 
 transacted there, and that I would return on another day, when it 
 would not be Carnot's turn to give audience, and when I should 
 hope to find him at leisure. He mentioned this to Carnot, who 
 ordered me instantly to be shown into an inner apartment, and 
 that he would see me as soon as the audience was over. That I 
 thought looked well, and began accordingly to con my speech 
 again. In the apartment were five or six personages, who being, 
 like myself, of great distinction, were admitted to a private 
 audience. I allowed them all precedence, as I wished to have my 
 will of Carnot; and while they were in their turns speaking with 
 him, I could not help reflecting how often I had vished for the 
 opportunity I then enjoyed; what schemes I had laid, what hazards 
 I had run ; when I looked round and saw myself actually in the 
 cabinet of the executive directory, vis-a-vis citizen Carnot, the 
 organizer of victory, I could hardly believe my own senses, and 
 felt as if it were all a dream. However, I was not in the least 
 degree disconcerted, and when I presented myself, after the rest 
 were dismissed, I had all my faculties, such as they were, as well 
 at my command as on any occasion in my life. V/hy do I mention 
 these trifling circumstances'? It is because they will not be trifling 
 in her eyes for whom they were written. I began the discourse 
 by saying, in horrible French, that I had been informed he s2)oke 
 English. A little, sir, but I perceive you speak French, and if 
 you please we will converse in that language. I answered still in 
 my jargon, that if he could have the patience to endure me, I would 
 endeavour, and only prayed him to stop me whenever I did not 
 make myself understood. I then told him that I was an Irishman; 
 
THEOBALD WOLFE TONE. 
 
 105 
 
 that I had been secretary and agent to the Catholics of that 
 country, who were about 3,000,000 of people; that I was also in 
 perfect possession of the sentiments of the Dissenters, who were at 
 least 900,000, and that I wished to communicate with him on the 
 actual state of Ireland. He stopped me here to express a doubt 
 as to the numbers being so great as I represented. I answered a 
 calculation had been made within these few years, grounded on the 
 number of houses; which was ascertained for purposes of revenue; 
 that, by that calculation, the people of Ireland amounted to 
 4,100,000, and it was acknowledged to be considerably under 
 the truth. He seemed a little surprised at this, and I proceeded 
 to state, that the sentiments of all those people were unanimous 
 in favour of France, and eager to throw off the yoke of England. 
 He asked me then "what they wanted." I said, "An armed force 
 in the commencement, for a point d'appui, until they could organize 
 themselves, and undoubtedly a supply of arms and some money. 
 I added that I had already delivered in a memorial on the subject 
 to the minister of foreign relations; and that I was preparing 
 another, v*-hich would explain to him, in detail, all that I knew on 
 the subject, better than I could in conversation. He then said, 
 " We shall see those memorials." The organizer of victory pro- 
 ceeded to ask me, "Were there not some strong places in Ireland?" 
 I answered I knew of none, but some works to defend the harbour 
 of Cork. He stopped me here, saying, " Ay, Cork ! but may it 
 not be necessary to land there 1 " By which I perceived he had 
 been organizing a little already in his own mind. I answered, 
 I thought not. That if a anding in force were attempted, it 
 would be better near the capital for obvious reasons; if with 
 a small arniv, it should be in the north, rather than the 
 south of Ireland, for reasons which he would find in my 
 memorials. He then asked me, "Might there not be some danger 
 or delay in a longer navigation?" I answered, it would not make 
 a difference of two days, which was nothing in comparison ot 
 the advantages, I then told him that I came to France by 
 direction and concurrence of the men, who (and here I was at a 
 loss for a French word, with which, seeing my embarrassment, he 
 supplied me), guided the two great parties I had mentioned. This 
 satisfied me clearly that he attended to and understood nie. I 
 added that I had presented myself in August last, in Philadelphia, 
 to citizen Adet, and delivered to him such credentials a:. I had 
 with me; that he did not at that juncture think it advisable for 
 me to come in person, but ofiered to transmit a memorial, which 
 I accordinirlv delivered to him. That about the end of November 
 lust I received letters from my friends in Ireland, repeating their 
 
instructions in the strongest manner, that I should, if possible, 
 force my way to France, and lay the situation of Ireland before 
 its government. That, in consequence, I had again waited on 
 citizen Adet, who seemed eager to assist me, and offered me a letter 
 to the directoire executif, which I accepted with gratitude. That 
 I sailed from America in the very first vessel, and was arrived 
 about a fortnight. That I had delivered my letter to the minister 
 for foreign affairs, who had ordered me to explain myself with(Mit 
 reserve to citizen Madgett, which I had accordingly done. Tiiafc 
 by his advice I had prepared and delivered one memorial on the 
 actual state of Ireland; and was then at work on another, which 
 would comprize the whole of the subject. That I had the highest 
 respect for the minister, and that as to Madgett, I had no reason 
 whatsoever to doubt him; but, nevertheless, must be permitted to 
 say that, in my mind, it was a business of too great importance to 
 be transacted with a mere comrnis. That I should not think I had 
 discharged my duty, either to France or Ireland, if I left any 
 measure unattempted which might draw the attention of the 
 directory to the situation of the latter country; and that, in con- 
 sequence, I had presumed to present myself to him, and to implore 
 his attention to the facts contained in my two memorials. That 
 I would also presume to request that, if any doubt or difiiculty 
 arose in his mind on any of those facts, he would have the goodness 
 to permit me to explain. I concluded by saying, that I looked upon 
 it as a fEivourable omen that I had been allowed to communicate 
 with him, as he was already perfectly well known by reputation 
 in Ireland, and was the very man of whom my friends had spolien. 
 He shook his head and smiled, as if he doubted me a little. I 
 assured him the fact was so; and as a proof, told him that in 
 Ireland we all knew, three years ago, that he could speak English; 
 at which he did not seem displeased. I then rose, and after the 
 usual apologies, took my leave; but I had not cleared the ante- 
 chamber, when I recollected a very material circumstance, which 
 was, that I had not told him, in fact, who, but merely what I was; 
 I was, therefore, returning on my steps, when I was stopped by 
 the sentry demanding my card; but from this dilemma I was 
 extricated by my lover the huissier, and again admitted. I then 
 told Carnot, that as to my situation, credit, and the station I had 
 filled in Ireland, I begged leave to refer him to James Monroe, the 
 American ambassador. He seemed struck with this, and tlien for 
 the first time asked my name. I told him in fact I had two 
 names, my real one and that under which I travelled and was 
 described in my passport. I then took a slip of paper, and wrote 
 the name, ''James Smith, citoyen Americain," and under it, 
 
THEOBALD WOLFE TONE. 107 
 
 Theobald Wolfe Tone, which I handed him, adding that my real 
 name was the undermost. He took the paper, and looking over 
 it, said, "Ha! Theobald Wolfe Tone," with the expression of one 
 who had just recollected a circumstance, from which little move- 
 ment, I augur good things. I then told him I would finish my 
 memorial as soon as possible, and hoped he would permit me, in 
 the course of a few days after, to present myself ngain to him; to 
 which he answered, " By all means;" and so I again took my leave. 
 Here is a full and true account of my first audience of the executive 
 directory of France, in the person of citizen Carnot, the organizer 
 of victory. I think I came off very clear. What am I to think of 
 all this? As yet I have met no difficulty nor check, nothing to 
 discourage me; but I wish with such extravagant passion for the 
 emancipation of my country, and T do so abhor and detest the 
 very name of England, that I doubt my own judgment, lest I see 
 things in too favourable a light. I hope I am doing my duty. It 
 is a bold measure; after ail if it should succeed, and my visions be 
 realized — Huzza ! Vive la Rejmhlique! I am a pretty fellow to 
 negotiate with the directory of France, pull down a monarchy and 
 establish a republic; to break a connexion of 600 years' standing, 
 and contract a fresh alliance with another country. 
 
 February 26. — This morning finished an awkward business, 
 that is to say, wrote a long letter to the minister, all about myself; 
 very proper in an ambassador to frame his own credentials. My 
 commission was large, for I made it myself. Read it over carefully; 
 every word true and not exaggerated. Resolved to go at once to 
 fhe minister and deliver my letter, like a true Irishman, with my 
 own hands. Went to his bureau, and saw Lamare, the secretary, 
 wliom I sent in to demand an audience. Lamare returned with 
 word that the minister was just engaged v/ith Neri Corsini, am- 
 bass.idor from the Grand Duke of Tuscany, and would see me the 
 m.oment he was at leisure. Neri Corsini being departed, I was 
 introduced. I began with telling the minister, that though I spoke 
 execrable French, I would, with his permission, put his patience 
 to a short trial. I then told him that, in obedience to his orders, 
 I had finished a memorial on the actual state of Ireland, which I 
 had delivered to Madgett; that I had finished the draft of another, 
 which I would deliver to-morrow, on the means necessary to 
 ncconiplish the great object of my mission, the separation of 
 Ireland from England, and hei establishment as an independent 
 republic in alliance with France. De la C'roix interrupted me 
 here by saying, that I might count upon it, there was no object 
 nearer the hejirt of the executive directory; that they had that 
 ])usines3, at that very moment, before them; and would leave do 
 
108 LIFE OP 
 
 means, consistent with their utmost capacity, untried, to accomplish 
 it. And he repeated again, with earnestness, " that I might count 
 upon it." The minister then asked me what we wanted in IreLand ? 
 I answered, that we wanted a force to begin with; arms, ammuni- 
 tion, and money. He asked me what quantities of each woukl I 
 think sufficient? I did not wish to go just then into the detail, as 
 I judged, from Madgett's discourse, that the minister's plan was 
 on a smaller scale than mine, and I did not desire to shock him 
 too much in the onset. I therefore took advantage of my bad 
 French, and mentioned that I doubted my being able sufficiently 
 to explain myself in conversation, but that he would find my 
 opinions at length in the two memorials I had prepared; and when 
 he had considered them, I hoped he would allow me to wait on 
 him, and explain any point which might not be sufficiently clear. 
 He then proceeded to give me his own ideas; which were, as I 
 suspected, upon a small scale. He said he understood Ireland 
 was very populous and the people warlike, so as soon to be made 
 soldiers, and that they were already in some degree armed. I 
 answered, not so much as to be calcuUited upon in estimating the 
 quantity of arms wanted, as most of the guns which they had w^ere 
 but fowling-pieces. He then said, he knew they had no artillery 
 nor cannoniers, and that, consequently, it would be necessary 
 to supply them with both ; that field pieces would be sufficient, 
 as we had no strong places; that we should have thirty pieces of 
 cannon, half eight-pounders, and half sixteen-pounders, properly 
 manned and officered, and 20,000 stand of arms. I interrupted 
 him to say, 20,000 at least, as the only limitation to the numbers 
 we could raise would be the quantity of arms we might have to 
 put into their hands. He then went on to say, that these should 
 be landed near Belfast, where he supposed they v/ould be most 
 likely to meet with early support. I answered, '• Certainly, as that 
 province was the most populous and warlike in the kingdom." 
 He then produced a map of Ireland, and we looked over it together. 
 I took this advantage to slide in some of my own ideas, by saying 
 that if we were able to begin in considerable force, we should 
 commence as near the capital as possible; the possession of which, 
 if once obtained, would, I thought, decide the whole business; but 
 if we began with a smaller force, we should commence as near 
 Belfast as we could, and then push forward, so as to secure the 
 mountains of Mourne and the Fews, by means of which and of 
 Lough Erne, we could cover the entire province of Ulster, and 
 maintain ourselves until we had collected our friends in sufficient 
 force to penetrate to Dublin. He liked my plan extremely, which 
 Certainly appears to be the only feasible one^ in case of a small 
 
THEOBALD WOLFE TONE. 109 
 
 force being landed. He then mentioned the Irishmen serving in 
 the British navy; and asked me what I thought of sending proper 
 persons amongst them to insinuate the duty they owed to their 
 country, and whether, in such case, they would act against us or 
 not? This is Madgett's scheme; and, if it is not followed by very 
 different measures, is nonsense. I answered, that undoubtedly the 
 measure was a good one, if accompanied properly; but ^o give it 
 full effect, it was absolutely necessary there should be a government 
 established in Ireland, for reasons which he would find detailed in 
 my memorials, and of which I gave him an imperfect abstract. I 
 think he seemed satisfied on that head. The result of this con- 
 versation, the principal circumstances of which I have substantially 
 related, is, that the executive directory at present are determined 
 to take us up, but on a small scale; that they will give us thirty 
 pieces of cannon, properly manned, and 20,000 stand of arms, with 
 some money, of course, to begin with; but I did not collect from 
 the minister that they had an idea of any definite number of troops, 
 at least he mentioned none, and I did not press him on that head, 
 as I wish they should first read and consider my memorials; perhaps 
 what is said in them may induce them to reconsider the subject; 
 and if so, I shall have done a most important servicp both to 
 France and Ireland. 
 
 February 29. — Finished my second memorial, and delivered it 
 to Madgett for translation. We have not a minute to spare, for 
 in a little time the channel fleet will probably be at sea, and the 
 camps formed in Ireland; and of course the government there vv'ill 
 have the advantage of a force ready concentred and prepared to act 
 instantly; and perhaps they may happen to take the wrong side, 
 which would be very bad. 
 
 March 1. — This day I got an English newspaper from Madgett, 
 dated the 2d of last month, in which there is a paragraph alluduig 
 to the death of the late unfortunate Major Sweetman in a duel. 
 I do not think I ever received such a shock ir my life ! Good 
 God ! if it should be my friend ! The only chance I have is, that 
 there may be another person of that name, but I fear the worst. 
 I had the sincerest and most affectionate regard for him; a better 
 and a braver heart blood never warmed; I have passed some of the 
 pleasantest hours of my life in his society. If he be gone, my loss 
 is mispeakable, but his country will have a much severer one; he 
 \vas a sincere Irishman ; and if ever an exertion was to be made 
 for our emancipation, he would have been in the very foremost 
 rank; I had counted upon his military talents, and had amused 
 myself often in making him a general ; poor fellow ! If he be gone, 
 there is a chasm in my short list of fiiends, that I will not find it 
 
no LIFE OF 
 
 easy to fill. After all, it may be another; but I fear, I fear I 
 cannot bear to think of it. 
 
 March 6. — I have not had spirits since the news of poor Sweet- 
 man's death to go on with my memorandums. As it happens, I 
 have no serious business, and I am glad of it, for my mind hns 
 been a good deal engaged on that subject. It seems the quarrel 
 arose about treading on a lady's gown, in coming out of the opera, 
 a worthy cause for two brave men to fight about ! They fought at 
 four yards' distance, which was Sweetman's choice; they were both 
 desperately wounded, but Captain Watson (an Irishman also), is 
 likely to recover; my poor, friend is gone. When he received the 
 shot, w^hich went through his body, he cried out to Watson, " Are 
 you wounded?" "Yes," replied the other; "I believe mortally." 
 "And so am I," replied Sweetman; he fell instantly. I certainly 
 did not think I could have been so much affected on his account 
 as I have been. Independently of my personal regard for him, I 
 reckoned much upon his assistance, in case of the French govern- 
 ment affording us any aid. His courage, his eloquence, his popular 
 talents, his sincere affection for his country, would have made him 
 eminently serviceable; all that is now lost; w^e must supply his 
 place as we can. I will write no more about him, but shall ever 
 remember him with the most sincere regret. 
 
 March 11. — Went to the minister, De la Croix, and had a long 
 converstition. He began by saying, that he had read my two 
 memorials carefully, and that I seemed to insist on a considerable 
 force, as necessary to the success of the measure; that, as to that, 
 there were considerable difficulties to be surmounted, arising from 
 the superiority of the English fleet. That, as to 20,000 men, they 
 could not possibly be transported, unless the French were mnsters 
 of the channel, in which case they could as easily send 40,000 or 
 60,000, and march at once to London. (N.B. — In this De la Croix 
 is much mistaken. It would be, in my mind, just as impossible for 
 France to conquer England, as for England to conquer France. 
 He does not know what it is to carry on war in a country where every 
 man's hand is against you, and yet his own country might have 
 given him a lesson; however, it was not ray business to contest 
 the point with him, so I let him go on.) As to 20,000 men, it 
 was thus out of the question. As to 5000, there would be great 
 difficulties; they would require, for example, twenty ships to convey 
 them; it would not be easy to equip twenty sail in a French port 
 "U'ithout the English having some notice, and, in that case, they 
 ■would instantly block up the port with a force double of any that 
 could be sent against them. To this I answered, that I w^as but 
 too sensible of the difficulty he mentioned; that, however, all great 
 
THEOBALD WOLFE TONE. Ill 
 
 enterprizc'S were attended witli gre..t difficulties, and I besought 
 him to consider the magnitude of the object. That, as to 5000. 
 uheu I mentioned that number, it was not that I thoaglit it 
 necessary for the people at large, but for those men of some pro- 
 perty, whose assistance was so essential in framing a government 
 in Ireland, without loss of time; and who might be deterred from 
 coming forward at first, if they saw but an inconsiderable force 
 to support them; that I begged leave to refer to my second 
 memorial, where he would find my reasons on this subject detailed 
 at length ; that I had Vv'ritten those memorials under a strong 
 sense of duty, not with a view to flatter or mislead him, or to say 
 \.hat might be agreeable to the French government, but to give 
 them such information as I thought essential for them to know; 
 that, as to the truth of the facts contained in them, I was 
 willing to stake my head on their accuracy. — He answered, he had 
 no doubt as to that; that he saw, as well as I, the convenience 
 of an immediate government, but was it not feasible on a smaller 
 scale than I had mentioned? For example, if they gave us a 
 general of established reputation, an etat-major, thirty pieces of 
 artillery, with cannoniers, and 20,000 stand of arms, would not the 
 people join them? and if so, might we not call the clubs that I 
 had mentioned in my memorials (meaning the Catholic Committee 
 and the United Irishmen of Belfast), and frame of them a 
 provisory government, until the national convention could be 
 organized! I answered, that as to the people joining them, I never 
 had the least doubt; that my only fear was lest the men who 
 composed the clubs of which he spoke might be at first backward, 
 from a doubt of the sufficiency of the force; that 1 hoped they 
 would act with spirit, and as became them; but that I could not 
 venture to commit my credit with him on any fact of whose 
 certainty I was not positively ascertained. " Well, then," replied 
 he, "supposing your patriots should not act at first with spirit; 
 you say you are sure of the people. In that case, you must only 
 choose delegates from the army, and let them act provisorily, until 
 you have acquired such a consistency as will give courage to the 
 men of whom you make mention." I answered that, by that 
 means, we might undoubtedly act with success; that a sort of 
 military government was not, however, what I should prefer to 
 conunence with, if I saw any other; but that the necessity of the 
 case must justify us in adopting so strong a measure in the first 
 instance. (N.B, — In this I lied a little, for my wishes are in 
 favour of a very strong, or in other words, a military government 
 in the outset; and if I had any share or influence in such govern- 
 ment, I think I would not abuse it; but I see the handle it might 
 
112 tiFE OP 
 
 give to demagogueSj if we had any siicli among us. It is un- 
 necessary here to write an essay on the subject; but the result of 
 my meditations is, that the advantages, all circumstances considered, 
 outweigh the inconveniences and hazard; and I, for one, am ready 
 to take my share of the danger and the responsibility; I was, 
 consequently, glad when De la Croix proposed the measure.) I 
 added, that the means which he then mentioned undoubtedly 
 weakened my argument, as to the necessity of numbers, considerably. 
 He then said, that from Madgett's representations, he had been 
 induced to think that men were not at all wanting. I answered, 
 that was very compatible with my theory, for that certainly if there 
 were any idea of national resistance, 5000 might be said to be no 
 force at all for a conquest. I then shifted the discourse, by saying 
 that, as to the embarkation, on whatever scale it was made, it might 
 be worth consideration whether it could not be best effected from 
 Holland; that their harbours were, I believed, less closely watched 
 than the French; and that, at any rate, England had no port for 
 ships of war to the northward of Portsmouth; so that even if she 
 had a fleet off the coasts of Holland, it must return occasionally to 
 refit, and during one of these intervals the expedition might take 
 place. This brought on the old subject of debauching the Irish 
 seamen in the British navy, which seems a favourite scheme of De 
 la Croix, and is, in my mind, flat nonsense. He questioned me, 
 as before, whether, by preparing a few of them, and suffering them 
 to escape, they might not rouse the patriotism of the Irish seamen, 
 and cause a powerful revulsion in the navy of England. I 
 answered, as I had done already, that the measure was undoubtedly 
 good, if properly followed up; at the same time, that there was 
 great hazard of alarming the British government; that he would 
 find my plan on the subject in my second memorial, where he 
 would see that an Irish government was, in my mind, an indis- 
 pensable requisite; that I did not build on the patriotism of the 
 Irish seamen, but on their passions and interests; that we could 
 ofier them the whole English commerce as a bribe, whilst England 
 has nothing to oppose in return but the mere force of discipline; 
 and I pressed this as strongly on the minister as my execrable 
 French would permit. On the whole, I do not much glory in this 
 day's conversation. If I have not lost confidence, I certainly have 
 not gained any. I see the minister is rooted in his narrow scheme, 
 and I am sorry for it. Perhaps imperious circumstances will not 
 permit him to be otherwise; but if the French government have 
 the power eff'ectually to assist us, and do not, they are miserable 
 politicians. It is now one hundred and three years since Louis 
 XIV. neglected a similar opportunity of separating Irekiud from 
 
THEOBALD WOLFE TONE. 113 
 
 England; and France lias had reason to lament it ever since. He, 
 too, went upon the short-sighted policy of merely embarrassing 
 England, and leaving Ireland to shift as she might. I hope the 
 republic will act on nobler motives, and with more extended views. 
 March 14. — Went this day to the Luxembourg; I have the luck 
 of going on the days that Carnot gives audience, and of course ia 
 most occupied; waited, however, to the last, when only one person 
 ren.ained besides myself. Carnot then called me over, and said, 
 "^ yuu are an Irishman." I answered I was; " then," said he, 
 "here is almost a countryman of yours, who speaks English 
 perfectly. He has the confidence of government; go with him 
 and explain yourself without reserve.'"' I did not much like this 
 referring me over; however, there was no remedy; so I made my 
 bow, and followed my new lover to his hotel. He told me on the 
 way that he was General Clarke; that his father was an Irishman; 
 that he had himself been in Ireland, and had many relations in 
 that country; he added (God forgive him if he exaggerated), that 
 all the military arrangements of the republic passed through his 
 hands; and in short, gave me to understand that he was at the 
 head of the war department. By this time we arrived at the hotel 
 where he kept his bureau, and I observed in passing through the 
 ofhce to his cabinet, an immense number of boxes labelled, Armee 
 du Nord, Armee des Pyrenees, Arm6e du Rhin, etc., etc., so that 
 I was pretty well satisfied that I was in the right tract. When 
 we entered the cabinet, I told him in three words who and what I 
 was, and then proceeded to detail, at considerable length, all I 
 knew on the state of Ireland; which, as it is substantially contained 
 in my two memorials, to which I referred him, I need not here 
 recapitulate. This took up a considerable time; I suppose an hour 
 and a half. He then began to interrogate me on some of the 
 heads, in a manner which showed me that he was utterly un- 
 acquainted with the present state of afiliirs in Ireland, and 
 particularly with the great internal changes which have taken 
 place there within the last three or four years, which, however, is 
 110 impeachment of his judgment or talents; there were, however, 
 other points on which he was radically wrong. For example, he 
 asked me, would not the aristocracy of Ireland, some of which he 
 mentioned, as the Earl of Ormond, concur in the attempt to 
 establish the independence of their country ? I answered, " Most 
 certainly not;" and begged him to remember that if the attempt 
 were made, it would be hy the people, and the people only; that 
 he should calculate on all the opposition that the Irish aristocracy 
 could give; that the French Revolution, which had given courage 
 to the people, had, in the same proportion, alarmed the aristocracy, 
 
114 LIFE OF 
 
 who tremoled for their titles and estates; that this alarm was 
 
 diligently fomented by the British minister, who hud been 
 
 able to persuade every man of property that their only security 
 
 was in supporting him implicity in every measure calculated 
 
 to oppose the progress of what were called French principles; 
 
 that, consequently, in any system he might frame in his 
 
 mind, he should lay down the utmost opposition of the 
 
 aristocracy as an essential point. At the same time, I added that, 
 
 in the case of a landing being effected in Ireland, their opposition 
 
 would be of very little significance, as their conduct had been such 
 
 as to give them no claim on the affections of the people; that their 
 
 own tenants and dependants would, I was satisfied, desert them ; 
 
 and they would become just so many helpless individuals, devoid 
 
 of power and influence. He then mentioned that the volunteer 
 
 convention in 1783, seemed to be an example against what I now 
 
 advanced; the people then had acted through their leaders. I 
 
 answered, they certainly had; and as their leaders had betrayed 
 
 them, that very convention was one reason why the people had for 
 
 ever lost all confidence in what was called leaders. He still seemed, 
 
 however, to have a leaning towards the co-operation of our 
 
 aristocracy, Vt^hich is flat nonsense. He asked me was there no 
 
 one man of that body that we could not make use of? and again 
 
 mentioned, "for esample, the Earl of Ormond." I answered, "not 
 
 one;" that as to Lord Ormond, he was a drunken beast, without 
 
 a character of any kind, but that of a blockhead; that I did believe, 
 
 speaking my own private opinion as an individual, that perhaps 
 
 the Duke of Leinster might join the people, if the revolution was 
 
 once begun, because I thought him a good Irishman; but that for 
 
 this opinion I had merely my ovv^n conjectures; nnd that, at any 
 
 rate, if the beginning was once made, it would be of very little 
 
 •onsequence what part any individual might take. I do not know 
 
 how Fitzgibbon's name happened to come in here, but he asked 
 
 me would it not be possible to make something of him. Any one 
 
 who knows Ireland, will readily believe that I did not find it easy 
 
 to make a serious answer to this question. Yes, Fitzgibbon would 
 
 be very likely, from his situation, his principles, his hopes and his 
 
 fears, his property, and the general tenor of his conduct, to begin 
 
 a revolution in Ireland. At last, I believe, I satisfied Clarke on 
 
 the subject of the support to be expected from our aristocracy. 
 
 He then asked me what I thought the revolution, if begun, would 
 
 terminate in. I answered, undoubtedly, as I thought, in a republic 
 
 allied to France. He then said what security could I give, that in 
 
 twenty years after our independence, we might not be found engaged 
 
 as ;)n ally of England ngainst France l I thought the abservation 
 
 ( 
 
THEOBALD "WOLFE TONE. 115 
 
 a very foolisli one, and only answered tli:it I could not venture to 
 foretell what the combination of events for twenty years might 
 produce; but that in the present posture of affairs, there were few 
 things which presented themselves to my view under a more im- 
 probable shape. He then came to the influence of the Catholic 
 cler^jy over the minds of the people, and the apprehension that they 
 miglit warp them against France. I assured him, as the fact is, 
 that it was much more likely that France would turn the people 
 against the clergy; that within these last few years, that is to say, 
 since the French Revolution, an astonishing change, with regard 
 to the influence of the priests, had taken place in Ireland. I men- 
 tioned to him the conduct of that body, pending the Catholic 
 business, and how much and how justly they had lost character 
 on that account. I told him the anecdote of the Pope's legate, 
 who is also Archbishop of Dublin, being superseded in the actual 
 management of his own chapel, of his endeavouring to prevent a 
 political meeting therein, and of his being forced to submit and 
 attend the meeting himself; but, particularly, I mentioned the cir- 
 cumstance of the clergy excommunicating all defenders, and even 
 refusing the sacraments to some of the poor fellows iii articido 
 mortis, which to a Catholic is a very serious affair, and all to no 
 purpose. This last circumstance seemed to strike him a good deal. 
 He then said that I was not to augur any thing either way, from 
 any thing that passed on that day; that he would read and consider 
 my memorials very attentively; but that I must see that a business 
 of such magnitude could not be discussed in one conversation, and 
 that the first; that I was not, however, to be discouraged because 
 he did not at present communicate with me more openly. I 
 answered I understood all that; that, undoubtedly, on this occasion, 
 it was my turn to speak, and his to hear, as I was not to get 
 infornuition, but to give it. I then fixed with him to return in 
 six days (on the 1st of Germinal), and having requested him to get 
 the original memorials, as he was perfect master of the English, 
 and I could not answer for a translation which I had never seen, 
 I took my leave. 
 
 March 15. — Went to breakfast with Madgett, in consequence 
 of a note which I received from him. Madgett in high spirits ; 
 tells me every thing is going on as well as possible; that our affair 
 is before the directory; that it is determined to give us 50,000 
 stand of arms, artillery for an army of that force, G72 cannoniers, 
 and a demi-brigade, which he tells me is from 3000 to 4000 men; 
 that l\\Q minister desires my opinion in vrriting as to the place of 
 landing. All this was very good and precise. I told him with 
 that force we must land near Belfast, and push on immediately to 
 
116 LIFE OF 
 
 get possession of the Fews mountains, which cover the province of 
 Ulster, until we could raise and arm our forces ; that, if possible, 
 a second landing should be made in the Bay of Galway, which army 
 should cover itself, as soon as possible, by the Shannon, breaking- 
 down most of the bridges, and fortifying the remainder; that we 
 should thus begin with the command of the one half of the nation, 
 and that the most discontented part; that, as to the port of em- 
 barkation, which the minister has also mentioned, I suggested some 
 of the Dutch ports; first, because I believed they were less watched 
 than the French; and next, that England having no harbour where 
 she could refit a fleet, to the north of Portsmouth, even if she kept 
 a fleet in the North Seas, it must return occasionally to relit, and 
 the expedition might take place in the interval. If, however, the 
 Dutch ports were too strongly v/atched, we might go from any of 
 the French harbours on the ocean, and coast round by the west of 
 Ireland into the Lousfh of Belfast. MadGfett reduced this to writin<^ 
 in French, and we went together to the minister, where he delivered 
 it to him before my eyes. Madgett tells me that Prieur de la 
 Marne is in the secret, and has recommended and guaranteed a 
 Capuchin friar of the name of Fitz-Simons to go to Ireland. I 
 told Madgett I had the most violent dislike to Intting any priest 
 into the business at all. He said he did not like it either, but that 
 Prieur de la Marne had known this man for twenty years, and 
 would stake his life on his honesty. I do not care for all that; 
 I give my opinion plump against his being sent. Madgett men- 
 tioned that the fellow had some notion of a resumption of the 
 forfeited lands. That would be a pretty measure to begin with ! 
 Besides, he has been out of the country twenty or thirty years, and 
 knows nothing about it, and, I dare say, hates a Presbyterian like 
 the devil. No! no! If I can help it, he shan't go; if I can't, 
 why, I can't. I want a military man. I must see whoever is sent, 
 I presume; and how can I commit the safety of my friends in Ire- 
 land to a man in whom I have no confidence myself. 
 
 March 20. — Breakfast with Madgett. The minister wants to 
 know our plan of conduct, supposing the landing effected. This 
 has been already detailed in my memorial, but it is necessary to 
 go over the same ground again and again. " Put it to him in 
 other words," viz. — The Catholic committee is already a complete 
 representation of that body; and the Disaentecs are so prepared 
 that they can immediately choose delegates. That those two bodies, 
 when joined, will represent, numerically, nine-tenths of the people; 
 and, of course, un.der existing circumstances, are the best 
 government that we can form at the moment. This Madgett 
 reduced to writing; but I have no copy, which is of the lesd 
 
THEOBALD WOLFE TONE. 117 
 
 coissequence, as the paper is only a paraphrase of part of my last 
 memorial. 
 
 March 21. — Went, by appointment (this being the 1st of 
 Germinal), to the Luxembourg, to General Clarke; ''damn it and 
 rot it for me," he has not yet got my memorials; only think how- 
 provoking. I told him I would make him a fair copy, as I had 
 the rough draft by me. He answered it was unnecessary, as he 
 had o-iven in a memorandum, in writing, to Carnot, to send for the 
 ori 'finals, and would certainly have them before I could make the 
 copy. We then went into the subject as before, but nothing new 
 occnrreJ. He dwelt a little on the nobles and clergy, and I replied 
 as I had done in the former conversation; he said he was satisfied 
 that nothing was to be expected from either, and I answered that 
 he might expect all the opposition they could give, if they had the 
 power to give any; but that, happily, if the landing were once 
 effected, their opinion would be of little consequence. He then 
 asked me, as before, what form of government I thought would be 
 likely to take place in Ireland, in case of the separation being 
 effected ; adding that, as to France, though she would certainly 
 prefer a republic, yet her great object was the independence of 
 Ireland under any form % I answered, I had no doubt whatever 
 that if we succeeded, we would establish a republic; adding that 
 it was my own wish, as well as that of all the men with whom I 
 co-operated. He then talked of the necessity of sending some 
 person to Ireland to examine into the state of things there, adding, 
 *'you would not go yourself." I answered, certainly not; that, in 
 the first place, I had already given in all the information I was 
 possessed of, and for me to add anything to that would be, in fact, 
 only supporting my credit by my own declaration; that he would 
 find, even in the English papers, and I was sure much more in the 
 Irish, if he had them, sulScient evidence of the state of the country 
 to support every word I had advanced ; and evidence of the most 
 unexceptionable nature, as it came out of the mouths of those who 
 were interested to conceal it, and would conceal it, if they could; 
 that for me to be found in Ireland now would be a certain sacra- 
 fice of my life to no purpose; that if the expedition was undertaken, 
 I would go in any station; that I was not only ready and willing, 
 but should most earnestly supplicate and entreat the French 
 government to permit me to take a part, even as a private vohniteer, 
 with a firelock on my shoulder; and that I thought I could be of 
 use to both countries. He answered, "as to that, there could be 
 no difficulty or doubt on the part (jf the French government." Pie 
 then expressed his regret at the delay of the memorials, and 
 assured me he would uso all diligence in procuring them, and would 
 
lis LIFE OP 
 
 uot lose a moment after they came to his hands. Clarke asked 
 nie had I thought of subsisting the French troops after the landing, 
 in case the executive decided in favour of the measure. I answered 
 I had not thought in detail on the subject ; but there was one 
 infallible mode which presented itself, which was, requisition in 
 kind of all things necessar}^; adding, that he might be sure, who- 
 ever wanted, the army should not want, and especially our allies, 
 if we were so fortunate as to obtain their assistance. He asked 
 niP, " Might not that disgust the people of property in Ireland 1 " 
 I answered, the revolution was not to be made for the people of 
 property; but as to those of them who were our friends, the spirit 
 of enthusiasm would induce them to much greater sacrifices ; and 
 as to those who were our enemies, it was fit that they should suffer. 
 
 Maixli 22. — I have worked this day like a horse. In the morn- 
 ing I called on Madgett to tell him that Carnot wanted the 
 memorials, and begged him to expedite them. He boggled a good 
 deal, and I got almost angry; however, I am growing so much of 
 a statesman, that I did not let him see it. I therefore dropped 
 the business of the memorials, and Madgett then told me that he 
 sets off to-morrow, on a pilgrimage, to root out the Irish prisoners 
 of war, and especially Mr William Browne, who is to be sent to 
 Ireland if he can be found out, or if he has not long since been 
 discharged; that he is to go to Versailles, Compiegne, Guise, and 
 propagate the faith amongst the Irish soldiers and seamen. This 
 is his favourite scheme, and is, in my mind, not to mince the 
 matter, damned nonsense. What are five hundred or one thousand 
 Irishmen, more or less, to the success of the business. Nothing. ' 
 And then there is the risk of the business taking wind. I do not 
 like it at all; but I surmise the real truth to be, that it is a small 
 matter of job {a rirlandaise), and that there is some cash to be 
 touched, etc, Madgett's scheme is just like my countryman's, that 
 got on horseback in the packet in order to make more haste. He 
 is always hunting for maps, and then he thinks he is making 
 revolutions. I believe he is very sincere in the business; but he 
 docs, to be sure, at times pester me confoundedly. 
 
 March 23. — Madgett sent for me this morning to tell me, as 
 usual, that every thing is going on well; but, for my part, I think 
 every thing is going on very slowly. Madgett then told me the 
 minister desired I should draw up such a memorial as I thought 
 the French commander ought to publish on landing. Tb.at is not 
 quite so easy. I wished to evade it by saying the style of French 
 eloquence w\as so different from ours that I doubted my abilities 
 to do it. He answered, it was precisely for that reason it was 
 necessary I should write it; that^ when I had done, the exccutivo 
 
THEOBALD WOLFE TONE. 119 
 
 directory would make sucli c'llterations and additions as tlioy miglit 
 see necessary; but the ground work must be mine. I then said 
 I would try, and we parted. 
 
 March 2Jf.. — Began my French manifesto. It drags a little heavy 
 or so, but there is no remedy. I wish they would write it themselves. 
 
 March '25. — At work in the morning at my manifesto. I think 
 it begins to clear up a little. I find a strong disposition to be 
 scurrilous against the English government, which I will not check. 
 I will write on, pell-mell, and correct it in cool blood, if my blood 
 will ever cool on that subject. 
 
 March 27. — On looking over my manifesto this morning, I begin 
 U> think it is damned trash. God forgive me if I judge uncharit- 
 ably, but it seems to me to be pitiful stuff; at any rate, it certainly 
 is not a French manifesto at all; and I foresaw in the outset the 
 difficulty of writing in the character of a French general. If I 
 were to compose a manifesto for the Irish convention, and hud 
 good advisers, I might get on; but, as to this affair, I see that I 
 sh.dl have to give it up for hard work, as they say in Galway. 
 Went at l.wo o'clock to General Clarke, and had a long conversation. 
 He told me he had read my two memorials, and without flattery 
 could assure me they were extremely well done (that of course); 
 that he had made, in consequence, a favourable report to Cariiot, 
 who endeavoured to read them also; but finding a difficulty in 
 reading English manuscript, he (Clarke) was to translate them for 
 him ; that all he could at present tell me was, that the executive 
 .was determined to send a person directly to Ireland; and that he had 
 in consequence written to an ex-officer of the Irish brigade to know 
 if he would go, but that he declined on the score of health. I told 
 him I was sorry for that, as a military man, if one could be found 
 proper in other respects, is what I would prefer. I then w-ent 
 oil to observe, that I hoped, if the measure were adopted 
 by the French executive, that they decidedly should delay 
 it till the return of this emissary, if one were sent, especially 
 as his business would be to give information in Ireland, not to 
 bring any thence. Clarke answered, supposing the measure to be 
 adopted, certainly not; that all preparations would be going on in 
 the meantime; but I must see it would be necessary to send a 
 person to apprize the people in Ireland. I replied, by all means; 
 but that whoever we sent, he must carry no papers, nor speak to 
 'above four or five persons, whom I would point out, for fear of 
 I-izarding a discovery, which might blast all; in which Clarke 
 agreed. We then fell into discourse on the detail of the business, 
 being, in fact, a kind of commentary, viva voce, on the memorials. 
 I began by saying, that as I presumed the number of troops would 
 
120 LIFE OF 
 
 not be above five or six thousand men, I hoped and expected they 
 would be the best that France could spare us. Clarke replied, 
 they would undoubtedly be sufficiently disciplined. I answered, 
 it was not merely disciplined troops, but men who were accustomed 
 to stand fire; that we wanted some of the old battalions from 
 Holland or the Rhine; for as to raw troops, we should soon have 
 enough of them. Clarke answered that he could not promise we 
 should have the pick and choice of tht French army, but that, if 
 any were sent, they would be brave troops, that would run on the 
 enemy as soon as they saw them. I answered, as to the courage 
 of the French army, it was sufficiently known, and I would venture 
 to say, that wherever they would lead, the Irish would follow. 
 Clarke then said there was some Irish officers yet remaining in 
 France, who might go, and he mentioned Jennings, who used to 
 call himself Baron de Kilmaine: God knows why. I answered, 
 that in Ireland we had no great confidence in the officers of the 
 old Irish brigade, so many of them had either deserted or betrayed 
 the French cause; that as to Jennings, he had had the misfortune 
 to command after Custine, and had been obliged to break up the 
 famous " Camp de Caesar;" that, though this might probably have 
 been no fault of his, it had made an impression; and, as he was 
 at any rate not a fortunate genera], I thought it would be better 
 to have a Frenchman. We then began to chat rather than talk 
 seriously, and moot points of war. First, as to Dublin, I told him 
 I did not expect, with the proposed force, that much could be done 
 there at first; that its garrison was always at least 5000 strong; 
 and that the government, taking advantage of the momentary 
 success of the coalesced despots, had disarmed the peof)]e, taken 
 their cannon, and passed the gunpowder and convention bills, 
 whose nature and operation I explained to him; that, however, if 
 the landing were once effected, one of two things would happen: 
 either the government would retain the garrison for their security, 
 in which case there would be 5000 men idle on the part of the 
 enemy, or they would march them off to oppose us, in which case 
 the people would rise and seize the capital; and I added, if they 
 preferred the first measure, which I thought most likely, whenever 
 we were strong enough to march southward, if we were, as I had 
 no doubt we should be, superior in the field, we could starve 
 Dublin in a week, Vv'ithout striking a blow. 
 
 I like this day's business very well. I see I was wrong the 
 day before yesterday in thinking Clarke's manner cold. I fancy 
 that it was myself that was out of temper, because, forsooth, lie 
 had not read my nieniorials. 
 
 April 1. — Saw a superb battalion of infantry, and a squadron 
 
THEOBALD WOLFE TONE. 121 
 
 of cavalry inspected at the Tuilleries by a general officer. The 
 French are very fine troops, such of them as I have seen; they 
 are all the right military age, with scarcely any old men past 
 service, or boys not grown up to it. They are not very 
 correct in their evolutions; nor near equal to the English, and 
 much less, as I suppose, to the Germatis. This has a little shaken 
 my faith in the ft)rce of discipline, for they have certainly beaten 
 both British and Germans like dogs; but after the spectacles which 
 I see daily, why need I wonder at that 1 Thft fete de la jeunesse, 
 for example, of yesterday, explains it at once. Discipline will not 
 stand against such enthusiasm as I was a witness to, and, I may 
 say, as I felt myself. If we go on in Ireland, we must move 
 heaven and earth to create the same spirit of enthusiasm which I 
 see here; and, from my observation of the Irish character, which 
 so nearly resembles the French, I think it very possible. The 
 devil of it is, that poor Pat is a little given to drink, and the 
 French are very sober. We must rectify that as well as we can ; 
 he is a good man that has no fault; and I have a sort of sympathetic 
 feeling which makes me the more indulgent on this score. (Query). 
 Woald it have a good effect to explode corporal punishment alto- 
 gether in the Irish army, and substitute a discharge with infamy 
 for f^reat faults, and confinement and hard diets for lesser ones ? 
 I believe there is no corporal punishment in the French army; and 
 I would wish to create a spirit in our soldiers, a high point of 
 honour, like that of the French. When one of their generals 
 (Marshal Eichelieu) was beseiging a town, he was tormented with 
 the drunkenness of his army. He gave out, in orders, that any 
 soldier who was seen drunk should not be suffered to mount to 
 the assault, and there was not a man to be seen in liquor after- 
 wards. Drunkenness then induced a suspicion of cowardice, which 
 kept them effectually sober. It is a choice anecdote, and pregnant 
 with circumstances. 
 
 April 2. — Went to-day to Clarke, at Luxembourg, He tells 
 me he has been hunting in vain for a proper person to go to Ireland; 
 that he had a Frenchman tampered with, who was educated from 
 a child in England, and spoke the language perfectly. That, at 
 first, he agreed to go, but afterwards, on learning the penalties of 
 the English law against high treason, his heart failed him and he 
 declined. This is bad. However, there is no remedy. Clarke 
 went on to tell me that if the measure were pursued (without say- 
 ing whether it would or not), the executive were determined to 
 employ me in the French service in a military capacity; and that 
 I might depend on finding every thing of that kind settled to my 
 satisf iction. I answered that, as to my own personal feeling??, I 
 
122 LIFE .OP 
 
 liud notliiiig more to demand. He then wished I would give liim 
 a short plan of a system of Chouannerie in Ireland, particularly in 
 Munster; for he would tell me frankly, the government had a 
 design before anything more serious was attempted, to turn in d 
 parcel of renegadoes (or, as he said, blackguards), into Ireland, ill 
 order to distress and embarrass the government there, and distract 
 them in their motions. I answered, I was sorry to hear it. That, 
 if a measure of that kind were adopted with a view to prepare the 
 minds of the peoj)le, it was unnecessary, for they were already 
 sufficiently prepared. That it would only produce local insurrec- 
 tions, which v/ould soon be suppressed, because the army (including 
 the militia) would, in that case, to a certainty, support the govern- 
 ment; and every man, of any property, even those who wished for 
 the independence of their country, would do the same, from the 
 dread of indiscriminate plunder, which would be but too likely to 
 ensue from such a measure as he described; that there was another 
 thing very much to be apprehended in that case, and which, if I 
 were minister of England, I should not hesitate one moment about, 
 and in which the parliaments of both countries would instantly 
 concur, viz., to pass tv/o acts, repealing those clauses which enact 
 that the militia shall only serve in their own country, and directly 
 to shift the militia of Ireland into England, and replace them by 
 the English militia, which would serve to awe both countries, and 
 most materially embarrass us. That, if all this was so, and those 
 insurrections suppressed, their inevitable effect, grounded upon all 
 historical experience, would be to strengthen the existing govern- 
 ment. That England would take that opportunity to reduce 
 Ireland again to that state of subjection, or even a v^orse one thaii 
 she had been in before 1782; and v/ould bind her, hand and foot, 
 in such a manner as to make all future exertion impossible; in 
 which she would be supported by the whole Irish aristocracy, who 
 compose the legislature, and who would sacrifice everything to 
 their own security. 
 
 April 3. — Called on Madgett this morning, by appointment. 
 He is always full of good news. He tells me the marine force 
 will be seventeen ships of war, great and small, arms and artillery, 
 etc., for 50,000 men; that many of the officers are already named, 
 but he believes not the general-in-chief. All this is very good, but 
 " Would I could see it," quoth blind Hugh. We then came to my 
 commission in the service of the republic. He asked me, as I was 
 here the representative of the Irish people, would I not feel it 
 beneath the dignity of that character to accept of a commission; 
 for, as to the French government, the}'- would give me any rank 
 1 x^leased to demand, I answered, that I considered the station 
 
THEOBALD WOLFE TONE. 123 
 
 of a French officer was one that would reflect honour on any one 
 who filled it; that, consequently, on that score, I could have no 
 possible objection; that, besides, my object was to insure protec- 
 tion, in case any of the infinite varieties of accidents incident to 
 the fortune of war should throw me into the hands of the enemy- 
 that I was very willing to risk my life in the field, but not to be 
 hanged up as a traitor; that, as to rank, it was indifferent to me; 
 as I did not doubt but, as soon as things were a little reduced into 
 order in Ireland, I should obtain ^^uch a station in that service :is 
 they might think I merited; that, in the meantime, I should wish 
 to be of the family of the general-in-chief, as I could be of use 
 there, speaking a little French, to interpret between him and the 
 natives, unless the government here thought proper to raise a corps 
 of the Irish prisoners, in which case, I hoped they would entrust 
 me with the command. 
 
 April 9. — Sullivan called on me this morning, with an English 
 paper of the 31st March (ten days ago), in which is an article on 
 Ireland, wherein mention is made of Sir Edward Bellew, of 
 Bellewstown, being arrested as connected with the defenders. This 
 surprises me, for he is a confirmed aristocrat, and he and all his 
 family, have been so devoted to the government as even to have the 
 meanness of opposing the Catholics, Such is the gratitude of the 
 Irish government. But this piece of news is accompanied by 
 another, which gives me the most sincere anxiety on every possible 
 account, public or private: it is the arrest of John Keogh. Poor 
 fellow, this is no place to write his panegyric. I have not got such 
 a shock this long time. If we lose him, I know not where to look 
 for a man to supply his place. I have differed from him at one 
 time, but his services to Ireland have been eminent indeed, more 
 especially to the Catholics; and, in all probability, they will prove 
 his ruin, for, from the state of his health, confinement in the un- 
 wholesome air of a prison will be to him death as certain as the 
 guillotiiie. I am inexpressibly concerned on his account. That 
 infernal govermiient of Ireland! It is for a long time they have 
 been on the watch for his destruction, and I am sure they will stick 
 at no means, however atrocious, to accomplish their ends. I can 
 scarcely promise myself ever to see him again, and I can sincerely 
 say that one of the greatest pleasures which I anticipated 
 in case of our success, was the society of Mount Jerom, where 
 I have spent many happy days, and some of them serviceable 
 to the country. It was there that he and I used to frame 
 our papers and manifestoes. It was there we drew up the 
 petition and vindication of the Catholics, which produced such 
 powerful effects both in England and Ireland. I ver^' much fear 
 
124 LIFE OF 
 
 we shall never labour together again for the good of our native 
 country. I am sure he has been too wise and too cautious to put 
 himself in their power; but what wisdom or caution is proof against 
 forged or suborned testimony, which I know they will never stick 
 at procuring; and in the state affairs are now in Ireland, any 
 evidence will be received. Well, a day will come for all this. If 
 we cannot prevent bis fall, at least I hope we shall be able to 
 revenge it; and I, for one, if it be in twenty years from this, 
 promise not to forget it. My heart is hardening hourly, and I 
 satisfy myself now at once on points which would stagger me 
 twelve months ago. The Irish aristocracy are putting theuiselves 
 in a state of nature with the people, and let them take the conse- 
 quences, Thoy show no mercy, and they deserve none. If ever 
 1 have the power, I will most heartily concur in making them a 
 dreadful example. Dined to-day in the Champs Elysees, with 
 Madgett and a person of the name of Aherne, a physician, who is 
 to be sent to Ireland. Explained to him my sentiments as to the 
 conduct he should adopt there, and particularly cautioned him 
 against writing a S3dlable, or carrying a single scrape of a pen with 
 bim; pointed out to him the persons whom he is to see and speak 
 to, at the same time that I fear many of the most useful are now 
 either in prison or concealing themselves. This comes of delay, 
 but that is no fault of mine. I like Aherne very well; he seems 
 a cool man with good republican sentiments. He has been already 
 employed in Scotland. Apropos, of Scotland. There is some 
 scheme going on there, as I recollected from hints which dro[)ped 
 from him and Madgett, but what it is I know not, nor did I inquire. 
 My opinion is, that nothing v/ill ever be done there, unless wo 
 first begin in Ireland. 
 
 AjDvil 11. — Sullivan called on me this morning, for it is he that 
 brings my secondary intelligence, to tell me that D'Albarade, the 
 late minister of the marine, is to command the naval department 
 of our expedition; and that a confidential person told him yesterday 
 that he might look for good news soon for his country, for that 
 there was something at that moment doing for her in Holknid; by 
 which I presume that it is there their preparations are making. I 
 am glad of that. I mentioned Holland myself to Carn«)t, Clarke, 
 and the minister. By-the-bye, the minister is on the eve of being 
 turned out, but as the business is now in the hands of Carnot 
 himself, I am in hopes that will make no difference to us. I do 
 not glory at all in the present aspect of things. 
 
 April 3. — By-the-bye, Clarke is just as competent to regulate 
 this affair, as I am to be made Lord Chancellor of England; and 
 for my fitness for this station, I appeal to all who ever knew me 
 
THEOBALD WOLFE TONE, 125 
 
 in the capacity of a lawyer. I have not forgot his nonsense about 
 gaining over some of the Irish aristocracy to our side, to begin 
 with; such as Lord Ormond, for example; neither have I forgot 
 his asking me, might we not make something of Fitzgibbon 1 
 Good God, is it not enough to set one mad, to be obliged to listen 
 and keep my temper, not to say my countenance, at such execrable 
 trash ? And yet the fate of Irehmd is in a certain degree in this 
 man's hands. Well, well, wretched, I again repeat it, is the nation 
 whose independence hangs on the will of another. Clarke had 
 also some doubts as to my report on the influence of the Irish 
 priests, which he dreads a good deal; and this is founded on his 
 own observation, on a visit he paid to Ireland in the year 
 1789. That is to say a Frenchman, who just peeps into 
 the country, for an instant, seven years ago, and then in 
 the heat of the revolution, sets up his oj^inion against mine, 
 who have been on the spot, who had attentively studied and 
 been confidentially employed, and to whom nothing relating 
 to Catholic affairs could possibly be a secret. That is reasonable 
 and modest in my friend Clarke. He likewise catechised Aherne, 
 as to the chance of our preferring monarchy as to our form of 
 government, in case of a successfuf revolution; adding that, in that 
 case, we would of course consult the French government in our 
 choice. This is selling the bear's skin with a vengeance. I 
 wonder does he seriously think that, if we succeeded, we would 
 come post to Paris to consult him. General Clarke, a handsome, 
 smooth-faced young man, as to what we should do? I can assure 
 him we would not. When he spoke to me on this head, he was 
 more reasonable, for he said it was indifferent to the French 
 republic what form of government we adopted, provided we secured 
 our independence. It seems now he is more sanguine; but I, for 
 one, will never be accessory to subjecting my country to the control 
 of France, merely to get rid of that of England. 
 
 AjJril 15. — Went with Aherne to the minister, and met a most 
 gracious reception. He had seen Clarke, to whom the military 
 part of the business had been entrusted, and who assured him that 
 preparations were actually making in the interior of Holland. 
 With regard to Aherne, he said his instructions would be ready in 
 three or four days. Then we shall see something of the matter. 
 I mentioned to him the arrestation of Keogh, and the embarrass- 
 ment it nuist produce in our affairs. He observed, it would only 
 inflame the people's minds the more. I answered, as to them, they 
 were sufficiently inflamed already; but the embarrassment which 
 I saw, was in the imprisonment of him and others, inasmuch as 
 they could be of such service in framing a provisional government. 
 
126 LIFE OF 
 
 I observed likewise, and begged liim to remember, tliat tbe very 
 men I had pointed out as my friends, and as the proper persons to 
 speak to in Ireland, were the very persons now imprisoned and 
 persecuted by the British government. I also took the opportunity 
 to apologise for not seeing him oftener; that I knew the value of 
 his time too well to take it up in visits of ceremony, and we parted 
 the best friends in the world; he assuring me that in every part of 
 the business wherein he was engaged, I might depend on his 
 utmost exertions. I must now wait till I see Ah erne's instructions. 
 
 Api'il 20, — Went with Aherne, at one o'clock, to the minister's, 
 in order to see after his instructions. At last there is a prospect 
 of something like business. The minister read the draft of the 
 instructions, in which there is a great deal of trash mixed with 
 some good sense. Only think of one of the articles, wherein they 
 say, that if Ireland continues devoted to the House of Stuart, one 
 of that family can be found who will be agreeable to all parties ! 
 Who the devil is this Pretender in petto ? It is ail one to us, 
 however, for we will have nothing to do with him. I made one 
 or two observations on the instructions, to the minister; he acted 
 very fairly, for he gave them to me, and desired me to make what 
 observations struck me; and as*to Aherne, he said that he must 
 only be guided by such of them as might apply to the state of 
 things he found there, and disregard those that did not; all which 
 is candid. I see the instructions are written by Clarke, for I find 
 in them his trash about monarchy, the noblesse, and clergy. There 
 is one thing, however, which reconciles me to all this absurdity, 
 which is, that the French government promises us 10,000 men and 
 20,000 stand of arms; with that force I have not the shadow of 
 doubt of our success. It is to be escorted by nine sail of the line 
 (Dutch, I believe), and three frigates, and will be ready about the 
 middle or towards the end of May, which is not more than six 
 weeks ojff. 
 
 Aj^ril 22. — Copied Aherne's instructions, and wrote my observa- 
 tions, which are very short. I barely mention what is necessary, 
 and for the rest I say all is very right; and that when he arrives 
 in Ireland, I have no doubt but the people there will execute every 
 p.'irt of them which circumstances will admit. Gave them to 
 Madgett to translate. Went to Clarke to apprize him of ray having 
 changed my lodgings: asked him had he any news for me. He 
 answered not. I replied that hitherto he had not found me very 
 pressing for information; but that, nevertheless, I expected that 
 when the time came, I should be properly apprized of every thing. 
 Ke replied, " Certainly." He then attacked me about his pro- 
 clamation for Chouannising England. I replied that I had done i 
 
THSOBA.LD WOLFE TONE. 12'7 
 
 nothing in it, and tliat if lie would permit me to give ray opinion, 
 the measure was unwise and impracticable ; that the peasantry of 
 England were not at all in a situation which rendered it likely they 
 would take any part in such a business, for several reasons which 
 I enumerated; that perhaps in Scotland, which, however, I was 
 not sure of, it might do, but in England, never. He pressed me, 
 however, to write the manifesto. I replied as before, that I did 
 not know their grievances, and would much rather write one for 
 Ireland, w'hich I did know. He desired me to do that also, and 
 without loss of time. I promised him I would, and so we parted. 
 He is a strange fellow. 
 
 April 25. — Went with Aherne to the minister's, and gave him 
 my observations, which he read and liked very well. He struck 
 Out, in consequence, all the stuff about royalty, etc., and returned 
 the instructions to Aherne, in order to his copying them; but kept 
 my observations to show them to Carnot. He tells me Aherne 
 will be despatched in a few days, and that he has every reason to 
 think the expedition v/ili be ready by the latter end of May. 
 
 April 26. — Wrote a short memorial on the force and disposition 
 of the army in Ireland, as it appears in the English papers, and 
 gave it to Sullivan to translate. I think it is very prettily done, 
 which is not the case with all my productions. I will give it to 
 the minister to-morrow. 
 
 Apjnl 27. — Sullivan brought me my memorial admirably 
 translated. Went at one o'clock to the minister's, where I met 
 Aherne. The minister tells us the directory is just now occupied 
 by very important business, but in two or three days will be dis- 
 engaged, and then Aherne will receive his final instructions and be 
 despatched; he also told me, that matters were so arranged and 
 combinations made, that in a month every thing would be ready. 
 All this is excellent, but I am sworn never to believe it till I see it. 
 May 2. — AVent to the Luxembourg; saw Rewbell giving audience 
 in his costume ; wrote a note desiring to see Carnot, and was ad- 
 mitted; he recollected me perfectly. I began by saying, fluently 
 enough, that in pursuance of his orders I had been several times 
 with General Clarke, and had given him all the information I was 
 possessed of, as well verbally as by memorials and other papers. 
 He said he knew I had. I then observed that, considering General 
 Clarke as in an ofHcial situation, I had avoided pressing him to 
 give me any information in return; but that, at present, when I 
 learned directly from the minister, and indirectly from many other 
 quarters, that preparations were in a considerable degree of 
 forwardness for the expedition, I hoped when he considered the 
 efforts I had made, the risks I had luo, the d^ingers I bad escaped 
 
128 LIFE OF 
 
 in eiicleavouring to lay the state of Ireland before the Frencli 
 government, as well as the situation I had once the honour to 
 fill in my own country, that he would not consider me as 
 unreasonably importunate in requesting him to give me such 
 information as he might deem proper, as to the state of the 
 expedition, supposing it were to take place. He replied my request 
 was not at all unreasonable; but that, before measures were 
 finally determined upon, it would be necessary that the French 
 government should be satisfied as to the actual state of things in 
 Ireland; and for that purpose a person should be sent to observe 
 everything, and make his report accordingly; for if the people there 
 were amicable to the French republic, the attempt might be made; 
 but if not, it would require a considerable force to conquer the 
 country. This was a staggering blow to me, to find myself no 
 farther advanced at the end of three months than I was at my first 
 audience. However, I recollected myself, and said, that undoubt- 
 edly the French government was in the right to expect every 
 j)0ssible information as to the actual state of the country; but that 
 I beoired leave to observe that there were few individuals more 
 competent, from their situation, to give them that information 
 than myself; much more so than any stranger they might send, 
 who would just slide into the country for a moment, and return, 
 if he v'ere lucky enough to escape; that as to all I had advanced, 
 r hoped he would find my assertions confirmed by the English 
 gazettes; that, nevertheless, if he doubted my information, or 
 enpposed that affairs might be altered since my departure from 
 Ireland, and so thought it necessary to send a confidential person, 
 I begged him to remember that the time was precious, and there 
 was not one moment to lose. He said he understood that I could 
 not go myself I answered, I was too well known in that country 
 to be there four-and-twenty hours without being discovered and 
 seized; that, consequently, I was the most unfit person in the 
 world; and I took that opportunity to mention that, if the 
 expedition were undertaken, I hoped to be permitted to bear a 
 part in its execution. He replied, that the French government 
 won I in that case certainly avail themselves of my courage and 
 talents [profiter de voire courage et de vos talents). But still he did 
 not say whether the expedition w^ould take place or not, thv)ugh 
 this was the second push I made at him on that head. When I 
 saw he would not give me any definite information, I observed that 
 there was a subject on which I had received such positive instruc- 
 tions on leaving Ireland, that I considered myself bound to 
 mention it to him; and that was relative to the general who 
 might be appointed to the command; that it was our wish, if 
 
THEOBALD WOLFE TONE. l2o» 
 
 possible, that it sbould be Pichegrii; that if he remained at the 
 head of the army of the Rhine, 1 probably should not have 
 mentioned him; but that at present, when he is not employed in 
 any military function, I hoped I was not irregular in praying him 
 (Carnot) to turn his thoughts on Pichegru for that command; 
 supposing, as before, that the expedition was to take place. Carnot 
 replied, that undoubtedly Pichegru was an officer of consummate 
 talents; but, at the same time, there were many generals not 
 inferior to him in abilities {aussi forts que lui). I replied I was 
 satisfied that the republic abounded with excellent officers; but 
 that, in my country, the prejudice as to Pichegru's character was 
 so strong, that I rated him equal to an array of 20,000 men, as to 
 the effect his appointment w^ould have on both parties in Ireland. 
 He replied that he would give every consideration to what I said 
 on the subject; and that, at any rate, I had done perfectly right 
 in suggesting Pichegru to the notice of the directory. I then 
 observed that as to Pichegru himself, I thought the appointment 
 would add a, new lustre to his former glory; that, if he desired 
 fame, the assisting in creating a free republic of 4,500,000 people 
 was an object of no ordinary magnitude; and if he was studious 
 of his interest, which I did not suppose, he might rely on the 
 gratitude of my country in its lullest extent, as well as every 
 person who might be instrumental in establishing her liberties. 
 Just at this moment General Clarke entered, and I cannot 
 say that he seemed highly delighted at the rencontre. I 
 took my leave of Carnot, and went over to speak to him. I 
 told him in substance our conversation as above written, and 
 when I mentioned Pitchegru, he said, "Pichegru. Oh, he wor/t 
 accept it," I said I was sorry for it. He then asked me had I 
 finished his proclamations for chouannising England. I told him 
 I found it impossible; but that I would finish the one I had begun 
 for Ireland, whose grievances I knew, and with whose local cir 
 cumstances I was acquainted; of both of which, with regard to 
 England, I was utterly ignorant. He desired me then to finish 
 that one, and bring it to him without loss of time. I said I would 
 in the course of four or five days, and took my leave. 
 
 May 10. — Madgett has got orders to find ten or a dozen intelli- 
 gent prisoners, who are to be sent into England. Into England, 
 of all places in the world ! What can that mean ? He tells me 
 there is to be an expedition there, contemporary with ours, in order 
 to cut out work for John Bull at home, and prevent his distracting 
 his poor head too much about his Irish aff;iirs. He tells me, also, 
 that Hoche is to command in England. If that be so, it h)ok3 
 serious, but Madgett is so terribly sanguine that I know not what 
 
130 IIFE OF 
 
 to think. I will say A)! tLc })icscnt, in the Language of the Gazette, 
 ''this news merits further contirmatioR." At work at my pro- 
 clamation. 
 
 May 11. — At work furionsly at my proclamation; I like it better 
 than my first attempt. Madgett is gone in search of his imps, 
 whom he has orders to send off to Hoche as soon as he has found 
 them. That looks a little serious, but still I am slow of faith. 
 
 May 23, 24, 25, 26. — After balancing, for four or five days, and 
 turning the matter every way in my thoughts, I have taken my 
 resolution, and written this day to my dearest love, to Rowan, and 
 Doctor Reynolds, acquainting them with my determination to 
 settle in France, and desiring them to make preparations for the 
 departure of my family with all possible haste. It is a bold 
 measure, but "Audaces fortuna juvat." If my negotiation here 
 succeeds, it will be best they should be it) France; if it fails, still 
 I am satisfied it is more advisable for us to settle here than in 
 America. At all events, the die is cast. It is an epoch in my 
 life. I have decided to the best of my judgment, and if I fiil, I 
 faih I am weary of floating about at the mercy of events; let me 
 fix myself, if possible, at last. 
 
 June 1, 2, 3. — A faint ray of hope has broke to-day across the 
 impenetrable gloom which has, for some time back, enveloped my 
 prospects. I called on Clarke, pro forma, not expecting to find 
 hin), in which I was not disappointed. I found, however, a note, 
 informing me that he had read my proclamation, and liked it very 
 well; that, however, it would be necessary to curtail it somewhat, 
 and that he desired to see me for that purpose, any time after this 
 day and to-morrow. It is the first time he has desired to see me. 
 Well, that is something. I wrote an answer immediately, appoint- 
 ing the 18th Prairial (6th June), by which I leave him, out of 
 respect, one day clear. Will any thing come out of this? I am 
 glad Clarke likes my proclamation, which I found too long myself. 
 I see he has a correct taste in those things. If the expedition 
 takes place, it will be something to boast of to have written the 
 proclamation. But let me not be " running before my horse to 
 market.'* I have kept my hopes under a strict regimen all alonsr, 
 and latteily, God knows, on a very low diet. 1 will not let this 
 breeze tempt me to spread a deal of canvass, merely to have it furl 
 again. Things are, however, better to-day than they were yesterday. 
 June 6. — Called this morning, by appointment, upon General 
 Clarke. Found him more cordial in his manner than ordinary. 
 He told me he had read my proclamation, and found it extremely 
 Well done; that, however, it would be necessary to curtail it con- 
 siderably, for the first point in these compositions is to insure their 
 
tHEOBALD WOLFE TONE. 131 
 
 being read, and, for that, it is necessary they should be short; that 
 there would be a longer one prepared for those who studied politics, 
 but that mine was destined for the people and soldiery. I thought 
 there was good sense in all this, and I can safely say that, in all 
 the public papers I have ever written, I am above the personal 
 vanity of an author, as I believe God can witness. I therefore told 
 him I would min.^e it sa7is remorse. He then told me I might 
 rely on it, they had not lost sight either of the business itself or 
 of my share in it. 
 
 June 13, IJf. — Called on Clarke this morning, for want of other 
 idleness. Clarke was civil enough. I want to consult him as to 
 what I am to do concerning trade affiiirs. My finances are reduced 
 to a state truly deplorable. I am vv^orth to-day about thirteen 
 Louis d'ors, which will not last me more than a month, and I must 
 not let myself be run to the last sol. I might have been, perhaps, 
 something more economical, but not much, all things considered. 
 
 June 18, 19. — Called on Clarke by appointment. Found his 
 aid-de-camp copying my proclamation, as abridged. Clarke seemed 
 glad to see me, and begged to make a copy myself, as he wanted 
 it immediately. I accordingly sat myself down at his desk, and 
 he went about his lawful occasions. In about half an hour I had 
 finished, and he returned. I told him in three words the position 
 of my affairs; that I had gone on thus far entirely on my own 
 means, and calculated I had about as much as would enable me to 
 carry on the war another month, in which time I should be a see, 
 as the French say ; finally, I asked his advice on the premises. 
 He answered me friendly enough: he said they must provide for 
 me in the military line, for which I had expressed an inclination, 
 and in the cavalry, where the pay was most considerable ; but 
 added, that the pay of all ranks was below their necessities. He 
 then asked, had I ever served ? I ansv»^ered, no ; that I had been 
 a volunteer in the Belfast regiment, which I considered as no 
 service, but was fond of a military life; and in case of any thing 
 being done for Ireland, it would be the line I should adopt. He 
 then said my not having served might make some difficulty, but 
 that he would see about it, and let me know the result in three or 
 four days, adding, that I might be sure something would be done. 
 He then took me in his carriage to the minister's with whom he 
 had buriness. On the way I told him it was extremely painful to 
 me to apply to the republic for any pecuniary assistance, but that 
 circumstances compelled me; that I was not a man of expense, and 
 that of course a moderate supply would satisfy me; and added, that, 
 being engaged here in the service of my country, any sum advanced 
 to me was to be considered as advanced on her account, and as 
 
132 LIFE Of 
 
 sucli to be repaid, with all other expenses, at the conclusion of the 
 business. He laughed at this, and said we would have no money. 
 I said that was true, or, at least, we should not have much, but 
 we would have means; and I instanced the quantity of English 
 property which would, in that event, be forfeited to the state; and 
 assured him we would have enough to pay our debts of justice, 
 of honour, and of gratitude. 
 
 Jime 20. — To-day is my birth day — I am thirty-three years old. 
 At that age Alexander had conquered the world ; at that age Wolfe 
 had completed his reputation, and expired in the arms of victory. 
 Well, it is not my fault, if I am not as great a man as Alexander 
 or Wolfe. I have as good dispositions for glory as either of them, 
 but I labour under two small obstacles at least — want of talents and 
 want of opportunities; neither of which, I confess, I can help. 
 
 June 23. — Called on Clarke in the morning, and found him in 
 high good humour. He tells me that he has mentioned my business 
 to Carnot, and that within a month I may expect an appointment 
 in the French army. This is glorious ! He asked me would 
 I choose to serve in the cavalry or infantry. I said it was equal 
 to me, and referred it to him to fix me in the most eligible situa- 
 tion. I fancy it will be in the cavalry, " for a captain of horse 
 never takes off his hat." He then told me that he was at liberty 
 to acquaint me so far, as that the business, and even the time, were 
 determined on by the directory, and the mnnner only remained 
 under discussion. There is good news at last. I observed to him, 
 after expressing the satisfaction I sincerely felt at this information, 
 that I wished to remind him of the great advantages to be 
 derived from the landing being effectuated in the North, particu- 
 larly from the circumstance of framing our first army of the different 
 religious pei^suasions, which I pressed upon him, I believe, with 
 success. I then asked him, had he many Irish prisoners remaining, 
 as I thought they might be usefully employed in case of the 
 landing being effected. He laughed at this, and said, " I see you 
 want to form your regiment." I said I should like very well to 
 command two or three hundred of them, who might be formed 
 into a corps of hussars, to serve in the advanced guard of the army, 
 not only as soldiers, which I knew they would, and with sufficient 
 courage, but as ecclaireurs to incense the country people. He 
 seemed to relish this a good deal, and I went on to say that, in 
 that case, they should be as an Irish corps in green jackets, with 
 green feathers, and a green standard with the harp, surmounted by 
 the cap of liberty. He bit at this, and made me draw a sketch of 
 the device, and also a description, which he took down himself in 
 French, from which I infer the standaj-'J will be made directly. 
 
:i:nEOElLD WOLFE TONE. 133 
 
 Whilst I was w'th Clarke, Madgett called on him, and I stepped 
 into the next room whilst ho gave him audience. It was to 
 recommend Aherne to be employed as a military man in this 
 business. Clarked seemed, I thought, disinclined. He asked me 
 did I know Aherne 1 I answered that I saw him merely officially 
 by the minister's orders, but that I knew nothing whatsoever to 
 his prejudice; and that, as to Madgett, I had a very good opinion 
 of him, and of course supposed he w^ould not recommend an 
 improper person; thnt, however, I could say nothing from myself, 
 for or against him, further than what I had mentioned. N.B. — I 
 do not wish to hurt Aherne. but I had rather he was not employed 
 in Ireland at first, for he is outre and extravagant in his notions; 
 he wants a total houleversement of all property; and he has not 
 talents to see the absurdity and mischief, not to say the impossi- 
 bility of this system, if system it may be called. I have a mind 
 to stop his promotion, and believe I must do it. It would be a 
 terrible doctrine to commence with in Ireland. I wish all possible 
 justice to be done to Aherne, but I do not wish to see him in a 
 station where he might do infinite mischief I must think of this. 
 I told Clarke I had written for my family, and was determined, at 
 all events, to settle in France. 
 
 June 25. — " I've now not fifty ducats in the world;" but, hang 
 it, that does not signify: am I not going to be an officer in the 
 French service? I believe I might have been a little more 
 economical, but I am sure not much. I brought with me one 
 hundred Louis to France, and they will have lasted me just six 
 months, by the time they are run out; after all, that is no great 
 extravagance. Besides, " a fool and his money are soon parted, ' 
 and poor Pat was never much noted for his discretion on that 
 point; and I am in some things as arrant an Irishman, as ever 
 stood on the Pont-neuf. I think I have made as good a defence 
 as the nature of the case will admit, and I leave it to all the world 
 whether I am not fairly excusable for any little dedommagement 
 which I can lay hold on, seeing the sacrifices I have made thus 
 far, the services which I hope I shall at last have rendered my 
 country, and especially the drear}^ and tristful solitude to which I 
 have devoted mvself in Paris, where I have not formed a single 
 connexion but with the persons indispensably necessary to the 
 success of our business. 
 
 June 28. — Called on Clarke by appointment. I told him I 
 had two things to mention: first, that as we had the Pope now in 
 our grasp, 1 wished him to consider whether we might not artfully 
 seduce him into writing to his legate, Dr Troy, in order to secure, 
 at least the neutrality, if not the support, of the Irish Catholic 
 
134 LIFE OP 
 
 clergy. He objected, ;.3 this would be recognizing the authority 
 of the Pope; and said he was sure the directory would make no 
 public application of this sort; besides, that it would be making 
 the matter known in Italy. I replied, that undoubtedly it was 
 not a matter for an official application, but for private address; 
 and as to making it known, it need not be applied for until the 
 last stage of the business: nevertheless, I merely threw it out as a 
 hint for his consideration, without pressing it, as I expected no 
 formidable opposition from the priests in Ireland. He gave nie 
 to understand that he had a communication open with Ireland, 
 and showed m^ a paper, asking me did I know the handwriting ? 
 I did not. He then read a good deal. It stated very brieti)', 
 that fourteen of the counties, including the entire north, were 
 completely organized for the purpose of throwing off the English 
 yoke and establishing our independence: that, in the remaining 
 eighteen, organization was advancing rapidly, and that it was so 
 arranged that the inferiors obeyed their leaders without examining 
 their orders, or even knowing who they were, as every one knew 
 only the person immediately above him. That the militia were 
 about 20,000 men, 17,000 of whom might be relied on; that there 
 were about 12,000 regular troops, WTctched bad ones, who would 
 soon be settled in case the business were attempted. Clarke was 
 going on, but stopped here suddenly, and said, laughing, " There 
 is something there which I cannot read to you, or you will guess." 
 I begged him to use his discretion without ceremony. He then 
 asked me, did I knov/ of this organization 1 I replied that I could 
 not, with truth, say positively I knew it, but that I had no manner 
 of doubt of it; that it was now twelve months exactly 3ince I left 
 Ireland, in which time, I was satisfied, much must have been done 
 in that country, and that he would find in my memorials that such 
 an organization was then begun, was rapidly spreading, and I had 
 no doubt would soon embrace the whole people. It is curious, 
 the coincidence between the paper he read me and those I have 
 given him, though, upon second thought, as truth is uniform, it 
 would be still more extraordinary if they should vary. I am 
 delighted beyond measure with the progress which has been made 
 in Ireland since my banishment. I see they are advancing rapidly 
 and safely; and, personally, nothing can be more agreeable to me 
 than this coincidence between what I have said and written and 
 the accounts which I see they receive here. The paper also stated, 
 as I had done, that we wanted arms, an.imunition, and artillery; 
 in short, it was as exact in all particulars, as if the same person 
 had written all. This ascertained my credit in France beyond a 
 doubt. 
 
THEOBALD WOLFE TONE. 135 
 
 July 6. — Saw Clarke this morning. He is almost recovered, 
 and tells me my business is delayed solely by the absence ol 
 General Hoche, who is coming up with all privacy to Piiris to 
 confer with the directory; that I must be introduced to him, and 
 communicate with him, and most probably return with him to the 
 army, where my presence would be necessary. All this is very 
 good. I shall be glad to be introduced to Hoche; it looks like 
 serious business. Clarke also told me he wanted to have my 
 commission expedited instantly by the minister of war, but that 
 Carnot had decided to wait for Hoche. I told him it was the 
 same to me, and also begged to know when he expected Hoche. 
 He replied, "Everyday," I then took occasion to mention the state 
 of my finances, that in two or three days I should be run out, and 
 relied upon him to prevent my falling into difficulties. He asked 
 me could I carry on the war some little time longer ? I answered 
 I could not, for that I did not know a soul in Paris but the 
 government. He seemed a little taken aback at this, by which I 
 see that money is not their forte at present. Damn it for me! 
 I am sure I wish there was not a guinea in the world. So here 
 I am, with exactly two Louis in my exchequer, negotiating with 
 the French government, and planning revolutions. I must say it 
 is truly original. 
 
 July 8. — Called on Clarke. He tells me my commission will 
 be made out in two or three days; I returned him my acknowledg- 
 ments. As soon as I receive it, must call on Carnot to thank him. 
 Fixed with Clarke to call on him regularly every other day. 
 Lazarus is not yet arrived, and be hanged. The moment he comes, 
 Clarke is to let me know. I am surprised at the sang froid with' 
 which I view this affair of my regiment, but it is my temper. 
 
 July 12. Battle of Aughrim. — As I was sitting in my cabinet, 
 
 studying my tactics, a person knocked at the door, who, on opening 
 
 it, proved to be a dragoon of the third regiment. He brought me 
 
 a note from Clarke, informing me that the person he mentioned 
 
 Was arrived, and desired to see me at one o'clock. I ran off directly 
 
 the Luxembourg, and was showed into Fleury's cabinet, where 
 . remained till three, when the door opened, and a very handsome, 
 well made young fellow, in a brown coat and nankeen pantaloons, 
 entered, and said, " Vous vous etes le citoyen Smith?" I thought 
 he was a chef de bureau, and replied, " Oui, citoyen, je mappele 
 Smith.''' He said, " Vous vous appelez, aussi,je avis, Wolfe ToneV 
 I replied, " Oui, citoyon, cest mon veritable nom." " Eh bie?i" 
 replied he, "jesuis le general Hoche." At these words I mentioned 
 that I had for a Ions: time been desirous of the honour I then 
 enjoyed, to find myself in his company; "into his arms I soon 
 
136 LIFE OF 
 
 did fly, and there embraced him tenderly." He then said he pre- 
 sumed I was the author of the memorandums which had been 
 transmitted to him. I said I was. Well, said he, there are one 
 or two points I want to consult you on. He then proceeded to 
 ask me, in case of the landing being effectuated, might he rely on 
 finding provisions, and particularly bread 1 I said it would be 
 impossible to make any arrangements in Ireland, previous to the 
 landing, because of the surveillance of the government, but if that 
 were once accomplished, there would be no want of provisions; 
 that Ireland abounded in cattle; and, as for bread, I saw by the 
 Gazette that there was not only no deficiency of corn, but that she 
 was able to supply England, in a great degree, during the late 
 alarming scarcity in that country; and I assured him that, if the 
 French were once in Ireland, he might rely that, whoever wanted 
 bread, they should not want it. He seemed satisfied with this, 
 and proceeded to ask me, might we count upon being able to form 
 a provisory government, either of the Catholic committee, mentioned 
 in my memorials, or of the chiefs of the defenders? I thought I 
 saw an opening here to come at the number of troops intended for 
 us, and replied, that that would depend on the force which might 
 be landed; if that force v/ere but trifling, I could not pretend to 
 say how they might act; but if it was considerable, I had no doubt 
 of their co-operation. "Undoubtedly," replied he, "men will not 
 sacrifice themselves when they do not see a reasonable prospect of 
 support; but, if I go, you may be sure I will go in sufficient force.'' 
 He then asked, did I think ten thousand men would decide them 1 I 
 answered, undoubtedly, but that early in the business the minister 
 had spoken to me of two thousand, and that I had replied that such 
 a number would eff'ect nothing. No, replied he, they would be over- 
 whelmed before any one could join them. I replied that I was 
 glad to hear him give that opinion, as it was precisely what I had 
 stated to the minister; and I repeated that, with the force he 
 mentioned, I could have no doubt of support and co-operation 
 sufficient to form a provisory government. He then asked me 
 what I thought of the priests, or was it likely they would give us 
 any trouble? I replied, I certainly did not calculate on their 
 assistance, but neither did I think they would be able to give us 
 any effectual opposition; that their influence over the minds of the 
 common people was exceedingly diminished of late, and I instanced 
 the case of the defenders, so often mentioned in my memorials and 
 in these memorandums. I explained all this at some length to 
 him, and concluded by saying, that, in prudence, we should avoid 
 as much as possible shocking their prejudices unnecessarily; and 
 that, with common discretion, I thou^jht we m^^ht secure their 
 
THEOBALD WOLFE TONE. 137 
 
 neutrality at least, if not their support. I mentioned this merely 
 as my opinion, but added that, in the contrary event, I was 
 satisfied it would be absolutely impossible for them to take the 
 people out of our hands. We then came to the army. He asked 
 me how I thought they would act? I replied, for the regulars I 
 could not pretend to say, but that they were wretched bad troops; for 
 the miiiti;), I hoped and believed that when we were once organized, 
 they would not only not oppose us, but come over to the cause of 
 their country en masse; nevertheless, I desired him to calculate on 
 their opposition, and make his arrangements accordingly; that it 
 was the safe policy, and if it became necessary, it was so much 
 gained. He said he would undoubtedly make his arrangements so 
 as to leave nothing to chance that could be guarded against; that 
 he would come in force, and bring great quantities of arms, am- 
 munition, stores, and artillery; and, for his own reputation, see 
 that all the arrangements were made on a proper scale. I was 
 very glad to hear him speak thus: it sets my mind at ease on 
 divers points. He then said there was one important point 
 remaining, on which he desired to be satisfied; and that was what 
 forui of government we would adopt in the event of our success? 
 I was going to answer him with great earnestness, when General 
 Clarke entered to request we would come to dinner with citizen 
 Carnot. We accordingly adjourned the conversation to the apart- 
 ment of the president, where we found Carnot and one or two 
 more. Hoche, after some time, took me aside and repeated his 
 question. I replied, " Most undoubtedly a republic." He asked 
 again, "Was I sure?" I said as sure as I could be of any thing; 
 that I knew nobody in Ireland who thought of any other system, 
 nor did I believe there v/as anybody who dreamt of monarchy. 
 He asked me, was there no danger of the Catholics setting up one 
 of their chiefs for king? I replied, "Not the smallest," and that 
 there were no chiefs amongst them of that kind of eminence. 
 This is the old business again, but I believe I satisfied Hoche; it 
 looks well to see him so anxious on that topic, on which he pressed 
 me more than on all the others. Carnot joined us here, with a 
 pocket-map of Ireland in his hand, and the conversation became 
 pretty general between Clarke, Hoche, and him, every one else 
 having left the room. I said scarcely anything, as I wished to 
 listen. Hoche related to Carnot the substance of what had passed 
 between him and me. When he mentioned his anxiety as to 
 bread, Carnot laughed, and said, " There is plenty of beef in 
 Ireland; if you cannot get bread you must eat beef." I told him 
 I hoped they would find enough of both; adding, that within the 
 last twenty years Ireland had become a great corn country, so that 
 
138 LIFE OF 
 
 at present it made a considerable article in her exports. They then 
 proceeded to confer, but I found it difficult to follow them, as it was in 
 fact a suite of former conversations, at which I had not assisted; and 
 besides, they spoke with the rapidity of Frenchmen. I collected, 
 however, if I am right, that there will be two landings, one from 
 Holland, near Belfast, and the other from Brittany, in Connaught; 
 that there will be, I suppose, in both embarkations, not less than 
 10, nor more than 15,000 men; 12,000 was also mentioned, but 
 I did not hear any time specified. Carnot said, "It will be, to be 
 sure, a most brilliant operation." And well may he say so, if he 
 succeeds. We then went to dinner, which was very well served, 
 without being luxurious. We had two courses, and a dessert. 
 There were present about sixteen or eighteen persons, Madame 
 Carnot, her sister and sister-in-law, Carnot, his brother, Hoche, 
 Truguet, the minister of marine, Clarke, two or three officers, and 
 Lagarde, the secretaire general. I sat by Hoche. After coffee 
 was served, we rose, and Carnot, Hoche, Truguet, Lacuee, and 
 Clarke, retired to a cabinet and held a council on Irish affairs, 
 which lasted from six to nine o'clock. In the meantime I walked 
 with Lagarde in the gardens of the Luxembourg, where we listened 
 to a symphony performed in the apartments of La Reveilliere 
 Lepaux, who is lodged over Carnot. Lagarde tells me that La 
 Eeveilliere has concerts contmually; and that music is his great 
 resource after the fatigues of his business, which are immense. At 
 nine the council broke up, and I walked away with Clarke; he 
 said every thing was now settled, and that he had himself much 
 trouble to bring everything to bear, but that at last he had 
 succeeded. I wished him joy most sincerely, and fixing to call 
 upon him to-morrow at twelve, we parted. — This was a grand day; 
 I dined with the president of the executive directory of France, 
 beyond all comparison the most illustrious station in Europe. I 
 am very proud of it, because it has come fairly in the line of my 
 duty, and I have made no unworthy sacrifices to obtain it. I like 
 Carnot extremely, and Hoche, I think, yet better. 
 
 July 16. — Saw Clarke. He tells me the arrete of the directory 
 for my commission will be signed to-day, and that he will write to 
 the minister at war to send back the brevet to him, so that I sliall 
 have it to-morrow at twelve o'clock. He tells me also that there 
 is a change in the arrangement. The cavalry of the cidevant legion 
 de police has been formed into a regiment of dragoons, the twenty- 
 first. The colonel had given the directory to understand there 
 were supernumeraries of men and horses enough i"o form a second 
 regiment, which was intended for me. It appeared, however, on 
 inspection, that the contrary is the fact, for the twenty-first is even 
 
THEOBALD WOLFE TONE. 139 
 
 ten men short of its compliment. In consequence, I am to serve 
 in the infantry, with the rank of chef de brigade, which answers to 
 that of colonel; and Clarke tells me the pay and rank are the same, 
 with less trouble. One must not look a gift-horse in the mouth; 
 so I said, of course I was perfectly satisfied, and we parted the best 
 friends in the world ; and I am to return to-morrow at twelve for 
 this weary brevet. 
 
 I forgot to mention, in its place, that Hoche has a famous cut of 
 a sabre down his forehead, eyebrow, and one side of his nose. He 
 was pretty near the enemy when he got that, and luckily, it does 
 not at all disfigure him. He is but two-and-thirty; Jourdan, five- 
 and-thirty; Buonaparte, twenty-nine ; Moreau, about thirty; and 
 Pichegru, who is the oldest of all, about six-and-thirty. The 
 French have no old generals in service : it is their policy to employ 
 young men, and the event has showed they are right. 
 
 July 17. — Called, as usual, on Clarke. My eternal brevet not 
 yet come from the war office, but he gave orders to Fleury to write 
 again to the minister to have it sent directly. He tells me Hoche 
 will leave town in two or three days, and that he will endeavour to 
 give me a corner in his carriage, if possible. I answered it would 
 be highly flattering to me to have the honour of travelling 
 with him; at the same time, I hoped he would give me a few days' 
 notice, as I had no clothes but habits bourgeois, etc. He said he 
 could not be sure to give me four-and-twenty hours' notice, and 
 as to regimentals, I could get them made up at quarters. I 
 replied, as to myself, I was ready at a moment, and the sooner the 
 better. He then desired me to call every day at twelve, and we 
 parted. So here I am, at single anchor, ready to cut and run. 
 As to money matters, I am extremely embarrassed; I have not a 
 guinea. I think I must write to Carnot, and demand a supply. 
 I am sure I have reason to expect that much from the French 
 government; at the same time, God knows whether I shall get it 
 or not, and at any rate, it is cursed disagreeable to be obliged to 
 make the application; but what can I do? Damn the money, for 
 me; I wish it was in the bottom of the sea. This embarrassment 
 is a drawback on the pleasure I should otherwise feel at the 
 promising appearance of our business. Sat down and wrote two 
 pages of a letter to my dearest life and love, informing her very 
 obscurely of my success here, and of my having obtained the rank 
 of chef de brigade; desiring her to sell off everything, and embark 
 in the first vessel for Havre de Grace. 
 
 July IS. — Eose er.rly this morningand wrote a threatening letter 
 to citizen Carnot, telling him, " If he did not put five pounds in a 
 sartin place, !!" It is written in French, and I have a copy. 
 
140 LIFE OP 
 
 God forgive me for calling it French, for I believe, properly speak- 
 ing, it is 'no language; however, he will understand that money is 
 the drift of it, and that is the main point. Called at twelve on 
 Clarke. At last he has got my brevet from the minister at war. 
 It is for the rank of chef de brigade, and bears date the 1st 
 Messidor (June 19th). It remains now to be signed by Carnot 
 and Lagarde, which will be done to-day; and to-morrow, at nine, 
 I am to pass muster. Clarke embraced me on giving me the 
 brevet, and saluted me as a brother officer; so did Fleury, and my 
 heart was so full I could hardly reply to either of them. I am as 
 proud as Punch. Clarke asked me, would we consent, in Ireland, 
 to let the French have a direct interference in our government? 
 adding, that it might be necessary, as it was actually in Holland, 
 where, if it were not for the continual superintendence of the 
 French, they would suffer their throats to be cut again by the 
 stadtholder. I answered that, undoubtedly, the French must have 
 a very great influence on the measures of our government, in case 
 we succeeded; but that I thought, if they were wise, they would 
 not expect any direct interference; adding, that the most effectual 
 way to have power with us, would be to appear not to desire it. 
 I added that, for that reason, I hoped whoever was sent in the 
 civil department would be a very sensible, cool man, because a 
 great deal would depend on his address. Clarke replied, " We 
 intend to send nobody but you." Thai stunned me a little. 
 What could he mean? Am I to begin by representing the French 
 republic in Ireland, instead of representing the Irish republic in 
 France? *' I am puzzled in mazes, and perplexed with errors." 
 I must have this explained in to-morrow's conversation. Clarke 
 then went on to say they had no security for what form of goypjn- 
 ment we might adopt in case of success. I replied, I had no 
 security to offer, but my decided opinion that we would establish 
 a republic. He objected that we might establish an aristocratic 
 , republic, like that of Genoa. I assured him the aristocracy of 
 Ireland were not such favourites with the people that we should 
 sjoill our blood to establish their power. He then said, '' Perhaps, 
 after all, we might choose a king; that there was no security against 
 that but information, and that the people of Ireland were in 
 general very ignorant." I asked him, in God's name, whom would 
 we choose, or where would we go look for a king? He said, 
 " May be the Duke of York." I assured him that he, or his aid- 
 de-camp, Fleury, who was present, had full as good, and indeed a 
 much better chance, than his royal highness; and I added, that 
 we neither loved the English people in general, nor his Majesty's 
 family in particular, so well as to choose one of them for our king, 
 
THEOBALD WOLFE TONE. 141 
 
 Buj^posing, what was not the case, that the superstition of royalty 
 yet hung about us. As to the ignorance of our peasantry, I 
 admitted it was in general too true; thanks to our execrable 
 government, whose policy it was to keep them in a state of bar- 
 barism; but I could answer for the information of the dissenters, 
 who were thoroughly enlightened and sincere republicans, and who, 
 I had no doubt, would direct the public sentiment in framing a 
 government. He then asked, was there nobody among ourselves 
 that had any chance, supposing the tide should set in favour of 
 monarchy'^ I replied, " Not one." He asked, " Would the Duke 
 of Lcinster, for example?" I replied, "No: that every body 
 loveJ and liked the duke, because he was a good man, and always 
 resided and spent his fortune in Ireland; but that he by no means 
 possessed that kind of character or talents which might elevate 
 him to that station." He then asked me again, " Could I think 
 of nobody?" I replied, "I could not; that Lord Moira was the 
 only person I could recollect who might have had the least chance, 
 but that he had blown his reputation to pieces by accepting a 
 command against France; and, after him, there was nobody." 
 " Well," said Clarke, " may be you, after all, will choose one of 
 your own leaders; who knows but it may be yourself V^ I replied, 
 we had no leaders of a rank or description likely to arrive at that 
 degree of eminence; and as to myself, I neither had the desire nor 
 the talents to aspire so high. Well, that is enough of royalty for 
 the present. We then, for the hundredth time, beat over ihQ old 
 ground about the priests, without, however, starting any fresh 
 ideas; and I summed up all by telling him that, as to religion, my 
 belief was, we should content ourselves with pulling down the 
 establishment, without setting up any other; that we would have 
 no state religion, but let every sect pay their own clergy voluntarily; 
 and that as to royalty and aristocracy, they were both odious in 
 Ireland to that degree, that I apprehended much more a general 
 massacre of the gentry, and a distribution of the entire of their 
 property, than the establishment of any form of government that 
 would perpetuate their influence; that I hoped this massacre would 
 not happen, and that I, for one, would do all that lay in my power 
 to prevent it, because I did not like to spill the blood, even of the 
 guilty; at the same time, that the pride, cruelty, and oppression 
 of the Irish aristocracy were so great, that I apprehended every 
 excess from the just resentment of the people. Tiie conversation 
 ended here. Clarke gave me Huche's addre.is, and desired me to 
 call on Fleury to-morrow at nine, and that he would introduce me 
 at the war-oflice, where I must pass review. 
 
 July 20. — Called at Clarke's and saw Fleury, who ga?e me my 
 
142 LIFE OF 
 
 brevet, signed by Carnot; and so now I am, to all intents and 
 purposes, chef de brigade in the service of the republic. Fieury 
 is to bring nie to-morrow at nine to the commissaire ordonnateiir, 
 to pass review, and thence to the treasury, to receive a month's 
 pay; so, Vogue la galere I 
 
 July 23. — Called on Hoche at seven, and found him in bed, 
 talking with two generals whom I did not know. One is going to 
 Italy, very much against the grain. General Sherlock called in. 
 I collect from what he said, that he is to be of our expedition, and 
 that he does not know it himself yet. After they were gone, 
 Hoche asked me, "When I would be ready to le.uve town?" I 
 answered, I was at his orders, but wished, if possible, to have four 
 or five days to make some little arrangements. He said, by all 
 means; that he proposed leaving town in seven days himself, and 
 that, if he could, he would give me a seat in his carriage; but it' 
 not, he would settle that I should travel with General Cherin, his 
 most particular friend, who was to have a command in the business; 
 but to whom, as yet, he had not opened himself on the same 
 subject. I made my acknowledgments, and asked him, at the 
 same time, whether my appearance at head-quarters might not 
 give rise to some suspicions, from the circumstance of my being a 
 foreigner? He replied, he would settle me in a village near 
 Eennes, his head-quarters, where I should be incognito, and at the 
 same time within his reach. I asked him then, was he apprized 
 of the directory having honoured me with the rank of chef de 
 brigade? He replied he was, and made me his compliment. I 
 then observed to him, I presumed I should be of most service in 
 some situation near his person; that I spoke French, as he might 
 ob.^erve, very imperfectly; nevertheless, I could make myself 
 understood; and as he did not speak English, I might be useful in 
 his communications with the people of Ireland. He replied, 
 "Leave all that to me; as soon as you join, and that your regiment 
 is formed, I will apply for the rank of adjutant- general for you; 
 that will place you at once in the etat-major; and besides, you 
 must be in a situation where you may have a command if 
 necessary," I returned him a thousand thanks, and he proceeded 
 to ask me, " Did I think it was likely that the men of property, 
 or any of them, wished for a revolution in Ireland?" I replied, 
 " Most certainly not," and that he should reckon on all the 
 opposition that class could give him; that, however, it was 
 possible, that when the business was once commenced, some of 
 them might join us on speculation; but that it would be sorely 
 against their real sentiments. He then asked me, " Did I know 
 Arthur O'Connor?" I replied, I did, and that I entertained the 
 
THEOBALD WOLFE TONE. 143 
 
 Lfghesfc opinion of his talents, principles, and patriotism. He 
 asked me, " Did he not some time ago make an explosion in the 
 Irish Parliament?" I replied, he made the ablest and honestcst 
 speech, to my mind, that ever was made in the House. *' Well," 
 said he, ."will he join us?" I answered, I hoped, as he wa; 
 ''^ foncierement Jrlandais," that he undoubtedly would. So it 
 seems O'Connor's speech is well known here. If ever I meet hiip, 
 as I hope I may, I will tell him what Hoche said, and the charactei 
 that he bears in France. It must be highly gratifying to his 
 feelings. Hoche then went on to say, " There is a lord in your 
 country (I was a little surprised at this begin-ning, knowing, as I 
 do, what stuff our Irish peers are made of), he is son to a duke ; 
 is he not a patriot?" I immediately smoked my lover, Lord 
 Edward Fitzgerald, and gave Hoche a very good account of him. 
 He asked me then about the duke. I replied that I hoped for 
 his assistance, or at least neutrality, if the business w^ere once 
 commenced. He then mentioned Fitzgibbon, of all men in the 
 world. I endeavoured to do him justice, as I had to the others 
 he spoke of, and I believe I satisfied Hoche that we will not meet 
 with prodigious assistance from his Majesty's Lord High Chancellor 
 of Ireland. He then asked me, " What quantity of arms would 
 be necessary?" I replied, the more the better, as we would find 
 soldiers for as many firelocks as France would send us. He then 
 told me he had demanded 80,000, but was sure of 50,000. We tlieu 
 spoke of tho aristocracy of Ireland; and I assured him, as I had 
 done Clarke, that vvhat I apprehended w^as, not the aggrandizement, 
 but the massacre of that body, from the just indignation of the 
 people, whom they have so long and so cruelly oppressed; adding, 
 that it was what I sincerely deprecated, but what I feared was too 
 likely to happen. He said, certainly the spilling of blood was at 
 all times to be avoided as much as possible; that ho did conceive, 
 in such explosions as that which was likely to take place in Ireland, 
 it was not to be supposed but that some individuals w'ould be 
 sacrificed, but tlie less the better; and it was much wiser to secure 
 •the persons of those I mentioned, or to suffer them to emigrate to 
 England; as they would no doubt be ready to do, than to put 
 them to death; in which I most sincerely agreed; for I am like 
 parson Adams, " I do not desire to have the blood even of the 
 wicked upon me." Hoche mentioned also that great mischief had 
 been done to the principles of liberty, and additional difficulties 
 thrown in the way of the French Hevolution, by the quantity of 
 blood spilled, "for," added he, " when you guillotine a man, you 
 get rid of an individual, it is true, but then you make all his friends 
 Ciid connexions enemies for ever to the government." A sentence 
 
144 LIFE OP 
 
 well worth considering. I am heartily glad to find Hoche of tliia 
 humane temperament, because I hope I am humane myself; and 
 trust we shall be able to prevent unnecessary bloodshed in Ireland, 
 which I shall, most sincerely, exert my best endeavours to do. At 
 twelve I went and saw Clarke, and took him up on our conversa- 
 tion of the 18th, relative to a direct interference on the part of 
 France. I said if he meant by that to admit a representative of 
 the republic into any part of our government, it was what France 
 ought not to expect, nor we to grant. That France would certainly 
 have a great influence; but the surest way to keep it would be not 
 to assume it. That what he said of Holland did not apply to us. 
 The French had conquered Holland, and had a right, if they 
 pleased, to throw it into the sea; but it was not so with Ireland. 
 We rather resembled the situation of America in the last war. 
 Clarke seemed satisfied with all this, and I proceeded to ask him, 
 had they thought of a person to reside near the future Irish 
 government 1 He said General Hoche would be there. I replied, 
 he would be moving about, but I meant a sort o^ charge d'affaires, 
 who should be stationary. Clarke replied, undoubtedly a proper 
 person would be sent. I said, I hoped the French government 
 would be very delicate in their choice, and send a man of great 
 temper and discretion, as much would depend on his conduct. I 
 then observed, that Clarke had often asked me what security 
 Ireland would give that, if her independence was once established, 
 she might not forget her obligations to France, and perhaps here- 
 after be found leagued with her enemies. To which I offered him, 
 as the only security, our honour as gentlemen. Now I begged 
 leave, in return, to ask him what security he had to give us, that 
 if England offered to renounce every thing provided J'rance would 
 sacrifice us, France would not accept the offer 1 He answered in 
 my own words, *'Our honour as gentlemen!" and assured me, in 
 the strongest manner, France would be, as I believe myself, 
 incapable of such conduct. 
 
 July 25. — Pturming about all this morning on trade affairs 
 Damn it ! Saw Clarke. He tells me I am to travel with Hoche 
 and that we set off the 30th — in five days. Huzza ! 
 
 July 27. — Clarke tells me this morning that the directory have 
 ordered me three months' pay. That is, ^^tant de irris sur 
 Veiinemi;" but I am forced to borrow «£50 from Monroe, which 
 grieves me sorely, for it is breaking in still more on the sacred 
 funds of my little family; it is, however, unavoidable, and so 
 *' what can't be cured must," etc. I cannot go down to quarters 
 without some money in my pocket. 
 
 Jvh Sit — ■deceived my pay, "and all are as drunk as so paany 
 
I 
 
 THEOBA.LD WOLFE TONE. 145 
 
 swabbers." I insist upon it, that is a very good quotation, from 
 Rigdum Funnidos. 
 
 August 1. — Called on Clarke from mere idleness; did not see 
 him; but, coming out, met General Hoche, who took me in his carriage 
 to General Cherin, with whom I am to travel. I was introduced 
 by Hoche; and I remember now he is one of the generals with 
 whom I dined at Carnot's. After a short conversation, in which 
 it was fixed that we set off from the 7th to the 10th, I took my 
 leave, Hoche and Cherin desiring me to call on thein in the mean 
 time without the ceremony of sending up my name, which is civil 
 of them. So, now I4iave " les petites entrees^ 
 
 August 7, 8. — Saw Hoche and Cherin together this morning. 
 Both very civil and no news. Hoche, I believe, sets off the 11th. 
 
 August 11, 12, IS. — Saw Cherin this morning; he tells me it 
 may be ten days before we get off Hell! hell! hell! How shall 
 I get over these eternal delays? Hoche set off yesterday. 
 
 August 21, 22, 23. — Met Cherin to-day driving about in his 
 cabriolet; he stopped me and asked me was I ready to set off? I 
 answered, "In five minutes, and that I only waited for his orders." 
 He then desired me to call on him to-morrow at eleven, in order 
 to settle about our departure; so, perhaps, we may set off before 
 the 30th. 
 
 September 13, Uf, 15. — At last I have brought Cherin to the 
 point; he has received a courier last night from General Hoche, 
 and tells me now T may set off with the first courier, or wait a few 
 days for him ; but I am tired waiting. I wrote, therefore, by his 
 direction, a note to the minister of war, praying an order to depart, 
 with the first courier, for Rennes, and he has promised to get it 
 for me by to-morrow. Huzza! 
 
 September 17. — Took leave of Madgett, Aherne, and Sullivan; 
 wrote two letters of acknowledgment to Carnot and De la Croix, 
 thanking them for their kindness, etc. At three o'clock in the 
 afternoon left Paris. It is now exactly seven months and five days 
 since I arrived there — a very important era in my life : whether it 
 was for good or evil to my country and to myself, the event must 
 determine; but I can safely say I have acted all through to the 
 very best of my conscience and judgment; and I think I have not 
 conducted myself ill. I certainly did not expect on my arrival to 
 have succeeded as well as I have done; and 1 have been under some 
 difficulties at times, having not a soul to advise or communicate 
 with. I have now done with Paris, at least for some time, and 
 God knows whether I shall ever revisit it; but, at all events, [ 
 shall ever look back on the time I spent there with the greatest 
 satisfaction. I believe there is no part of my conduct that I need 
 
146 LIFE OP 
 
 wish to rccallj at least with regard to business. As to pleasure of 
 amusement, I had very little. I formed, and endeavoured to form, 
 no connexions. I visited and was visited by nobody, French or 
 foreigner; and left Paris, after seven months' residence, without 
 being acquainted with a single family. That is singular enough. 
 The theatres formed my grand resource against the monotony of 
 my situation ; but, on the whole, I passed my time dull enough. 
 Well, if ever I return, I will make myself amends. I am now 
 like the Turkish spy, " who passed forty-five years at Paris v/ithout 
 being known or suspected." I dare sny Mr Pitt knew I was there, 
 as close as I kept; if he did, it w^as by no f^ult or indiscretion of 
 mine. It is singular enough that having passed my time in a 
 manner so monotonous, and not leaving behind me a single person 
 whom, on the score of personal regard, I had reason to regret, I 
 yet quit Paris with something like reluctance. But I made that 
 remark before. Allans I I am now afloat again: let us see what 
 will come of this voyage. 
 
 DURING THE PERIOD THAT GENERAL TONE WAS ATTACHED TO 
 
 THE ARMY CF THE WEST. 
 
 September W. — At three this morning arrived at Eennes, having 
 j^asscd three nights agreeably without sleep. Went to bed, and 
 slept like a dragon till eleven. Rose, and sent for my adjoint, 
 MacSheehy, who has been here for some days. He tells me all is 
 going on, as he believes, prosperously. 
 
 September 23. — At work all the morning with Colonel Shee, 
 making an analysis of the distribution of the troops actually in 
 Ireland. The general called in, and sat with us half an hour. 
 Dined as usual with the 6tat-major. I am now, to all intents, one 
 of the fiimily, and I like it of all things. (Sings.) ''How merrily 
 we live that soldiers be," etc. I have got rooms at head quarters, 
 and moved my kit accordingly. We are all lodged in the palace 
 of the cidevant bishop of Rennes, a superb mansion, but not much 
 the better for the Revolution. 
 
 September ^4. — Walked with Colonel Shee in the garden. He 
 tells me that Hoche has selected the 61ite of the Army of the 
 Oce;:n, which consisted of 117,000 men, for our expedition; that 
 the arms and everything were ready, and that we were waiting 
 only for the marine. He ako spoke as if in a fortnight or more 
 we might put ourselves in motion; but I did not press him for 
 specific information. The season is slipping away fast through 
 our fingers. However, 1 believe tlicy are doing their best. 
 
 September 25. — Walked, as usual, in the garden with Colonel 
 
THEOBALD WOLFE TONE. 147 
 
 Shee. I turned the discourse upon my own situation, and that 
 which I had filled in Ireland. Shee told me that both the executive 
 directory and General Hoche were perfectly satisfied as to who 
 and what I was, through a channel which he was not at liberty 
 to inform me of, but that I might be perfectly easy on the score 
 of my credit. I collect from Shee's discourse, that we will have 
 1000 cavalry ready to mount, but the Irish must find horses. I 
 do not yet know the number of our infantry. 
 
 September 26. — The General set otf this morning for Brest. I 
 hope in God he may hurry those fellows. I dread the equinoctial 
 gales passing over and finding us unprepared. By Shee's discourse 
 I fancy it is intended that we shall make a race for it. Happy go 
 lucky in that case. I was in hopes the Spanish fleet would have 
 joined us at Brest; but he tells me they are returned to Cadiz, 
 after escorting Richery to soiue unknown latitude. — Damn their 
 foolish souls, they will be beaten, and the French also, in detail; 
 whereas, if they were instantly to join, their united fleets in the 
 channel would be stronger than any thing England could for some 
 time oppose to them, and a week would be sufficient for our 
 business. If they let this occasion escape them, as I fear they will, 
 they need never expect to meet such another. 
 
 October 4-i 5- — I fiiid great amusement in chatting with Colonel 
 Shee, who is a very agreeable old man, and has served as a good 
 officer of cavalry now thirty-six years. He told me last night, as 
 I was sitting with him, that General Clarke had written to him 
 that he might have full confidence in me ; nevertheless, he does 
 not tell me much, if indeed he knows much himself; that, however, 
 gives me very little concern. I shall learn everything time enough. 
 I collect, however, that it is resolved, if possible, to turn in a gang 
 of six or seven thousand desperadoes into England who will live 
 at free quarters, and commit all manner of devastation. If this 
 takes effect, it will embarrass her extremely. She has never yet 
 seen the smoke of an enemy's fire; and I always remember that 
 5000 ragged, half-starved Hiiihlanders forced their way to 100 
 miles distance of London ; and might, perhaps, have achieved what 
 remained, if the Pretender had not been a poltroon. It is, to be 
 sure, a horrible mode of making war, but England showed the 
 way, by disgorging so many hordes of emigiants into France; and 
 the enormities which have been committed in consequence in this 
 country, are such as to justify France i'i adopting any means of 
 revenge; it is, in a word, but strict retaliation. 
 
 October 0, 10, 11, 12. — The General returned last night at eight 
 o'clock, having been absent since the 26th of last month. Colonel 
 Shee saw him this morning, for a quarter of an hour; he tells me 
 
148 LIFE OP 
 
 Hocbe is bent on going, cofUe qui coUte, and that every thing is 
 ready but seamen, whom he has given orders to press along the 
 coast as far as Bordeaux. I see an article in a French paper, that 
 thirty persons have been arrested in Dublin for high treason. 
 Who can they be ? Are any of my friends of the number ? for 
 there are no names mentioned. I hope in God we shall be in 
 Ireland time enough to liberate them, be they who they may. I 
 think General Hoche will be pretty security for their appearance; 
 and I fancy that even my own bail would not, in this case, be 
 refused. Colonel Shee and I have been reading over the American 
 ordonnance, and making our observations on it. If we arrive 
 safe, I will propose adopting it, with a few necessary alterations. 
 It is excellent, for an army that must be made in a hurry, being 
 clear and concise. 
 
 October 13, I4. — The General set off, unexpectedly, for Paris, 
 this day at twelve o'clock. It seems, on his visit to Brest, he had 
 reason to be discontented with the administration of the marine; 
 however, they promised him fair, and he returned to Bennes, 
 leaving orders with a confidential person to let him know how they 
 were going on. This person has written him word, that since his 
 departure all the preparations are slackened; and, iti consequence, 
 he is set off in a rage for Paris; and I trust will return in a few 
 days with full power to cashier a parcel of those scoundrelly agents 
 of the marine. I have written, by Colonel Shee's desire, a short 
 address to thj peasantry of Ireland, explaining to them the great 
 benefits the Bevolution has procured to the peasantry of France. 
 This he has translated into French, and gave the copy to the 
 General to read on his way to Paris. 
 
 Ociobe?' 15, 16. — The General returned, unexpectedly, this 
 mornins: at nine o'clock. It seems he met a courier on the road 
 with despatches, which rendered his trip to Paris unnecessar3\ 
 Colonel Shee tells me to-day that it was intended, after landing 
 us, to despatch the fleet with three thousand men to the East 
 Indies; but, in consequence of a mutiny at the Mauritius, that 
 scheme is given up, and we are to keep both ships and men. I 
 mentioned to him a report I had heard, that we were waiting for 
 cannoniers from the army of Sambre et Muse, which I thought 
 very odd if it were true; he assured me it was no such thing; we 
 have already three companies of cannoniers; and, in short, every 
 thing is ready except the seamen; to procure whom the most 
 positive and pressing orders have been given by the minister of 
 marine and directory. 
 
 October 17. — Our expedition, as well as the life of the General, 
 has had a most providential escape. Last night, between nine and 
 
THEOBALD WOLFE TONE. 149 
 
 ten, as he was returning from the comedie with General Debelle 
 and Hedouville, a ruffian, who was posted at a corner, fired a 
 pistol at him, within five or six yards, which fortunately missed, 
 and the villain instantly ran off, but was stopped by two of the 
 aids-de-camp, who happened to come that way, before he had run 
 one hundred yards. The pistol was likewise found where he had 
 dropt it. On his being seized and examined, he confessed that he 
 was hired by a person, whom he described, to assassinate General 
 Hoche, and was to have fifty Louis for his reward. He threw 
 himself on his knees before Hoche, who behaved incomparably 
 well, and desired hira to rise, as no man should kneel to him, and 
 tell the whole truth, assuring him that he had not himself the 
 least resentment against hira. The fellow then repeated his story 
 exactly, and the two aids-de-camp set out with a guard in quest of 
 the other villain, whom they found in bed, and brought to head- 
 quarters. A magistrate being sent for, the two were confronted, 
 and the latter denying everything, they were both, after a long 
 examination, committed to prison. It seems the fellow who fired 
 the shot is a workman employed in the arsenal; the other is lately 
 from Paris, and says he is a horse-dealer. In order to induce the 
 former to commit the murder, he told him that he was a royalist, 
 and that it was for the king's service to assassinate Hoche ; which, 
 together with the promise of the fifty Louis, determined him. 
 The name of the former is Moreau, and of the latter Tevssierd. 
 Nothino; could be better than the General's behaviour throufrh all 
 this affair. For my part, I do not see what the royalists could 
 promise themselves from his death; at the same time it is beyond 
 all doubt that this villain, Teyssierd, has came down from Paris 
 expressly to have him assassinated. I do not at all suspect the 
 English of assassination; but certainly, at this moment, they are 
 much more interested in Hoche's death than that miserable Louis 
 XVIII. In short, I know not Avhat to think of the motives of 
 this abominable affair; a few days may probably explain it further. 
 October 18. — In consequence of the affair of yesterday, a search 
 was made in the lodgings of Teyssierd, and a case of pistols, two 
 fusils, and three air guns, were found; the two last articles buried 
 in the garden. There were also among his papers the directions 
 of several persons in Paris and London. I should be sorry, much 
 as I detest the English nation, to suspect them of such vile and 
 horrible means of efi'ectuating their purposes as that of assassina- 
 tion; yet they have already done several things in this war as bad, 
 at Quiberon, and elsewhere. I am very much afraid the English 
 cabinet is implicated in this infernal business; the more so as the 
 general received notice a few days since, from the minister of 
 
150 LIFE OF 
 
 justice at Paris, to be on his guard, as an attempt was intended to 
 be made on his life by some English agents. Hoche is entirely 
 too careless of his person; which, as he is circumstanced, though 
 it may be very magnanimous, is not very wise. He was out till 
 past ten o'clock last night. The General has no confidence in the 
 marine; but is determined, if we fall in with the English fleet, 
 that fight they shall; for, as the military will be at least two to 
 one on board, he will give it out in general orders, that the first 
 man, officer or seaman, of whatever rank, that offers to flinch, shall 
 be instantly shot on the quarter deck. That is stout of Hoche, or 
 as P. P. Vv'ould say, " manly and decided." I had rather, however, 
 that our valour was tried on terra firma, for I am of opinion with 
 the Turks, " That God has given the sea to the infidels and the 
 land to the true believers." A sea fight is our pis ailer; neverthe- 
 less, if it must be, it must. 
 
 October 19. — Since my arrival here I have not had the least 
 communication with the General; we have scarcely ever spoken at 
 meals when we met, and I began in consequence to grow a little 
 uneasy at it; for as there are two Irishmen here, M'Sheehy and 
 Duckett, besides myself, and as the first is a blockhead and the 
 last a scoundrel, 1 did not exactly know whether the general 
 might not lump us all off together in forming his opinion. I 
 therefore hinted remotely to Colonel Shee, yesterday, my uneasi- 
 ness at the great reserve of the general towards me; and in conse- 
 quence of what I said, which was indeed but very little, he 
 spoke to him of it at dinner. The General assured him that he by 
 no means confounded me with the two others; but observed, which 
 is the fact, that if he was to mark me by any particular attention, 
 it would be immediately observed, and set people on making 
 inquiries, which would be very inconvenient, as it was absolutely 
 necessary that I should remain incognito as much as possible; he 
 added that, in time and place, I should see how he wished to 
 treat me. This has satisfied me entirely. 
 
 October W, — This day received my orders to set out for Brest 
 the day after to-morrow, being the 1st Bruniaire. Huzza! huzza! 
 I am to travel in General Debelle's carriage, with Hoche's cousin, 
 and Privat, his aid-de-camp. Settled all my aflPairs at Renncs 
 instantly, and hove short. I am ready at a minute's warning. I 
 have been hard at work to-day on my pamphlet, which is scurrilous 
 enough. Colonel Shee translates it as I go on, for the inspection 
 of the general, and I like it better in his French than in my own 
 English. I think it will do tolerably well when it is finished. 
 
 October 21. — Last night I met the general in the gallery alone. 
 lie immediately came up to me and asked me, had I occasion for 
 

 THEOBALD WOLFE TONE. 151 
 
 any thing before my departure ? I thanked him, and replied, I 
 had not. He then continued, "Because, if you have, I desire you 
 will apply to me, as to your friend, without any reserve." I again 
 thanked him, and said, that if I was under any necessity, I would 
 avuil myself of his permission, but that at present I was not. He 
 then said, " I am not a man to make professions, but I beg you 
 will, on ail occasions, look upon me as your friend, and treat me 
 accordingly." I thanked him for the third time, and so we shook 
 hands and parted. It was very civil of him, and I desired Colonel 
 Shee to let him know again how sensible I was of his kindness. 
 
 October 22. — Set out from Rennes, on my way to Brest, with 
 Privat and Marie Hoche. Travelled very agreeably through a 
 beautiful country covered with wood, the very seat of Chouannerie. 
 
 BREST. 
 
 November 1, 2.- — I have been hard at work, ever since my arrival, 
 on an address to the Irish people, which is to be printed here and 
 distributed on our landing. I have hardly time to eat, but I do 
 not work with pleasure from the reflection which occurs to me 
 every instant, that the men whose approbation I could most covet, 
 are, perhaps, at this moment on trial for their lives. Well, let me, 
 if possible, not think of that longer. I have not yet seen the 
 General. Colonel Shee tells me that General Quantin has been 
 despatched from Flashing with 2000 of the greatest reprobates in 
 the French army, to land in England, and do as much mischief 
 as possible; and that we have 3000 of the same stamp, whom we 
 are also to disgorge on the English coast. It is a horrible mode of 
 making war, and such as nothing can possibly justify but the manner 
 in which England has persecuted the republic. Much as I detest 
 the inhumanity of punishing the inhabitants of a country for the 
 crime of their rulers, I cannot blame the French when I recollect 
 the treachery of England at Toulon; or the miseries which 
 she has caused in that part of the republic through which I 
 have just passed, on her false assignats and counterfeit Louis; 
 but, especially, op. her most atrocious and unheard of system 
 of starving the whole French people; a measure so abominable, 
 und which produced such dreadful suflering and misery iu France, 
 as justifies any measures of retaliation, however terrible. The 
 English ambassador is arrived at Paris; Spain has, at length, 
 declared war against England, and begun, it is said, by taking 
 a man of war of bQ guns. Damn them! why are they not to-day 
 in Brest waters? Corsica is evacuated by the British; so all 
 goes on pretty well. 
 
 November 10, — Saw the Legion Noire reviewed; about 1,000 
 
152 LIFE OP 
 
 men. They are the banditti intended for England, and sad black- 
 guards they are. They put me strongly in mind of the Green- 
 boys of Dublin. 
 
 November 13. — Went, by order of the general, among the 
 prisoners of war at Pontanezen, near Brest, and offered their 
 liberty to as many as were willing to serve aboard the French 
 fleet. Sixty accepted the offer, of whom fifty were Irish. I 
 made them drink heartily before they left the prison, and they 
 were mustered and sent aboard the same evenincr. I never saw 
 the national character stronger marked than in the careless gaiety 
 of those poor fellows. Half naked and half starved as I found 
 them, the moment that they saw the wine before them, all their 
 cares were forgotten; the Englishmen balanced, and several of 
 them asked, in the true style of their count; y, "What would I 
 give them ?" It is but justice to others of them to observe, that 
 they said nothing should ever tempt them to fight against their 
 king and country. I told them they were perfectly at liberty to 
 make their choice, as I put no constraint on any man. In the 
 event, of about 100 English, ten men and boys offered themselves, 
 and of about sixty Irish, fifty, as I have observed; not one 
 Scotchman, though there were several in the prison. When I 
 called for the wine, my English recruits begged for something to 
 eat at the same time, which I ordered for them. Poor Pat never 
 thought of eating; but when his head w^as a little warm with the 
 wine, he was very urgent to be permitted to go amongst the 
 Englishmen, and flog those who refused to enter, v/hich, of 
 course, I prevented, though with some little difficulty. *' Arrah, 
 blood an' ounds, captain, dear, w^on't you let me have one knock 
 at the blackguards?" I thought myself on Ormond quay once 
 more. Oh, if we once arrive safe on the other side, what soldiers 
 we will make of our poor fellows ! They all said they hoped I 
 was going with them, wherever it was. I answered, that I did 
 not desire one man to go where I was not ready to show the way, 
 and they replied with three cheers. It is to be observed, that I 
 never mentioned the object of the expedition; they entered the 
 service merely from the adventurous spirit of the nation, and their 
 hatred of the English, without any idea that they had a chance 
 of seeing Ireland again. 
 
 November 23. — I cannot imagine what delays us now, unless it 
 be waiting for Richery, who is said to be coming up from 'Roche- 
 furt. Though I have the strongest apprehensions we shall be 
 intercepted by the English, still I wish we were at sea. There 
 is nothing so terrible to me as suspense; and besides, the lives of 
 my poor friends in Ireland are in extreme peril. God send wo 
 
THEOBALD ^VOLFE TONE. 153 
 
 i 
 
 may be in time to save them, but I much fear it. Well, let me 
 not think of that. If we fall in with the English, we must fight 
 them at close quarters, and crowd our tops, poops, and quarter- 
 deck with musketry. It is our only chance, but against superior 
 numbers that will not do. Those infernal Spaniards! They will 
 pay dear for their folly; but what satisfaction is that to us ? I 
 was thinking last night of my poor little family till I was as 
 melancholy as a cat. God knows whether we shall ever meet 
 again. If I reach Ireland in safety, and any thing befalls me 
 after, I have not the least doubt but that my country will take 
 care of them, and my boys will find a father in every good 
 Irishman ; but if I should happen to be killed at sea, 
 and the expedition should not succeed, I dread to think 
 on what may become of them. It is terrible ! I rely on 
 the goodness of Providence, which has often interposed to 
 save us, on the courage and prudence of my wife, and on the 
 friendship of my brother to protect them. j\Iy darling babies! I 
 doat on them. I feel the tears gush into my eyes whenever I 
 think on them. I repeat to myself a thousand times the last 
 words I heard from their innocent little mouths. God Almighty 
 bless and protect them. I must leave this subject. I have taken 
 a little boy, whom I found among the prisoners of war, as my 
 servant. He is so young that he will not be of much use to me; 
 but he was an orphan, and half-naked. He was born in Dorset- 
 shire, and his father was an Irish quarter-master of dragoons. He 
 is a natural son. I have rigged him out handsomely; and if he 
 brushes my coat and takes care of my portmanteau, with the 
 baggage, it is all I require. His name is William White. 
 
 Novemler 24, 25. — I have been hard at work half this day 
 translating orders and instructions for a Colonel Tate, an American 
 officer, who offered his services, and to whom the general has given 
 the rank of chef de brigade, and 1050 men of the Legion Noire, 
 in order to go on a buccaneering party into England. Excepting 
 some little errors in the locality, which, after all, may seem errors 
 to me from my own ignorance, the instructions are incomparably 
 well drawn; they are done, or at least corrected, by the general 
 himself; and if Tate be a dashing fellow, with military talents, he 
 may play the devil in England before he is caught. His object is 
 Liverpool; and I have some reason to think that the scheme has 
 resulted from a conversation which I had a few days since with 
 Colonel Shee; wherein I told him, that if we were once settled in 
 Ireland, I thought we might make a piratical visit in that quarter; 
 and, in fact, I wish it was we that should have the credit and 
 profit of it. I should like, for example, to pay a visit to Liverpool 
 
154 LIFE OF 
 
 myself, with some of tlie gentlemen from Ormond Quay; thougli 
 I must say, the citizens of the Legion Noire are very little behind 
 my countrymen, either in appearance or morality; which last has 
 been prodigiously cultivated by three or four campaigns in Bretagne 
 and La Vendee. A thousand of these desperadoes, in their black 
 jackets, will edify John Bull exceedingly, if they get safe into 
 Lancashire. 
 
 November 26. — To-day, by the general's orders, I have made a 
 fair copy of Colonel Tate's instructions, with some alterations, 
 from the rough draft of yesterday, particularly with regard to his 
 first destination, which is now fixed to be Bristol. If he arrives 
 safe, it will be very possible to carry it by a coup-de-main, in 
 which case he is to burn it to the ground. I cannot but observe 
 here, tliat I transcribed with the greatest sang froid the orders to 
 reduce to ashes the third city in the British dominions, in which 
 there is,' perhaps, j^roperty to the amount of £5,000,000. But 
 such a thing is v;ar! The British burned without mercy in 
 America; they endeavoured to starve 25,000,000 of souls in 
 France; and, above all, they are keeping, at this moment, my 
 country in slavery, my friends in prison, and myself in exile. It 
 is these considerations which steel me against horrors which I 
 should otherwise shudder to think of. Yet I cannot but remark, 
 what misery the execution of the orders which I have transcribed, 
 and assisted in framing, may produce; and how quietly Colonel 
 Shee and myself sat by the fire discussing how we might do the 
 greatest possible mischief to the unfortunate wretches on whom 
 our plans are intended to operate. Well, they may thank them- 
 selves; they are accomplices with their execrable government, which 
 has shown us the way in all those direful extremities; and there 
 is not a man of them but would willingly exterminate both the 
 French and Irish. Yet once again ! The conflagration of 
 such a city as Bristol ! It is no slight affair; thousands and 
 thousands of families, if the attempt succeeds, will be reduced to 
 beggary. I cannot help it. If it must be, it must; and I will 
 never blame the French for any degree of misery which they may 
 inflict on the people of England. I do not think my morality 
 or feeling is much improved by my promotion to the rank of 
 adjutant-general. The truth is, I hate the very name of England; 
 I hated her before my exile, I hate her since, and I will hate her 
 always. 
 
 November 30. — To-day Colonel Shee, who has been alarmed 
 with some symptoms of the gout, to which he is a martyr, resolved 
 to go on board the Fraternite, whilst he is yet able to move about. 
 He is near sixty, and with a broken constitution, as may v/ell be 
 
THEOBALD WOLFE TONE. 155 
 
 supposed after thirty-six years' service, yet he is as bold and eager 
 ill the business as if he were but five-and-twenty. I went aboard 
 with him, and dined with the Admiral, Morad de Galles, who has 
 succeeded Yillaret Joyeuse, and two other Admirals, Bouvet and 
 Bruix. When I was about to leave him, I took him aside for an 
 instant, and told hiin that, as we embarked on different vessels, I 
 might perhaps not have another occasion to speak to him, and 
 therefore availed myself of this to observe, that as it was likely we 
 might fall in with the English, and of course have an action, I had 
 to entreat him, in case any thing should happen to me, and that 
 he got safe to Ireland, to exert himself in behalf of my family, by 
 making such a report of my services as he thought just, and as 
 they merited. He assured me in case of any accident, I might 
 rely upon his zeal and friendship; and he requested, at the same 
 time, that if a similar circumstance befel him, I would render his 
 family the same service; which I assured him, with great truth 
 and sincerity, I would not fail to do; and so we parted. I have 
 a sincere regard for him, and the very best opinion both of his 
 zeal and talents. 
 
 BANTRY BAY EXPEDITION — ON BOARD. 
 
 December 1, 2. — Received my order to embark on bo;ird the 
 Indomptable of SO guns, Captain Bedout. Packed up directly, and 
 wrote a long letter of directions to my wife, in which I detailed 
 everything I thought necessary; and advised her, in case of any 
 thing happening me, to return to America, and settle in Georgia 
 or Carolina. 
 
 December 3, 4- — As it is now pretty certain that the English 
 are in force off Ushant k> the number of sixteen ships of the line 
 and ten frigates, it seems hardly possible that w^e can make our 
 way to Ireland without falling in with them ; and, as even the 
 most successful action must be attended with damages in our 
 masts and rigging; so that, even if victorious, which I do not 
 expect, we may yet be prevented from proceeding on the exi^edition, 
 considering the stormy season of the year. I have been devising 
 a scheme, which, I think, in the present state of things in Ireland, 
 can hardly fail of success. It is this : That three, or, at most, 
 four sail of the fastest going ships should take advantage of the 
 first favourable moment, as a dark night and a strong gale from 
 the north-east, and slip out with as many troops as they can carry, 
 including at least a company of the artillerie legere, and steering 
 such a course as, though somewhat longer, should be most out of 
 the way of the English fleet; that they should proceed round the 
 coast of Ireland, keeping a good offing for fear of accidents, and 
 
15^ tIPE OB* 
 
 land the men in the north as near Belfast as possible. If we could 
 land 2000 men in this manner, with as many stand of arms as we 
 could carry beside, I have no doubt but in a week v.'e would have 
 possession of the entire north of Ireland, and we would certainly 
 maintain ourselves there for a considerable time against all the force 
 which could be sent against us; the consequence of which would 
 be, 1st, that the whole south would be disfurnished of troops, 
 which would, of course, be sent against us; and I also am almost 
 certain that the British fleet would directly quit its station off 
 Brest, where they have been now cruizing ten weeks, according 
 to our accounts, as thinking that the mischief was already done, 
 and that they were watching the stable when the steed was 
 stolen; in which case, the main embarkation might immediately 
 set off, and, landing in the south, put the enemy between two 
 fires, and so settle the business almost without a blow. If this 
 scheme be adopted, it is absolutely necessary that no mortal 
 should hear of it but Morard de Galles, Hoche, and Colonel Shee. 
 December 5, 6, 7, 8. — The uniformity of my life, at anchor in 
 the road of Brest, does not furnish much matter for observation. 
 I saw Mr Shee yesterday, vi'ho is still in bed with the gout. He 
 tells me that he spoke of my plan to the general, who said at once 
 it was impossible, and that he durst not take on himself the 
 responsibility it would induce. His reasons are good. First, if 
 our little squadron fell in with the enemy, we must, to a moral 
 certainty, be taken. Next, if we got even clear, and that the 
 remainder of the squadron fell in with the enemy and was beaten, 
 which would most probably be the case, the whole fault would be 
 laid on him, as having weakened the main force by the detachment; 
 and, lastly, that from the state of our preparations, being victualled 
 and furnished but for a short period, we must speedily sail, coute 
 qui coute; so that the advantage I proposed in drawing off the 
 English fleet would be useless, as we could not afford to wait the 
 time necessary to suffer that circumstance to operate. This last 
 is the best of his reasons; but I remain firmly of opinion that my 
 scheme is, under all the circumstances, infinitely the best. How- 
 ever, it is decided otherwise, and I must submit. Our force is of 
 fifteen sail of the line, ten frigates, and seven or eight transports; 
 that makes upwards of thirty sail, a force which can never escape 
 the vigilance of the English, unless there should come a furious 
 storm for two or three days, without remission, which would blow 
 them up the channel. 
 
 December 9, 10, 11. — Went ashore yesterday to take my leave 
 of Brest. Four of our frigates stood out of the Gulet that 
 evening; so there are, at least, symptoms of movement. This 
 
THEOBALD WOLFE TONE. 157 
 
 morning went on board the Fraternite to see Couinel Sliee, and, to 
 my infinite satisfaction, saw Richery in the offing, standing in for 
 the road, where he anchored safely in an hour after. He brings 
 with him five ships of the line and two frigates, of which we shall 
 have three of the line, and the crews of the two others, which aro 
 foul. It is a reinforcement of the most infinite consequence to us, 
 and, perhaps, may enable us to force our way out at last. I am 
 astonished how Eiehery, with his squadron, has been able to elude 
 the vigilance of the English ; he must be an excellent officer, and, 
 I presume, we shall have him, of course, with us. The general 
 comes aboard to-day, and it is not impossible, if the weather is 
 favourable, but we may sail to-night. God send ! whatever may 
 be the event, for I am tired of this suspen.se. 
 
 December 12. — The etat-major came aboard last night; we are 
 seven in the great cabin, including a lady in boy's clothes, the 
 wife of a commissaire, one llagoneau. By what I see we have a 
 little army of commissaries, who are going to Irehmd to maiie 
 their fortunes. If we arrive safe, I think I will keep my eyu a 
 little upon these gentlemen. In consequence of the arrival of 
 Eichcry, our squadron will be augmented with two if not three 
 ships, and the army with 1700 men, which; with 13,1:00 already 
 on board, will make 15,100 — a force more than sufficient for 
 our purpose; if, as I am always obliged to add, we have the good 
 fortune to reach our destination in safety. 
 
 Decembf-r 15. — At 11 o'clock this morning the signal was made 
 to heave short; and I believe we are now going to sail in down- 
 right earnest. There is a signal also at the point for four sail of 
 enemies in the offing. It is most delicious weather, and the sun 
 is as warm and as bright as in the month of May. " I hope," as 
 Lord George Brilliant says, " he may not shine through somebody 
 presently.'* We are all in high spirits, and the troops are as gay 
 as if they were going to a ball. With our 15,000, or more 
 correctly 13,975 men, I would not have the least doubt of our 
 beating 30,000 of such as will be opposed to us; that is to say, if 
 we reach our destination. The signal is now flying to get under 
 way: so, one way or other, the affiiir will be at last brought to a 
 decision, and God knows how sincerely I rejoice at it. 
 
 December 17. — Last night passed through the Raz, a most 
 dano-erous and difficult pass, wherein we were within an inch of 
 running on a sunken rock, where we must every soul have 
 inevitably perished. I knew nothing about it, for my part, till 
 this morning, and I am glad of it. Captain Bedout told me he 
 had rather stand three such engagements as that wherein he waa 
 taken, than pass again through the Raz at night, so it seems the 
 
168 LIFE OP 
 
 affair was serious; if we Tiad struck, we should have gone to pieces 
 in a quarter of an hour, as the tide runs furiously at the rate of 
 not less than 10 knots an hour. Ours is the first squadron that 
 has passed through the Raz, which even single ships avoid, unless 
 in case of necessity. TJiis morning, to my infinite mortification 
 and anxiety, we were but eighteen sail in company, instead of 
 forty-three, which is our number. We conjecture, however, that 
 the remaining twenty-five have made their way through the Yroise, 
 and that we shall see them to-morrow morning; at the same time, 
 we much fear that some of our companions have perished in that 
 infernal Raz. We have nothing for it now but to wait till to- 
 morrow. {At night.) This day has passed without any event; 
 the weather moderate, the wind favourable, and our eighteen sail 
 pretty well together. Two of the admirals and the General are 
 with the absent; God send they may have escaped the Raz. 
 Rear-Admiral Bouvet and General Grouchy, second in command, 
 are with us. I believe there is a rendezvous fixed in case of 
 separation, so to-morrow we shall see. We run on an average 
 five or six knots an hour, course W.N.W. 
 
 December 18. — At nine this morning, a fog so thick that we 
 cannot see a ship's length before us. " Hazy weather, master 
 Noah;" damn it, we may be, for aught I know, within a quarter 
 of a mile of our missing ships, without knowing it; it is true we 
 may also, by the same means, miss the English, so it may be as 
 well for good as evil, and I count firmly upon the fortune of the 
 republic. How, after all, if we were not to join our companions? 
 What will Grouchy and Bouvet determine'? YIe are enough to 
 make the attempt, but we must then steer for the North of 
 Ireland. If it rested with me I would not hesitate a moment; 
 and, as it is, I will certainly propose it, if I can find an opening. 
 
 " If we are doomed to die, we are enough 
 To do our country loss; and if to rise, 
 Tlie fewer men, the greater share of honour." 
 
 This damned fog continues without interruption. {At nigld.) 
 Foggy all day, and no appearance of our comrades. I asked 
 Genend Cherin what we should do, in case they did not rejoin us? 
 He said that he supposed General Grouchy would take the 
 command with the troops we had with us, which, on examination, 
 we found to amount to about G,500 men. I need not say that I 
 supported this idea with all my might. 
 
 December' 10. — This morning, at eight, signal of a fleet in the 
 ofiSng; Branlebas General; rose rlirectly and made my toilet, so 
 now I am ready, ou i^oiu- les AnglaisCj ou pour les Anglaises. I 
 
THEOBALD WOLFE TONE. ]jO 
 
 see about a dozen sail, but whether they are friends or enemies 
 God knows. It is a stark cahn, so that we do not move an inch 
 even with our studding sails; but here we lie rolling like so many 
 logs on the winter. It is most inconceivably provoking; two 
 frigates that were ordered to reconnoitre have not advanced one 
 hundred yards in an hour, wiih all their canvas out; it is now 
 nine o'clock; damn it to hell for a calm, and in the middle of 
 December. Well, it cannot last long. If this fleet prove to be 
 our comrades, it will be famous news; if it be the English, let them 
 come, we will do our best, and I think the Indoniptable will not 
 be the worst fought ship in the squadron. This calm ! this calm ! 
 it is most terribly vexatious. At half-pa?t ten we floated near 
 enough to recognize the signals, and, to my infinite satisfaction, the 
 strange fleet proves to be our comrades, so now nous en sommes 
 quittes pour la peur, as the French say; counted sixteen sail, 
 including the Admiral's frigate, so the General is safe. The wind, 
 which favoured us thus far, is chopped about, and is now right in 
 our teeth; that is provoking enough. If we have a fair wind we 
 should be in Bantry Bay to-morrow morning. At half-past one 
 hailed by a lugger, which informed us of the loss of the Seduisant, 
 a .seventy-four of our squadron, the first night of our departure, 
 with five hundred and fifty men of the ninety-fourth demibrigade, 
 of whom she saved thirty-three. It happened near the same spot 
 where we were in such imminent danger. I was mistaken above 
 in saying that the Fraternite was with the squadron which joined 
 us; it is in Admiral Nielly's frigate, and we know nothing of the 
 other, which has thrown us all in the greatest anxiety. Admiral 
 Morard de Galles, General Hoche, General Debelle, and Colonel 
 Shee, are aboard the Fraternite, and God knows what has become 
 of them. The wind, too, continues against us; and, altogether, I 
 am in terrible low spirits. How if these damned English should 
 catch us at last, after having gone on successfully thus far. Our 
 force leaving Brest water, was as follows: — Indomptable, 80 guns; 
 Nestor, Cassard, Droits de i'Homme, Tourville, Eole, Fougeux, 
 Lucius, Eedoubtable, Patriote, Pluton, Constitution, Tr.ijan, 
 Watigny, Pegaze, Revolution, and the unfortunate Seduisant, of 
 74 guns (seventeen sail of the line); La Cocarde, Bravoure, 
 Immortality, Bellone, Coquille, Romaine, Sirene, Impatiente, 
 Surveillante, Charente, Resolue, Tartare, and Fraternite, frigates 
 of 36 guns; (thirteen frigates); Scevola and Fiddle amies en 
 flutes, Mutine, Renard, Atalante, Voltigeur, and AtTronteur, 
 corvettes; and Nicodeme, Justine, Ville d'Orient, SufPren, Experi- 
 ment, and Alegre, transports; making, in all, forty-three sail. 
 Of these 'there are missing, this day, at three o'clock, the Nestor 
 
IGO LIFE OF 
 
 and Seduisant, of 74; the Fraternite, Cocarde, and Romaine frigates; 
 the Mutine and Voltigeur, corvettes; and three other transports 
 
 D<cemher 21. — Last night, jast at sunset, signal for seven sail 
 in the offing; all iti high spirits, in hopes that it is our comrades; 
 stark calm all the fore part of the night; at length a breeze sprung 
 up, and this morning, at day-break, we are under Cape Clear, 
 distant about four leagues, so I h;ive, at all events, once more 
 seen my country; but the pleasure I should otherwise feel at this 
 is totally destroyed by the absence of the general, who has not 
 joined us, and of whom we know nothing. The sails we saw last 
 night have disappeared, and we are all in uncertainty. It is most 
 delicious weather, with a favourable wind, and every thing, in 
 short, that we 'can desire, except our absent comrades. At the 
 moment I write this V7e are under easy sail, within three leagues, 
 at most, of the coast, so that I can discover here and there 
 patches of snow on the mountains. What if the general should 
 not join us. If we cruise here five days, according to our instruc- 
 tions, the English will be upon us, and then all is over. We are 
 thirty-five sail in company, and seven or eight absent. Is that 
 such a separation of our force, as under all the circumstances, will 
 warrant our following the letter of our orders, to the certain 
 failure of the expedition? If Grouchy and Bouvet be men of 
 spirit and decision, they will land immediately, and trust to their 
 success for justification. If they be not, and if this day passes 
 without our seeing the general, I much fear the game is up. 
 
 December 22. — This morning, at eight, we have neared Bantry 
 Bay considerably, but the fleet is terribly scattered; no news of 
 the Fraternite; I believe it is the first instance of an admiral in a 
 clean frigate, with moderate weather, and moonlight nights, 
 parting company with his fleet. Captain Grammont, our first 
 Lieutenant, told me his opinion is that she is either taken or lost; 
 and, in either event, it is a terrible blow to us. All rests now 
 upon Grouchy, and I hope he may turn out well; he has a glorious 
 game in his hands, if he has spirit and talent to play it. If he 
 succeeds, it will immortalize him. I do not at all like the 
 countenance of the etat-major in this crisis. When they speak 
 of the expedition, it is in a style of despondency; and when they 
 were not speaking of it, they are playing cards and laughing; 
 they are every one of them brave of their persons; but I see 
 nothing of that spirit of enterprise, combined with a steady 
 resolution, which our present situation demands. They stared at 
 me this morning when I said that Grouchy was the man in the 
 whole army who had least reason to regret the absence of the 
 ijeneral; and began to talk of responsibility and difficulties, as if 
 
THEOBALD WOLFE TONE. 161 
 
 any great enterprise was without responsibility and difficulties. 
 I was burning with rage; however, I said nothing, and will say 
 nothing until I get ashore, if ever I am so happy as to arrive 
 there. We are gaining the bay by slow degrees, with a head 
 wind at east, where it has hung these five weeks. To-night we 
 hope, if nothing extraordinary happens, to cast anchor in the 
 mouth of the bay, and work up to-morrow morning; these delays 
 are dreadful to my impatience. I aui now so near the shore that 
 I can see distinctly two old castles, yet I am utterly uncertain 
 whether I shall ever set foot on it. According to appearances, 
 Bouvet and Grouchy are resolved to proceed. 
 
 Decemher 23. — Last night it blew a heavy gale from the east- 
 ward v.'ith snow, so that the mcmntains are covered this mornimr. 
 which will render our bivouacs extremely amusing. It is to be 
 observed, that of the thirty-two points of the compass, the east is 
 precisely the most unfavourable to us. In consequence, we are 
 this morning separated for the fourth time; sixteen sail, including 
 nine or ten of the line, with Bouvet and Grouchy, are at anchor 
 with us, and about twenty are blown to sea; luckily the gale set 
 from the shore, so I am in hopes no mischief will ensue. The 
 wind is still high, and, as usual, right a-head; and I dread a visit 
 from the English; and altogether I am in great uneasiness. Oh! 
 that we were once ashore, let what might ensue after; I am sick 
 to the very soul of this suspense. It is curious to see how things 
 are managed in this best of all possible worlds. We are here, 
 sixteen sail, great and small, scattered up and down in a noble 
 bay, and so dispersed that there are not two together in any s[)ot, 
 save one, and there they are now so close, that if it blows to-night 
 as it did last night, they will inevitably run foul of each other, 
 unless one of them prefers driving on shore. We lie in this 
 disorder, expecting a visit from the English every hour, without 
 taking a single step for our defence; even to the common one of 
 of having a frigate in the harbour's mouth, to give us notice of 
 their approach: to judge by appearances, we have less to dread 
 here than in Brest water, for when we were there, we had four 
 corvettes stationed off the goulef, besides the signal posts. I 
 confess this degree of security passes my comprehension. The 
 day has passed without the appearance of one vessel, friend or 
 enemy, the wind rather more moderate, but still a-head. To-night, 
 on examining the returns with Waudre, chef d'6tat-major of the 
 artillery, I find our means so reduced by the absence of the 
 missing, that I think it hardly possible to make an attempt here, 
 with any prospect of success; in consequence, I took Cherin into 
 
 the captain's room, and told him frankly my opinion of our actual 
 
 F 
 
162 LIFE OP 
 
 state; and thoiiglit it our duty, since we must look upon the main 
 object as unattainable, unless the whole of our friends returned 
 to-morrow, and the English gave us our own time, which wag 
 hardly to be expected, to see what could be best done for tho 
 honour and interest of the republic, with the force which remained 
 in our hands; and I proposed to him to give me tho legion des 
 Francs, a company of the artillerie leg^re, and as many officers as 
 desired to come volunteers in the expedition, with what arms and 
 stores remained, which are now reduced, by our separation, to 
 four field pieces, 20,000 firelocks at most, 1000 lb. of powder, 
 and 3,000,000 cartridges, and to land us in Sligo Bay, and let us 
 make the best of our way; if we succeeded, the republic would 
 gain infinitely in reputation and interest; and if we failed, the 
 loss would be trifling, as the expense was already incurred, and as 
 for the legion, he knew what kind of desperadoes it was composed 
 of, and for what purpose; consequently, in the worst event, the 
 republic would be well rid of them; finally, I added, that though 
 I asked the command, it was on the supposition that none of the 
 generals would risk their reputation on such a desperate enterprise; 
 and that if another was found, I would be content to go as a 
 simple volunteer. This was the outline of my proposal, which I 
 pressed on him with such arguments as occurred to me; con- 
 cluding by observing that, as a foreigner in the French service, 
 my situation was a delicate one, and if I were simply an officer, I 
 would obey in silence the orders of my superiors; but, from my 
 connexions in Ireland, having obtained the confidence of the 
 directory, so far as to induce them to appoint me to the rank of 
 chef de brigade, and of General Hoche, who had nominated me 
 adjutant-general, I thought it my duty, both to France and 
 Ireland, to speak on this occasion; and that I only offered my 
 plan as a pis aller, in case nothing better suggested itself. Cherin 
 answered that I did very right to give my opinion; and that as 
 he expected a council of war would be called to-morrow, he would 
 bring me with him, and I should have an opportunity to press it. 
 Decemher 2Ji. — This morning the whole 6tat-major has been 
 miraculously converted, and it was agreed, in full council, that 
 General Cherin, Colonel Waudre, chef d'6tat-major of the artillery, 
 and myself, should go aboard the Immortality, and press General 
 Grouchy in the strongest manner to proceed on the expedition 
 with the ruins of our scattered army. Accordingly, we made a 
 signal to speak with the admiral, and in about an hour we were 
 aboard. 1 must do Grouchy the justice to say, that the moment 
 we gave our opinion in favour of proceeding, he took his part 
 decidedly, and like a man of spirit; he instantly set about pre- 
 
THEOBALD WOLFE TONE. 163 
 
 paring tlie ordre de hataille, and we finished it witliout delay. 
 We are not more than 6,500 strong, but they are tried soldiers 
 who have seen fire, and I have the strongest hopes that, after all, 
 we shall bring our enterprise to a glorious termination. It is a 
 bold attempt, and truly original. All the time we were preparing 
 the ordre de bataille, we were laughing most immoderately at the 
 poverty of our means; and I believe, under the circumstances, 
 it was the merriest council of war that was ever held; but, " Des 
 chevaliers Frangais tel est le caractere.'^ Grouchy, the commander- 
 in-chief, never had so few men under his order since he was 
 adjutant-general; Waudr6, who is lieutenant-colonel, finds himself 
 now at the head of the artillery, which is a furious park, consisting 
 of one piece of eight, one of four, and two six inch howitzers; 
 when he was a captain, he never commanded fewer than ten 
 pieces, but now that he is in fact general of the artillery, he 
 prefers taking the field with four. He is a gallant fellow, and 
 oflfered, on my proposal last night, to remain with me and 
 command his company, in case General Grouchy had agreed to 
 the proposal I made to Cherin. It is altogether an enterprise 
 truly unique, we have not one guinea; we have not a tent; we 
 have not a horse to draw our four pieces of artillery; the general- 
 in-chief marches on foot; we leave all our baggage behind us; we 
 have nothing but the arms in our hands, the clothes on our backs, 
 and a good courage, but that is suflficient. With all these original 
 circumstances, such as I believe never were found united in an 
 expedition of such magnitude as that we are about to attempt, 
 we are all as gay as larks. I never saw the French character 
 better exemplified than in this morning's business. Well, at last 
 I believe we are about to disembark^ God knows how I long for 
 it. My enemy, the wind, seems just now, at eight o'ch)ck, to 
 relent a little, so we may reach Bantry by to-morrow. The 
 enemy has now had four days to recover from his panic, and 
 prepare to receive us; so much the worse, but I do not mind it. 
 We purpose to make a race for Cork, as if the devil were in our 
 bodies; and when we arc there we will stop for a day or two to 
 take breath, and look about us. From Bantry to Cork is about 
 forty-five miles, which, with all our efforts, will take us three 
 days, and I suppose we may have a brush by the way; but I 
 think we are able to deal with any force that can, at a week's 
 notice, be brought against us. We are not the best dressed body 
 of men in Europe. I think I have seen a captain of the guards 
 in St. Jauies's Park who would burn for as much as one of our 
 demi-brigades. Well, I have worked hard to-day, not to speak 
 of my boating party aboard the admii-al, against wind and tide, 
 
1G4 LIFE OF 
 
 and in a rongli sea. I have written and copied fifteeh letters, 
 besides these memorandums; pretty well for one day. I think I 
 will stop here. I have but one observation to add: there is not, 
 I will venture to say, one grenadier in the compagnie bloom that 
 will not sleep to-night in his hammock more contentedly than the 
 archbishop of Dublin, in a down bed. I presume our arrival has 
 put several respectable characters in no small fuss. 
 
 December 25. — Last night I had the strongest expectations that 
 to-day we should debark, but at two this morning I was awakened 
 by the wind. I rose immediately, and wrapping myself in my 
 great coat, walked for an hour in the gallery, devoured by the 
 most gloomy reflections. The wind continues right a-head, so 
 that it is absolutely impossible to work up to the landing place, 
 and God knows when it will change. The same wind is exactly 
 favourable to bring the English upon as, and these cruel delays 
 give the enemy time to assemble his entire force in this neigh- 
 bourhood; and perhaps (it is, unfortunately, more than perhaps), 
 by his superiority in numbers, in cavalry, in artillery, in money, 
 in provisions, in short, in every thing we want, to crush us, 
 supposing we are even able to effectuate a landing at last; at the 
 same time that the fleet will be caught as in a trap. Had we 
 been able to land the first day and march directly to Cork, we 
 should have infallibly carried it by a coup de main; and then we 
 should have a footing in the country, but as it is — if we are 
 taken, my fate will not be a mild one; the best I can expect is to 
 be shot as an emigre renire, unless I have the good fortune to be 
 killed in the action; for most assuredly if the enemy will have us, 
 he must fight for us. Perhaps I may be reserved for a trial, for 
 the sake of striking terror into others, in which case I shall be 
 hanged as a traitor and embowelled, etc. As to the embowelling, 
 *■'■ je men Jiche,'^ if ever they hang me, they are welcome to 
 embowel me if they please. These are pleasant prospects! 
 Nothing on earth could sustain me now, but the consciousness 
 that I am engaged in a just and righteous cause. For my family, 
 I have, by a desperate effort, surmounted my natural feelings so 
 ffir, that I do not think of them at this moment. This day, at 
 twelve, the wind blows a gale, still from the east; and our situa- 
 tion is now as critical as possible, for it is morally certain that 
 this day or to-morrow, in the morning, the English fleet will be 
 in the harbour's mouth, and then adieu to every thing. In this 
 desperate state of affairs, I proposed to Cherin to sally out with 
 all our forces, to mount to the Shannon, and disembarking the 
 troops, make a forced march to Limerick, which is pj«t>bably 
 unguarded; the garrison being, I am pretty certain, on its march 
 
THEOBALD WOLFE TONE. 165 
 
 to Oppose us here; to pass tLe river at Limerick, and by forced 
 marches, push to the north. I detailed all this on a paper which 
 I will keep, and showed it to C;iptain Bedout and all the generala 
 on board; Cberin, Simon, and Chasseloup. They all agreed as 
 to the advantages of the plan; but after settling it, we find it 
 impossible to communicate with the general and admiral, who arc 
 in the Immortality, nearly two leagues a-head, and the wind is 
 now so high and foul, and the sea so rough, that no boat can live, 
 so all communication is impracticable, and to-morrow morning it 
 will most probably be too late; and on this circumstance perhaps 
 the fate of the expedition and the liberty of Ireland depend. 
 
 December 26. — Last night, at half after six o'clock, in a heavy 
 gale of wind still from the east, we were surprised by the admiral's 
 frigate running under our quarter, and hailing the Indomptable, 
 with orders to cut our cable and put to sea instantly, the frigate 
 then pursued her course, leaving us all in the utmost astonish- 
 ment. Our first idea was that it might be an English frigate 
 lurking in the bottom of the bay, which took advantage of the 
 storm and darkness of the night to make her escape, and wished 
 to separate our squadron by this stratagem; for it seems utterly 
 incredible that -an admiral should cut and run in this manner, 
 without any previous signal of any kind to warn the fleet; and 
 that the first notice we should have of his intention, should be 
 his hailing us in this extraordinary manner, with such unexpected 
 and peremptory orders. After a short consultation with his 
 officers, (considering the storm, the darkness of the night, that 
 we have two anchors out, and only one spare one in the hold), 
 Captain Bedout resolved to wait, at all events, till to-morrow 
 morning, in order to ascertain whether it was really the admiral 
 who hailed us. The morning is now come, the gale continues, 
 and the fog is so thick that we cannot see a ship's length a-head; 
 so here we lie in the utmost uncertainty and anxiety. In all 
 probability we are now left without admiral or general; if so, 
 Cherin \\\\\ command the troops, and Bedout the fleet, but, at all 
 events, there is an end of the expedition. Certainly we have 
 been persecuted by a strange fatality from the very night of our 
 departure to this hour. We have lost two commanders-in-chief; 
 of four admirals not one remains; we have lost one ship of the 
 line that we know of, and probably many others of which we know 
 nothing; we have been now six days in Bantry Bay, within five 
 hundred yards of the shore, without being able to effectuate a 
 landing; we have been dispersed four times in four days; and at 
 this moment, of forty-three sail, of which the expedition consisted, 
 we can muster of all sizes but fourteen. There only wants our 
 
166 LIFE OP 
 
 falling in with the English to complete our destruction; and to 
 judge of the future by the past, there is every probability that 
 that will not be wanting. All our hopes are now reduced to get 
 back in safety to Brest, and I believe we will set sail fur that 
 port the instant the weather will permit. I confess, myself, I 
 now look on the expedition as impracticable. The enemy has 
 had seven days to prepare for us, and three, or perhaps four days 
 more before we could arrive at Cork; and we are now too much 
 reduced, in all respects, to make the attempt with any prospect 
 of success — so all is over! It is hard, after having forced my 
 way thus far, to be obliged to turn back; but it is my fate, and I 
 must submit. Notwithstanding all our blunders, it is the dreadful 
 stormy weather and easterly winds, which have been blowing 
 furiously and without intermission, since we made Bantry Bay, 
 that have ruined us. Well, England has not had such an escape 
 since the Spanish Armada; and that expedition, like ours, was 
 defeated by the weather; the elements fight against us, and 
 courage is of no avail. Well, let me think no more about it; it 
 is lost, and let it go! I am now a Frenchman and must regulate 
 my future plans accordingly. I hope the directory will not 
 dismiss me the service for this unhappy failure; in which, 
 certainly, I have nothing personally to reproach myself with; and 
 in that case, I shall be rich enough to live as a peasant. If God 
 Almighty sends me my dearest love and darling babies in safety, 
 ] will buy or rent a little spot, and have done with the world for 
 ever. I shall neither be great, nor famous, nor powerful, but I 
 n^ay be happy. God knows whether I shall ever reach France 
 myself, and in that case, what will become of my family? It is 
 horrible to me to think of. Oh! my life and soul, my darling 
 babies, shall I ever see you again? This infernal wind continues 
 without intermission^ and now that all is lost, I am as eager to 
 get back to France as I was to come to Ireland. 
 
 December 27. — Yesterday several vessels, including the Indomp- 
 table, dragged their anchors several times, and it was with great 
 difficulty they rode out the gale. At two o'clock, the Bevolution, 
 a seventy-four, made signal that she could hold no longer, and in 
 consequence of the commodore's permission, who now commands 
 our little squadron, cut her only cable and put to sea. In the 
 night, the Patriote and Pluton, of seventy-four each, were forced 
 to put to sea with the Nicomede flute, so that this morning we 
 are reduced to seven sail of the line and one frigate. Any 
 attempt here is now desperate; but I think still, if we were 
 debarked at the mouth of the Shainion, we might yet recover all. 
 At tea o'clock the commodore made signal to get under way, 
 
THEOBALD WOLFE TONE. 167 
 
 which was dela3'ed by one of the ships, wliich required an hour 
 to get ready. This hour we availed ourselves of to hohl a council 
 of war, at which were present, Generals Cherin, and Ilarty, and 
 Humbert, who came from their ships for that purpose; Adjutant- 
 Generals Simon, Chasseloup, and myself ; Lieutenant-Colonel 
 Waudr6, commanding the artillery, and Favory, captain of 
 engineers, together with Commodore Bcdout, who was invited to 
 assist; General Harty, as senior officer, being president. It was 
 agreed that our force being now reduced to 4,168 men, our 
 artillery to two four pounders, our ammunition to 1,500,000 
 cartridges and 500 rounds for the artillery, with 500 pounds of 
 powder — this part of the country being utterly wild and savage, 
 furnishing neither provisions nor horses, and especially as the 
 enemy, having seven days' notice, together with three more which 
 it would require to rea.ch Cork, supposing we even met with no 
 obstacle, had time more than sufficient to assemble his forces in 
 numbers sufficient to crush our little army; considering, moreover, 
 that this province is the only one of the four which has testified 
 no disposition to revolt; that it is the most remote from the party 
 which is ready for insurrection; and, finally. Captain Bedous 
 having communicated his instructions, which are, to mount as 
 high as the Shannon, and cruize there five days; it was unani- 
 mously agreed to quit Bantry Bay directly, and proceed for the 
 mouth of the Shannon, in hopes to rejoin some of our scattered 
 companions; and when we are there we will determine, according 
 to the means in our hands, what part we shall take. I am the 
 more content with this determination, as it is substantially the 
 same with the paper which I read to General Cherin, and the 
 rest, the day before yesterday. The wind, at last, has come 
 round to the southward, and the signal is now flying to get under 
 way. At half after four, there being every appearance of a stormy 
 night, three vessels cut their cables and put to sea. The In- 
 domptable, having with great difficulty weighed one anchor, we 
 were forced, at length, to cut the cable of the other, and make the 
 best of our way out of the bay, being followed by the whole of 
 our little squadron, now reduced to ten sail, of which seven are of 
 the line, one frigate, and two corvettes or luggers. 
 
 December 28. — Last night it blew a perfect hurricane. At one 
 this morning a dreadful sea took the ship in the quarter, stove in 
 the quarter gallery, and one of the dead-lights in the great cabin, 
 which was instantly filled with water to the depth of three feet. 
 The cots of the offi.cers were almost all torn down, and themselves 
 and their trunks floated about the cabin. For my part, I had 
 just fallen asleep when awakeued by the shock, of which I at first 
 
168 LIFE OF THEOBALD WOLFE TONE. 
 
 did not comprehend the meaning; but hearing the water distinctly 
 rollinor in the cabin beneath me, and two or three of the officers 
 mounting in their shirts as wet as if they had risen from the 
 bottom of the sea, I concluded instantly that the ship had struck 
 and was filling with water, and that she would sink directly. As 
 the movements of the mind are as quick as lightning in such 
 perilous moments, it is impossible to describe the infinity of ideas 
 which shot across my mind in an instant. As I knew all notion 
 of saving my life was in vain, in such a stormy sea, I took my 
 part instantly, and lay down in my hammock, expecting every 
 instant to go to the bottom; but I was soon relieved by the 
 appearance of one of the officers, Baudin, who explained to us the 
 accident. I can safely say that I had perfect command of myself 
 during the few terrible minutes which I passed in this situation; 
 and I was not, I belic\., more afraid than any of those about me. 
 I resigned myself to my fate, which I verily thought was inevit- 
 able, and I could have died like a man. Immediately after this 
 blow, the wind abated, and at day-light, having run nine knots an 
 hour under one jib only, during the hurricane, we found ourselves 
 at the rendezvous, having parted company with three ships of the 
 line and the frigate, which makes our sixth separation. The frigate 
 Coquille joined us in the course of the day, which we spent standing 
 off and on the shore, without being joined by our companions. 
 
 December 29. — At four this morning the commodore made the 
 signal to steer for France; so there is an end of our expedition 
 for the present; perhaps for ever. I spent all yesterday in my 
 hammock, partly through sea-sickness, and much more through 
 vexation. At ten we made prize of an unfortunate brig, bound 
 from Lisbon to Cork, laden with salt, which we sunk. 
 
 December 30, 31. — On our way to Brest. It will be well 
 supposed I am in no great humour to make memorandums. This 
 is the last day of the year 1796, which has been a very remark- 
 able one in my history. 
 
 January 1, 1797. — At eight this morning made the island of 
 Ushant, and at twelve opened the Goulet. We arrive seven sail: 
 the Indomptable, of 80; the Watigny, Cassard, and Eole, 74; the 
 Coquille, 36; the Atalante, 20; and the Vautour lugger of 14. 
 We left Brest forty-three sail, of which seventeen were of the line. 
 I am utterly astonished that we did not see a single English ship 
 of war, going nor coming back. They must have taken their 
 measures very ill, not to intercept us; but perhaps they have 
 picked up some of our missing ships. Well, this evening will 
 explain all, and we shall see now what is become of one of our 
 four admirals, and of our two generals-in-chief. 
 
169 
 
 EXTRACTS 
 
 FROM THB 
 
 JOURNAL or 1797.* 
 
 [Note of the Editor. — Amidst all the agitation of my father's mind, during the ill-fated 
 and tantalizing expedition of Bantry Bay, he was aware that his wife and three infant 
 cliiidren, whom he had left at Princeton, in New Jersey, on his departure from America, 
 w ere, amidst the storms of that wintry season, on their way to rejoin him. The feelings 
 of the most affectionate of husbands and of fathers, in such a situation, can be better 
 conceived than expressed. In fact, embarked in an American vessel for Hamburgh, we 
 almost crossed him in the British Channel, in the last days of December; and, after a 
 tedious and rough passage of two months, my mother, with her infant family, landed at 
 the mouth of the frozen Elbe, and proceeded to Hamburgh in an open post waggon. In 
 that commercial city, devoted to the British interest, the first news she received was, that 
 of the failure of the expediiion, embellished with a thousand exaggerations. Her anxiety 
 may well be conceived; obliged to conceal it, as well as her name, her only consolation 
 was, that she did not hear that of Tone mentioned. Already in weak and shattered 
 health, she was seized with a ner\'ous fever, and remained in the most cruel perplexity, 
 amongst strangers, whose very language she did not understand. She wrote instantly to 
 Paris, addressmg her letter to Mr Madgett, and the answer to this letter, which came in 
 due time, was the first news she received of his safety.] 
 
 January 1 to 31, 1797. — It is exactly one month to-day since I 
 wrote a line by way of memorandum. It will be well supposed I 
 had no great inclination, nor, in fact, have I had much to say. On 
 our arrival at Brest, after a day or two, there was a little intrigue set 
 on foot against General Grouchy, with a view to lessen the merit 
 of his services; in consequence of which he determined to send me 
 to Paris with his despatches for the directory and minister of war. 
 Simon was joined with me in commission, and Fairin was also 
 despatched by Cherin, who is at the head of this cabal. Grouchy 
 desired me to state fairly what I thought of his conduct during 
 our stay at Bantry Bay, to the government; and I was not a little 
 pleased with this proof of his good opinion. We set off on the 
 fifth of January, at night, and arrived, without accident, at Paris 
 on the 12tb. We went immediately to the minister of war, and 
 delivered our letters; we saw him but for an instant; thence we 
 went to the directory, where we were introduced, and had an 
 audience for above half an hour, at which all the directors assisted. 
 
 • Such parts of the Journal only are selected as relate to the proceedings and views o£ 
 the author in respect to Ireland. — £d. of Autobiography. 
 
170 LIFE OF 
 
 They were of opinion on that day, from tlie latest accounts, that 
 Hoche bad effectuated a landing with that part of the army wliicli 
 had been separated off Ban try Bay, and in consequence we expected 
 orders immediately to return to Brest. Several days elapsed in 
 this manner, waiting continually for news of the general, until at 
 length, on the 15th be arrived, with the Revolution 74, at La 
 Rochelle; so that put at once an end to my expectations of anything 
 further being attempted, at least for the present. The morning 
 after his arrival, I saw the general for five minutes. He received 
 me very favourably, and, four or five days after, was named to the 
 command of the army of Sambre et Meuse, which was decisive 
 with regard to our expedition. I began now to think of my own 
 situation and of that of my family, of whom it is at length surely 
 time to speak. On my arrival at Paris, I found a letter from my 
 wife at Madgett's, dated at Hamburgh, and informing me of her 
 safe arrival there about the 20th of December, with my sister and 
 the children, my brother having decided to settle in America. The 
 transports of joy I felt at the news of her arrival were most dread- 
 fully corrected by the account she gave me of her health, which 
 threw me into the most terrible alarms. I wrote to her instantly 
 to remain at Hamburgh until further orders, and by no means to 
 think of exposing herself, in her present weak state, and our dear 
 little babies, to a journey from Hamburgh, in this dreadful season; 
 a great part of the road being through a wild country, where there 
 is no better accommodation for travelling than open waggons. On 
 the 30th, I wrote to General Hoche on the subject of my present 
 situation, praying him to apply to the government to permit me to 
 retire from the service, preserving my pay and appointments, and, 
 at the same time, offering, at any future period when I might be 
 useful, to resume my situation. The same evening I had a 
 note from the general, desiring to see me early the next, morning, 
 and accordingly this day, 31st January, I went to the hotel of the 
 minister of war, where he is lodged, at eight o'clock. On my call- 
 ing on his aid-de-camp, Poitou, who makes his correspondence; 
 Poitou showed me my letter, with a note in the margin, written by 
 the general: "Faire une copie pour etre addressee au directoire, avec 
 la deinande de sa conservation, motivee sur Vutilite dont ilpeutetre; 
 lid faire une reponsejiaiteuse, et lid iemoigner ma satifrfacdon de sa 
 condidte.'" Nothing, certainly, can be more agreeable to me. 
 Poitou also showed me, in confidence, the copy of the general's 
 letter to the directory in my favour, which is worded in the most 
 flattering and strongest manner. So I am in hopes I shall suc- 
 ceed in my application. 
 
 February 8. — This day 1 was hailed by General Hoche, who 
 
THEOBALD "WOLFE TONE. 171 
 
 ■was driving through the Rue Montmartre, and informed nie 
 that my affair was settled ; so now I am fixed in the 
 French service, if nothing better offers in my own country. 
 I returned the general my acknowledgments, and so we 
 parted. Altogether, things do not look so gloomy just now as 
 they did a fortnight ago. If the Spaniards and the directory act 
 with spirit and decision, all may yet do well, and Ireland be 
 independent. As to myself, I can at least exist on my appoint- 
 ments; and if I had my family here, I could be as happy as the 
 richest man in Europe. I see in the English papers that, in a 
 late debate in the Irish Parliament, the Lord Chancellor (my old 
 friend Fitzgibbon, who is now Earl of Clare), did me the favour to 
 abuse me twice by name, as th-^ father of the United Irishmen. 
 I thought he had forgotten me, but if we had got safe into Ireland, 
 with the blessing of God, I would have refreshed his memory. 
 In the same debate he called General Hoche " a monster," so, at 
 least, I had the pleasure to be abused in good company. I wrote 
 a witty note, in an unknown language, which I please myself to 
 call French, to the general thereupon, consoling him for the 
 disgrace, etc. I think I am growing sprightly once more, but 
 GcJ knows the heart! 
 
 February 18. — General Hoche set off for the army on the 13th. 
 Before his departure, he asked ]\lr Shee whether I would like to 
 come to the army of Sainbre et Meuse? To which he answered 
 as before, that he was sure I would be ready to go wherever the 
 general thought I could be useful, on which the general desired 
 him to propose it to me. This was in consequence of a conversa- 
 tion I had with Mr Shee, in which I mentioned to him that I 
 thought we might be able, in consequence of my sister's marriage, 
 to open a communication with Ireland through Hamburgh; at 
 which General Hoche caught directly. It was fixed, in conse- 
 quence, that I should make this campaign with the army of 
 Sambre et Meuse, in order to be near his person; and he made 
 application accordingly to the directory, for my brevet as adjutant- 
 general, and an order to join forthwith. I learned, in the 
 minister's bureau, that I am designed as the ofiicer "charged with 
 the general's foreign correspondence." That has a lofty sound ! 
 In the meantime 1 see in the English papers, that government is 
 arresting ali the vrorld in Ireland. Arthur O'Connor, who it 
 seems is canvassing for the county Antrim, is taken up; but, I 
 believe, only for a libel. It seems he was walking with Lord 
 Edward Fitzsrerald when he was arrested. It is not for nothino; 
 that these two young gentlemen were walking together. I would 
 give a great deal for an hour's conversation with O'Connor. I 
 
172 LIFE OP 
 
 see he has thrown himself, body and soul, into the revolution of 
 his country. Well, if we succeed, he will obtain, and deserves, 
 one of the first stations in the government. He is a noble fellow, 
 that is the truth of it. I am now waiting for my brevet and 
 order to join, and eke, for my gratification cf entree en campagne^ 
 which amounts to 800 livres, together with two months' pay, 
 which will make, en numeraire, 330 livres more; and my trunk 
 has not vet arrived from Brest, and will not be here this month, 
 and before that time I may be at Cologne, where our head quarters 
 are fixed; and in my trunk are two gold watches and chains, and 
 my flute, and my papers, and all that makes life dear to me; and 
 so I am in perplexity and doubtful dilemma. I must see and 
 spin out the time, if possible, till my trunk arrives, or I shall be 
 in a state of anxiety thereupon, which will be truly alarming. 
 
 February 19, 20, 21, 22. — I see by the Courier of the 14th 
 instant, that Robert and William Sirams are arrested for publish- 
 ing Arthur O'Connor's letter, as it should seem, for the account 
 is rather confused. I collect from another paragraph in the same 
 paper, that they were released on the 9th; but O'Connor remains 
 in custody. He has proposed himself as candidate for the county 
 Antrim, and T have no doubt will be returned; and it is for a 
 letter to the electors of that county that he has been arrested. 
 Government will move heaven and earth to keep him out. There 
 is now scarcely one of my friends in Ireland but is in prison, and 
 most of them in peril of their lives; for the system of terror is 
 carried as far there as ever it was in France in the time of Robe- 
 spierre. I think I will call on Carnot to-day, and propose to him 
 to write to Dr Reynolds to have some person on whom we can 
 depend sent over from Ireland, in order to confer with the govern- 
 ment here. It may be easily done, and my letter will go in 
 perfect safety by Monroe. Allons ! 
 
 February 2Jf. — This day I called on Monroe, and gave him a 
 letter of eight pages for Dr Reynolds, in which I gave a detailed 
 account of our late expedition, and assure him of the determination 
 of the French government to persevere in our business. I likewise 
 offer him a rapid sketch of the present posture of the great powers 
 of Europe, in order to satisfy him of the permanency of the 
 Republic, together with a brief view of our comparative resources 
 as to England. Finally, I desire him, observing the most profound 
 secrecy and rigid caution, to write to Ireland; and by preference, 
 if possible, to R.S., to send a proper person to Hamburgh, ad- 
 dressed to the French resident there, in order to come on to Paris 
 and confer with the directory. I calculate, if nothing extraordinary 
 happens to delay him, that that person may be here by the middle 
 
THEOBALD WOLFE TONE. 173 
 
 of July next; finally, I desire him to assure my friends that we 
 have stronger ho[)es than ever of success; and to entreat them, in 
 the meantime, to remain quiet, and not, by a premature exph)sion, 
 give the English government a pretext to let loose their dragoons 
 upon them. Such is the substance of my letter, which I have 
 every reason to hope will go safe. 
 
 February 25. —Walked to Nanterre to see my friend Shee, with 
 whom I will spend two days. 
 
 March S. — I have been lately introduced to the famous Thomas 
 Paine, and like him very well. He is vain beyond belief, but he 
 has reason to be vain, and for my part I forgive him. He has 
 done wonders for the cause of liberty, both in America and 
 Europe, and I believe him to be conscientiously an honest man. 
 He converses extremely well; and I find him wittier in discourse 
 than in his writings; where his humour is clumsy enough. He 
 read me some passages from a reply to the Bi hop of Landaff, 
 which he is preparing for the press, in which he belabours the 
 prelate without mercy. He seems to plume himself more on his 
 theology than his politics, in which I do not agree with him. I 
 mentioned to him that I had known Burke in England, and spoke 
 of the shattered state of his mind, in consequence of the death of 
 his only son Richard. Paine immediately said that it was the 
 Riiihts of Man which broke hi=i heart; and that the death of his 
 son gave him occasion to develop the chagrin which had [reyed 
 upon him ever since the appearance of that work. I am suie the 
 Rights of Man have tormented Burke exceedhigly, but I have seen 
 myself the workings of a father's grief on his spirit, and I could 
 not be deceived. Paine has no children! Oh! my little babies, 
 if I was to lose my Will., or my little Fantom! Poor little souls, 
 I doat upon them, and on their darling mother, whom I love ten 
 thousand times more than my own existence. They are never out 
 of my thoughts. But, to return to Paine: he drinks like a fish; a 
 misfortune which I have known to befall other celebrated patriots. 
 I am told that the true time to see him to advantage is about ten 
 at night, with a bottle of brandy and water before him, which I can 
 very well conceive. I have not yet had that advantage, but must 
 contrive, if I can, to sup with him at least one night before I set 
 off for the army. 
 
 March 11, 12. — Apjlied to-d;iy and got an order for my arrears 
 since the 1st Navore. In the margin of the order I observed the 
 following note: "JVota. Vactivite ei la grande utilite de cet officier, 
 ont ele attestees par le bureau des ojjiciers generaux." This is very 
 handsome. [Here follows an account of General Tones journey to 
 the head-quarters of General Roche at Cologne.l^ 
 
174 LIFE OF 
 
 April? — Cologne. — Went with the Adjutant- General Gastines, 
 with whom I travelled to the quarter-general. The general busy, and 
 could not see us, but sent to invite us to dinner. Dinner pleasant. 
 
 April 9. — Called on Mr Shee early, and mentioned to him my 
 present situation. After turning it into all possible lights, we 
 agreed that I should write a letter to the general, suggesting the 
 necessity of opening a communication with Ireland, and offering, 
 in case he had not otherwise disposed of me, to go in person to 
 Hamburgh for that purpose. Wrote the letter accordingly, which 
 Mr Shee translated, and I signed. 
 
 April 12. — Saw the general to-day, for an instant, before dinner. 
 He told me he had read my letter, approved of the plan; and had, 
 in consequence, desired Poitou to make out a permission for me to 
 goto Hamburgh. I did not like the word "permission," and 
 therefore took an opportunity to speak to him again after dinner, 
 when I told him that I did not desire to go to Hamburgh unless 
 he himself thought it advisable, and requested that in that case, 
 he would give me an order, specifically, for that purpose; as other- 
 wise it might appear that I had applied for a conge at the very 
 opening of the campaign, which was not the case. He entered 
 into my view of the business directly, and promised me to have 
 the order made accordingly; so I am in hopes that affair will be 
 settled to my mind. I took this occasion to ask him if he had 
 any particular directions to give me, or any particular person to 
 whom he wished I should address myself. He told me not. That 
 all I had to do was to assure my friends that both the French 
 government, and himself individually, were bent as much as ever 
 on the emancipation of Ireland, that preparations were making for 
 a second attempt, which would be concluded as speedily as the 
 urgency of affairs would admit; that it was a business w'hich the 
 Republic w^ould never give up; and that if three expeditions failed, 
 they would try a fourth; and ever, until tliey succeeded. He 
 desired me also to recommend that this determination should he 
 made known through the medium of the patriotic prints in Ireland, 
 in order to satisfy the people that we had not lost sight of them. 
 I then took my leave, and we wdshed each other mutually a good 
 voyage. I am very well satisfied with the turn which this affair 
 is like to take; and especially, I am infinitely indebted to General 
 Hoche for his kindness to me personally. 
 
 A^jril 17. — This day Fairin, aid-de-cam.p to General Cherin, 
 brought me the order for my departure, enclosed in a very friendly 
 letter from the gcneral-in-chicf. I do not see anything concerning 
 my frais de route, so, I presume, that part of the business ia 
 refused, It is well it is no \Yorse, 
 
THEOBALD WOLFE TONE. 175 
 
 DUUING THE PERIOD THAT GENERAL TONE WAS ATTACHED 
 
 TO THE B ATA VI AN ARMY. 
 
 Note o lie El ..jr. — Before my father reached Amsterdam, the war was concluded, 
 and Hociic stopped in his career of victory by the news of the truce with Austria concluded 
 by Buonaparte. My father's meeting with his family was short and delightful. He 
 travelled with us about a fortnight through Holland and Belgium, left us at Brussels, and 
 on ttie 26th of May was already returned to head-quarters at Cologne, whilst we proceeded 
 on to Paris. The important events which ensued are contained in the following Journal, 
 which he resumed with a new spirit on his arrival.] 
 
 May 26, 1797. — Cologne. — I see to-day in the Journal G6nerale, - 
 an article copied from an English paper, dated about a fortnight 
 ago, which mentions that a discovery had been made in Ireland of 
 a communication between the discontented party there, and the 
 French; that one of the party had turned traitor, and impeached 
 the rest; and that, on his indication, near fifty persons, in and near 
 Belfast, had been arrested, one of them a dissenting clergyman; 
 that their papers had been all seized; and that, on the motion of 
 Mr Pelham, the English secretary, they were to be submitted to 
 the inspection of a secret committee of the House of Commons. 
 All this looks very serious. 
 
 June Jf. — Friedberg. — In the Moniteur of the 27th is a long 
 article, copied from the English papers of the 18th May, and con- 
 taining the substance of the report made by the secret committee 
 above mentioned^ most of the facts contained in it I was already 
 acquainted with; the organisation is, however, much more com- 
 plete than when I left Ireland. The most material fact is, that 
 above 100,000 United Irishmen exist in the north of Ireland, and 
 that they have a large quantity of arms, and at least eight pieces 
 of cannon and one mortar concealed. I presume that martial law 
 is proclaimed long before this; as I see, in the Frankfort Gazette, 
 an article from England of the 23d May, viz., five days after that 
 in the Moniteur, which mentions two or three skirmishes between 
 the army and some detached portions of the people, who are de- 
 nominated the rebels, in which the army had, of course, the 
 advantage. I do not at all believe that the people are prepared 
 for a serious and general insurrection; and, in short (why should I 
 conceal the fact ?) I do not believe they have the spirit. It is not 
 fear of the army, but fear of the law, and long habits of slavery, 
 that keep them down; it is not fear of the general, but fear of the 
 judge. In the meantime, it seems Marquis Cornwallis is named 
 to the command in Ireland, and that Lord O'Neil, Mr ConoUy, 
 and the Duke of Leinster, have resigned their regiments. The 
 example of the last has been followed by all the officers of the Kil- 
 dare militia; this last circumstance is, in some degree, consolatory. 
 
 June 12. — Quartier-general at Friedberg. This evening the 
 
176 LIFE 0? 
 
 general called me into the garden and told me lie had some good 
 news for me. He then asked, " Did I know one Lewines ? " 1 
 answered I did, perfectly well, and had a high opinion of his 
 talents and patriotism. " Wei!," said he, " he is at Neuwied, wait- 
 ing to see you; you must set off to-morrow morning; when you join 
 him, you must go together to Treves, and wait for further orders." 
 The next morning I set ofiP, and on the 14th, in the evening, 
 reached — 
 
 June IJf.. — Neuwied, where I found Lewines waiting for me. I 
 cannot express the unspeakable satisfaction I felt at seeing him. I 
 gave him a full account of all my labours, and of every thing that 
 happened since I have been in France; and he informed me, in 
 return, of everything of consequence relating to Ireland, and 
 especially to my friends now in jeopardy there. I cannot pretend 
 to detail his conversation, which occupied us fully during our stay 
 at Neuwied, and our journey to — 
 
 June 17. — Treves, where we arrived on the 17th. What is 
 most material is, that he is sent here by the executive committee 
 of the united people of Ireland, to solicit, on their part, the assist- 
 ance in troops, arms, and money, necessary to enable them to take 
 the field, and assert their liberty; the organisation of the people is 
 complete, and nothing is wanting but the ;;omi d^appui. His 
 instructions are to apply to France, Holland, and Spain. At 
 Hamburgh, where he passed only two months, he met a senor 
 Nava, an officer of rank in the Spanish Navy, sent thither by the 
 Prince of Peace, on some mission of consequence; he opened him- 
 self to Nava, who wrote off, in consequence, to his court, and 
 received an answer, general, it is true, but in the highest degree 
 favourable; a circumstance which augurs well, is, that in forty 
 days from the date of Nava's letter, he received the answer, which 
 is less time than he ever knew a courier to arrive in, and shows 
 the earnestness of the Spanish minister. Lewines's instructions 
 are to demand of Spain >£'500,000 sterling, and 30,000 stand of 
 arms. At Treves, on the 19th, Dalton, the general's aid-de-carap, 
 came express with orders for us to return to — 
 
 June 21. — Coblentz, where we arrived on the 21st, and met 
 General Hoche. He told us not to be discouraged by the arrival 
 of a British negotiator, for that the directory were determined to 
 make no peace but on conditions which would put it out of the 
 power of England longer to arrogate to herself the commerce of 
 the world, and dictate her laws to all the maritime powers. He 
 added, that preparations were making also in Holland for an ex- 
 pedition, the particulars of which he would communicate to us in two 
 or three days; and^ in the meantime, he desired us to attend him to — 
 
THEOBALD WOLFE TONE. 177 
 
 June i^. — Cologne. — At 9 o'clock at night the general sent us 
 n letter from General Daendels, commander-in-chief of the army of 
 the Batavian republic, acquainting him that everything was in the 
 greatest forwardness, and would be ready in a very few days; that 
 the army and the navy were in the best possible spirit; that the 
 committe for foreign nffairs (the directory per interim of the 
 Batavian Kepublic) desired most earnestly to see him without loss 
 of time, in order to make the definite arrangements; and especially 
 they prayed him to bring with him the deputy of the people of 
 Ireland, which Daendels repeated two or three times in his letter. 
 In consequence of this, I waited on the general, whom I found in 
 his bed in the Cour Imperiale, and received his orders to set off 
 with Lewines without any loss of time, and endeavour to attend 
 him at — 
 
 June 27. — The Hague, where we arrived accordingly, having 
 travelled day and night. In the evening we went to the comedie, 
 where we met the general in a sort of public incognito; that is to 
 say, he had combed the powder out of his hair, and was in a plain 
 regimental frock. After the play, we followed him to his lodging 
 at the Lion d'Or, where he gave us a full detail of what was pre- 
 paring in Holland. He began by telling us that the Dutch 
 Governor, General Daendels, and Admiral Dewinter, were sin- 
 cerely actuated by a desire to effectuate something striking to 
 rescue their country from that state of oblivion and decadence into 
 which it had fallen; that, by the most indefatigable exertions on 
 their part, they had got together, at the Texel, sixteen sail of the 
 line, and eight or ten frigates, all ready for sea, and in the highest 
 condition; that they intended to embark 15,000 men, the whole of 
 their national troops, 3000 stand of arms, 80 pieces of artillery, and 
 money for their pay and subsistence for three months; that he had 
 the best opinion of the sincerity of all parties, and of the courage 
 and conduct of the general and admiral, but that here was the 
 dilTiculty: the French government had demanded that at least 
 5,000 French troops, the elite of the army, should be embarked, 
 instead of a like number of Dutch; in which case, if the demand 
 was acceded to, he would himself take the command of the united 
 army, and set off for the Texel directly; but that the Dutch 
 government made great difficulties, alleging a variety of reasons, 
 of which some were good; that they said the French troops would 
 never submit to the discipline of the Dutch navy; and that, in 
 that case, they could not pretend to enforce it on their own, with- 
 out making unjust distinctions, and giving a reasonable ground 
 for jealousy and discontent to their army; '' but the fact is," said 
 Hoche, "that the committee, Daendels, and Dewinter, are anxious 
 
178 LIFE OF 
 
 that the Batavian republic shouki have the whole glory of the 
 expedition if it succeeds; they feel that their country has been for- 
 gotten in Europe, and they are risking everything, even to their 
 last stake • for, if this fails, they are ruined — in order to restore 
 the national character. The demand of the French government is 
 now before the committee; if it is acceded to, I will go myself, 
 and, at all events, I will present you both to the committee, and 
 we will probably then settle the matter definitely." Both Lewiiies 
 and I now found ourselves in a considerable difficulty. On the one 
 side, it was an object of the greatest importance to have Hoche 
 and his 5000 grenadiers; on the other, it was most unreasonable 
 to propose anything which could hurt the feelings of the Dutch 
 people, at a moment when they were making unexampled exer- 
 tions in our favour, and risking, as Hoche himself said, their last 
 ship and last shilling to emancipate us. I cursed and swore like 
 a dragoon; it went to my very heart's blood and midriff to give up 
 the general and our brave lads, 5000 of whom I would prefer to 
 any 10,000 in Europe; on the other hand, I could not but see 
 that the Dutch were perfectly reasonable in the desire to have the 
 whole reputation of an affair prepared and arranged entirely at 
 their expense, and at such an expense. I confess Hoche's re- 
 nouncing the situation which he might command is an effort of 
 very great virtue. It is true he is doing exactly what an honest 
 m;>n and a good citizen ought to do; he is preferring the interests 
 of his country to his own private views; that, however, does not 
 prevent my regarding his conduct, in this instance, with great 
 admiration, and I shall never forget it. 
 
 June 2S. — This morning, at ten, Lewines and I went with 
 General Hoche to the committee for foreign affairs, which we 
 found sitting. There were eio;ht or nine members, of whom I do not 
 know all the names, together with General Daendels. Those whose 
 names I learned were citizens Hahn (vvho seemed to have great 
 influence among them), Bekker, Van Leyden, and Grasvelde 
 General Hoche began by stating extremely well the history of our 
 affairs, since he had interested himself in them; he pressed in the 
 strongest manner that we could wish the advantages to be reaped 
 from the emancipation of Ireland, the almost certainty of success, 
 if the attempt were once made, and the necessity of j.ltempting it, 
 if at all, immediately. It w\as citizen Hahn who replied to him. 
 He said he was heartily glad to find the measure sanctioned by so 
 high an opinion as that of General Hoche; that originally the object 
 of the Dutch government was to have invaded England, in order 
 to have operated a diversion in favour of the French army, which 
 it is hoped would have been in Ireland; that circumstances being 
 
THEOBALD WOLFE TO^E. 179 
 
 totally cLanged in that regard, they had yielded to the wishes of 
 the French government, and resolved to go into Ireland; that, for 
 this purpose, they had made the greatest exertions, and had now 
 at the Texel an armament of 16 sail of the line, 10 frigates, 15,000 
 troops in the best condition, 80 pieces of artillery, and pay for the 
 whole for three months; but that a difficulty had been raised within 
 a few days, in consequence of a requisition of the minister of 
 marine, Truguet, who wished to have 5000 French troops, instead 
 of so many Dutch, to be disembarked in consequence. That this 
 ►was a measure of extreme risk, inasmuch as the discipline of the 
 Dutch navy was very severe, and such as the French troops would 
 probably not submit to; that, in that case, they could not pretend 
 to enforce it with regard to their own troops, the consequence of 
 which would be a relaxation of all discipline. This was precisely 
 what General Hoche told us last night. He immediately replied, 
 that, such being the case, he would take on himself to withdraw 
 the demand of the minister of marine, and satisfy the directory as 
 to the justice of their observations; and that he hoped, all difficulty 
 on that head being removed, they would press the embarkation 
 without a moment's delay. It was easy to see the most lively 
 satisfaction on all their faces at this declaration of General Hoche, 
 which certainly does him the greatest honour. General Daendels, 
 especially, was beyond measure delighted. They told us then 
 that they hoped all would be ready in a fortnight. A member of 
 the committee, I believe it was Van Ley den, then asked us, sup- 
 posing everything succeeded to our wish, what was the definite 
 object of the Irish people. To which we replied categorically, that 
 it was to throw off the yoke of England, break for ever the con- 
 nexion now existing with that country, and constitute ourselves a 
 free and independent people. They all expressed their satisfaction 
 at this reiily ; and Van Leyden observed that he had travelled 
 through Ireland, and to judge from the luxury of the rich, and 
 extreme misery of the poor, no country in Europe had so crying a 
 necessity for a revolution. To which Lewines and I replied, as is 
 most religiously the truth, that one great motive of our C(mduct 
 in this business was the conviction of the wretched state of our 
 peasantry, and the determination, if possible, to amend it. The 
 political object of our visit being now nearly ascertained, Hahn, in 
 the name of the committee, observed that he hoped either Lewines 
 or I would be of the expedition, as our presence with the general 
 would be indispensable. To which Hoche replied, '• that I was 
 ready to go," and he made the offer, on my part, in a manner 
 peculiarly agreeable to my feelings. It was then fixed that I should 
 get off for the army of Sambre et Meuse for my trunk, and 
 
180 LIFE OF 
 
 especially for my papers, and that Lewiiies should remain at the 
 Hague, at the orders of the committee, until my return, which 
 might be seven or eight days. The meeting then broke up. 
 
 July 1, — Arrived at Cologne, where I found the general. He 
 told me that, as he had expected, the minister of marine was 
 piqued, and had given orders in consequence, to prepare every tiling 
 at Brest with the greatest expedition ; that he had, if necessary, 
 .£300,000 at the disposal of the minister; that he had just received 
 orders from the directory to proceed instantly to Paris, by way of 
 Dunkirk; that from Paris he would set off for Brest, where every 
 thing would be ready in a fortnight, and in a month he hoped to 
 be in Ireland. He then ordered me £50 sterling, with orders to 
 return immediately to the Hague, with a letter for General Daen- 
 dels. I told him, that if he expected to be ready so soon, it was 
 my wish not to quit him. He replied, he had considered it, and 
 thought it best I should accompany Daendels,on which I acquiesced. 
 I then took occasion to speak on a subject which had weighed very 
 much upon my mind; I mean the degree of influence which the 
 French might be disposed to arrogate to themselves in Ireland, and 
 which I had great reason to fear would be greater than we might 
 choose to allow them. In the gazette of that day there was a 
 proclamation of Buonaparte's, addressed to the government of 
 Genoa, which I thought most grossly improper and indecent, as 
 touching on the indispensable rights of the people. I read the 
 most obnoxious passages to Hoche; and observed, that if Buon.i- 
 parte commanded in Ireland, and were to publish there so indis- 
 creet a proclamation, it would have a most ruinous effect; that in 
 Italy such dictation might pass, but never in Ireland, where we 
 understood our rights too well to submit to it, Hoche answered 
 me, " I understand you, but you may be at ease in that respect; 
 Buonaparte has been my scholar, but he shall never be my master," 
 He then launched out into a very severe critique on Buonaparte's 
 conduct, which certainly has latterly been terribly indiscreet, to 
 say no worse of it; and observed that, as to his victories, it was 
 easy to gain victories with such troops as he commanded; especially 
 when the general made no difficulty to sacrifice the lives of his 
 soldiers, and that these victories had cost the republic 200,000 
 men. A great deal of what Hoche said was very true, but I could 
 see at the bottom of it a very great jealousy of Buonaparte, 
 
 July 8. — Arrived early in the morning at the Texel, and went 
 immediately on board the admiral's ship, the Vryheid, of 74 guns; 
 a superb vessel. Found General Daendels aboard, who presented 
 me to Admiral Devvinter, who commands the expedition. 
 
 July IS, — I have had a good deal of discourse to-day with 
 
I 
 
 THEOBALD WOLFE TONE. 181 
 
 General Daendels, and I am more and more pleased with biin. 
 His plan is, to place such of our people as may present themselves 
 at first in the cadres of the regiments which we bring out, until 
 our battalions are 1,000 each; that then we may form a corps, 
 and he will give us proper officers to discipline and organize it; 
 that he will keep the main army of 18 or 20,000 men in activity, 
 and leave the security of our communications, the guarding of 
 passes, rivers, etc., to the national troops, until they are in a cer- 
 tain degree disciplined, A great deal of this is good, but we must 
 be brought more forward in the picture than that, for every reason 
 in the world. I replied, that the outline of his plan was just; but 
 that cases might occur where it would be necessary to depart from 
 it occasionally. For instance, if the militia were to join us, they 
 ought not, nor would they consent to be incorporated in the Dutch 
 battalions. Daendels said, " certainly not; that he knew what the 
 esjyrU de corps was too well to think of it; that the militia bat- 
 talions would, in that case, become themselves cadres of regiments;" 
 so that affair will be settled to the satisfaction of all parties. 
 
 July IJf.. — General Daendels showed me to-day his instructions 
 from the Dutch government. They are fair and honest, and I 
 have no doubt he will act up to them. The spirit of them is 
 always to maintiin the character of a faithful ally; not to interfere 
 in the domestic concerns of the people; to aid them by every mean5 
 in his power to establish their liberty and independence; and to 
 expect no condition in return, but that we should throw off the 
 English yoke; and that, when all was settled on that score, wg 
 should arrange our future commerce with the Dutch republic on 
 the basis of reciprocal advantage and accommodation. 
 
 July 24, 25, 5^. -^To-day 1 saw in the Dutch papers that great 
 changes have taken place in the French ministry. Talleyrand 
 Perigord, cidevant Bishop of Autun, whom I saw in Philadelphia, 
 is appointed to the foreign affairs, in place of Charles de la Croix; 
 Pleville Pelet to the marine, in place of Truguet; Lenoir Laroche 
 to the police, in place of Cochon; Frangais de Neufchateau to the 
 interior, in place of Benezech; and Hoche to the war department, 
 in place of Petiet. Of all these new men I only knew Hoche. 
 Sat down immediately and wrote him a letter of congratulation, 
 in which I took occasion to mention the negotiation now ^oinj; on 
 at Lisle, with the English plenipotentiary, Lord Malmesbury; and 
 prayed him, in case that peace was inevitable, to exert his interest 
 to get an article inserted, to restore to their country or liberty all 
 the Irish patriots who are in exile or in prison; and assuring him, 
 at the same time, that I should never profit of such an article, as I 
 never would return to Ireland whilst she remained in slavery. 
 
182 IIFE OP 
 
 July S7, 28. — Yesterday we bad a sort of fair wind, but wliicli 
 came so late, and was so feeble, that we could not weigh anchor; 
 at eight in the evening it came round to the west, as bad as ever; 
 and to-day it is not much better. I am weary of my life. The 
 French are fitting out a squadron at Brest, which, it now appears, 
 is to be only of twelve sail of the line. Lord Bridport's fleet is 
 twenty-two sail; ergo, he may detach, with perfect security, seven 
 sail, to reinforce Duncan, who will then have at least nineteen sail 
 against our fifteen; ergo, he will beat us, etc. Damn it to all eter- 
 nity for me. I am in a transport of rage, which I cannot describe. 
 Everything now depends upon the wind, and we are totally helpless. 
 
 July 29. — I like Dewinter's behaviour very much; there is 
 nothing like fanfaronade in it; and I fancy Duncan will have warm 
 work of it to-morrow morning. The wind to-night is excellent, 
 and blows fresh; if it holds, as I trust in God it may, to-morrow, 
 at eight o'clock, we shall be under way, being the hour of the tide. 
 
 August 5. — This morning arrived aboard the Vryheid, Lowry, 
 of County Down, member of the executive committee, and John 
 Tennant, of Belfast. I am in no degree delighted with the intelli- 
 gence which they bring. The persecution in Ireland is at its 
 height; and the people there, seeing no prospect of succour, which 
 has been so long promised to them, are beginning to lose confi- 
 dence in themselves, and their chiefs, whom they almost suspect of 
 deceiving them. They ground their suspicions on the great crisis 
 of the nmtiny being suffered to pass by, without the French 
 government making the smallest attempt to profit of it; and I can 
 hardlv blame them. If either the Dutch or the French can cfiec- 
 tuate a landing, I do not believe the present submission of the 
 people will prevent their doing what is right;" and if no landing 
 can be effectuated, no part remains for the people to adopt but 
 submission or flight. 
 
 August 12. — To-night Admiral Dewinter took me into secret, 
 and told me that he had prepared a memorial to his government, 
 stating that the present plan was no longer advisable; and, in con- 
 sequence, he proposed that it should be industriously published 
 that the expedition was given up; that the trooj^s should be dis- 
 embarked, except from 2500 to 3000 men, of the ^liteof the army, 
 who, with twenty or thirty pieces of artillery, and all the arras and 
 ammunition, should remain on board the frigates, and one or two 
 of the fastest sailing transports; that, as the vigilance of the enemy 
 would probably be relaxed in consequence, this flotilla should pro- 
 fit of the first favourable moment to put to sea and push for their 
 original destination, where they should land the men, arms, and 
 artillery, and he would charge himself with the execution of this 
 
THEOBALD WOLFE TONE. 183 
 
 plan; that, by this means,, even if 1;hey fuilecl, the republic would 
 be at no very great loss, and if they succeeded, must gain exceed- 
 ingly; that she would preserve her grand fleet, which was now her 
 last stake; and during the winter, would be able to augment it, so 
 as to open the next campaign, in case peace was not made during 
 the winter, with twenty sail of the line in the North Sea; whereas, 
 on the present system, to the execution of which were opfjosed the 
 supi'riority of the enemy, extra consumption of provisions, and 
 especially the lateness of the season, a successful engagement at 
 sea would not ensure the success of the measure; and an unsuc- 
 cessful one, by ruining the fleet, would render it impossible for the 
 republic to recover, for a long time at least, the blow. These are, 
 most certainly, very strong reasons; and, unfortunately, the wind 
 gives them, every hour, fresh weight. I answered that I did not 
 see at present any solid objection to propose to his system; and 
 that all I had to say was, that, if the Batavian Republic sent but 
 a corporal's guard to Ireland, I was ready to make one. So here 
 is our expedition in a hopeful way. It is most terrible. Twice, 
 within nine months, has England been saved by the wind. 
 
 August 13. — The general returned last night, and this morning 
 he mentioned to me the admiral's plan, in which he said he did 
 not well see his way; and was proceeding to give me his reasons, 
 when we were interrupted by General Dumonceau, our second in 
 command, and a heap of officers, who broke up our conversation. 
 When he renews it, I will support Dewinter's plan as far as I am 
 able. The wind is as foul as ever. 
 
 Augud 15. — As it will require from three weeks to a month to 
 arrange matters for the expedition on the present plan, Lowry and 
 Tennant have determined to go on to the Hague, and if they have 
 time, to Paris, in order to see M'Neven and Le wines, and to j-'in 
 with them in endeavouring to procure assistance from France; and 
 especially, if possible, to obtain a small armament to co-operate 
 with that from the Texel; and which, by spreading the alarm, and 
 distracting the attention of the enemy, must produce the most 
 beneficial effects. It is likewise their wish that I should accom- 
 pany them; and if I had the time and money to spare, I should 
 like it well enough, and I think it might do good. In consequence, 
 it was determined this morning that I should return immediately 
 aboard the Vryheid. Dewinter has not yet received the answer 
 of the Dutch Government to his plan. 
 
 August 19, 20. — Yesterday morning the general and Grasveldt 
 set off" for the Hague in one carriage, and Lowry, Tennant, and I, 
 in another. Breakfasted with the sfeneral. He told mc, in the 
 first place, that the government had rejected the plan proposed by 
 
18^ LIFE OP 
 
 the admiral, viz. : to transport 2500 men, and the arms, stores, 
 and ammunition; and had determined to persist in their original 
 design; that, however, in consideration of the lateness of the season, 
 he had prepared a memorial, which he showed me, for a new- 
 arrangement, which is shortly this: To sail out and fight Admiral 
 Duncan. If the issue of the battle be favourable, to pass over 
 immediately 15,000 men, or as many more as we can send, in 
 everything that will swim, to Scotland; to seize, in the first instance, 
 on Edinburgh, and march right to Glasgow, taking every possible 
 means to alarm the enemy with the idea that we meant to pene- 
 trate by the North of England, which is to be done by detaching 
 flying parties, making requisitions, etc., on that side; to maintain 
 ourselves, meantime, behind the canal which joins the Firth of 
 Forth to the Clyde, having our right at Dumbarton and our left 
 at Falkirk, as well as I can remember, for I have not, at present, 
 either the map or the memorial before me; to collect all the vessels 
 in the Clyde, and pass over the army to the North of Ireland. 
 
 August 2Jf. — Hard work at the newspapers. All we have found 
 remarkable is, that Roger O'Connor surrendered himself, and was 
 discharged about the middle of July; Arthur O'Connor, the 3d of 
 July, his sureties being Fitzgerald and Enmiet; and it should seem, 
 though it is not very clearly expressed, that nearly, if not the 
 whole of the other state prisoners have been also enlarged. 
 God Almighty send ! If we arrive, they will be of use; if we do 
 not, at least they are not languishing in prison. 
 
 August 26. — The general has submitted his plan to General 
 Dejean, who approves of it entirely in a military point of view, 
 provided the frigates can get round to meet us; but of this, bar- 
 ring some unforeseen accident, I think there can be little doubt; 
 inasmuch as the admiral himself, who seems at present cool enough 
 in all that concerns the expedition, has already, in his project of 
 the 10th instant, not only given his opinion in favour of the pos- 
 sibility of effectuating, with frigates, the passage north about, but 
 even offered to command the expedition. The general's plan is 
 now before the government, with General Dejean's approbation, 
 and he tells me he has strong hopes it will be adopted. 
 
 September 1. — A new system, rendered indispensable by the 
 course of events, has been mentioned to me to day by the 
 general, which will probably oblige me to make a course to the 
 head-quarters of the army of Sambre et Meuse, and from 
 thence to Paris. Admiral Duncan's fleet has been reinforced 
 to twenty-one sail of the line ; so that, even if the wind come 
 round in our favour, it would be madness in us to venture an 
 action with such a terrible inferiority of force; in addition to 
 
THEOBALD WOLFE TONE. 185 
 
 wliich, we have now, in consequence of the delays occasioned by 
 the wind, not above ten days' provisions remaining for the troops 
 on board. The plan proposed is, in fiict, but an improvement on 
 the last one, viz., to land the troops, and quarter them in the 
 neighbourhood, so as to be able to collect them in forty-eight 
 hours; to appear to have renounced the idea of the expedition, 
 but in the meantime to revictual the fleet with all diligence and 
 secrecy, which may occupy probably a month; to endeavour even 
 to reinforce it by one or two vessels, who might, in that time, be 
 got ready for sea. All this will bring us to the time of the 
 equinox, when it will be impossible for the enemy, who will, 
 besides, it is probable, have relaxed in his vigilance, in consequence 
 of these manoeuvres, to keep the sea. When all is ready, the 
 troops are to be re-embarked with the greatest expedition, and a 
 push to be made instantly for Scotland, as already detailed. 
 Such is the present idea, which we shall probably lick into more 
 shape. The general talks of sending me to the Hague to confer 
 with the Dutch government and General Dejean, from thence to 
 Wetzlar, to communicate with Hoche, and from thence to Paris, 
 to open the affiiir to the minister of marine. 
 
 SeiAembei- 2, 8. — This day the general gave me my instructions 
 to set off to join General Hoche at Wetzlar, and gave him a copy 
 of the memorial containing the plan already mentioned. In 
 addition, he gave me the verbal instructions to the following purport, 
 that, in addition to the written plan, it might be expedient to 
 follow up the first debarkation by a second of 15,000 of the 
 French troops, now in the bay of Holland; with which reinforce- 
 ment, the army, being brought up to 30,000 men, could maintain 
 itself in Scotland in spite of any force that could be brought 
 against them; that they might even penetrate into England, and 
 by that means force the enemy to a peace; that 25,000 might be 
 employed on this service, and the remaining 5000 detached into 
 Ireland, from whence it was morally certain that a great portion 
 of the troops would be withdrawn to defend England itself. 
 That, if General Hoche would, in that case, take the command of 
 the united armies, he (Daendels) desired nothing better than to 
 serve under him; if not, he w^as ready to serve under any other 
 French general, being a senior officer; in which case each army 
 was, as to all matters of discipline, administration, etc., to remain 
 under their respective chiefs. 
 
 September 13. — This day I saw General Hoche, who is just 
 returned from Frankfort; he has been very ill with a violent cold, 
 and has still a cough, which makes me seriously uneasy about 
 him; he does not seem to apprehend anything himself; but I 
 
186 LIFE OP THEOBALD WOLFE TONE. 
 
 sbould not be surprised, for my part, if, in three months, he were 
 in a rapid consumption. He is dreadfully altered, and has a dry, 
 hollow cough, that it is distressing to the last degree to hear. I 
 should be most sincerely and truly sorry if any thing were to 
 happen him; but I very much fear he will scarcely throw off his 
 present illness. I immediately explained to him the cause of my 
 arrival, gave him Daendel's plan, and the map of Scotland, and 
 such further elucidation as I was able, in conversation. He shook 
 his head at the idea of a second embarkation at the mouth of the 
 Clyde; and observed, that, if we got safe into Scotland, the 
 British would immediately detach a squadron of frigates into the 
 Irish channel, which W'ould arrive to a moral certainty before the 
 Dutch frigates which were, according to the plan proposed, to go 
 north about, and that they would thus cut us off all communica- 
 tion with Ireland. 
 
 September ^^-?.— The death of General Hoche having broken my 
 connexion with the army of Sambre et Meuse, where I have no 
 longer any l>usiness, I applied this day (20th) for an order to set 
 off for Paris, which I obtained instantly from General Lefebvre, 
 who commands in chief, per interim. Set off at four o'clock and 
 travelled all night; arrived at twelve on the 21st, at Coblentz, 
 and at night at Bonu. 
 
 
187 
 
 EXTRACTS 
 
 FROM THE 
 
 JOURNAL OF 1797-1798, 
 
 DURING THE PERIOD THAT GENERAL TONE WAS ATTACHED TO 
 
 THE ARMEE d'aNGLETERRE. 
 
 October 1, 1797, or thereabouts, I arrived in Paris, where I had 
 the satisfaction to find my wife and little babies in health and 
 spirits; went to Lewines, who is in high favour here with every 
 body; he is all but acknowledged as minister from Ireland, and I 
 am heartily glad of it: for I have an excellent opinion of his 
 integrity and talents. 
 
 October 15. — The peace is at last concluded with the emperor, 
 and England only remains. With the conditions of the peace, 
 strictly speaking, I have nothing to do, my great object and wish 
 being confined to the prostration of English tyranny. Yet it is a 
 great satisfaction to me to see that they are as favourable as I 
 think any reasonable man can desire. The Cisalpine Republic is 
 acknowledged, and I fancy we have got the Rhine for our limit. 
 Venice goes to the emperor, which is bad, if it could be helped; 
 but we cannot get every thing. General Berthier was the bearer 
 of this great news. Firing of cannon, bonfires, illuminations — 
 Paris w;\3 that day in great glory. 
 
 The day after the proclamation of the peace, I saw an arr-ete of 
 the directory, ordaining the formation of an army, to be called 
 Ij Armee d" Angleterre; and appointing Buonaparte to command it. 
 Bravo ! This looks as if they were in earnest. General Des.iix, 
 of the army of the Rhine, who distinguished himself so much by 
 his defence of Kehl against Prince Charles in the last campaign, 
 is ordered to superintend the organisation of the army until the 
 arrival of Buonaparte. All this is famous news. 
 
 It is singular enough that I should have forgotten to mention 
 in its place the famous battle fought on the 11th of October, be- 
 tween the English fleet, under Admiral Duncan, and the Dutch, 
 commanded by Dewiuter. It shows the necessity of making 
 
188 ufE OP 
 
 memorandums on the moment. There never was a more complete 
 victory than that gained by the English. The fleets were eqnal in 
 number, but they had the advantage in number of guns and weight 
 of metal. Dewinter fought like a lion, and defended himself to 
 the last extremity; but was at length forced to strike, as were nine 
 of his fleet out of sixteen, whereof it consisted. With him were 
 taken the Admirals Reyntzies, who is since dead, and Meurer. 
 Bloys lost his right arm, and Story is the only one who came off 
 clear; the two last were not taken. I cannot conceive why the 
 Dutch government sent out their fleet at that season, without 
 motive or object, as far as I can learn. My opinion is, that it is 
 direct treason, and that the fleet was sold to Pitt; and so think 
 Barras, Pleville le Pelley, and even Meyer, the Dutch ambassador, 
 whom I have seen once or twice. It was well I was not on board 
 the Vryheid. If I had, it would have been a pretty piece of busi- 
 ness. I fancy I am not to be caught at sea by the English : for 
 this is the second escape I have had ; and by land I mock myself 
 of them. 
 
 November 9. — This day General H^douville brought me to 
 General Perthier, and presented me to him, recommending me in 
 the warmest manner. We had very little conversation, but he pro- 
 mised to speak of me to General Buonaparte, whom he sets oft' to 
 join in three or four days. Two days after, I called, and left for 
 him a memorial of about five lines, addressed to Buonaparte, 
 offering my services, etc. It is droll enough I should be writing 
 to Buonaparte. 
 
 December 21. — General Desaix brought Lewines and me this 
 morning and introduced us to Buonaparte, at his house in the Rue 
 Chantereine. He lives in the greatest simplicity; his house is 
 small, but neat, and all the furniture and ornaments in the most 
 classical taste. He is about five feet six inches high, slender, and 
 well made, but stoops considerably; he looks at least ten years 
 older than he is, owing to the great fatigues he underwent in his 
 immortal campaign of Italy. His face is that of a profound thinker, 
 but bears no marks of that great enthusiasm and unceasing activity 
 by which he has been so much distinguished. It is rather, to my 
 mind, the countenance of a mathematician than of a general. He 
 has a fine eye, and a great firmness about the mouth; he speaks 
 lev and hollow. So much for his manner and figure. We had 
 not much discourse with him, and what little there was, was be- 
 tween him and Lewines, to whom, as our ambassador, I gave the 
 pas. We told him that Tennant was about to dei)art for Ireland, 
 and was ready to charge himself with his orders if he had any to 
 give. He desired us to bring him the same evening, and so we 
 
THEOBALD WOLFE TONK 189 
 
 took our leave. In the evening we returned with Tennant, and 
 Lewines had a good deal of conversation ^vith hiin, that is to say, 
 Lewines incensed him a good deal on Irish affcdrs, of which he ap- 
 pears a good deal uninformed : for example, he seems convinced 
 that our population is not more than two millions, which is non- 
 sense. Buonaparte listened, but said very little. When all this 
 was finished, he desired that Tennant might put off his departure 
 for a few days, and then turning to me, asked whether I 
 was not an adjutant-general. To which I answered, that I 
 had the honour to be attached to General Hoche in that 
 capacity. He then asked me where I had learned to speak 
 French. To which I replied, that I had learned the little that I 
 knew since my arrival in France, about twenty months ago. He 
 then desired us to return the next evenins; but one, at the same 
 hour, and so we parted. 
 
 December 23, — Called this evening on Buonaparte, by appoint- 
 ment, with Tennant and Lewines, and saw him for about five 
 minutes. Lewines gave him a copy of the memorials I delivered 
 to the government in February, 1796 (nearly two years ago), and 
 which, fortunately, have been well verified in every material fact 
 by every thing that has taken place in Ireland since. He also 
 gave him Taylor's map, and showed him half a dozen of Hoche's 
 letters, which Buonaparte read over. He then desired us to 
 return in two or three days, with such documents relating to 
 Ireland as we were possessed of; and, in the meantime, that 
 Tennant should postpone his departure. We then left him. His 
 manner is cold, and he speaks very little; it is not, however, so 
 dry as that of Hoche, but seems rather to proceed from languor 
 than any thing else. He is perfectly civil, however, to us; but, 
 from any thing we have yet seen or heard from him, it is im- 
 possible to augur any thing good or bad. We have now seen the 
 greatest man in Europe three times, and I am astonished to think 
 how little I have to record about him. I am sure I wrote ten 
 times as much about my first interview with Charles de la Croix, 
 but then I was a greenhorn: I am now a little used to see great 
 men, and great statesmen, and great generals, and that has, in 
 some degree, broke down my admiration. Yet, after all, it is a 
 droll thing that I should become acquainted with Buonaparte. 
 This time twelve months I arrived in Brest, from my expedition 
 to Bantry Bay. Well, the third time, they say, is the charm. 
 My next chance, I hope, will be with the Armee d' Angleterre — 
 Allans f Vive la lie publique ! I make no memorandums now at 
 all, which is grievous; but I have nothing to write. 
 
 January IS. — Saw Buonaparte this evening with Lewines, who 
 
190 LIFE OF 
 
 delivered him a whole slieaf of papers relative to Ireland, including 
 niy two memorials of 1795, great part of which stands good yet. 
 After Lewines had had a good deal of discourse with him, I 
 mentioned the affair of M'Kenna, who desires to be employed as 
 secretary. Buonaparte observed that he believed the world 
 thought he had fifty secretaries, whereas he had but one; of course 
 there was an end of that business; however, he bid me see what 
 tlie man was fit for, and let him know. I took this opportunity 
 to mention the desire all the refugee United Irishmen, now in 
 Paris, had to bear a part in the expedition, and the utility they 
 would be of in case of a landing in Ireland. He answered that 
 they would all be undoubtedly employed, and desired me to give 
 him in, for that purpose, a list of their names. Finally, I spoke 
 of myself, telling him that General Desaix had informed me that 
 I was carried on the tableau of the Arm6e d'Angleterre; he said 
 "I was." I then observed that I did not pretend to be of the 
 smallest use to him whilst we were in France, but that I hoped 
 to be serviceable to him on the other side of the water; that I did 
 not give myself to him at all for a military man, having neither 
 the knowledge nor the experience that would justify me in 
 charging myself with any function. '' Mais vous etes ht^ave," said 
 he, interrupting me. I replied that, when the occasion presented 
 itself, that would appear; " ^/i bien,'' said he, " ce/a suffit" We 
 then took our leave. 
 
 February 1. — The number of Irish refugees is considerably in- 
 creased. Independent of Lewines, Tennant, and Lowry, of whom I 
 have spoken, there are Teeling, of Lisburn; Orr, of Deny; M'Mahon, 
 of County Down; Macan and Burgess, of County Lowth; Napper 
 Tandy, and my brother. There is also one Maguire, who was s< nt 
 by Keynolds from Philadelphia, in consequence of my letter to him 
 by Monroe; and one Ashley, an Englishman, formerly secretary to 
 the corresponding society, and one of those who was tried by 
 Thomas Hardy, in London, for high treason. We all do very well, 
 except Napper Tandy, who is not behaving correctly. He began 
 some months ago by caballing against me with a priest of the name 
 of Quigley, who is since gone off, no one knows whither; the cir- 
 cumstances of this petty intrigue are not worth my recording. It 
 is sufficient to say that Tandy took on him to summon a meeting 
 of the Irish refugees, at wdiich Lewines and I were to be arraigned, 
 on I know not what charges, by himself and Quigley. Lewines 
 refused to attend, but I went; and when I appeared, there was no 
 one found to bring forward a charge against me, though I called 
 three times to know, "whether any person had anything to cdcr." 
 Ijj consequence of this manoeuvre, I have had no communication 
 
THEOBALD WOLFE TONE. 191 
 
 since with Tandy, who has also h)st ground, by this mean behaviour, 
 with all the rest of his countrymen; he is, I fancy, pestering the 
 government here with applications and memorials, and gives him- 
 self out for an okl officer, and a man of great property in Ireland, 
 as I judge from what General Murat said to me in speaking of 
 him the other night at Buonaparte's. He asked me did I know 
 one Tand}^, " tm ancien militaire, nest ce pas ?" I said I did know 
 him, but could not say that he was exactly " zm ancien militah^e, 
 as he had never served but in the volunteer corps of Irehmd, a 
 body which resembled pretty much the Garde nationale of France 
 at the beginning of the revolution." ''Mais cest un ires richepro- 
 prietairey I told him I believed he was always in easy circum- 
 stances; and there the discourse ended. By this I see how he is 
 throwing himself off here. He had of late a coadjutor in the 
 famous Thomas Muir, who arrived at Paris, and has inserted two 
 or three very foolish articles, relating to the United Irishmen, in 
 the Paris papers; in consequence of v/hich, at a meeting of the 
 United Irishmen, now in Paris, with the exception of Tandy, it 
 was settled that Lowry, Orr, Lewines, and myself, should wait 
 upon Muir, and after thanking him for his good intentions, entreat 
 him not to introduce our business into any publications which he 
 might hereafter think proper to make. Accordingly, we v/aited 
 on him a few days since; but of all the vain, obstinate blockheads 
 that ever I met, I never saw his equal. I could scarcely conceive 
 such a degree of self-sufficiency to exist. He told us roundly that 
 he knew as much of our country as we did, and would venture to 
 say he had as much the confidence of the United Irishmen as we 
 had; that he had no doubt we were very respectable individuals, 
 but could only know us as such, having shown him no powers or 
 written authority to prove that we had any mission. That he 
 seldom acted without due reflection, and when he had once taken 
 his party, it was impossible to change him; and that, as to what 
 he had written relative to the United Irishmen, he had the sanc- 
 tion of, he would say, the most respectable individual of that body, 
 who had, and deserved to have, their entire confidence and appro- 
 bation, and whose authority he must and did consider as justifying 
 every syllable he had advanced. This most respectable individual 
 of the body we presume to be Tandy; for we did not ask his name. 
 So that, after a discussion of nearly three hours, we were obliged 
 to come away re infectd, except that we gave Mr Muir notice that 
 he had neither license nor authority to speak in the name of the 
 people of Irehmd; and that if we saw any similar productions to 
 those of which we complniiied, we should be obliged to take 
 measures that would conduce neither to his ease uor respectability: 
 
192 LIFE OP 
 
 for that we could not suffer the public to be longer abused. Oil 
 these terms we parted very drily on both sides. The fact is, Muir 
 and Tandy are puffing one another here for their private advantage; 
 they are supporting themselves by endorsing each other's credit, 
 and issuing, if I may so say, accommodation bills of reputation. 
 This conversation has given the coup de grace to Tandy, with his 
 Countrymen here, and he is now in a manner completely in Coven- 
 try. He deserves it. These details are hardly worth writing, 
 but as there may be question of the business hereafter, I thought 
 I might as well put them down. 
 
 March 4- — On the 19th of February last, as I see in the Courier 
 of the 2Gth, Lord jMoira made a motion of great expectation in the 
 Irish House of Lords, tending to condemn the vigorous measures 
 which have been pursued by the British government in that 
 country, and to substitute a milder system. I was exceedingly 
 disappointed at his speech, which was feeble indeed, containing 
 little else than declamation, and scarcely a single fact, at a time 
 when thousands of crimes of the most atrocious nature have been 
 perpetrated for months over the whole face of the country. In 
 times like ours, half friends are no friends. A man in his situa- 
 tion, who can tell the truth with safety, or even with danger, and 
 does not, is a feeble character, and his support is not worth 
 receiving. He must speak out all boldly, or be silent. Independent 
 of this, which I cannot but consider as a timid and unmanly sup- 
 pression of facts, which at this great occasion especially, should be 
 sounded through Europe if possible, by every man having a drop 
 of genuine Irish blood in his veins, there is introduced a strained 
 compliment to the virtues of the king, and a most extravagant and 
 fulsome eulogium on the magnanimity of His Iloyal "Highness 
 George, Prince of Wales, which completely disgusted me. A 
 pretty time, indeed, to come out with a panegyric on the royal 
 virtues of the princely heir, when his ministers and his army are 
 laying the country waste with fire and sword. " I hate such half- 
 faced fellowship." His lordship, at the conclusion of this miJk 
 and water harangue, comes to his conciliatory plan, which is to 
 check the army in their barbarities, and to grant Catholic emanci- 
 pation and parliamentary reform. It is really amusing to see the 
 various shifts, and struggles and turns, and twists and wry faces, 
 the noble lord makes, before he can bring himself to sw.dlow this 
 last bitter pill. This kind of conduct will never do well at any 
 time, but it is downright folly in times like the present. His 
 lordship has mortally offended one party, and not at ail satisfied 
 the other, as will always be the case in similar circumstances. I 
 am sorry for all this, because I esteem him personally; politically I 
 
THEOBALD WOLFE TONE. 193 
 
 mast give him up, the more so, as he owjlii to have hiown hetter. 
 But if Lord Moira speaks in tliis half-and-half style, the chancellor 
 on the other side appears not to have been so reserved; he openly 
 calls the United Irishmen rebels, and says they should be treated 
 as such; he mentions me by name, as having been adjutant-general 
 in Hoche's expedition, and again in the armament in the Texel; 
 and says I am at this very moment an accredited envoy at Paris, 
 for that accursed society; who had also, as he is pleased to say, 
 their envoys at Lisle, by whose insidious and infernal machinations 
 it was that Lord Malmesbury's negotiation was knocked on the 
 head. He also makes divers commentaries on a well-known letter 
 written by me to my friend llussell, in 1791, and which, one way 
 or the other, he has brought regularly before the house at least 
 once a session ever since, and which figures in the secret report 
 made by Secretary Pelham, in the last one. From all these facts, 
 and divers others which he enumerates, he infers that the design 
 of the United Irishmen is to separate Ireland from Great Britain, 
 and that, consequently, all measures to destroy that infamous con- 
 spiracy, are fair and lawful; of which opinion the House of Lords 
 was also, Lord Moira's motion being rejected by a large majority. 
 I can hardly, I think, be suspected of partiality to the chancellor; 
 but I declare I have a greater respect for his conduct on this occa- 
 sion than for that of Lord Moira. He is at least an open and 
 avowed enemy; he takes his party, such as it is, like a man who 
 expects no quarter, and is therefore determined to give none. Had 
 Lord Moira brought as much sincerity to the attack on that 
 most atrocious of all governments, as the chancellor did to its de- 
 fence, though I am far from thinking he would have been able to 
 influence the decision of the House of Lords, he would at least 
 have been able to scandalize it to all Europe. Instead of that he 
 has trimmed, and by trimming has lost himself; for to repeat it 
 once more, in terrible times as ours now are, a man must speak 
 out the whole truth or be silent. There is no mean, especially 
 when, as in the case of Lord Moira, he may do it with perfect 
 safety to his person. But to return to my friend Fitzgibbon. 
 Though his speech be sincere, I cannot think it very wise under 
 all the circumstances of the case. If the people of Ireland had any 
 doubts as to the determination of the French Government to sup- 
 port them, ha has taken care to remove them all by dwelling on 
 the reception their envoys have met with here. 
 
 March 20. — It is with the most sincere concern and anxiety that 
 1 see in the late English papers that Arthur O'Connor has been 
 arrested at Margate, endeavouring to procure a passage for France; 
 the circumstances mentioned indicate a degree of rashness and in- 
 
 o 
 
194 lilFE OF 
 
 discretion on his part which is astonishing. It seems he set off 
 from London in company with four others, viz. : Quigley the priest, 
 ■who was some time since in Paris, and of whom I have no great 
 reason to be an admirer; Binns, of the corresponding society; Alley, 
 also of the corresponding society, and his servant of the name 
 of Leary. Quigley called himself at first Captain Jones, and 
 afterwards Colonel Morris; the others passed for his servants. 
 Their first attempt w^as at a place called Whitstable, where the 
 vigilance of the custom-house officers embarrassed them. They 
 then hired a cart, which they loaded with their trunks, of which 
 it seems they w^ere sufficiently provided, and crossed the country 
 on foot for twenty-five miles to Margate. It does not appear they 
 made much mystery of their destination; but be that as it may, 
 at Margate they were arrested by the Bow-street runners, Fugin 
 and Bivet, who had followed them a la piste from London. From 
 Margate they were brought back with their luggage to London, 
 where they were examined two or three successive days before the 
 Privy Council, and finally committed to the Tower. Since their 
 committal, several other persons have been arrested, particularly a 
 Colonel Despard, a Mr Bonham, a Mr Evans. It is inconceivable 
 that five men should attempt such an enterprize, and with such a 
 quantity of luggage; it is equally incredible that they should bring 
 papers with them, of which the newspapers say several have been 
 found; and especially one in the great coat pocket of Quigley, pur- 
 porting to be an address from the Executive Directory of England 
 to that of France, and desiring the latter to give credit to Quigley, 
 as being ''the worthy citizen whom they had lately seen." These 
 last expressions stagger me, or I should not believe it possible any 
 man living would leave a paper of such consequence in such a 
 careless, extraordinary place. Other newspapers, however, say 
 that no papers have been found, but the expressions above quoted 
 shake me a good deal. It is also said that O'Connor has said that 
 his friends may be easy about him, as he has nothing to fear. God 
 Bend it may be so, but I am afraid he will find it otherwise. 
 
 March ^Jo. — Received my letters of service from the war office 
 as adjutant-general in the Arm6e d'Angleterre. This has a lofty 
 sound, to be sure, but God knows the heart! Applied to the 
 minister at war for leave to remain a few days in Paris, to settle 
 my family, which he granted. 
 
 March 26. — I see in the English papers of March 17th, from 
 the Irish papers of the 13th, news of the most disastrous and 
 afflicting kind, as well for me individually as for the country at 
 large. The English government has arrested the whole committee 
 0^ United Jrishnieft for the province of Leinster^ including almost 
 
THEOBALD WOLFE TONE. l95 
 
 every man I know and esteem in the city of Dublin. Amongst 
 them are Emmet, M'Neven, Dr Sweetman, Bond, Jackson, and 
 his son; warrants are likewise issued for the arrestation of Lord 
 Edward Fitzgerald, M'Cormick, and Sampson; who have not, 
 however, yet been found. It is by far the most terrible blow 
 which the cause of liberty in Ireland has yet sustained. I know 
 not whether in the whole party it would be possible to replace 
 the energy, talents, and integrity, of which we are deprived by 
 this most unfortunate of events. I have not received such a 
 shock from all that has passed since I left Ireland. It is terrible 
 to think of in every point of view. Government will move 
 heaven and earth to destroy them. What a triumph at this 
 moment for Fitzgibbon. These arrestations, following so close on 
 that of O'Connor, give rise to very strong suspicions of treachery 
 in my mind. I cannot bear to write or think longer on this 
 dreadful event. Well, if our unfortunate country is doomed to 
 sustain the unspeakable loss of so many brave and virtuous 
 citizens, woe be to their tyrants if ever we reach our destination. 
 I feel ray mind growing every hour more and more savage. 
 Measures appear to me now justified by necessity, which, six 
 months ago, I would have regarded with horror. There is now 
 no medium. Government has drawn the sword, and will not 
 recede, but to superior force — if ever that force arrives. But it 
 does not signify threatening. Judge of my feelings as an indi- 
 vidual, when Emmet and Russell are in prison, and in imminent 
 peril of a violent and ignominious death. What revenge can 
 satisfy me for the loss of the two men I most esteem on earth ? 
 Well, once more, it does not signify threatening. If they are 
 sacrificed, and I ever arrive, as I hope to do, in Ireland, it will 
 not go well with their enemies. This blov/ has completely 
 deranged me — I can scarce write connectedly. 
 
 April 26, — I see in the Paris papers to-day extracts from 
 English ones, of a late date, by which it appears, as I suspected, 
 that the news of an insurrection in Ireland was, as yet, premature; 
 nevertheless, things in that country seem to be drawing fast to a 
 close. There is a proclamation of Lord Camden, which is tanta- 
 mount to a declaration of war; and the system of police, if police 
 it can be called, is far more atrocious than it ever was in France 
 in the time of the terreur. I see, also, in the papers, that Arthur 
 O'Conner is transferred to Maidstone, where his trial, and that of 
 the others, will come on immediately. I attend the result with 
 the most anxious expectation. Whatever may be O'Connor's fate, 
 he will at least sustain the dignity of bis situation, and, in the 
 worst event, he will bear it like a man. 
 
196 LIFE OF 
 
 April 27. — I am sadly off for intelligence here, having nothing 
 but the imperfect extracts in the Paris papers. What miserable 
 slaves are the gentry of Ireland! The only accusation brought 
 against the United Irishmen by their enemies is, that they wish 
 to break tlie connexion with England; or, in other words, to 
 establish the independence of their country; an object in which, 
 surely, the men of property are most interested. Yet the very 
 sound of independence seems to have terrified them out of all 
 sense, spirit, or honesty. If they had one drop of Irish blood in 
 their veins, one grain of true courage or genuine patriotism in 
 their hearts, they should have been the first to support this 
 great object; the people would have supported them; the English 
 government would never have dared to attempt the measures they 
 have since triumphantly pursued, and continue to 23ursue; our 
 ■revolution would have been accomplished without a shock, or, 
 perha})s, one drop of blood spilled; which now can succeed, if it 
 does succeed, only by all the calamities of a most furious and 
 sanguinary contest: for the war in Ireland, whenever it does take 
 place, will not be an ordinary one. The armies will regard each 
 other, not as soldiers, but as deadly enemies. Who, then, are to 
 blame for this*? The United Irishmen, who set the question 
 afloat, or the English government and their partizans; the Irish 
 genti'y who resist it. If independence be as good for a country, 
 as liberty for an individual, the question will be soon decided. 
 V/hy does England so pertinaciously resist our independence? Is 
 it for love of us — is it because s/ie thinks we are better as we are? 
 That single argument, if it stood alone, should determine every 
 honest Irishman, But, it will be said, the United Irishmen 
 extend their views farther; they go now to a distribution of 
 property, and an Agrarian law. I know not whether they do or 
 no. I am sure, in June, 1795, when I was forced to leave 
 the country, they entertained no such ideas. If they have 
 since taken root among them, the Irish gentry may accuse 
 themselves. 
 
 May 19. — I do not know what to think of our expedition. It 
 is certain that the whole left wing of the army of England is, at 
 this moment, in full march back to the Ehine; Buonaparte is, 
 God knows where, and the clouds seem thickening more and more 
 in Germany, v.'here I have no doubt Pitt is moving heaven and 
 hell to embroil matters, and divert the storm which was almost 
 ready to fall on his head. In the meantime, Treilhard, principal 
 negotiator at Rastadt, is elected into the vacant place in the 
 directory, in the room of Frangois de Neufchateau, and Sieys goes 
 to Berlin as ambassador extraordinary, taking Rastadt in his way. 
 
THEOBALD WOLfE TONE. 197 
 
 Perhaps we may be able to arrange matters; I look fur great 
 things from his talents and activity, 
 
 June 12. — Havre. — Yesterday I read in the French papers an 
 account of the acquittal of Arthur O'Connor at Maidstone, and of 
 his being taken instantly into custody again. Undoubtedly Pitt 
 means to send him to Ireland, in hopes of hnding there a more 
 complaisant jury. Quigley, the priest, is found guilty; it seems 
 he has behaved admirably well, which I confess was more than I 
 expected; his death redeems him. Alley, Bitms, and Leary, the 
 servant, are also acquitted and discharged. O'Conner appears to 
 have behaved with great intrepidit3^ On being taken into 
 custody, he addressed the judges, desiring to be sent to the same 
 dungeon with his brother; who, like him, was acquitted of high 
 treason; and, like him, was arrested in the very court. Tlie judge, 
 BuUer. answered him coldly, that their commission expired when 
 the sentence was pronounced, and that they could do nothing 
 farther in the business. He was instantly committed. My 
 satisfaction at this triumph of O'Conner is almost totally destroyed 
 by a second article in the same paper, which mentions that Lord 
 Edward Fitzgerald has been arrested in Thomas-street, Dublin, 
 after a most desperate resistance; in which himself, the magistrate, 
 one Swan, and captain Ryan, who commanded the guard, were 
 severely wounded. I cannot describe the effect which this 
 intelligence had on me; it brought on, almost immediately, a 
 spasm in my stomach, which confined me all day. I knew 
 Fitzgerald but very little, but I honour and venerate his character, 
 which he has uniformly sustained, and, in this last instance, 
 illustrated. What miserable wretches by his side are the gentry 
 of Ireland ! I would rather be Fitzgerald, as he is now, 
 wounded in his dungeon, than Pitt at the head of the British 
 Empire. What a noble fellow ! Of the first family in Ire- 
 land, with an easy fortune, a beautiful wife, and family of 
 lovely children, the certainty of a splendid appointment under 
 government if he would condescend to support their measures; 
 be has devoted himself wholly to the emancipation of his 
 country, and sacrificed everything to it, even to his blood. 
 Poor fellow. He is not the first Fitzgerald who has sacrificed 
 himself to the cause of his country. There is a wonderful 
 similarity of principle and fortune between him and his ancestor 
 Lord Thomas, in the reign of Henry VII., who lost his head on 
 Tower-hill, for a gallant, but fruitless attempt, to recover the in- 
 dependence of Ireland. God send the catastrophe of his noble 
 descendant be not the same. I dread everything for him, and my 
 only consolation is in speculations of revenge. If the blood of this 
 
198 LIFt OP 
 
 brave young man be shed by the hands of his enemies, it is no 
 ordinary vengeance which will content the people whenever the day 
 of retribution arrives. I cannot express the rage I feel at my own 
 helplessness at this moment; but what can I do ? Let me if pos- 
 sible think no more; it sets me half mad. 
 
 June 13. — I have been running over in my mind the list of my 
 friends, and of the men whom, without being so intimately con- 
 nected with them, I most esteem. Scarcely do I find one who is 
 not, or has not been, in exile or prison, and in jeopardy of his life. 
 To begin with Russell and Emmet, the two dearest of my friends, 
 at this moment in prison on a capital charge. M'Neven and J. 
 Sweetman, my old fellow-labourers in the Catholic cause; Edward 
 Fitzgerald, Arthur and Roger O'Connor, whom, though I know 
 less personally, I do not less esteem; Sampson, Bond, Jackson and 
 his son, still in prison; Robert and William Simms, the men in the 
 world to whose friendship I am most obliged, but just discharged^ 
 Neilson, Hazlitt, M'Cracken, the same; M'Cormick, absconded; 
 Rowan and Dr Reynolds in America; Lewines, Tennant, Lowry, 
 Hamilton, Teeling, Tandj', etc., and others, with whom I have 
 little or no acquaintance, but whom I must presume to be victims 
 of their patriotism, not to speak of my own family in France, 
 Germany, and elsewhere. Stokes disgraced on suspicion of virtue. 
 It is a gloomy catalogue for a man to cast his eyes over. Of all 
 my political connexions I see but John Keogh, who has escaped, and 
 how he has had that inconceivable good fortune, is to me a miracle. 
 June 17, 18. — The news I have received this morning, jjartly 
 by the papers, and partly by letters from my wife and brother, are 
 of the last importance. As I suspected, the brave and' unfortunate 
 Fitzgerald was meditating an attack on the capital, which was to 
 have taken place a few clays after that on which he was arrested. 
 He is since dead in prison; his career is finished gloriously for him- 
 self, and whatever be the event, his memory will live for ever in 
 the heart of every honest Irishman. He was a gallant fellow. 
 For us, who remain as yet, and may perhaps soon follow him> 
 the only way to lament his death is to endeavour to revenge it 
 Among his papers, it seems, was found the plan of the insurrec- 
 tion, the proclamation intended to be published, and several others, 
 by which those of the leaders of the people who have thus far 
 escaped, have been implicated, and several of them seized. Among 
 others, I see Tom Braughall; Lawless* son of Lord Cloncurry; 
 Ourran, son of the barrister; Chambers and P. Byrne, printers; 
 with several others, whom I cannot recollect. All this, including 
 the death of the brave Fitzgerald, has, it appears, but accelerated 
 matters; the insurrection has formally commenced in several couu- 
 
THEOBALD "WOLFE TONE. 199 
 
 ties of Leinster, especically Kildare and Wexford; the details in the 
 French papers are very imperfect, but I see there have been several 
 actions. At Monasterey, — iN'aas, Clain, and Prosperous, the three 
 last immediately in my ancient neighbourhood, there have been 
 skirmishes generally, as is at first to be expected, to the advantage 
 of the army; at Prosperous the Cork Militia were surprised and 
 defeated. The villains — to bear arms against their country. Kill- 
 cullen is burnt; at Carlo\v,four hundred Irish, it is said, were killed; 
 at Castledermot, fifty; in return, in county Wexford, where appears 
 to be their principal force, they have defeated a party of six hundred 
 English, killed three hundred, and the commander. Colonel Wal- 
 pole, and taken five pieces of cannon. This victory, small as it is, 
 will give the people courage, and show them that a red coat is no 
 more invincible than a grey one. 
 
 June 19. — This evening, at five, set off for Rouen, having taken 
 leave of General Bethencourt last night, who loaded me with 
 civilities. 
 
 June 20. — To-day is my birth-day. I am thirty-five years of 
 age; more than half the career of my life is finished, and how little 
 have I yet been able to do. Well, it has not been, at l^ast, for 
 want of inclination, and, I may add, for want of efforts. I had 
 hopes, two years ago, that, at the period I write this, my debt to 
 my country would have been discharged, and the fate of Ireland 
 settled for good or evil. To-day it is more uncertain than ever. 
 I think, however, I may safely say, I have neglected no step to 
 which my duty called me; and, in that conduct, I will persist to 
 the last. Called this morning on General Grouchy — I find him 
 full of ardour for our business; he has read all the details, and 
 talks of going to Paris in two or three days, to press the directory 
 upon that subject. His idea is to try an embarkation aboard the 
 corvettes and privateers of Nantes; on which, he thinks, at least 
 3000 men, with 20,000 muskets, can be stowed; and he speaks as 
 if he meant to apply for the command of this little armament. 
 What would I not give that he should succeed in the application. 
 I once endeavoured to be of service to General Grouchy, when I 
 saw him unjustly misrepresented, after our return from Bantry Bay, 
 and he does not seem to have forgotten it: for nothing could be 
 more friendly and affectionate than his reception of me to-day. 
 Quigley has been executed, and died like a hero ! If ever I reach 
 Ireland, and that we establish our liberty, I will be the first to 
 propose a monument to his memory; his conduct at the hour of 
 his death clears everything: — " Nothing in his life became him like 
 the leaving of it." If the Irish can hold out till winter, I h;ive 
 every reason to hope thai the French will assist them effectually. 
 
200 LIFE OF THEOBALD WOLFE TONE. 
 
 All I dread is, tbat they may be overpowered before that time, 
 What a state my mind is in at this moment ! 
 
 June 30. — Having determined to set off for Paris, in consequence 
 of the late news from Ireland, I got leave of absence for a fortnight, 
 from General Kilmaine. My adjoint. Citizen Favory, called on 
 me the next morning after my arrival, to inform me that the 
 minister of war had despatched an order for me to come to Paris 
 in ;ij1 haste, I waited upon him in consequence. He told me it 
 was the minister of marine who had demanded me, and gave me, 
 at the same timej a letter of iutroductiou for him. 
 
201 
 
 NAERATIVE 
 
 OF 
 
 THE THIRD AND LAST EXPEDITION 
 
 FOR THE LIBERATION OF IRELAND; 
 
 AND OF 
 
 THE CAPTURE, TRIAL, AND DEATH OF 
 
 THEOBALD WOLFE TONE. 
 
 BY THE EDITOR, HIS SON. 
 
 In order to give a clear and full narrative of the third and last 
 expedition for the deliverance of Ireland, it will be necessary to 
 ascend somewhat higher. When Carnot, the only able and honest 
 man in the councils of the directory, was proscribed, and when 
 General Hoche died, the friends of a revolution in that island lost 
 every chance of assistance from France. Those two great states- 
 men and warriors, earnest in the cause, of which they perceived 
 the full importance to the interests of their country, ami to the 
 extension of republican principles, had planned the expeditions of 
 Bantry Bay, and of the Texel, on the largest and most efTicitive 
 scale which the naval resources of France and Holland could 
 afford. The former failed partly by the misconduct of the navy, 
 and partly by the indecision of Grouchy, of that lionest but 
 wavering man who twice held the fate of Europe in his hands, at 
 Bantry Bay and at Waterloo, and twice let it slip through them, 
 from want of resolution. The second failed only through the 
 fault of the elements. 
 
 On the death of Hoche, the French government recalled, to 
 succeed him, the most illustrious of their warriors ; he who 
 afterwards wielded the destinies of Europe, and who then, under 
 the name of General Buonaparte, was already acknowledged the 
 first commander of the age : and yet it was an age fertile in great 
 chiefs. But he who, before the age of thirty, had already achieved 
 the immortal campaigns of Italy ; subdued that beautiful country; 
 founded one republic (the Cisalpine), and extinguished another 
 
202 LIFE OP 
 
 (Venice) ; humbled the power of Austria, and compelled her, by 
 his private authority, to liberate La Fayette from the dungeons of 
 Olmutz,''' and acknowledged the French republic by the treaty of 
 Canipo Formio, was more than a mere general. It is, however, 
 with extreme reluctance that I feel myself called upon, by the 
 nature of my subject, to point out any errors in the conduct of 
 the sovereign, chief, and benefactor, under whom I bore my first 
 arms and received my first wounds ; of him who decorated me 
 with the insignia of the leigon of honour, and whom I served 
 with constant fidelity and devotion to the last moment of his 
 reign. But the imperious voice of truth compels me to attribute 
 to the influence and prejudices of General Buonaparte, at that 
 period, the prime cause of the failure of the third expedition for 
 the liberation of Ireland. 
 
 The loss of Hoche was irreparable to the Irish cause. 
 Although he died in the prime of his youth — and his deeds, 
 eclipsed by those of his still greater rival, are now nearly forgotten 
 — at that period they were competitors in glory and formed twj 
 opposite parties in the army. The generals and officers of the 
 two schools continued for a long time to view each other with 
 dislike. Both these great men were ambitious; both eager for 
 their personal fame, and for that of France; and bent on raising 
 her to an unequalled rank amongst nations. But Hoche was an 
 ardent and sincere republican; he could sacrifice his own hopes 
 and prospects to the cause of liberty, as he nobly proved, when 
 he resigned to Daendels the command of the Texel expedition. 
 Buonaparte always associated in his mind the power of France 
 and his own aggrandizement; nor could he be satisfied with her 
 being raised to the pinnacle of power and prosperity, unless he 
 was the guide of her march and the ruler of her destinies. 
 Admirably formed by nature for a great administrator and 
 organizer, he meditated already in his mind those vast creations 
 which he afterwards accomplished, and which required an un- 
 limited authority for their execution; he loved the prompt 
 obedience and regulated order of absolute power; and felt a 
 secret dislike to the tumultuous and wavering conflicts of a 
 republican government, whose energy is so frequently counter- 
 acted by the disunion of its parties, and the necessity of persuad- 
 ing instead of commanding. In short, he never was a republican. 
 This feeling he could scarcely disguiso, even then, when it was 
 most necessary to conceal it: for no man who ever rose to such 
 
 * The directory were so far from approving of this noble act, tliat they would not even 
 allow La Fayette to return to France. It was not till Najioleon became firbt consul, and was 
 thereby enabled to grant this permission, that it was obtained. It was one of the first 
 acts of his adininistrafaoa. 
 
THEOBALD "WOLFE TONE. 203 
 
 power, perhaps, ever made so little use of dissimulation. Stern, 
 reserved, and uncommunicative, he repelled with haughty disdain 
 the advances of the Jacobins; and the Emperor Napoleon, tlie 
 future sovereign and conqueror, might already be discerned in the 
 plain and austere general of the republic.'^ 
 
 But circumstances, '^t this precise period, rendered that conduct 
 the best which he could pursue. The enthusiasm of democracy 
 was extinct in France; the people were weary of the successive 
 revolutions which had placed so many weak and worthless 
 characters at the head of affairs, and longed for the firm hand and 
 the bit and bridle of a ruler. The mean and rapacious members 
 of the directory, who, in expelling their colleague Carnot, had 
 driven all credit and respectability from their councils, sought 
 support, and thought to make this young and popular chief their 
 instrument. He was courted by every party. He felt, however, 
 the public pulse, and judged that a premature attempt would be 
 hopeless. It was then that, giving up, for the moment, his 
 designs in Europe, he began to meditate a brilliant project for his 
 personal glory and aggrandizement in the East: a plan to re- 
 generate those regions, and be the founder of a new empire by 
 means of the victorious arms of France. This plan was only 
 defeated by the battle of the Nile, and the resistance of St. Jean 
 d'Acre. 
 
 To the enterprise against Ireland, the favourite object of Hoche, 
 and to prosecute which he was ostensibly recalled, he felt a secret 
 but strong repugnance. Though the liberation of that coiintry 
 might prostrate for ever the power of England, and raise the 
 republic to the pinnacle of fortune (a circumstance for which he 
 did not yet wish, as it would render his services needless), it 
 offered no prospects of aggrandizement to him; it strengthened 
 that republican cause which he disliked; and the principles of the 
 Irish leaders, when he investigated the business, appeared to hiui 
 too closely allied to those of the Jacobins. Neither did he ever 
 sufficiently appreciate the means and importance of that country; 
 his knowledge of it, as may be seen in my father's memoirs, was 
 slight and inaccurate. The directors, who began to fear him, and 
 wished to get rid of him, entered willingly into his views, when he 
 proposed to use this expedition only as a cover, and direct their real 
 efforts to the invasion of Egypt. It is asserted that he said, on the 
 occasion, " What more do you desire from the Irish? You see that 
 their movements already operate a powerful diversion." Like every 
 selfish view, I think this was a narrow one. The two most miserable 
 
 * He was the first man who dared to drive from his doors tlie " dames de la halle," or 
 fish-women of Paris, when they came to congratulate him on his victories. One must be 
 familiar with the history of the Revolution to appreciate this fact. 
 
204 LIFE OF 
 
 and oppressed countries of Europe always looked up to Napoleoti for 
 their liberation. He never gratified their hopes; yet, by raising 
 Ireland, he might have crushed for ever the power of England; 
 and, by assisting Poland, placed a curb on Russia. He missed 
 both objects, and finally fell under the efforts of Russia and of 
 England. And it may be observed, as a singular retribution, that 
 an Irishman conmianded the army which gave the last blow to his 
 destinies. 
 
 When my father was presented to him, and attached to his 
 army as adjutant-general, he received him with cold civility, but 
 entered into no communications. His plans were already formed. 
 Ostensibly a great force was organised on the western coasts of 
 France, under the name of the army of England; but the flower of 
 the troops were successively withdrawn and marched to the Medi- 
 terranean; the eyes of Europe were fixed on these operations, but, 
 from their eccentricity, their object could not be discovered. My 
 father, despatched, as may be seen in his journals, to head-quarters 
 at Rouen, and employed in unimportant movements on the coast, 
 in the bombardment of Havre, etc., heard with successive pangs of 
 disappointment that Buonaparte had left Paris for the south; that 
 he had arrived at Toulon; that he had embarked and sailed with a 
 powerful expedition in the beginning of June. But his destination 
 remained as mysterious as ever. General Kilmaine was left in 
 command of the disorganised relics of the army of England, from 
 whence all the best troops were withdrawn. That officer, an Irish- 
 man by birth, and one of the bravest generals of the army of Italy, 
 whose cavalry he commanded in the preceding campaigns, was, 
 from the shattered state of his health and constitution, unfit to 
 conduct any active enterprise. 
 
 When Buonaparte departed from the coast of France, all fortune 
 and conduct seemed to disappear with him from the councils of the 
 republic. The directors were neither cruel ncu' bloody, like the 
 government which had preceded them. But the Jacobins, though 
 they might well be feared and hated, could not be despised. The 
 rapacity of the directors disgusted all the friends and allies of 
 France; their prodigality wasted its resources — their weakness 
 encouraged its internal enemies — their improvidence and incapacity 
 disorganised its armies and fortresses, and left them defenceless 
 auaiust the revivintr efforts of adversaries who were humbled, but 
 not subdued. Suwarrow and Prince Charles soon turned the fate 
 of arms; Austria re-entered the lists; and, in the short space of about 
 two years, the very existence of that republic, which Hoche and 
 Napoleon had left triumphing and powerful, was in jeopardy; her 
 conquests were gone, her treasury was empty, her armies were 
 
THEOBALD WOLFE TONE. 205 
 
 naked, disorganised, and flying on all sides. Such was the state of 
 France when the conqueror of Egypt returned to save and restore it. 
 In the meantime, the Irisli Cabinet succeeded in its infernal 
 purpose of driving the people to premature insurrection. The 
 leaders of the United Irishmen had organised a plan for a general 
 rising. But traitors were found in their councils; they were all 
 arrested; the gallant Lord Edward Fitzgerald killed, and the 
 capital secured. Nevertheless, the exasperated peasantry in Kil- 
 dare, Carlow, and some districts in the north, rose in arms against 
 the intolerable excesses of the soldiery Cjuartered upon them. But 
 these partial insurrections of naked crowds, without arms or leaders, 
 without union or concert, which my father had so often deprecated, 
 could lead to no result. They were successively crushed by the over- 
 powering forces directed against them, and the reign of terror w-is 
 established without check or limitation. The state of Frai:oe, 
 in the worst days of Robespierre, was never more prostrate, nor 
 did its government pursue its bloody measures with a more un- 
 sparing hand. The whole population were abandoned to the 
 absolute discretion of an infuriated, licentious, and undisciplined 
 soldiery; the meanest agents of authority exercised a power with- 
 out control; individuals were half-hanged, whipped, and picketed, 
 to extort confession without trial, in the very capita], in the courts 
 of the castle, and under the roof of the viceroy; the country 
 blazed with nightly conflagration, and resounded with the shrieks 
 of torture; neither age nor sex were spared, and the bayonets of the 
 military drove men, women, and children, naked and houseless, to 
 starve in the bogs and fastnesses ; those who trusted to the faith 
 of capitulations were surrounded and slaughtered by dragoons in 
 the very act of laying down their arms ; and no citizen, however 
 innocent or inoffensive, could deem himself secure from informers 
 The noble resistance of the small county of Wexford deserves 
 to be particularly noticed. It was such as to alarm for a moment 
 the Irish government about the success of their measures. That 
 little district, comprising about 150,000 souls, surrounded by the 
 sea and mountains, and secluded from the rest of the island, had 
 imbibed but a small share of the prevailing revolutionary spirit, 
 for its population had not much communication with their neigh- 
 bours, and were remarkably quiet and happy. It is stated by ]\Ir 
 Edward Hay, that before the insurrection, it did not contain 
 above two hundred United Irishmen. It may, perhaps, have 
 been deemed, from this very circumstance, that if an insurrection 
 could be provoked within its limits, the people less organized and 
 prepared than in the districts of the north, would be subdued 
 more easily, and afi'ord, \yith less risk, a striking example to the 
 
206 LIFE OF 
 
 rest of the island. The soldiery were let loose, and committed 
 for some time every excess on the innocent peasantry. A noble 
 lord, who commanded a regiment of militia, was distinguished by 
 the invention of the pitch cap ; another officer, worthy to serve 
 under him, by the appellation of ''The Walking Gallows." But 
 why recall facts which are engraved on the hearts and in the 
 memory of every Irishman ? At length, goaded to madness, the 
 Wexfordians, to the number of 20 or 30,000, rose in arms, with 
 pikes, staves, and scythes, and, in two or three actions, seized on 
 the chief towns, and drove the soldiery out of the county. Their 
 moderation towards their persecutors, in the moment of victory, 
 was as remarkable as their courage in the field. Their forbear- 
 ance, and even their delicate and chivalrous generosity towards 
 the ladies and families of the aristocracy who fell into their hands, 
 was most amiable and admirable.* The noble lord above 
 mentioned was taken, and even he was rescued by their leaders 
 from the infliction of the pitch cap, which he so well deserved. 
 In recompense, he engaged, on the close of the insurrection, to 
 obtain a capitulation for them, if they would let him loose, and 
 afterwards sat on the court martial which condemned them to be 
 hanged. It required all the means and all the efforts of the Irish 
 government to subdue this small district. At one time, they 
 trembled in the walls of Dublin, lest the Wexfordians should 
 penetrate there. Several battles were fought, with varied 
 success; and it was not till the royal forces surrounded them 
 on all sides, that they broke through their toils, and threw 
 themselves into the mountains of Wicklow, where their leaders 
 successively capitulated. Provoked and irritated as these 
 innocent people were, it is remarkable that only two instances of 
 cruelty, the massacre of their prisoners at Scullabogue, and on the 
 Bridge of Wexford, occurred on their side during the insurrection. 
 And these were both perpetrated by runaways from their main 
 army, whilst the remainder were fighting. 
 
 The indignation of the unfortunate Irish was just and extreme 
 against that French Government which had so repeatedly promised 
 them aid, and now appeared to desert them in their utmost need. 
 When Lord Cornwallis, who was sent shortly after to put an end 
 to the system of terror, which desolated the gountry, succeeded to 
 the vice-royalty, 2000 volunteers from this very county of Wexford 
 ^)ffered their services to fight the French, and formed the flower of 
 the British army which invaded Egypt under General Abercrombie. 
 Their petition, a model of native simplicity, energy, and indigna- 
 
 * The comment of some patrician ladies on this forbearance was, "That the croppi^ 
 
 itranted ffallantrv," 
 
Theobald wolfe tone. 20? 
 
 tion, is recorded in the appendix of Hay's History of the Wexford 
 Insurrection. 
 
 But weak and improvident as the directors were, tliey must be 
 acquitted of the charge of betraying their allies. The fact was, 
 that their treasury and arsenals were empty, the flower of their 
 army and navy were gone to Egypt, the remainder were totally 
 disorganised; in short, when the insurrection broke out in Ireland, 
 they were entirely unprepared to assist it. Their indolence and 
 incapacity had suffered everything to fall to decay, and their pecu- 
 lations and profusion had wasted their remaining means. The 
 feelings of my father on the occasion may be more easily conceived 
 than expressed. On the 20th of May, Buonaparte had embarked 
 from Toulon. On the 23rd, the insurrection broke out. As the 
 news of each arrest, and of each action, successively reached France, 
 he urged the generals and government to assist the gallant and 
 desj)erate struggle of his countrymen; and pressed on them the ne- 
 cessity of availing themselves of the favourable opportunity which 
 flew so rapidly by. They began their preparations without delay; 
 but money, arms, ammunition, and ships, all were wanting. By 
 the close of June, the insurrection was nearly crushed, and it was 
 not till the beginning of July that my father was called up to Paris 
 to consult with the ministers of the war and navy departments on 
 the organisation of a new expedition. At this period his Journal 
 closes; and the public papers, my mother's recollections, and a few 
 private letters, are my sole documents for the remaining events. 
 
 The plan of the new expedition was to despatch small detach- 
 ments from several ports, in the hope of keeping up the insurrec- 
 tion, and distracting the attention of the enemy, until some 
 favourable opportunity should occur for landing the main body, 
 under General Kilmaine. General Humbert, with about 1000 men, 
 was quartered for this purpose at Rochelle; General Hardy, with 
 3000, at Brest; and Kilmaine, with 9000, remained in reserve. 
 This plan was judicious enough, if it had been taken up in 
 time. But long before the first of these expeditions was ready to 
 sail, the insurrection was completely subdued in every quarter; the 
 people were crushed, disarmed, disheartened, and disgusted with 
 their allies; and the Irish Government had collected all its means, 
 and was fully prepared for the encounter. Refugees from that 
 unfortunate country, of every character and description, arrived in 
 crowds, with their blood boiling from their recent actions and 
 sufferings. When they saw the slowness of the French prepara- 
 tions, they exclaimed, that they wanted nothing but arms, and that, 
 if the government would only land them again on the coast, the 
 people themselves, without any aid, would suffice to reconquer their 
 
208 LIFE OF 
 
 liberty. This party, more gallant than wise, were chiefly led by an 
 old sufferer in the cause, James Napper Tandy. Their zeal was often 
 indiscreet and unenlightened, and they did more mischief than good. 
 Napper Tandy boasted that 30,000 would rise in arms on his ap- 
 pearance; and the directory was puzzled by these declarations, which 
 contradicted my father's constant assertion, that 10,000 or 15,000 
 French troops would be absolutely necessary in the beginning of 
 the contest. 
 
 The final ruin of the expedition was hurried by the precipitancy 
 and indiscretion of a brave, but imprudent and ignorant officer. 
 This anecdote, which is not generally known, is a striking instance 
 of the disorder, indiscipline, and disorganization, which began to 
 prevail in the French army. Humbert, a gallant soldier of for- 
 tune, but whose heart was better than his head, impatient of the 
 delays of his government, and fired by the recitals of tfiie Irish 
 refugees, determined to begin the enterprise on his own responsi- 
 bility, and thus oblige the directory to second or to desert him. 
 Towards the middle of August, calling on the merchants and 
 magistrates of Eochelle, he forced them to advance a small sum of 
 money, and all that he wanted, on military requisition ; and 
 embarking on board a few frigates and transports, with 1000 
 men, 1000 spare muskets, 1000 guineas, and a few pieces of 
 artillery, he compelled the captains to set sail for tlie most 
 desperate attempt which is, perhaps, recorded in history''. Three 
 Irishmen accompanied him ; my uncle, Matthew Tone, Bartholmew 
 Teeling of Lisburn, and Sullivan, nephew to Madgett, whose 
 name is often mentioned in these memoirs. On the 22d of 
 August they made the coast of Connaught, and landing in the 
 bay of Killala, immediately stormed and occupied that little town. 
 
 Strange and desperate as was this enterprise, had it been 
 prosecuted with the same spirit and vivacity with which it was 
 begun, it might have succeeded ; and Humbert, an obscure and 
 uneducated soldier, have effected a revolution, and crowned his 
 name with immortal glory. The insurrection was scarcely 
 appeased, and its embers might soon have been blown into a 
 flame ; but, landing in a distant, wild, and isolated corner of the 
 island, instead of pressing rapidly at once, as he was strongly 
 advised, to the mountains of Ulster, the centre of the United 
 Irish organization, and calling the people to arms, he amused 
 liimself, during a fortnight, in drilling the peasantry of the neigh- 
 bourhood who flocked to his standard, and enjoying the hospitality 
 of the bishop of Killala. That prelate rendered a most signal 
 service to the Irish government by thus detaining the French 
 general. At the battle of Castlebar, he defeated a numerous corps, 
 
THEOBALD WOLFE TONE. 209 
 
 •which had been directed, in all haste, against him, under General 
 Lake. On this occasion, I have heard, but cannot vouch for the 
 authenti("ity of the anecdote, that, as soon as his Irish auxiliaries 
 had fired their muskets, they flung them away as useless, and 
 rushed to the charge with their pikes. For a few days a general 
 panic picvailed ; but the viceroy, Cornwallis, marched in person ; 
 all the forces of the kingdom were put in motion, and Humbert 
 was speedily surrounded, and confined behind the Shannon, by 
 twenty times his numbers. At length he perceived the trap into 
 which he had fallen ; and attempted, what he should have done 
 at first, to force his way over that river, and throw himself into 
 the mountains of the North. But encircled, on the Sth of Sep- 
 tember, at Ballinamuck, by an entire arnu^, his small band, after 
 a gallant resistance, were compelled to lay down their arms. The 
 French were received to composition, and shortly exchanged; but 
 the Irish were slaughtered without mercy; and the cruelties after- 
 wards exercised on the unresisting peasantry, will render the 
 name of General Lake remembered for ages in those remote 
 districts of Connaught. Of the Irish, who had accompanied 
 Humbert, Sullivan escaped, under the disguise of a Frenchman, 
 and INIatthew Tone and Teeling were brought in irons to Dublin; 
 tried, and executed. 
 
 The news of Humbert's attempt, as may well be imagined, 
 threw the directory into the greatest perplexity. They instantly 
 determined, however, to hurry all their preparations, and send off 
 at least the division of General Hardy, to second his efforts, as 
 soon as possible. The report of his first advantages, which 
 shortly reached them, augmented their ardour and accelerated 
 their movements. But such was the state of the French navy 
 and arsenals, that it was not until the 20th of Se[)tember that 
 this small expedition, consisting of one sail of the line and eight 
 frigates, under Commodore Bompart, and 3000 men, uiuh^r 
 General Hardy, was ready for sailing. The news of Humbert's 
 defeat had not yet reached France. 
 
 Paris was then crowded with Irish emigrants, eairer for action. 
 In the papers of the day, and in later productions, I have seen it 
 mentioned that no fewer than twenty-four United Irish leaders 
 embarked in General Hardy's expedition; and Lewines, an agent 
 of the United Irish in Paris, is sppcified by name. This account 
 is erroneous. The mass of the United Irishman embarked in a 
 small and fast sailing boat, with Napper Tandy at their head. 
 They reached, on the 11th September, the Isle of llaghlin, on the 
 north-west coast of Ireland, where they heard of Humbert's 
 disaster; they merely spread some proclamations, and escaped to 
 
210 LIFE OF 
 
 Norway. Three Irishmen only accompanied my father in Hardy's 
 flotilla: he alone was embarked in the admiral's vessel, the Hoche; 
 the others were on board the frigates. These were Mr T. Corbett 
 and M'Guire, two brave officers, who have since died in the 
 French service, and a third gentleman, connected by marriage 
 with his friend Kussell, who is yet living, and whose name it 
 wonld, therefore, be improper in me to mention. 
 
 In Curran's Life, by his son, I find an anecdote mentioned 
 which must have been derived from the authority of this gentle- 
 man. It is stated, that on the night previous to the sailing of 
 the expedition, a question rose amongst the United Irishmen 
 engaged in it, whether, in case of their falling into the enemy's 
 hands, they should suff^ themselves to be put to death, according 
 to the sentence of the law, or anticipate their fate by their own 
 hands? That Mr Tone maintained, with his usual eloquence and 
 animation, that, in no point of view in which he had ever con- 
 sidered suicide, he could hold it to be justifiable; that one of the 
 company suggested that, from political considerations, it would be 
 better not to relieve, by any act of self-murder, the Irish govern- 
 ment from the discredit in which numerous executions would 
 involve it: an idea which Mr Tone highly approved. This 
 anecdote is substantially correct; but the gentleman did not 
 understand my father. 
 
 At the period of this expedition, he was hopeless of its success, 
 and in the deepest despondency at the prospect of Irish aff'airs. 
 Such was the wretched indiscretion of the government, that before 
 his departure, he read himself in the Bien Informe, 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 embarked on board the Hoche. There was, therefore, 
 no hope of secrecy. He had all along deprecated the idea of 
 those 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; he saw no chance of 
 Kihnaine's large expedition being ready in any space of time, and 
 therefore determined to accompany Hardy. His resolution was, 
 however, deliberately and inflexibly taken, in case he fell into the 
 \iands of the enemy, never to saff"er the indignity of a public 
 execution. He did not consider this as suicide — an act which, 
 in usual cases, he regarded as a weakness or frenz}', but 
 merely as choosing the mode of his death. And, indeed, 
 his constitutional and nervous sensitiveness, at the slightest 
 idea of personal indignity, would have sufficed to determine 
 him never to bear the touch of an executioner. It was at dinner, 
 
THEOBALD WOLFE TONE. 211 
 
 in our own house, and in my mother's presence, a little before 
 leaving Paris, that the gentleman above mentioned proposed 
 that the Irish should leave to the government all the shame and 
 odium of their execution. The idea struck hiui as ludicrous, and 
 he applauded it highly: " My dear friend," he said, "say nothing 
 more, you never spoke better in your life." And after the gentle- 
 man's departure he laughed very heartily at his idea of shaming 
 the Irish government by allowing himself to be hanged; adding, 
 that he did not at all understand people mooting the point, 
 whether they should or should not choose their own death, or 
 consulting on such an occasion. That he would never advise others, 
 but that, " please God, they should never have his poor bones to 
 pick." This conversation may have been repeated at Brest, but 
 such were certainly my father's feelings on the subject. 
 
 At length, about the 20th of September, 1798, that fatal expe- 
 dition set sail from the Bay de Camaret. It consisted of the 
 Hoche, 74; Loire, Resolue, Beilone, Coquille, Embuscade, Immor- 
 tality, Romaine, and Semillante frigates; and Biche, schooner, and 
 aviso. To avoid the British fleets, Bompart, an excellent seaman, 
 took a large sweep to the westward; and then to the north-east, in 
 order to bear down on the northern coast of Ireland, from the 
 quarter whence a French force would be least expected. He met, 
 however, with contrary winds, and it appears that his flotilla was 
 scattered; for, on the 10th of October, after twenty days' cruise, 
 he arrived off the entry of Loch Swilly, with the Hoche, the Loire, 
 the Eesolue, and the Biche. He was instantly signalled; and on 
 the break of day next morning, 11th of October, before he could 
 enter the bay, or land his troops, he perceived the squadron of Sir 
 John Borlase Warren, consisting of six sail of the line, one razee of 
 sixty guns, and two frigates, bearing down upon him. There was 
 no chance of escape for the large and heavy man-of-war. Bompart 
 gave instant signals to the frigates and schooner to retreat through 
 shallow water, and prepared alone to honour the flag of his country 
 and liberty by a desperate but hopeless defence. At that moment, 
 a boat came from the Biche for his last orders. That ship had 
 the best chance to get off. The French officers all supplicated my 
 father to embark on board of her. " Our contest is hopeless," they 
 observed; "we will be prisoners of war, but what will become of 
 your " Shall it be said," replied he, "that I fled, whilst the 
 French were fighting the battles of my country V He refused their 
 offers, and determined to stand and fall with the ship. The Biche 
 accomplished her escape, and I see it mentioned in late publica- 
 tions, that other Irishmen availed themselves of that occasion. 
 This fact is incorrect; not one of them would have done so; 
 
212 LIFE OF 
 
 and besides, my father was the only Irishman on board of the 
 Hoche. 
 
 The British admiral despatched two men-of-war, the razee, and 
 a frigate, nt'ter the Loire and Iicsolue; and the Hoche was soon 
 surrounded by four sail of the line and a frigate, and began one of 
 the most obstinate and desperate engagements which have ever 
 been fought on the ocean. During six hours she sustained the 
 fire of a whole fleet, till her masts and rigging were swept away, 
 her scuppers flowed with blood, her wounded filled the cock pit, 
 her shattered ribs yawned at each new stroke, and let in five feet of 
 water in the hold, her rudder was carried off, and she floated a dis- 
 mantled wreck on the waters; her sails and cordage hung in shreds, 
 nor could she reply with a single gun from her dismounted batteries 
 to the unabatingcannonade of the enemy. Atlength she struck. The 
 Resolue and Loire were soon reached by the English fleet; the former 
 was in a sinking condition; she made, however, an honourable defence; 
 the Loire sustained three attacks, drove off the English frigates, 
 and had almost effected her escape; at length, engaged by the 
 Anson, razee of sixty guns, she struck after an action of three 
 hours, entirely dismasted. Of the other frigates, pursued in all 
 directions, the Bellone, Immortality, Coquille, and Embuscade 
 were taken; and the Romaine and Semillante, through a thousand 
 dangers, reached separate ports in France. 
 
 During the action, my father commanded one of the batteries, 
 and according to the report of the officers who returned to 
 France, fought with the utmost desperation, and as if he was 
 courting death. When the ship struck, confounded with the 
 other officers, he was not recognized for some time; for he had 
 completely acquired the language and appearance of a Frenchman. 
 The two fleets were dispersed in every direction, nor was it till 
 some days later, that the Hoche was brought into Loch Swilly, 
 and the }irisoners landed and marched to Letterkenny. Yet 
 rumours of his being on board must have been circulated, for the 
 fact was public at Paris. But it was thought he had been killed 
 ill the action, and I am willing to believe that the British officers, 
 respecting the valour of a fallen enemy, were not earnest in 
 investigating the point. It was at length a gentleman, well 
 known in the county of Derry as a leader of the Orange party, 
 and one of the chief mafristrates in that neighbourhood. Sir 
 George Hill, who had been his fellow-student in Trinity College, 
 and knew his person, who undertook the task of discovering him. 
 It is known that in Spain, grandees and noblemen of the first 
 rank pride themselves iti the functions of familiars, spies, and 
 informers of the Holy Inquisition; it rcm^dnecl for Ireland to 
 
THEOBALD WOLFE TONE. 213 
 
 offer a similar example. The French officers were invited to 
 breakfast with the Earl of Cavan, who commanded in that district; 
 my father sat undistinguished amongst them when Sir George 
 Hill entered the room, followed by police officers. Looking 
 narrowly at the com[)any, he singK^d (u;t the object of his search, 
 and stepping up to liim, said, "^Ir '^i'oii;', I am very happy to see 
 you." Instantly rising, with the utmost composure, and disdain- 
 ing all useless attempts at concealment, my father replied, "Sir 
 George, I am happy to see you; how are Lady Hill and your 
 family?" Beckoned into the next room by the police officers, an 
 unexpected indignity awaited him. It was filled with military, 
 and one General Lavau, who commanded them, ordered him to 
 be ironed, declaring that, as on leaving Ireland, to enter the 
 French service, he had not renounced his oath of allegiance, he 
 remained a subject of Britain, and should be punished as a 
 traitor. Seized with a momentary burst of indignation at such 
 unworthy treatment and cowardly cruelty to a prisoner of war, 
 he flung off his uniform, and cried, " These fetters shall never 
 degrade the revered insi2;nia of the free nation which I have 
 served." Resuming then his usual calm, he offered his limbs to 
 the irons, and when they were fixed he exclaimed, " For the 
 cause which I have embraced, I feel prouder to wear these chains, 
 than if I were decorated with the star and garter of England." 
 The friends of Lord Cavan have asserted that this extreme, and I 
 will add, unmanly and ungenerous severity, was provoked by his 
 outrageous behaviour when he found that he was not to have the 
 privileges of a prisoner of war. This supposition is not only 
 contradicted by the whole tenor of his character, and his subse- 
 quent deportment, but no other instances of it have ever been 
 specified than those noble replies to the taunts of General Lavau. 
 Of the latter, I know nothing but these anecdotes, recorded in 
 the papers of the day. If, as his name seems to indicate, he was 
 a French emigrant, the coincidence was curious, and his conduct 
 the less excusable. 
 
 Another version of this story, which I have seen, for the first 
 time, in the London New Monthly Magaziup, states that ^\y Tone 
 was recognised by, or according to another account, had the 
 imprudence to make himself known to an old acquaintance at 
 Lord Cavan's table, who speedily informed his lordship of the 
 guest who sat at his board. The first circumstantial account is 
 the one which reached us in France ; but, in my opinion, the 
 difference between the two stories is very trifling. It retj;ards 
 only the fashion in which Sir George Hill gave in his information. 
 
 From Letterkenny he was hurried to Dublin without delay. 
 
214 " LIFE OP 
 
 In the same magazine, I find that, contrary to usual custom, lie 
 was conveyed during the whole route, fettered and on horseback, 
 under an escort of dragoons. Of this farther indignity I had 
 never heard before. During this journey, the unruffled serenity 
 of his countenance, amidst the rude soldiery, and under the awe- 
 struck gaze of his countrymen, excited universal admiration. 
 Recognizing in a group of females which thronged the windows, 
 a young lady of his acquaintance : "There," said he, "is my old 
 friend Miss Beresford ; how well she looks." On his arrival, he 
 was immured in the provost's prison, in the barracks of Dublin, 
 under the charge of the notorious Major Sandys, a man whose 
 insolence, rapacity, and cruelty, will long be remembered in that 
 city, where, a worthy instrument of the faction which then ruled 
 it, he enjoyed under their patronage a despotic authority within 
 its precincts. 
 
 Though the reign of terror was drawing to a close, and Lord 
 Cornwallis had restored some appearance of legal order and 
 regular administration in the kingdom, a prisoner of such import- 
 ance to the Irish Protestant ascendancy party, as the founder and 
 leader of the United Irish Society, and the most formidable of 
 their adversaries, was not to be trusted to the delays and common 
 forms of law. Though the Court of King's Bench was then 
 sitting, preparations were instantly made for trying him summarily 
 before a court martial. But before I give an account of this 
 trial, and of the nature of his defence, it will be necessary to 
 remove some erroneous impressions on these subjects, which I 
 have seen stated, both in Curran's Life, by his son, and in the 
 very fair and liberal comments of the London New Monthly 
 Magazine. A prevailing notion in both these works is, that from 
 my father's early dislike to legal studies, and inaccurate acquaint- 
 ance with the English laws, he considered his French commission 
 as a protection, and pleaded it in his defence. It is impossible to 
 read his speech on the trial and preserve this idea. Though he 
 used to laugh at his little proficiency in legal lore, he knew per- 
 fectly well that the course he had deliberately taken subjected 
 him to the utmost severity of the British laws. Nor was he 
 ignorant, that by the custom of the land, and the very tenor of 
 those laws, his trial, as it was conducted, was informal. He never 
 was legally condemned : for, though a subject of the crown (not 
 of Britain, but of Ireland), he was not a military man in that 
 kingdom ; he had taken no military oath, and of course the court 
 martial which tried him had no power to pronounce on his case, 
 which belonged to the regular criminal tribunals. But his heart 
 was sunk in despair at the total failure of his hopes, and he did 
 
THEOBALD WOLFE TONE. 215 
 
 not wish to survive them. To die with honour was his only wish, 
 and his only request to be shot like a soldier. For this purpose, 
 he preferred himself to be tried by a court martial, and proffered 
 his French commission, not to defend his life, but as a proof of 
 his rank, as he stated himself on the trial. 
 
 If further proof were required that my father was perfectly 
 aware of his fate, according to the English law, his own journals, 
 written during the Bantry Bay expedition, afford an incontestible 
 one. 
 
 But my father also knew that political considerations will often 
 supersede the letter of the laws. The only chance on which he had 
 formerly relied was, that the French Government would interfere, 
 and claim him with all its power and credit; to that, and to threats 
 of severe retaliation, he knew that the British Cabinet would yield, 
 as they did about a year afterwards in the case of Napper Tandy. 
 A curious fact, and which is not generally known, perhaps, even 
 to that gallant soldier himself, is, that Sir Sidney Smith was de- 
 tained by Carnot in the Temple, for that very purpose, like a 
 prisoner of state rather than a prisoner of war. 
 
 The time of my father's trial was deferred a few days by the 
 officers appointed to sit on the court martial receiving marching 
 orders. At length, on Saturday, 10th November, 1798, a new 
 court was assembled, consisting of General Loftus, who performed 
 the functions of president; Colonels Vandeleur, Daly, and Wolfe; 
 Major Armstrong, and a Captain Curran; Mr Paterson performed 
 the functions of judge advocate. 
 
 At an early hour, the neighbourhood of the barracks was crowded 
 with eager and anxious spectators. As soon as the doors were 
 thrown open they rushed in and immediately filled every corner 
 of the hall. 
 
 Tone appeared in the uniform of a chef-de-brigade (colonel). 
 The firmness and cool serenity of his whole deportment gave to the 
 awe-struck assembly the measure of his soul. Nor could his 
 bitterest enemies, whatever they deemed of his political principles, 
 and of the necessity of striking a great example, deny him the 
 praise of determination and magnanimity. 
 
 The members of the court having taken the usual oath, the 
 judge advocate proceeded to inform the prisoner that the court 
 martial, before which he stood, was appointed by the lord lieuten- 
 ant of the kingdom, to trv whether he had or had not acted 
 traitorously and hostilely against his ]\[;ijesty, to whom, as a 
 natural born subject, he owed all allegiance, from the very fact of 
 his birth in that kingdom, and according to the usual form, he 
 called upon him to plead guilty or not guilty. 
 
216 LIFE OP 
 
 Tone, — " I mean not to give the court any useless trouble, and 
 wish to spare them the idle task of examining witnesses. I admit 
 all the facts alleged, and only request leave to read an address 
 which I have prepared for the occasion." 
 
 CoL Daly. — "I must warn the prisoner, that, in acknowledging 
 those /rtc'/s, he admits to his prejudice that he has acted traitorously 
 against his Majesty. Is such his intention?" 
 
 Tone. — " Stripping this charge of the technicality of its terms, 
 it means, I presume^ by the word 'traitorously,' that I have been 
 found in arms against the soldiers of the king in my native ct)untry. 
 I admit this accusation in its most extended sense, and request again 
 to explain to the court the reasons and motives of my conduclw" 
 
 The court then observed, that they would hear his address, pro- 
 vided he confined himself within the bounds of moderation. He 
 rose, and began in these words: — 
 
 " Mr President, and Gentlemen of the Court Martial: I mean not 
 to give you the trouble of bringing judicial proof to convict me, 
 legally, of having acted in hostility to the government of his 
 Britannic Majesty in Ireland. I admit the fact. From my 
 earliest youth I have regarded the connexion between Ireland and 
 Great Britain as the curse of the Irish nation; and felt convinced 
 that, whilst it lasted, this country could never be free nor happy. 
 My mind has been confirmed in this opinion by the experience of 
 every succeeding year, and the conclusions which I have drawn 
 from every fact before my eyes. In consequence, I determined to 
 apply all the power which my individual eff"orts could move, in 
 order to separate the two countries. , 
 
 " I'hat Ireland was not able of herself to throw off tlic yoke, 1 
 knew. I therefore sought for aid wherever it wms to be found. 
 In honourable poverty, I rejected offers, which to a man in my 
 circumstances, might be considered advantageous, I remained 
 faithful to what I thought the cause of my country, and sought in 
 the French Republic an ally, to rescue three millions of n)y 
 countrymen from " 
 
 The President here interrupted the prisoner, observing that this 
 language was neither relevant to the charge, nor such as ought to 
 be delivered in a public court. One member said, it seemed calcu- 
 lated (mly to inflame the minds of a certain description of pcoijh^, 
 (the United Irishmen), many of whom might probably be present; 
 and that, therefore, the court ought not to sufter it. The jndge 
 advocate said, he thought, that if Mr Tone meant this paper to be 
 laid before his Excellency, in way of extenuation, it must liave a 
 quite contrary effect, if any of the foregoing part was suffered to 
 remaiu. 
 
THEOBALD WOLFE" TONE. 217 
 
 Tone. — "I shall urge this topic no further, since it seems dis- 
 agreeable to the court; but shall proceed to read the few words 
 which remain." 
 
 Gen. Lofius. — "If the remainder of your address, Mr Tone, is 
 of the same complexion with what you have already read, will you 
 not hesitate for a moment in proceeding, since you have learned 
 the opinion of the court V 
 
 Tone. — " I believe there is nothing in what remains for mo to 
 say which can give any offence. 1 mean to express my feelings 
 and gratitude towards the Catholic body, in whose cause I v.-aa 
 engaged." 
 
 Gen. Lojtus. — "That seems to have nothing to say to tlie charge 
 against you, to which only you are to spealc. If you have any- 
 thing to offer in defence or extenuation of that charge, the court 
 will hear you; but they beg that you will confine yourself to that 
 subject." 
 
 Tone. — " I shall, then, confine myself to some points relative to 
 my connexion with the French army. Attached to no party in 
 the French Republic, without interest, without money, without 
 intrigue, the openness and integrity of my views raised me to a 
 high and confidential rank in its armies. I obtained the confidence 
 of the executive directory, the approbation of my generals, and, I 
 venture to add, the esteem and affection of my brave comrades. 
 When I review these circumstances, I feel a secret and internal 
 consolation, which no reverse of fortune, no sentence in the power 
 of this court to inflict, can ever deprive me of, or weaken in any 
 degree. Under the flag of the French Eepublic I originally en- 
 gaged, with a view to save and liberate my own country. For that 
 purpose I have encountered the chances of war amongst strangers; 
 for that purpose I have repeatedly braved the terrors of the ocean, 
 covered, as I knew it to be, with the triumphant fleets of that 
 power which it was my glory and my duty to oppose. I have 
 sacrificed all my views in lite; I have courted poverty; I have left 
 a beloved wife unprotected, and children whom I adored, father- 
 less. After such sacrifices in a cause which I have always con- 
 scientiously considered as the cause of justice and freedom, it is 
 no great effort at this day, to add ' the sacrifice of my life.' 
 
 " Rut I hear it said, this unfortunate country has been a prey 
 to all sorts of horrors. I sincerely lament it. I beg, however, it 
 may be remembered, that I have been absent four years from 
 Ireland. To me, these sufferings can never be attributed. I 
 designed, by fair and open war, to procure the separation of the 
 two countries. For open war I was prepared; but if, instead of 
 that, a system of private assassination has taken place, I repeat, 
 
218 LIFE OF 
 
 whilst I deplore it, that it is not chargeable on me. Atrocities, 
 it seems, have been comiintted on both sides. I do not less de- 
 j)lore them; I detest them from my heart; and to those who know 
 my character and sentiments, I may safely appeal for the truth of 
 this assertion. With them, I need no justification. 
 
 " In a cause like this, success is every thing. Success, in the 
 ?yes of the vulgar, fixes its merits. Washington succeeded and 
 Kosciusko failed, 
 
 " After a combat nobly sustained, a combat which would have 
 excited the respect and sympathy of a generous enemy, my fate 
 was to become a prisoner. To the eternal disgrace of those who 
 gave the order, I was brought hither in irons, like a felon. I 
 mention this for the sake of others; for me, I am indifferent to it; 
 I am aware of the fate which awaits me, and scorn equally the 
 tone of complaint and that of supplication. 
 
 " As to the connexion between this country and Great Britain, 
 T repeat it, all that has been imputed to me, words, writings, and 
 actions, I here deliberately avow. I have spoken and acted with 
 reflection, and on principle, and am ready to meet the conse- 
 quences. Whatever be the sentence of this court, I am prepared 
 for it. Its members will surely discharge their duty; I shall take 
 care not to be wanting to mine." 
 
 This speech was pronounced in a tone so magnanimous, so full 
 of a noble and calm serenity, as seemed deeply and visibly to 
 affect all its hearers, the members of the court not excepted. A 
 pause ensued of some continuance, and silence reigned in the hall, 
 till interrupted by Tone himself, who inquired whether it was not 
 usual to assign an interval between the sentence and execution 1 
 The judge advocate answered, that the voices of the court would 
 be collected without delay, and the result transmitted forthwith 
 to the lor-d lieutenant. If the prisoner, therefore, had any farther 
 observations to make, now was the moment. 
 
 Tone. — "I wish to offer a few -words relative to one single 
 point — to the mode of punishment. In France, our emigres, who 
 stand nearly in the same situation, in which I suppose I now 
 stand before you, are condemned to be shot. I ask, that the 
 court should adjudge me the death of a soldier, and let me be 
 shot by a platoon of grenadiers. I request this indulgence rather 
 in consideration of the uniform which I wear, the uniform of a 
 chef-de-brigade in the French army, than from any personal 
 regard to myself. In order to evince my claim to this favour, I 
 beg that the court may take the trouble to peruse my commission 
 and letters of service in the French army. It will appear from 
 these papers that I have not received them £^s a, mask to cove? 
 
THEOBALD WOLFE TONE. 219 
 
 me, but that I have been loiifr and bona fide an officer in the 
 French service." 
 
 Judge Advocate. — "You must feel that the papers you alhide 
 to will serve as undeniable proofs against you." 
 
 Tone. — "Oh! — / Jcnow it well — I have already admitted the 
 fticts, and I now admit the papers as full proofs of convic- 
 tion." 
 
 The papers were then examined; they consisted of a brevet of 
 the chef-de-brigade from the directory, signed by the minister of 
 war, of a letter of service, granting to him the rank of adjutant- 
 general, and of a passport. t 
 
 Ge7i. Loftiis. — " In those papers you are designated as serving 
 in the army of England." 
 
 Tone. — " I did serve in that army, when it was commanded by 
 Buonaparte, by Desaix, and by Kilmaine, who is, as I am, an 
 Irishman. But I have also served elsewhere." Bequested if he 
 had anything further to observe: he said that nothing more 
 occurred to him, except that the sooner his Excellency's approba- 
 tion of their sentence was obtained, the better. He would con- 
 sider it as a favour if it could be obtained in an hour. 
 
 General Loftus then observed, that the court would, undoubtedly, 
 submit to the Lord Lieutenant the address which he had read to 
 them, and also the subject of his last demand. In transmitting the 
 address, he, however, took care to efface all that part of it which 
 he would not allow to be read : and which contained the dying 
 speech and last words of the first apostle of Irish union and 
 martyr of Irish liberty to his countrymen. Lord Cornwallis 
 refused the last demand of my father, and he was sentenced to 
 die the death of a traitor, in forty-eight hours, on the lith of 
 November. This cruelty he had foreseen; for England, from the 
 days of Lewellyn of V/aies, and Wallace of Scotland, to those of 
 Tone and Napoleon, has never shown mercy or generosity to a 
 fallen enemy. He then, in perfect coolness and self-posses- 
 sion, determined to execute his purpose, and anticipate their 
 sentence. 
 
 The next day was passed in a kind of stupor. A cloud of 
 portentous awe seemed to hang over the city of Dublin. The 
 apparatus of military and despotic authority was every where dis- 
 played ; no man dared to trust his next neighbour, nor one of 
 the pale citizens to betray, by look or word, his feelings or sym- 
 pathy. The terror which prevailed in Paris, under the rule of the 
 Jacobins, or in Rome, during the proscriptions of Marius, Sylla, 
 and the Triumviri, and under the reigns of Tiberius, Xero, 
 Caligula, and Domitian, was never deeper, or more universal, thau 
 
^20 LIB-E OF 
 
 that of Ireland at this fatal and shameful period. It was, in short, 
 the feeling which made the people soon after passively acquiesce in 
 the Union, and in the extinction of their name as a nation. Of 
 the numerous friends of my father, and of those who had shared 
 in his political jninciples and career, some had perished on the 
 scaffold, others rotted in dungeons, and the remainder dreaded, 
 by the slightest mark of recognition, to be involved in his fate. 
 One noble exception deserves to be recorded; 
 
 John Philpot Curran, the celebrated orator and patriot, had 
 attached himself, in his political career, to the Whig party; but 
 his theoretical principles went much farther. And when the 
 march of the administration to despotism was pronounced — when 
 the persecution began — I laioiu that in the years 1794 and 1795, 
 and particularly at the Drogheda assizes in the former year, and 
 on occasion of the trial of Bird and Hamill, where they were 
 both employed as counsel, he opened his mind to my father ; and 
 that on the main point — on the necessity of breaking the con- 
 nexion with England — they agreed. Curran prudently and 
 properly confined himself to those legal exertions at the bar, 
 where his talents were so eminently useful, and where he left an 
 imperishable monument to his own and to his country's fame. It 
 was well that there remained one place, and one man, through 
 which the truth might sometimes be heard. He avoided com- 
 mitting himself in the councils of the United Irishmen ; but, had 
 the project of liberating Ireland succeeded, he would have been 
 amongst the foremost to hail and join her independence. On this 
 occasion, joining his efforts to those of Mr Peter Burrowes, he 
 nobly exerted himself to save his friend. 
 
 The sentence of my father was evidently illegal. Curran knew, 
 however, very well, that by bringing the case before the proper 
 tribunal, the result would ultimately be the same — that he could 
 not be acquitted. But then the delays of the law might be 
 brought in play, and the all-important point of gaining time 
 would be obtained. The French government could not, in honour, 
 but interfere, and the case, from a mere legal, would become a 
 political one. In politics my father had many adversaries, but few 
 personal enemies; in private and public life he was generally be- 
 loved and respected ; his moderation, too, was known and appre- 
 ciated by those who feared a revolution, and trusted to him, 
 as a mediator, if such an event was to take place. In short, 
 it did not appear a matter of impossibility to have finally 
 saved him by some agreement with the government. Determined 
 to form a bar for his defence, and bring the case before tha 
 Court of King's Bench, then sitting, and presided over by Lord Kil- 
 
THEOBALD WOLFE TONE. 221 
 
 warden, a man of the purest and most benevolent virtue, and who 
 always tempered justice with mercy, Curran endeavoured the 
 whole day of the 11th to raise a subscn[)tioii for this purpose. 
 But terror had closed every door; and I have it from his own lips, 
 that even among the Catholic leaders, many of them wealthy, no 
 one dared to subscribe. Curran then determined to proceed alone. 
 On this circumstiuice no comment can be expected from the son of 
 Theobald Wolfe Tone. Those men had behaved nobly towards 
 him, in former times, almost as perilous. The universal dread 
 must be their excuse. 
 
 On the next day, 12th November, (the day fixed for his execu- 
 tion), the scene in the Court of King's Bench was awful and 
 impressive to the highest degree. As soon as it opened, Curran 
 advanced, leading the aged father of Tone, who produced his affi- 
 davit, that his son had been brought before a bench of officers, 
 calling itself a court martial, and sentenced to death. "I do not 
 pretend," said Curran, "that Mr Tone is not guilty of the charges 
 of which he is accused. I presume the officers were honourable 
 men. But it is stated in this affidavit, as a solemn fact, that Mr 
 Tone had' no commission under his Majesty; and, therefore, no 
 court martial could have cognizance of any crime imputed to him, 
 whilst the Court of King's Bench sate in the capacity of the great 
 criminal court of the land. In time when war was ra^incr, when 
 man was opposed to man in the field, courts martial might be en- 
 dured; but every law authority is with me, whilst I stand upon 
 this sacred and immutable principle of the constitution, that martial 
 law and civil law are incompatible, and the former must cease with 
 the existence of the latter. This is not, however, the time for 
 arguing this momentous question. My client must appear in this 
 court. He is cast for death this very day. Pie may be ordered 
 for execution whilst I address you. I call on the court to support 
 the law, and move for a habeas corpus, to be directed to the 
 provost- marshal of the barracks of Dublin, and Major Sandys, to 
 bring up the body of Tone/' 
 
 Cliicf- Justice. — "Have a writ instantly prepared." 
 
 Curran. — "My client may die whilst the writ is prepar- 
 ing." 
 
 Chief -Justice. — '"Mr Sheriff, proceed to the barracks, and acquaint 
 the provost-marshal that a writ is preparing to suspend Mr Tone's 
 execution, and see that he be not executed." 
 
 The court awaited, in a state of the utmost agitation and sus- 
 pense, the return of the sheriff. He speedily appeared, and said, 
 "My lord, I have been to the barracks in pursuance of your order. 
 The provost-marshai says he must obey Major Sandys. Major 
 
222 llFE OF 
 
 Sandys says he must obey Lord Coniwallis," Mr Currari 
 announced, at the same time, that Mr Tone, tlio father, was just 
 returned after serving the habeas corpus, and that General Craig 
 would not obey it. The chief-justice exchiimed, " Mr Sheriff, take 
 the body of Tone into custody — take the provost-marshal and 
 Major Sandys into custody, and show the order of the court to 
 General Craig." 
 
 The general impression was now, that the prisoner would be led 
 out to execution in defiance of the court. This apprehension was 
 legible in the countenance of Lord Kiiwarden; a man who, in the 
 worst of times, preserved a religious respect for the laws; and who 
 besides, I may add, felt every personal feeling of pity and respect 
 for the prisoner, whom he had formerly contributed to shield from 
 the vengeance of government on an occasion almost as perilous. 
 His agitation, according to the expression of an eye-witness, was 
 mao;nificent. 
 
 The sheriff returned at length with the fatal news. He had been 
 refused admittance in the barracks; but was informed that Mr 
 Tone, who had wounded himself dangerously the night before, 
 was not in a condition to be removed. A French emigrant 
 surgeon, who had closed the wound, was called in, and declared 
 there was no saying, for four days, whether it was mortal. His 
 head was to be kept in one position, and a sentinel was set over 
 him to prevent his speaking. Removal would kill him at once. 
 The chief-justice instantly ordered a rule for suspending the 
 execution. 
 
 I must collect my strength to give the remaining details of the 
 close of my father's life. The secrets of a state prison, and of 
 such prisons as were those of Dublin at that period, are seldom 
 penetrated; and the facts which have reached us are few and 
 n) eagre. As soon as he learned the refusal of his last request, his 
 determination was taken with the same resolution and coolness 
 which he exhibited during the whole transaction. In order to 
 spare the feelings of his parents and friends, he refused to see any 
 one, and requested only the use of writing materials. During the 
 10th and 11th of November, he addressed the directory, the 
 minister of marine, General Kilmaine, and Mr Shee, in France, 
 and several of his friends in Ireland, to recommend his family to 
 their care. I here insert a translation of his letter to the 
 directory, the only one of which we obtained a copy; — 
 
 r 
 
theobald wolfe tone. 223 
 
 '*Fb.om the Provost's Pi^ison, Dublin. 
 
 "20th Brumaire, 7th Year of the Republic, 
 (10th November, 1798). 
 
 " The Adjutant-General Theobald Wolfe Tone (called Smith J^ 
 to the Executive Directory of the French Eepuhlic. 
 
 "Citizen Directors, — The English government having de- 
 termined not to respect my rights as a French citizen and officer, 
 and summoned me before a court martial, I have been sentenced 
 to death. In those circumstances I request you to accept my 
 thanks for the confidence with which you have honoured me, and 
 which, in a moment like this, I venture to say I well deserved. 
 I have served the republic faithfully, and my death, as well as 
 that of my brother, a victim like myself, and condemned in the 
 same manner about a month ago, will sufficiently prove it. I 
 hope the circumstances in which I stand will v/arrant me, citizen 
 directors, in supplicating you to consider the fate of a virtuous 
 wife and of three infant children, who had no other support, and, 
 in losing me will be reduced to the extreme of misery. I venture, 
 on such an occasion, to recall to your remembrance, that I was 
 expelled from my own country in consequence of my attempts to 
 serve the republic; that, on the invitation of the French govern- 
 ment, I came to France; that ever since I had the honour to 
 enter the French service, I have faithfully, and with the approba- 
 tion of all my chiefs, performed my duty; finally, that I have 
 sacrificed for the republic all that man holds dearest — my wife, 
 my children, my liberty, my life. In these circumstances, I 
 confidently call on your justice and humanity in favour of my 
 family, assured that you will not abandon them. It is the 
 greatest consolation which remains to me in dying. 
 
 " Health and respect, 
 
 "T. W. Tone (called Smith), 
 ^^Adjutant-General." 
 
 He then, with a firm hand and heart, penned the two following 
 letters to my mother : — 
 
 "Provost's Prison — Dublin Barracks. 
 
 "Le 20 Brumaire, An 7, (loth Nov.), 1798. 
 
 "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 rae, 
 
224: LIFE OP 
 
 *'I have written on your behalf to the French governme 
 the minister of marine, to General Kilraaine, and to Mr Shee 
 the latter I wish you especially to advise. In Ireland, I liave' 
 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 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 assurances from your brother Edward of his 
 determination to render every assistance and protection in his 
 j)ower ; 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 maimer 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 this moment as at any period of my life. 
 Cherish my memory; and, especially, preserve your health and 
 jipirits for the sake of our dearest children. 
 
 " Your ever affectionate, 
 
 "T. W. Tone. 
 
 "will November, 1798." 
 
 * Nobly did this pure and virtuous man, and he alone of all those whom my father had 
 depended upon, fulfil the expectation of his friend. He was to 11. y mother a bruther, a 
 protector, and an adviser, during the whole period of our distress ; and when, at the close 
 of eighteen years, we were ruined a second time by the fall of Napoleon, he came over 
 from his own country to o£fer her his hand and his fortune, and share our fate iu Ameriuu 
 
THEOBALD WOLFE TONE. 225 
 
 It is said, that on the evening of that very day, he could see 
 and hear the soldiers erecting the gallows for him before his 
 windows. That very night, according to the report given by his 
 jailors, having secreted a penknife, he inflicted a deep wound 
 across his neclc. It was soon discovered by the sentry, and a 
 surgeon called in at four o'clock in the morning, who stopped the 
 blood and closed it. He rep )rted, that as the prisoner had 
 missed the carotid artery, he might yet survive, but was in tlie 
 extreniest danger. It is said that he murmured only in reply, 
 *' I am sorry I have been so bad an anatomist." Let me draw a 
 veil over the remainder of this scene. 
 
 Stretched on his bloody pallet in a dungeon, the first apostle of 
 Irish union, and most illustrious martyr of Irish independence, 
 counted each lingering hour during the last seven days and nights 
 of his slow and silent agony. No one was allowed to approach him. 
 Far from his adored family, and from all those friends whoni he loved 
 so dearly, the only forms which flitted before his eyes were those 
 of the grim jailor and rough attendants of the prison; the only 
 sounds which fell on his dying ear, the heavy tread of the sentry. 
 He retained, however, the calmness of his soul, and the possession 
 of his faculties to the last. And the consciousness of dying for 
 his country, and in the cause of justice and liberty, illumined, like 
 a bright halo, his latest moments, and kept up his fortitude to the 
 end. There is no situation under which those feelings will not 
 support the soul of a patriot. 
 
 On the morning of the 19th November, he was seized with the 
 spasms of approaching death. It is said that the surgeon who 
 attended, whispered that, if he attempted to move or speak he 
 must expire instantly; that he overheard him, and making a slight 
 movement, replied, " I can yet find words to thank you, sir; it is 
 the most welcome news you give me. What should I wish to live 
 for f Falling back, with these expressions on his lips, he expired 
 without further effort. 
 
 On closhig this painful and dreadful narrative, I must allude to 
 some hints which I have heard from a most respectable and well 
 informed quarter, that, in consequence of the attempts to with- 
 draw him from the jurisdiction of the military tribunals, my 
 father's end may have been precipitated by the hands of his jailors; 
 and that, to conceal their crime, they spread the report of his 
 voluntary death. It is certainly not my duty to exculpate them. 
 That his end was voluntary, his determination, previous to his 
 leaving France, which was known to us, and the tenor of his last 
 letters, incline me to believe. Neither is it likely that iNlajor Sandys 
 and his experienced satellites, would perform a murder in so bung- 
 
 H 
 
226 LIFE OP THEOBALD WOLFE TONE. 
 
 ling a way as to allow their victim to survive the attempt cluring 
 eight days. If this was the case, his death can never be considered 
 as a suicide; it was merely the resolution of a noble mind to dis- 
 appoint, by his own act, the brutal ferocity of his enemies, and 
 avoid the indignity of their touch. 
 
 But on the other side, it cannot be denied that the character of 
 these men would warrant the worst conclusion. The details of 
 my ftither's death and last words only reached the public ear 
 through their reports; no one was allowed to approach him after 
 his wound; no medical attendant to come near him, except the 
 prison surgeon, a foreigner and French emigrant.* Why was no 
 coroner's inquest held on his body, as was held on Jackson's, in 
 the very court where he died ? The resistance which was opposed 
 by the military to the warrant of the chief-justice, was indecorous 
 and violent in the extreme, nor was it till compelled by the firmness 
 of Lord Kilwarden to give way, that they acknowledged the wound 
 of their prisoner, though, according to their own report, it had been 
 inflicted during the preceding night. Was it possible, that fearing 
 the interference of the civil courts, they hastened his end; or what 
 would be more atrocious still, admitting the fact that he had 
 wounded himself, did they intend to conceal it, and to glut their 
 mean and ferocious revenge, and insult their dying enemy, who 
 had thought to escape their indignities, by dragging him out iu 
 that state, and executing him with their own hands 1 That their 
 preparations continued till interrupted by the interference of 
 superior authority; that the wound of their prisoner was anxiously 
 concealed as long as possible; and that no one, even afterwards, 
 was allowed to approach and speak to him during his long agony, 
 are certain facts. 
 
 Between those dreadful suspicions, the reader must judge for 
 himself. As for what passed within the provost's prison, it must 
 remain for ever amongst the guilty and bloody mysteries of that 
 pandemonium. If charges of so black and bloody a nature can be 
 adduced with any appearance of probability against the agents of 
 the Irish government, the violence, cruelty, and lawless proceedings 
 in which they were indulged with perfect impunity by their em- 
 ployers, not only warrant them, but give them too tremendous a 
 probability. As for my part, I have merely stated, as I have done 
 through the whole of this work, in the fairest and fullest manner, 
 the facts which have reached us, without any comment or opinion 
 of my own. 
 
 * It would be a very curious coincidence, if General Lavau, who behaved so brutally to 
 my father on arresting hini, was also a French emigrant. These men would hold him ia 
 double abhorrence, as a soldier of the French Republic and a democrat. 
 
m 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 CONTAINING THE FATE OF GENERAL TONE'S 
 FAMILY AFTER HIS DEATH. 
 
 BY HIS SON.* 
 
 At the time of this last expedition, a strict emViargo reigned on 
 the coasts of England, and no news could reach to France but 
 through the distant and indirect channel of Hamburgh. It was 
 not till the close of November that the report of the action of 
 the 11th of October, of the capture, trial, defence, and condemna- 
 tion 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 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 or 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 (Talleyrand 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 nature 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 
 
 * Some lengthy official letters and e.\traneous matter are oiriiMd.-^£a. Aut. 
 
22$ LIFE OF 
 
 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 np 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 our aunt. For she did not 
 expect that even these eiforts "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 furnislied to her, 
 and she was alreadv 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. 
 
 That Curran's anticipations were not ill founded, and that the 
 interference of the French and Batavian governments would have 
 been effectual to delay my father's fate, and fmally save his life, I 
 am convinced. A case similar, in many instances, happened 
 nearly at the same time. Napper Tandy, a man as obnoxious to 
 the Irish government as any of the ])opular leaders, had escaped 
 to Norway, and from thence to Hamburgh. He was there 
 arrestt'd hy the cowju'dly and treacherous connivunci' of the senate 
 of that city, along with three other Irishmen, AIM. William 
 Corbett, Blackwell, and Morris; they were given np to the 
 Endish resident, and sent to Dublin for trial. But the reign of 
 military tribunals was passed. Tandy was tried by a court of 
 law, and defended by Curran; delays were thrown in the way of 
 his condemnation, and in the meantime, Napoleon, who was now 
 
THEOBALD WOLFE TONE. 229 
 
 returned from Egypt, claimed him as a French general, designated 
 an English prisoner of equal rank as a hostage for his safety, and 
 laid a severe fine on the city of Hamburgh, to chastise its breach 
 of the laws of neutrality. Napoleon vv^as not to be trifled with, 
 and Tandy was soon exchanged, and spent the remainder of his 
 old days at Bourdeaux, with the rank and appointments of 
 a general of brigade. Corbett and Blackwell had previously 
 escaped from Kilmainham gaol, under peculiar and romantic 
 circumstances. Miss Edge worth has availed herself of some of 
 them in her popular novel of Ormond. The former, a gallant 
 officer, I have known in the French army, where he rose to the 
 rank of adjutant-general and chief of the staff of the sixth Corps 
 d'Armee. 
 
 I will now close this painful narrative with a short abstract of 
 the fortunes and fates of my father's family after his death, and 
 of those Irishmen who accompanied him in his last expedition. 
 Of these, Mr T. Corbett, brother of the preceding gentleman, 
 happened to be on board one of the frigates which escaped. The 
 two others passed undistinguished amongst the French prisoners, 
 who on these occasions always concealed, to the best of their 
 power, the Irishmen who were taken with them; and they were 
 exchanged, in due season, with their companions. MM. T. 
 Corbett and M'Guire died in the French army. 
 
 Of my father's brothers and sister, Matthew, a captain of 
 grenadiers, had perished before him, in Humbert's expedition, 
 Arthur, a beautiful and gallant boy, entered the Dutch navy, as 
 a midshipman, under the patronage of Admiral Dewinter, my 
 father's friend. He was a universal favourite, though very wild, 
 and distinguished himself in several actions by a rare intrepidity. 
 Taken by the English, about the same time as his brother, he was 
 recognised by an Irish officer weeping over the account of his 
 brother's death. This kind-hearted countryman favoured his 
 escape, and at the age of eighteen he was promoted to a lieuten- 
 ancy. He sailed soon after for the East Indies; and since that 
 period has never been heard of, William's fortunes were still 
 more varied and singular. His early struggles and efforts in the 
 East Indies have already been noticed. He finally rose to a second 
 in command of a free corps, composed of Europeans and adven- 
 turers of all nali<ms, raised for the Mahratta service by colonel 
 (now general) Boyd of Boston, a nuist enterprising American 
 officer. On Boyd's departure, he succeeded to the command ; and 
 when ho heard of his brother's death, wrote a most noble and 
 affectionate letter to my mother, enclosing an order for £200, and 
 engaging, for the future, to be a father and X)rotector to the family. 
 
^30 ttFE OP 
 
 He was shortly after killed in storming a small fort in one of the 
 Indian wars. Mary followed her husband to St Domingo, and 
 died of the yellow fever, during the siege of Cape Frangais, attend- 
 ing a sick friend who had been deserted by her own family and 
 servants. None of them, including my father, reached to thirty- 
 six years of age. 
 
 As for Tone's own family, his wife and children, the interest 
 which had been excited in France by his trial was all transferred 
 to them after his flite. As some very idle stories have been 
 circulated on this subject ; and as our station, mode of life, and 
 connections in France, have been much misrepresented in some 
 late publications ; I feel that I cannot conclude this narrative 
 better than by a short abstract of the following events. 
 
 In the first moments after the death of my father, I have 
 already mentioned that 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 months' 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 Talley- 
 rand (to the latter of whom, whatever character be assigned to 
 him in history, we certainly owe gratitude for the lively and dis- 
 interested part which he always 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. Kil- 
 maine, 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 <_j;rant 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 en- 
 titled, amounted only to 300 francs, or little more than ^£12 ster- 
 ling a-year. This she refused either to demand or accept. But 
 
THEOBALD WOLFE TONE. 231 
 
 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 five hundred on the 
 subject. Oincial 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 
 ever shifting movements of that most unstable of govern- 
 ments, 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 which she had 
 excited, my mother retired almost in the precincts of the univer- 
 sity, 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 rearing 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 v/as yet unsettled, and our slender means could not last 
 many months longer; when my mother, reading some old papers 
 in her little solitude, fell on a beautiful speech pronounced some 
 months before in the council of five hundred, by Lucien Buona- 
 parte. 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 saaall, The mm of wamtii'^i kilkd on the field of 
 
232 LIFE or 
 
 battle ceased to receive them, when tliey 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, certifi- 
 cates, and doeunients required by law, for making an application 
 to the legislature; or, indeed, before my niother 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 or introduc- 
 tion. He was highly touched and flattered. She gave him all 
 her papers and showed him her children. He was m.uch 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, arid get the permission 
 of the executive, which would be necessary; and if he wanted any 
 further particulars from her, would write to her for them. Noth- 
 ing could he more delicate or generous than his whole manner. 
 
 Next morning, Madame Lucien Buonaparte, his first wife, 
 called upon my mother, and introduced herself. She was an 
 amiable woman, of irreproachable character, but very weak health, 
 and even then dying of consumption. An acquaintance commenced, 
 which terminated only at her death a few months afterwards. 
 
 The report of Lucien Buonaparte w\as 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 
 Kilniaine, who ever since my father's death had expressed a warm 
 interest in our fate, was dying. In the ravings of iever he would 
 insist on putting horses to his carriage, and driving with us *'p tba 
 
THEOBALD WOLFE TONE. 233 
 
 directory and council of five hundred, to reproach them with their 
 delays in providini; for the widow and children of Tone. Hardy 
 was gone to the West Indies; and General Simon, my father's 
 old companion in both expeditions, and who had been chief of the 
 stafi in the last, gave all 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, 
 which was to take place in the month of Brumaire (that presidency 
 famous for a revolution which soon altered the face of France and 
 of all Europe). Perhaps he also waited for the arrival of his 
 brother; for there can be very little doubt that he was one of 
 those leaders of the rej^ublic who, with different hopes and views, 
 seeing the desperate situation into which it was falling, secretly 
 invited Napoleon from the shores of Egypt to return and save it. 
 
 At length the news suddenly arrived, and ran throngh France 
 like an electric shock, that the conqueror of Italy and Egypt had 
 landed on its coast. He arrived at Paris towards the close of 
 Vendemaire. The effect was immediate. All eyes were turned 
 upon him, and new hopes and rising spirits threw the whole 
 country into a kind of fermentation of expectancy. Matters could 
 not remain as they were 1 What should he do ? What part 
 would he take ? It v»'-ould be going out of our subject to enter 
 into the various intrigues which arose, and of which, indeed, 
 Becluded as we lived, we knew nothing at the time. On the 9tli 
 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 
 inuucdiately appointed, consisting of Joseph Buonaparte, Jean de 
 Bry (lately escaped from the congress of Rastadt, where his 
 comrades were assassinated), and several other members of the 
 two legislative councils, to report on the subject of a pension and 
 permanent provision for the widow and family of General Tone. 
 
 The revolution of the ISth Brumaire followed a few days after- 
 wards. As an instance of the complete seclusion and privacy in 
 W'hich we lived, I will only mention that, on that very morning, 
 my mother, entirely igiKU'ant of the great events which were 
 going on, called on Madame Lucien Buonaparte, whc was con- 
 fined, and in a very weak and declining state of health. She 
 ex[)rcssed her surprise at having seen the garden of the Tuilleries 
 surrounded by soldiers, who let no one pass, so that she was 
 obliged to walk round it. " Good god !" exclaimed Madame 
 Lucien, who appeared extremely agitated, " are you ignorant of 
 
234 LIFE Of 
 
 what is going on T She explained herself, however, no further. 
 Our friend. General Kilmaine, who, unable to move from his bed, 
 lent his horses and suite on that day to his old friend and com- 
 mander, Buonaparte, gave us no more information ; and we were 
 only informed of the change which had taken place by the news- 
 papers and public rejoicings. 
 
 This revolution, which in the first moments seemed to promise 
 so favourably to our prospects, proved otherwise. Napoleon and 
 Lucien shortly coolled, quarrelled, and at length parted in angry 
 disunion. Lucien was a stern patriot ; he sincerely thought that 
 his brother came to restore the republic; and when he saw the 
 turn which the new government began to take, would never be 
 reconciled to him till after his fall and retreat to Elba. He 
 nobly supported him, however, in his last enterprise, as well as 
 Carnot, because those two inflexible republicans then deemed that 
 the cause of France and Napoleon was one. Kilmaine died a few 
 days after the revolution; he was our staunch friend, and one of 
 the most confidential officers of Buonaparte ; had he survived, he 
 would probably have been raised to the highest posts and credit 
 in his government instead of Clarke. Clarke, I must say, showed 
 himself, on this occasion, cold and ungrateful. He and my father 
 were long pledged to support each other's families in case either 
 of them fell. At the period of Carnot's expulsion from the direc- 
 tory, he had been for some time under great suspicion and disgrace, 
 and apprehensive of being arrested every day. My father showed 
 him every mark of kindness, though Clarke begged him, with 
 tears in his eyes, to discontinue visits which might commit himself, 
 and could be of no usa to him. *^ I shall never desert a friend 
 because he is in misfortune," v/as his reply. When Napoleon re- 
 turned, and that Clarke (destined to still higher honour, and to 
 become minister of war, peer of France, duke of Feltre, and count 
 of Hunebourg) was made his private secretary; when a single 
 word of his might have settled the affair of my mother's pension, 
 and that she sent her papers to him in a letter, and called three 
 times upon him (without being received) by the desire of his uncle 
 Shee, my father's old and faithful friend, he gave no answer, and 
 took not the slightest notice of them. 
 
 Shortly after, Madame Lucien Buonaparte died ; our connexion 
 with that family was then broken up of course, and Lucien him- 
 self soon after left France, and never returned to it till 18L5. 
 
 In this dissolution of one government, and creation of another, 
 the committee appointed to report on our pension was broken up 
 of course. Lucien, who was for a short time minister of the 
 interior, advised my mother to present his former report to the 
 
THEOBALD WOLFE TONE. 235 
 
 consuls, which slie did, with a letter exposing ber whole situation. 
 She received no answer. Indeed, for several years, and as long 
 as the consular government lasted, it paid no attention whatever 
 to these just and sacred claims. I am afraid that the recommenda- 
 tion of Lucien, and of the former directory, the case of a friend 
 of Hoche, and of a victim to republican principles, were not alto- 
 gether jigreeable to Napoleon. Lucien then gave to my mother 
 an order for 1,500 francs. Shortly afterwards my mother received 
 a beautiful and consoling letter from my uncle William, accompanied 
 by a draught of £233 sterling, or about 5,600 francs. 
 
 A prospect entertained of reuniting the broken fragments of 
 our unfortunate little family, under the paternal protection of 
 my gallant uncle, was never accomplished. The next news we 
 received was that of his death, of which we could never learn any 
 precise particulars of time and place. The report we heard was, 
 that he received a shot in the temple, whilst leading and encourag- 
 ins; his soldiers to mount the breach and storm a small fort in one 
 of the Indian v/ars. 
 
 Our privacy and solitude after that period were, if possible, 
 more complete than ever. The college walls and the immediate 
 neighbourhood were all the world to our little family. Colonel 
 Shee, my father's old friend, then counsellor of state, and uncle to 
 Clarke, urged my mother again and again, to apply to the consuls 
 for her pension. To apply on such a subject, and to apply in vain, 
 pained her pride and delicacy very much. Nevertheless several 
 ineffectual attempts were made by iny father's friends, personally, 
 to Napoleon, but with no better success than formerly. 
 
 The five years which elapsed from the first consulship of Buona- 
 parte to the rupture of the treaty of Amiens, were all spent in the 
 same uniform retirement. It was chiefly during that period that we 
 owed to the invaluable friendship of Mr Wilson, of Dullater, those 
 services w^hich no time can ocl:terate from our memories. He was 
 to ray mother a brother, and adviser, and a friend; he managed 
 her slender funds; and when sickness and death hovered over our 
 little family, he was our sole support. On his departure from France 
 our correspondence continued, and he left to his bankers, in that 
 country, unlimited orders to supply us whenever we should require it. 
 
 From this plain and matter-of-fact narrative, it is evident that, 
 far from being brought up by Napoleon, as I have seen it stated 
 in some late publications, for the purpose of " shining one day in 
 some of his gorgeous legations;" he paid for years no kind of notice 
 to our just and undeniable claims on the French government. 
 He did, at length, render us a noble but tardy justice. The 
 first symptona of this change was when, after the rupture of 
 
236 LIFE OF 
 
 the treaty of Amiefts, my mother, without any solicitation or ex- 
 pectation on her side, suddenly received from the emperor the grant 
 of a pension of 1,200 livres to herself, and 400 to each of her three 
 children to their twentieth year. Mj' sister had ah-eady sunk in 
 the grave, and my brother followed her in the year 180G, so that 
 this pension was reduced to 1,600 livres a-year. 
 
 I have some reason to believe that this tardy act of justice waa 
 partly owing to the arrival of the Irish state prisoners who had 
 laniruished so Iouet in Fort Georo;e, and who came over durins; the 
 peace of Amiens. Our ancient and dear friends Russell, Emmett, 
 and M'Neven were of the number. But Tom Russell, my father's 
 bosom companion, and the young and heroic Robert Emmet, perished 
 soon after in their gallant but desperate attempt to surprise the 
 Castle of Dublin. When the war broke out, those leaders of the 
 United Irish party were treated by the French government with 
 favour and attention. The Irish legion was organized to place and 
 employ the refugees. Mr Emmett observed at that time, "How could 
 they trust to that government when they saw the widow of Tone 
 unprovided for ?" The pension was almost instantly granted. 
 
 In the course of the same year we received from Ireland .£787 
 sterling, or upwards of 18,000 francs, the amount of a subscrip- 
 tion raised by some of my father's friends for the widow and 
 family of Tone. This sum was lent out at interest till I was of 
 age, so that we could not command it for entering the military 
 school. We were informed at the same time, and by the most 
 respectable authorities, of some circumstances connected with its 
 collection which pained our feelings exceedingly. It v/as said 
 that many of those wealthy friends of my father's, who had shared 
 in all his views, and owed much of their political influence to his 
 efforts, refused to contribute. The gentleman so often mentioned 
 in his memoirs by the name of Gog, was specified by name. It 
 was also said that the Earl of Moira, when spoken to, answered, 
 " That not one shilling of his money should ever be applied to 
 alleviate the merited sufferings of rebels." If this be true, as I have 
 too much reason to fear it is, I cannot envy his lordship's feelings. 
 
 The remaining events of our simple story no longer belong to 
 my father's history. They will be best understood from the 
 narrative of my mother, written in answer to those articles which 
 have lately appeared in several publications concerning us. The 
 circumstances under which I entered the military academy and 
 the French army, those of her interview with Napoleon, which 
 has been much talked of and misrepresented, will be found in that 
 narrative accurately and exactly detailed. I will only observe 
 that if she had taken this determination sooner, and addressed 
 
THEOBALD WOLFE TONE. 237 
 
 him at once personally, I am sure Lis justice would not have been 
 so tardy. Napoleon was often hasty and [iifjudiced in his 
 judgments; but when truth was presented to him, his feelings 
 were always great and magnanimous. 
 
 [The narrative of Mrs Tone above alluded to, is chiefly written in order to do 
 away with the effects of much idle gossip and misrepresentation of her situation 
 and conduct at Paris, in some of the English journals. In substance, it nar- 
 rates the death of her daughter and youngest son by consuniption; and the 
 patronage of the elder, the editor of his father's memoirs, by the French 
 authorities. Having with great difficulty, owing to his delicate heaUh, been en- 
 abled to get him regularly educated, with a view to the French service, Mrs Tone 
 sought an interview of Napoleon, which is thus characteristically described.] 
 
 " In the course of a few months, when my son was out of the awkward squad, 
 and beginning to be known and distinguished in the school, I thought it was 
 time for me to act. Accordingly, one fine morning, seeing from my windows 
 preparations for the hunt, I determined to make ilie attempt. I suppose St 
 Germain's, with its terrace and forest is pretty well known now. At the first 
 entrance to the forest, on the terrace, and adjoining the parterre, the emperor 
 always got fresli horses to the carriage on his arriving horn Paris, and drove on 
 to the lodge, about a league off, where he breakfasted and took horse; that was 
 the general rendezvous, and where many went to give petitions. I thought I 
 should be obliged to go there too, but I did not like it on account of the crowd 
 and the distance, and went only to the first entrance; horses and a few guards 
 were on the spot. I asked the officer if I might be permitted to present the 
 book and paper I held in my hand to his majesty. He told me the lodge was 
 the best place, as his majesty never stopped where we were; that the horses were 
 changed as quick as possible, and he drove on. I said it was impossible for me 
 to go so far; that the book was written by my son, a scholar in the castle, and I 
 thought would be pleasing to his majesty: so he told me to stay in the circle, 
 and that I might try. If I could not succeed, he advised me to wait till the 
 next hunt, and then take a coach and go early to the lodge. 
 
 "Very soon the carriage, with the emperor and empress, drove into the circle; 
 the horses v/ere changed as quick as thought, but I stepped up and presented 
 the book and memorial. He took them, and handing the book to his ecuver, 
 opened the paper. I have said it commenced by recalling Tone to his memory. 
 When he begun, he said ' Tone!' with an expressive accent. ' I remember well.' 
 (ye VI en soitvieus bic/i). He read it all through, and two or three times stopped, 
 looked at me, and bowed in reading it. When he had finished, he said to me, 
 * Now, speak to me of yourself.' [Malnteiiant parlez inoi de vous). I hesiLAted, 
 for I was not prepared for that question, and took small interest in the subject. 
 He proceeded, ' Have you a pension?' I said I had. ' Is it sufiicietit? do you 
 want any extraordinary succour?' By this time I had recovered myself, and said, 
 'Tliat his majesty's goodness left me no personal want; that all my cares, all 
 my interest in life were centred in my child, whom I now gave up to his majesty's 
 service.' He answered, ' Be tranquil then on his account.' I perceived a little 
 lialf smile, when I said '>iy child,' I should have said my son; I knew it, but 
 forgot. He had stopped so long that a crowd had gathered, and were crushing on. 
 They drove in the guard, and there came a horse very close to me; I was frightened, 
 and retiring, but he called me to stay where I was. * Restez! i-estez la!' \Vhether 
 it was for my safety, or that he wanted to say more, I cannot tell; but more it 
 was impossi'ule to say for the noise. I was close to the carriage door, and the 
 guards on horseback quite close behind me, and indeed I was trembling. He 
 saluted the people, and directed that two Napoleons a-piece should be given to 
 the old women, and women with little children, who were holding out their 
 hands. He then drove on, and in going, nodded to me two or tliree times with 
 afiectionfite familiarity, saying, 'Your child shall be well naturalized.' I 
 
238 LIFE OP 
 
 crossed instantly where the carriage had stood; the closing guards covered my 
 retreat, and I got, by a by-path of the forest, home in quiet, by anotlier gate. 
 
 "The emperor frequently visited the school of infantry at St Cyr. reviewed 
 the cadets, and gave them cold collations in the park. But he had never 
 visited the school of cavalry since its establishment, of which we were very jeal- 
 ous, and did all in our power to attract him. Whenever he hunted, the cadets 
 were in grand parade on the parterre, 'Vive V Empereur' with all their young 
 energies; he held his hat raised as he passed them, but that was all we could 
 gain. Wise people whispered that he never would go, whilst they were so evi- 
 dently expecting him; that he hked to keep them always on the alert; it was good 
 for discipline. The general took another plan, and once allowed no sign of life 
 about the castle when the emperor passed — it was hke a deserted place; but it 
 did not take neither — he passed as if there was no castle there. It was disesperant. 
 When, lo! the next day but one after I had spoken to him, he suddenly galloped 
 into the court of the castle, and the cry of the sentinel, ' L.'E77tpe}-etcr,' was the 
 first notice they had of it. All were in undress, all at work, and this was what 
 he wanted. He examined into everything. In the military schools the cadets got 
 ammunition bread, and lived like well fed soldiers; but there was a great outcry 
 in the circles of Paris against the bread of the school of St. Germain. Ladies 
 complained that their sons were poisoned by it; the emperor thought it was all 
 nicety, and said no man was fit to be an officer who could not eat ammunition 
 bread. However, being there, he asked for a loaf, which was brought, and he 
 saw it was villanous trash, composed of peas, beans, rye, potatoes, and everything 
 that would make flour or meal, instead of good brown wheaten flour. He tore 
 the loaf in two in a rage, and dashed it against the wall; and there it stuck like 
 a piece of mortar, to the great annoyance of those whose duty it was to have 
 attended to this. He ordered the baker to be called, and made him look at it 
 sticking. The man was in great terror at first at the emperor's anger; but taking 
 heart, he begged his majesty not to take his contract from him, and he would 
 give good bread in future; at which the emperor broke into a royal and imperial 
 passion, and threatened to send him to the galleys; but suddenly turning round, 
 said, ' Yes! he would allow him to keep the contract on condition that, as long as 
 it lasted, he should furnish the school with good white household bread, such 
 as was sold in the bakers' shops in Paris; and the baker thankfully promised to 
 furnish good white bread in future at the same price. 
 
 " By this time the cadets had got on their full uniforms and were drawn out 
 on parade. The emperor inspected and reviewed them. He stopped before my 
 son, and asked the general if he was not a young Irishman, looked at him a little 
 while, and passed on. The general told me afterwards that he had made inquiries 
 about him, and that he had spoken of Monsieur Tone as he deserved; he did not 
 tell me how that was. 
 
 ' ' Talleyrand Perigord, Prince of Benevent, had a country lodge at St Germain's, 
 where he often spent a week. He happened to be there at this period, and I 
 thought it right to wait upon him. He had known Tone well; I had not seen him 
 since the entrance of my boys in the Prytaneum, but I remembered his conduct 
 at that time. He received me with great politeness and interest, inquired into 
 my fortunes for so many years past, and listened to them in full detail, with much 
 kindness. He observed, the first and chief object was to take care of my son's 
 health, till his growth was finished and his constitution formed; he could not be 
 in a better place for this purpose, with good air and exercise, a very active life, 
 and I so near to watch over him. ' But this,' he added, 'must not be at your cost; 
 it is a national debt; I will speak of it to the Duke of Feltre, and to the emperor; 
 I make it my own business.' This conversation was very consoling and satis- 
 factory to me, and I expressed my grateful thanks to the prince. Its conse- 
 quences were not long delayed; for, soon after, I received a letter from the Duke 
 of Feltre, telling me that he had represented our situation to the emperor, who 
 was pleased to order that my son should be a government scholar, and that 
 the money I had advanced should be restored to me; also, that my son 
 could no longer hold a pension on the state; and it was his majesty's pleasure 
 that the whole pension originally granted ^3.4.00 francs) should be reunited on 
 
THEOBALD WOLFE TONE. 239 
 
 my head as long as I lived. The government scholars had also the advantage of 
 being furnished with horse and equipment on leaving tlie school. 
 
 "Time passed quietly and innocently on, and my son attained his twenty-first 
 year. His birthday was on the 29th of April. On that day the general told 
 him, on parade, that the French government owed it to him to bring up his 
 youth, but that it forced no one to become a Frenchman — that he was quite 
 free. That, if it was his own choice to become a Frenchman, and serve the 
 emperor, he must make the demand freely, and in his own person, to his 
 majesty's council of state. That, in all his despatches to the minister of war for 
 the last fortnight, he had asked permission to give him leave of absence for that 
 purpose, and wrote specially for it three days since, but had never received any 
 answer on the subject, which was inconceivable to him. He felt, however, that 
 to-day he had no right to detain him, and if it was his own pleasure to go, he 
 was free to do so. If he gave in his demand to the council of state, that instant 
 he was a French soldier {militaire Francais ) , and it would be his duty to return 
 immediately to his school. He hoped to see him on the parade next day if 
 possible. My son answered, that there was no earthly title he would be so 
 proud to hold as that of 7nilitaire Franfais; that he knew the duties it imposed, 
 and would be at his post. We set off immediately for Paris, but the lawyer told 
 him he could not make his demand till the day after he was of age, so we spent 
 the evening at the opera, incog.; and at ten next morning, 30th April, 1812, he 
 lodged his demand at the council of state, and got a receipt for it. We instantly 
 set off for St. Germain's, and wdth good driving arrived on the parterre a little 
 after twelve, whilst the school was still on parade. He was received with accla- 
 mation by his comrades, and with cordial and paternal welcome by the officers. 
 His mother witnessed at a distance. On the 4th of May, we received the act of 
 naturahzation in form. 
 
 " My son remained about nine months longer in the school. The awful cam 
 paign of Russia took place that winter, and every one thought that the next yeai 
 must bring peace. I paid, from time to time, a visit to the Prince of Benevent, 
 to keep remembrance alive. We agreed that my son should enter the regimenl 
 of his nephew, Count Edmond de Perigord, colonel of the 8th Chasseurs, and what 
 ever applications might be necessary to make to the ministei*of war, he offered tc 
 take on himself. ' I shall charge myself with it, he said, 'he won't refuse me.' 
 
 "At the close of January, 1813, my son was appointed sub-lieutenant in tha' 
 regiment, and ordered to his depot, or head quarters, at Gray, in Franche Comte. 
 to instruct recruits. At length the day of departure arrived, and I accompanied 
 him as far as Brie Comte Robert. We passed the night there, and the next 
 morning we walked from the town together, out of human ken, and there I 
 blessed my boy and parted with him. 
 
 "I never was long v/ithout hearing from my boy. He wrote whenever he 
 halted, and as soon as he got to Erfurt, after the battle of Leipsic, he was en- 
 abled to write to me by an officer coming on with despatches, fortunately for me, 
 for his name was in the list of the killed. I also owe it to the Duke of Feltre to 
 acknowledge, and feel pleasure in doing it, that he wrote to me immediately, 
 with his own hand, to tell me my son was safe at Erfurt with his cousin General 
 Daltcn." 
 
 [Lieutenant Tone served three campaigns; his active services commencing on 
 the 20th April, 1813. and terminating on the 21st July, 1815. On the final 
 ascendancy of the Bourbons he resigned his commission with many more 
 officers, tlie day before the white flag was hoisted at Bayonne, where he was 
 then quartered. His ultimate destination, and the latest account of himself 
 and mother, are best conveyed in his own words; which extract will very 
 properly conclude this selection.] 
 
 " In the beginning of September I arrived in Paris, and rejoined my dearest mother with 
 the firm resolution never to part from her again, and to consecrate the remainder of my 
 days to soothe and comfort her, after so manj' trials. We spent a whole year in that city, 
 before our final departure for France, but lived all that time in the greatest retirement; 
 indeed, prudence, as well as the state of our feelings, rendered this conduct necessary: 
 for though I was never personally compromised, though I had done na more thaa every 
 
240 
 
 LIFE OF THEOBALD WOLFE TONE. 
 
 officer of the army, yet Clarice, the Dul:e of f\'ltre, of whom T had no favour to expect, 
 was then minister of war, and signalized his zeal by the most ultra violence; Lord Castle- 
 reagh was in Paris; wc heard of arrests every day, and officious friends repeatedly gave 
 us notice that my turn would come next, and that I was goin^ to be taken up. I did not 
 mind these reports for myself, but felt severely for the anxiety which they gave to my poor 
 mother. It will readily be believed that a residence in France was now odious to me, and 
 all that I wished for was to retire to some quiet corner where I might give myself uj) to 
 study, literature, and comforting the latter days of my only parent. We wrote to our 
 faithful friend, Mr Wilson, and in his answer he pressed us that we should try, at least for 
 sonie lime, whether a residence in England would not suit us; and that, from the liberality 
 of its institutions, our safety at least would be secured. It was with extreme reluctance 
 that I entered into this idea. I was brought up, as may well be imagined, in the greatest 
 dislike of that country which had enslaved my own, whose power had formerly destroyed 
 my father and all my family, and latterly overturned the hero to whose fortunes I had 
 attached myself, and ruined all my own prospects. Nevertheless I consented to try, and 
 make at least a visit to it. My mother addressed Sir Charles Stuart, the British ambassador, 
 for a passport. I'o the obliging dis]50sition and politeness of this gentleman, I render a 
 willing testimony. He said that he could not venture it on his own authority, but would 
 consult his government, and bad no doubt leave would be readily granted. The account 
 g;iven in the 51st number of the London New Monthly Magazine, of the subsequent transac- 
 tions with Lord Castlereagh, is perfectly correct, except that instead of happening after 
 my mother's marriage, they happened ten months before. The following letter, addressed 
 to my mother, and which closed them, I have preserved as a curiosity: — 
 
 " 'Paris, 5th November, 1815. 
 " 'Madam,— I regret that, until the last post, I received no answer from his majesty's 
 government respecting the representation transmitted to England, in favour of your son. 
 The question appears to have been referred to Ireland, and it is unfortunate that the disturb- 
 ances of that country should have prevented that favourable decision on the part of the 
 government which 1 had reason to hope for at the time you did me the honour to call. I 
 am, madam, with great respect, your obedient and humble servant, 
 
 " 'Charles Stuart.' 
 
 " On the extreme wisdom, liberality, and caution of this resolution, against one who had 
 left that country an infant twenty-one years before, and did not know a soul in it, and who 
 did rot even request to go there, but to visit England, I leave every reader to judge. I 
 took it as a very high compliment to my importance and abilities; for I had never dreamed 
 of being so dangerous a personage, or setting either the Lififey or Thames on fire. It may 
 well be believed, however, that I renounced instantly all idea of visiting England at that 
 time. 
 
 "We came at length to the conclusion, that the only country where I could live in 
 honourabla independence was in the United States of America. 'I'he final settlement of 
 our affairs compelled us, however, to remain several months longer in Paris. In the month 
 of July, 1816, our invaluable friend, Mr Wilson, learning our final resolution, came over to 
 France, and offered his hand and fortune to my mother, expressing his determination to go 
 with us to America. With what full approbation I seconded his demand, it is needless to 
 repeat. On the igth of August following they were married in the chapel of the British 
 ambassador; and, in the month of September, I parted from them both with a heavy heart, 
 and embarked at Havre de Grace for New York. 
 
 " My mother proceeded to Scotland with Mr Wilson, and both joined me in New York 
 before the year had gone round. In this free and hospitable country, the asylum of the 
 world, and where the victims of political and religious persecution meet from every quarter, 
 under the protection of liberty and equal laws, we were at length reunited — never more, I 
 hope, to be parted in this life. I have since lost my venerable friend and benefactor, but 
 my mother still survives, and I have yet the satisfaction of ministering to her comfort and 
 Iiappiness. Enjoying an honourable rank in the American army, and the proud title of a 
 free American citizen, united to the object of my early and constant affections, the only 
 daughter of my father's friend and countryman. Counsellor William Sampson, of New 
 York, (whose fate it is well known led him, like us, to this country, a victim in the cause 
 of liberty and of his native land), I feel at length like the sailor, who, after a stormy pas- 
 sage, returns to his home and finds himself clasped by nil the ties, and surrounded by all 
 the charities, that are dearest and most valuable to the human heart." 
 
 THE END, 
 
CAMERON, FERGUSON & CO.'S 
 
 POPULAR PUBLICATIONS. 
 
 HISTORICAL AND BIOGRAPHICAL. 
 
 New Ireland : Political Sketches and Personal Reminiscences of 
 Thirty Years of Irish Public Life. By A. M. Sullivan. Crown 
 8vo, 470 pages. Illustrated cover. Price i/, post free, 1/2; or 
 bound in cloth, 2/, post free for 2/3 in stamps. 
 
 The Confederate Chieftains: A Historical Tale of the Insh 
 
 Insurrection of 164 1. By Mrs. Sadlier. Super-royal 8vo, extra 
 green cloth. Price 3/6, post free for 4/; or in paper covers, 
 price i/, post free for 1/3 in stamps. 
 
 The History of Ireland, from the Siege of Limerick to the 
 
 Present Time. By John Mitchel. Demy 8vo, 576 pages, green 
 cloth. Price 3/, post free for 3/6 in stamps. People's Edition, 
 Coloured Emblematical Cover. Price 1/6, post free for 2/ in 
 stamps. ) 
 
 The History of Ireland, from the Earliest Period to the 
 
 Emancipation of the Catholics. By the Hon. Thomas D'Arcy 
 M'Gee, B.C.L. Crown 8vo, 768 pages, extra green cloth, full 
 gilt back. Price 3/, post free f«r 3/6 in stamps. Cheaper Edi- 
 tion, 1/6, post free for 2/ in stamps. 
 
 Barrington's (Sir Jonah) Sketches and Recollections of his 
 
 own Times. Crown 8vo, cloth. Price 3/6, post free for 3/9. 
 Cheaper Edition, paper covers, 1/6, post free for 1/9 in stamps. 
 
 History of the Irish Eebellion of 1798. By c. H. Teeiing. 
 
 Crown 8vo, cloth. Price 3/6, post free for 3/9. Cheaper 
 Edition, paper covers, 1/6, post free for 1/9 in stamps. 
 
 The History of the Irish Brigades in the Service of France, 
 
 from the Revolution in Great Britain and Ireland under 
 James II., to the Revolution in France under Louis XVI. By 
 John CoriQclius O'Callaghan. Demy 8vo, red cloth, 4/6, post 
 free, 5/. Cheaper Edition, picture covers, 2/, post free for 2/5 
 in stamps. 
 
 The Irish Brigade and its Campaigns in the Great American 
 
 War. By Captain D. P. Conyngham, A.D.C. Crown Svo, 
 Price i/, post free, 1/2. In extra green cloth, gilt back, price 3/, 
 post free for 2/3 in staiMK. 
 
r.T"r- 
 
 MISCELLANEOUS BOOKS. 
 Series 
 
 i i 
 
 »> 
 
 TEE WHITE ROSE OF KOUCIE : A Tale of the French 
 
 Revolution. Bv Miss O'Neil Daunt. Library Edition, Col. Cr., 
 FAITH AND FATHERLAND. By the Very Rev. Thomas N. 
 
 BuKKE. Crov/n 8 vo. Cloth, Gilt, ... 
 REFUTATION OF FROUDE AND OTHER LECTURES. By 
 
 the Very Rev. Thomas N. Burke. Crown 8vo, Cloth, 
 FATHER BURKE'S LECTURES, complete ; Splendid Volume 
 
 in Green Cloth, Gilt Emblematic Sides, Gilt Edges, 
 Do. do. do. Green Padded Morocco, 
 
 JOHN MITCHEL'S REPLY TO THE FALSIFICATION OF 
 
 HISTORY 
 THE STIRRING INCIDENTS "iN IRISH HISTORY (Ancient 
 
 and Modern). Roval 8vo, 
 FACTS AND FANCIES ABOUT FERNS : a Book for Fern 
 
 Growers. By John G. Nevvsham. Foolscap 8vo, with Coloured 
 
 Illustrations and Numerous Wood Engravin2;s, ... 
 READY RECKONER AND TRADESMEN'S ASSISTANT. 
 
 Cloth, Small Pocket Edition, 
 READY RECKONER. Large Print, Complete, with Profit, Dis- 
 count, and Interest Tables ; also. Wages Calculator. Leather, 
 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN SIMON SUGGS ; An American 
 
 Innocent with an Elastic Conscience, who always Fell on his 
 
 Feet. Crown 8vo, 
 THE PUBLIC SPEAKER'S GUIDE : or, The Whole Art of 
 
 Modern Oratory. Crown 8vo, 
 BRILLIANT CHAPTERS FROM MODERN IRISH HISTORY. 
 
 By A. M. Sullivan, No. 1, 
 
 Do. do. do. No. 2, 
 
 Do. do. do. No. 3, 
 
 Do. do. do. No. 4, 
 
 Price. 
 
 s. d. 
 
 1 
 
 2 
 
 2 
 
 3 6 
 5 6 
 
 6 
 
 3 
 
 6 
 
 6 
 
 1 
 
 1 
 
 6 
 
 2 
 0* 2 
 2 
 2 
 
 OF 
 
 HISTORICAL ROMANCES, SOCIETY AfiD SENSATION NOVE 
 
 Each Free hy Post for 1/3 in Stamps. 
 
 Series '-SI.'' 
 
 M'HENRY'S IRISH TALES: containing " The Insurgent Chief " and "Hea 
 
 Steel." Crown 8vo, Boards. 
 ROMANCES OF THE HEROISM OF SCOTLAND: containing the "Sc( 
 
 Chiefs" and "St. Clair of the Isles." Crown 8vo, Boards. 
 
 CAMERON, FERGUSON & CO., Glasgow. 
 
E GREEN AND THE RED : or, Historical Tales and Legends of Ireland. 
 Crown 8vo, Pictorial Enamelled Boards. 
 
 DONNELL AND THE NORMAN DE BORGOS. Crown 8vo, Boards. 
 MANGES OF SOLDIER LIFE AT HOME AND ABROAD. 
 10 CAN HE BE ? By Miss Nethercott. 
 
 E HEIRESS : or, A Slave of Circumstances. By Ernest De Lancey Pierson. 
 RIFT : or, A Father's Remorse. By Nemo. 
 
 5T AND FOUND : or, The Mystery of the Iron Vault. By William Scott. 
 E fair ENCHANTRESS : or, How She Won Men's Hearts. By Miss M. 
 
 K. Keller. 
 
 ULINE'S TRIAL. A Novel. By Lydia D. Cottrtney. 
 TE FINE OLD NOVELS. Crown 8vo, 512 pages. Pictorial Cover. 
 ACKERAY'S TALES. Crown 8vo. 
 ::;KENS' tales. Crown 8vo. 
 MANGE OF THE FOREST AND PRAIRIE. Demy 8vo, Coloured Pictorial 
 
 Cover. 
 \STERIES OF CITY LIFE, Budget of Sensation Stories. Demy 8vo, Coloured 
 
 Pictorial Cover. 
 lXWELL'S famous novels. Crown 8vo, Pictorial Cover. 
 
 Series ''2S:." 
 RARY OF ROMANCE AND ADVENTURE. Illustrated Cover, Printed in Colours 
 
 Each Free by Post for 8d. in Stamps. 
 
 [E SCOTTISH CHIEFS. By Jane Porter. 
 
 . CLAIR OF THE ISLES : or, The Outlaw's Revenge. 
 
 [E INSURGENT CHIEF : or, The Pikemau of '98. 
 
 CARTS OF STEEL : or, The Celt and Saxon. 
 
 lLLOPING O'HOGAN : A Romance of the Days of Sarsfield. 
 
 CHAEL DWYER, The Insurgent Captain. 
 
 )SE WALDRON : or, A Drag on the Wheel. 
 
 ERN AS FATE. Bv Mrs. Soutiiworth. 
 
 BIL BERNERS : or," Tried for her Life. By Mrs. Southworth, 
 
 -ORA MACDONALD : or. The Wanderings cf Prince Charlie. 
 
 LUE HEART'S TRIALS : A Tale of Ireland and America. 
 
 HN WARD PREACHER. By ALargaret Delaxd. 
 
 ^ WAR WITH SOCIETY : or. Tales of the Outcasts. 
 
 ^RALD AND AUGUSTA : or, The Irish Aristocracy. 
 
 CK MASSEY : A Tale of the Irisli Evictions. 
 
 IE MISTLETOE AND THE SHAMROCK : or. The Chief of the North. 
 
 iANCHE OF BRANDY WINE : or. The War of Independence. 
 
 JNTS AND SINNERS : A Romance Illustrating the Oricriu of Irish Outracre. 
 
 IE EDINBURGH DETECTIVE. Bv James M'Levy. " 
 
 CAMERON, FERGUSON & CO., Glasgow. ~^^~" 
 
LIBRARY OF STANDARD AUTHORS. 
 
 J> 
 
 Series ** 
 
 Demy 8vo, 128 Pages, Coloured Illustrated Covers. 
 
 Price 3 J. Each, or Free hy Post for 4kl. in Slamp.'i. 
 
 MASTERMAN READY. By Captain 
 
 Mahryat. 
 HANDY ANDY. Ry Samuel Lover. 
 RORY O'MORK. By Samuel Lover. 
 WHY DID HE MARRY HER? By 
 
 Miss DuPUY. 
 THE LADY OF THE ISLE. By Mrs. 
 
 South WORTH. 
 VALENTINE VOX. 1st Series. 
 VALENTINE VOX. 2nd Series. 
 
 WHY DID HE LOVE HER? 
 
 EiJZA A. DupUY. 
 HECTOR O'HALLORAN. By W. 
 
 Maxwell. 
 THE SCARLET LETTER. -E 
 
 Nathaniel Hawthorn. 
 CONINGSBY. By Benjamin Disra 
 HE WOULD BE A CENTLEMi 
 
 By Samuel Lover. 
 
 (; 
 
 j> 
 
 Series 
 
 Crown 8vo, 128 Pages, Coloured Illustrated Covers. 
 
 Price 3d. Each, or Free hy Post for 4d. in Stamxis. 
 By Captain Marryat. 
 
 MIDSHIPMAN EASY. 
 PETER SIMPLE. 
 RATTLIN THE REEFER. 
 
 PIRATE AND THREE CUTTERI 
 
 POOR JACK. 
 
 THE KING'S OWN. 
 
 Series ''-"ST.'' 
 
 Small Foolscap 8vo, 256 to 262 Pages, Coloured Illustrated Cove: 
 
 Price 3d. Each, or Free hy Post for 4d. in Stamps. 
 
 TEDDY'S VENTURE. 
 MARJORIE DEANE. 
 
 BETWEEN TWO LINES. 
 DOWN THE SLOPE. 
 
 ({ 
 
 5» 
 
 Series 
 
 Small Crown 8vo, 96 Pages, in Coloured Illustrated Covers, 
 
 Price 2d. Each, or Free, hy Post for 3d. in S(am2'><i. 
 
 THE SCOUTS OF THE WINOOSKI: or, Nathan the Spy. 
 THE VULTURE'S BRIDE: or, Jack \V\yndon's Trail. 
 'VWV. RA.NOER : or, The Green Mountain Boys of '7G. 
 THE MASKED GUIDE. 
 
 CAMERON, FERGUSON & CO., Glasgow. 
 
IE LONE HUNTER OP CHESTNUT VALLEY. 
 3E PANTHER SLAYER: or, Eugenia's Triumph. 
 SE FOREST MYSTERY : or, Lazy Bill's Adventure. 
 5E PRIVATEER AND THE CUTTER. 
 
 •a? "^7<ir c» :^ lo 3^ 3sr litr 3?ar cs> -^sr :k3 3Di s , 
 
 Series " "^J^." 
 
 Small Foolscap 8vo, 128 to 144 Pages, Coloured Illustrated Covers. 
 Price 2d. Each, or Free hy Post for 3d. in Stamps. 
 
 [LL ROLFE THE NIGHT HAWK. 
 RINCE OF FRAUD. 
 
 DEEP GAME : or, Conspiracy foi 
 
 Slillions. 
 RANSOMED. 
 
 NEW CLIMAX SERIES. ' 
 
 Series ''"BOLy 
 
 emy Svo, Coloured Illustrated Covers. Containing 128 Columns 
 
 Printed in Colours. Price 2d. Each, or Free hy Post for 3d. in Stamps. 
 
 NOBLER VENGEANCE: or, The 
 Lady of Lee Court. 
 
 HE SECRET HELPER : A Tale of 
 Love and Crime. 
 
 HE LOVER'S STRATAGEM. 
 
 HE NORTHERN SCOUT. 
 
 HE SPIRIT OF THE WAVE : A Ro- 
 mance of the Old and the New World. 
 
 HE LIGHT DRAGOONS : A Tale of 
 Romance and Adventure. 
 
 HE PIONEERS OF KENTUCKY: 
 A Tale of Adventures, Trials, and 
 Triumphs. 
 
 HE VERMONT RANGER 
 Silver Pond. 
 
 'HK RED SCOUT : or, The Outlaw's 
 Revenge. 
 
 •HE RETURN OF THE WAN- 
 DERER. ' 
 
 or. 
 
 Tl 
 
 i< 
 
 or. The 
 
 or 
 
 THE TEXAN RANGER 
 
 Rose of the Rio Grande. 
 JACOB GRAY'S REVELATIONS 
 
 The Masked Ball. 
 AGNES FALKLAND : A Story of Con 
 
 tinental Times. 
 THE BETRAYED : or, The Child o 
 
 Mystery. 
 THE RED TRAIL: or, The Creel 
 
 Chief's Captive. 
 THE FOREST RANGER : A Tale o 
 
 Wild Adventure. 
 The SECRETS OF THE OLD SMITHY 
 THE MOUNTAIN OF GOLD: or, Th. 
 
 Priestess of the Sun. 
 WILL 0' THE WISP, the Bandit Queen 
 
 or, The ^Mountain Twins. 
 THOROUGHBRED THE SPORT: or 
 
 The Thugs of Rocky Bar. 
 
 CAMERON, FERGUSON & CO., Glasgow. 
 
?he *' Rocky Mountain" Series of Penny Novels 
 
 . Series ''lE^.'' 
 
 Crown 8vo, 40 Pages, Illustrated Covers. 
 
 Price Id. Each, or Free by Post for l^d. in Stamps. 
 
 OM PINTLE. 
 
 HE CANNIBAL CHIEF. 
 
 HE TRACK OF THE AVENGER. 
 
 HE SPY OF THE COLONY. 
 
 HE BRANDED BRIGAND. 
 
 HE BANDIT'S DAUGHTER. 
 
 HE STEEL BELT. 
 
 JEANETTE WETMORE. 
 THE RIVER PHANTOM. 
 THE SKELETON SCOUT. 
 THE QUADROON SPY. 
 PUT MARTIN. 
 THE OUTLAW'S BRIDE. 
 
 [he '^Wild West'' Series of Penny Novel 
 
 Series ''^J' 
 
 Foolscap 8vo. , 40 Pages, Illustrated Covers. 
 Each One Penny, or Free by Post for l^d. in Stamps, 
 
 THE PHANTOM HORSEMAN. 
 
 WINWOOD THE FUGITIVE 
 
 BLACK RALPH : or, the Mysterious Belt. 
 
 THE SCOUT OF THE WEST. 
 
 THE SOLDIER OF FORTUNE. 
 
 THE OCEAN BLOODHOUND : or, the Convict Brothers. 
 
 THE WRONGED MOTHER: or, Jessie's Romance. 
 
 THE RICAREE'S REVENGE. 
 
 ]ooks to Create Laughter and Cheer the Social Circl 
 
 RARE FUM FOR THE MILLION. 
 
 Each One Penny, or Free by Post for l^d. in Stamps. 
 
 RACY IRISH ANECDOTES. 
 GAMES FOR THE FAMILY CIRCLE. 
 BURLESQUE ORATIONS AND NEGRO DROLLERIES. 
 BOB RIDLEY^S DARKEY STORIES, 
 SAMBO'S JOCKER : or the Laughter Maker. 
 - THE NEGRO RECITER. 
 
 BURLESQUE LECTURES AND DARKEY CONVERSATIONS. 
 
 CAMERON, FERGUSON <& CO., Glasgow^ ^ 
 
rhe Cheapest Series of Books for Pianoforte in the Markel 
 
 Equal to Best Shilling Books. 
 
 jlach Book is complete in itself, and contains generally from Fifty to Sixt^ Popul< 
 Melodies. Full Music size, 24 Pages, in Illustrated Covers. 
 
 Each Free hy Pout for 8d. in Stamps. 
 
 >IXTY SCOTTISH MELODIES. 
 ^LB^TY-FOUR AIRS OF ALL NATIONS. 
 7IFTY-TW0 AMERICAN AND NEGRO MELODIES. 
 SCOTTISH DANCE MUSIC, consisting of Reels and Strathspeys. 
 SELECTION OF WALTZES, POLKAS, SCHOTTISCHES, &c. 
 
 EBi^p; FT^acjHB 
 
 Each Free hy Post for 1/2^ in Stamps. 
 
 THE CASQUET OF BRITISH SONGS. 
 
 THE MAMMOTH COLLECTION OF COMIC AND SENTIMENTAL SONG 
 
 SIXPENNY SONG BOOKS. 
 
 With Handsome Illustrated and Coloured Covers. 
 
 Each Free hy Post for T^d. in Stamps. 
 
 THE GREEN FLAG OF IRELAND SONG BOOK. 
 
 THE EXILE OF ERIN SONG BOOK. 
 
 THE RISING OF THE MOON, and other Songs and Ballad3. 
 
 THE CRIMSON BANNER SONG BOOK. 
 
 THE BLARNEY COMIC SONG BOOK. 
 
 THE POPULAR BRITISH SONG BOOK. 
 
 THE BOOK OF ENGLISH AND SCOTTISH SONGS. 
 
 THE BUDGET OF FINE OLD ENGLISH SONGS. 
 
 ARMY AND NAVY SONG BOOK. 
 
 THE "MONSTERS' ENGLISH SONG BOOK. 
 
 THE "MONSTER" IRISH SONG BOOK. 
 
 THE LAYS OF ANCIENT DERRY^ AND THE ORANGE BROTHERHOO 
 
 IMPERIAL SONG BOOK. 
 
 ^~ CAMERON, FERGUSON & CO., Glasgow. 
 
12 
 
 THE "GAIETY" SERIES OF 
 
 THREEPENNY SONG BOOKS. 
 
 Demy 8vo, 128 Pages, Enamelled Covers. 
 
 Each Free hy Post for 4^d. in Stamps. 
 
 'HE GAIETY SONG BOOK. 
 ONCERT HALL SONG BOOK. 
 
 80NGS. OF OUR DAY SONG BOOi' 
 HOME RULE SONG BOOK. 
 
 THREEPENNY SONG BOOKS. 
 
 Beautifully Illustrated and Coloured Covers. 
 Each Free hy Post for 4d. in Stamps. 
 
 THE YOUNG IRELAND PATRIOTIC SONG BOOK. 
 
 THE NATIONAL BALLADS OF OLD IRELAND. 
 
 THE HARP OF TARA IRISH SONG BOOK. 
 
 THE WEARING OE THE GREEN SONG BOOK. 
 
 THE PROTESTANT BOYS' SONG BOOK. 
 
 TONY PASTOR'S IRISH-AMERICAN COMIC SONG BOOK. 
 
 ALL THE NEW COMIC SONGS. 
 
 THE VERY LATEST NEW SONGS. * 
 
 SONGS TH]C PEOPLE ARE SINGING. 
 
 THE HISTORICAL AND OTHER SONGS OF THE MAIDEN CITY. 
 
 TWOPENNY SONG BOOKS. 
 
 THE "SCOTTISH" SERIES. 
 
 Crown 8vo, Floral Coloured Covers. 
 
 Each Free by Post for 3d. in Stamps. 
 
 THE BALLADS OF BONNIE SCOTLAND. 
 THE GOOD OLD SONGS OF SCOTLAND. 
 
 CAMERON, FERGUSON & CO., Glasgow. 
 
WE "CROWN" PENNY SONG BOOKS 
 
 Crown 8vo, 24 Pajies. 
 
 Each Frep. by Post for \\d. in Stcwijrs. 
 
 I.-THE ENGLISH SERIES. 
 
 'HE CONCERT HALL. 
 HE LONDON LADS. 
 HE BRITISH. 
 
 THE OLD SONGS OF ENGLAND. 
 THE MISTLETOE. 
 THE ROSE. 
 
 IL— THE SCOTTISH SERIES. 
 
 'HE THISTLE. 
 
 HE CLYDESIDE. 
 
 HE AYRSHIRE LADDIE. 
 
 ST. MUNGO. 
 
 THE CALEDONIAN, 
 
 SCOTTISH COMIC. 
 
 ^ew Penny Monster Songs, Jokes, &c 
 
 Demy Folic Size. 
 Each Free by Post for Ihd. in Stamps. 
 
 'HE O'DONNELL ABU SONG BOOK. 
 
 •HE IRISH BRIGADE SONG BOOK. 
 
 •HE GREEN BANNER SONG BOOK. 
 
 •HE RORY O'MORE SONG BOOK. 
 
 •HE NATIONAL SONGS OF OLD 
 SCOTLAND. 
 
 'HE COMIC SONGS OF OLD 
 SCOTLAND. 
 
 'HE ORANGE BANNER SONG 
 BOOK. 
 
 ^HE xMAIDEN CITY NO SUR- 
 RENDER SONG BOOK. 
 
 )ANDY JIMS NIGGER SONG 
 BOOK. 
 
 rANKEE PADDY'S SONG BOOK. 
 
 CHIMING BELLS. 
 
 K30D-BYE, MAGGIE, DARLING. 
 
 lOBERT EI^IMET SONG BOOK. 
 
 :HE NATIONAL LEAGUE. 
 
 :ilb: BOYS OF WEXFORD. 
 
 THE FELONS FOR OUR LAND. 
 THE GREEN ABOVE THE RED. 
 THE RED HAND OF ULSTER. 
 SONGS OF THE RIGHTS of MAN an 
 
 HYMNS OF LIBERTY. 
 TA-RA-RA-BOOM-DE-AY. 
 THE GIRLS OF LONDON. 
 MRS. MCCARTHY'S PARTY\ 
 TEACHING M'FADDEN TO WALT2 
 THE WILD BOYS OF LONDON. 
 IT TAKES A GIRL TO DO IT. 
 SPARE THE OLD MUD CABIN. 
 RISE, YE SONS OF WILLIAM. 
 YE LOY^A LISTS OF IRELAND. 
 BARNEY'S LOVE LETTER. 
 MY POLLIE WAITS FOR ME. 
 THE MOVE ON. 
 OUT ON THE RAN DAN. 
 FINE OLD SCOTTISH BALLADS. 
 
 CAMERON, FERGUSON & CO., Glasgow. 
 
!ew issue of the undernoted 
 
 SFSSS.9 
 
 
 BEAUTIFUL COLOURED FLORAL COVERS, 
 Each Free by Post for 8d. in Stamps. 
 
 -w 
 
 
 TI7» 
 
 :e 
 
 s t ptt; . ' rtM '^ ' ,-jr 
 
 r sr.U ! Lz:g 
 
 W W 
 
 IF O S. O? IS 32] 
 
 Mi 
 
 
 fm^ Til 
 
 The 
 
 I.- 
 
 6.- 
 
 7.- 
 8.- 
 
 Notes marked and figured lor the J'o- Keyed Instrumesst. 
 
 SIXPENCE each; or Free by Post for 
 
 7d. In Stamps. 
 
 -THE MELODEON WITHOUT A MASTER 
 -ENGLISH SONGS, AIRS, and DANCES. 
 -IRISH SONGS, AIRS, and DANCES. 
 -SCOTTISH SONGS, AIRS, and DANCEa 
 
 18.- 
 
 IE SHILLING each; or Free 
 
 1/2 in Stamps. 
 
 -SONGS and AIRS. 
 Selection of SACRED SONG 
 -GEMS of SONGS. 
 
 a Ow» vwT 
 
MUSIC BOOKS- 
 
 FOR THE CONCERTINA. 
 
 I. — Song Series. • 
 
 Sixpenny BooJcs — each Free by Post for 7d. in Stamps, 
 Shilling Boobs — each Free by Post for lj2 in Stamps. 
 
 Containing the WORDS and MUSIC of all the Songs, and admirably adapted : 
 Vocal Accompaniments to this Popular Instrument. Each Book done up 
 handsome Illustrated Cover printed in Colours. The whole of the No 
 marked for 10 and 20-keyed Concertinas. 
 
 THE TREASURY OF SONGS. Words and Music. Price Is. 
 
 SIXTY ENGLISH AND NATIONAL SONGS. Words and Music. 6d. 
 
 SIXTY SCOTTISH SONGS. Words and Music. 6d. 
 
 SIXTY AMERICAN AND NEGRO SONGS. Words and Music. 6d. 
 
 SEVENTY SACRED SONGS— Psakjis and Hymns. Words and Music. 6 
 
 CELESTIAL MELODIES, containino- Moody and Sankey's Hymns. Is, 
 
 THE MONSTER COLLECTION OF SONGS AND AIRS. Is. 
 
 II.— Adams's Sixpenny Instrumental Series. 
 
 With the notes marked and figured mostly for the 10 and 20-keyed InstrumenI 
 and each book containing complete Instructions and Scales. 
 
 Each Free by Post for 7cl. in Stamps. 
 
 THE CONCERTINA WITHOUT A MASTER. A Complete Tutor. 
 
 ONE HUNDRED CHRISTY^ MINSTRELS' AIRS. 
 
 ONE HUNDRED FAVOURITE AIRS— Songs, Dances, &c. 
 
 SCOTTISH DANCE MUSIC— Reels, Strathspeys, Country Dances, Jigs, 
 
 ONE HUNDRED AMERICAN AND ETHIOPIAN iSIELODIES. 
 
 III.— Adams's Shilling Instrumental Series. 
 
 Each Free by Post for 1/S in Stamps. 
 
 THE COMPLETE TUTOR FOR THE CONCERTINA. 
 T\VO HUNDRED AND THIRTY AIRS OF ALL NATIONS. 
 
 "" ' "ii^i ivnntt 
 
 CAMERON, FERGUSON & CO., Glasgow. 
 
FOR THE FLUTE- 
 
 Sixpenny Books — Each Free hy Post for 7d. in Stamps. 
 
 THE FLUTE WITHOUT A MASTER. A Complete Self-Instructor. 6ct. 
 
 ONE HUNDRED ENGLISH AND NATIONAL AIRS. 6d. 
 
 ONE HUNDRED SCJOTTISH AIRS. 6d. 
 
 ONE HUNDRED CHRISTY MINSTRELS' MELODIES. 6d. 
 
 FOR THE VIOLIN. 
 
 Sixpenny Books — Each Free hy Post for 7d. in Stamps. 
 
 THE VIOLIN WITHOUT A MASTER. A Complete Self-Instructor. 6d. 
 
 ONE HUNDRED ENGLISH AND NATIONAL AIRS. 6d. 
 
 ONE HUNDRED SCOTTISH AIRS. 6d. 
 
 ONE HUNDRED CHRISTY MINSTRELS' MELODIES. 6d 
 
 GREEN FLAG OF IRELAND. Music and Words. 6d. 
 
 DANCING TUNES. Arranged by Carl Volti. 6d. 
 
 FOR THE MELODEON. 
 
 The Notes Marked and Figured for the 10-Keyed Instrument. 
 
 Sixpenny Books — Each Free hy Post for 7d. in Stamps. 
 
 Shilling Books — Eaxh Free by Post for 1/3 in Stamps. 
 
 THE MELODEON WITHOUT A M ASTER. With a Selection of Popular Airs. 
 
 SONGS AND AIRS. Is. 
 
 GEMS OF SONG. Ls. 
 
 FASHIONABLE DANCE MUSIC. Is. 
 
 ENGLISH SONGS, AIRS, AND DANCES. Gd. 
 
 IRISH SONGS, AIRS, AND DANCES. 6d. 
 
 SCOTTISH SONGS, AIRS, AND DANCES. 6d. 
 
 GREEN FLAG OF IRELAND. Music and Words, 6d, 
 
 FOR THE PIANOFORTE. 
 
 Arranged by Mr. C. H. MORINE. 
 
 THE EXCELSIOR (COLLECTION OF PIANOFORTJ'^, MUSIC. Tiie Clica 
 and most comprehensive repcrLorv for thi:^ huUrunn-nt ever i!;sm;d ; oontaii 
 over COO Melodies. Half-Bound, 'Marbled i^^dges, 17/(3 ; J<>ec5 by Post, lS/8. 
 Do. do. Half-Bound Morocco, Gilt Edges, 21/ ; Free by Post, 
 
 CAMERON, FERGUSON & CO., Glasgow. 
 
15 
 
 LETTER WRITERS. 
 
 SHILLING. i 
 
 Free by PosL for }/'2 in Stamps. ' ; 
 
 : COiMPREHENSlVE LETTER WRITER Cloth, Gilt Title. J 
 
 SIXPENNY, 
 
 Free hy Post for 7^cL in Stamps. 
 BUSINESS CORRESPONDENCE. Cloth. 
 
 THREEPENNY. 
 
 Each Free hy Post for 4d. in Sta7)ips. 
 
 : LADIES' LETTER WRITER. Sewed, Coloured Floral Colour. 
 
 : GENTLEMEN'S LETTER WRITER. Sewed, Coloured Floral Cover. 
 
 : LOVE LETTER WRITER. Sewed, Coloured Floral Cover. 
 
 TWOPENNY. 
 
 Free by Post for 2^d. in Stamps. 
 : JUVENILE LETTER WRITER. Sewed, Fancy Cover. 
 
 RUDDER BONES'S LIBRARY OF AMUSEMENT. 
 
 Beautiful Illustrated Coloured Covers. 
 THREEPENNY. 
 
 Each Free hy Post for 4d. in Stamps. 
 
 GER DIALOGUES, LAUGHABLE DROLLERIES, AND FUNNV 
 
 STORIES. 
 GER COMICALriTES : or, Book of Ethiopian Wit and Humour, Jokey, 
 
 Dia]oi<-ue.s, and vStump Orations. 
 IGIIINCx GAS : A Reservoir of Nio-g-er Wit and Humour, 
 GER SERMONS and DISCOURSES to him DARKEY BREDDREN. 
 CK JOKER AND PLANTATION HUMOURIST. 
 
 CAMERON, FERGUSON & CO., Glasgow. 
 
CHEAP IRISH NATIONAL MUSIC FOR THE PE( 
 
 THREEPENCE PER SHEET. 
 
 Each Free hy Post for 4:d. in Stamxjs. 
 
 THE WEST'S ASLEEP. Words by Thomas Davis. 
 A NATION ONCE AGAIN. Words by Thomas Davis. 
 THE GREEN FLAG. Words by M. J. Barry. 
 O'DONNELL ABU. Words by M. J. M'Cann. 
 
 Pianoforte Accompaniments arranged by J. J. Johnson. 
 
 The Above Four Songs Complete in One Volume. Price One Sh 
 
 Free hy Pat for 1/3 in Stamjjs. 
 
 SIXPENNY. 
 In Coloured Illustrated Covers. 
 
 FJach Free hy Post for 8d. in Stamps. 
 
 BOOK OF SCOTTISH READINGS, in Prose and Verse, Series I. 
 Do. do. do. do. Series IL 
 
 BOOK OF POPULAR READINGS, in Prose and Verse. Ed. by Leopold W 
 THE BEST RECITATIONS, Comic and Sentimental. Sewed Coloured Floi 
 
 SIXPENNY AMUSING AND USEFUL LIBRARY. 
 
 Each Free hy Post for 1h,d. in Stain27s. 
 
 LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS, for Ladies and Gentlemen. Extra Cloth, i 
 EVENING PASTIMES; or. Amusements for Hearths and Homes. 
 
 Coloured Floral Covers. 
 IHE WHOLE ART OF MAGIC AND LEGERDEMAIN. Sewed, C( 
 
 Floral Covers. 
 DOMESTIC MEDICAL GUIDE. Sewed, Coloured Floral Covers. 
 COMMON SENSE COOKERY. Sewed, Coloured Floral Covers. 
 
 THREEPENNY LIBRAPiY FOR YOU' 
 
 Beautifully Coloured Floral Covers. 
 
 Each Free hy Post for 4.d, in Stamps. 
 
 PARLOUR GAMES AND FORFEITS. 
 
 THE LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS, AND GARDEN TELEGRAPH. 
 PARLOUR MAGIC FOR YOUNG FOLKS. 
 FUN AND WIT: Quibbles and Riddles for the Fireside. 
 NEVER— WHAT A GENTLEMEN NEVER DOES. A Comic Guide 
 Etiquette of Refined Society. 
 
 CAMERON, FERGUSON & CO., Glasgow. 
 
16 
 
 SIXPENNY. 
 
 Each Free, by Pof^t for Id, in Stamps. 
 
 rES'S DARKEE FUN : Readings, Recitations, Dialogues, Speeches, &c. 
 :^LE SAM'S SIDE-SPLITTER : A Book of Uproarious Mirthfulness. 
 
 SHILLING. 
 
 Free hy PoH for 1/2^ in Stampa. 
 
 JDDER SAM'S WORLD OF HUMOUR AND FOUNTAIN OF ROARING 
 FUN. Crown 8vo, Pictorial Cover. 
 
 meron, Ferguson & Co.'s Headline Copy Books. 
 
 Cheapest and Best in the Market, with the Lines carefully Engraved. 
 
 THE GAMBRSDGE OOPY BOOKS, 
 
 ith Engraved Head Lines, Tracing Models, and Vertical Guiding Lines. 
 CONTENTS or THE SERIES- 
 
 1. Initiatory Lessons. 
 
 2. Initiatory Lessons. 
 
 3. Combination of Short Letters. 
 
 4. Combination of Long and Short 
 
 Letters, 
 
 5. Combination of Long and Short 
 
 Letters. 
 
 6. Text, Short Words, and Cap- 
 
 itals. 
 
 7. Text, Geographical Words. 
 
 No. 8. Text, with Capitals, Full-Line 
 Words. 
 
 ,,11. Half- Text and Small. 
 
 ,, 15. Ladies' Current Hand, Initia- 
 tory. 
 
 ,, 16. Ladies' Current Hand, Small. 
 
 ,, 17. Ladies' Hand, Cards, Notes, 
 &c. 
 
 ,, 18. Commercial Forms and Orna- 
 mental Letters. 
 
 he Size is Post 4to, 9 J by 74 ins. The style of Penmanship is remarkable for 
 
 its Elegance and Freedom. 
 
 Each Book Contains 24 Pages Superfine Thick Cream Wove Paper, specially 
 mred for this Series. They are confidently recommended as the cheapest, 
 est, and best books published. 
 
 Pnce 2d. Each, or Free hy Post for 3d. in Stamps. 
 
 CAMERONj FERGUSON & CO., Glasgow, 
 
<4