Ex LIBRIS IRENE DWEN ANDREWS VICISSITUDES OF FAMILIES. Second o. o 1 2 a. E. Surtees . . . . . . 20 67 3 26 VICISSITUDES OF FAMILIES. One short note more from Mr. Surtees closes the cor- respondence : " Mainsforth, 21st May. ; " MR. URBAN, " I must request your insertion of the following subscriptions, which, as they have been received since Sir Thomas Conyers's decease, will be applied to the service of his descendants : s. c. Sir Henry Hetlierington, Bart. . . 10 Thomas Harrison, Esq., Stubhouse, co. Durham 15 Thomas Wilkinson, Esq., Oswald House, Durham 100 Sir Joseph Andrews, Bart 220 Sir Montagu Cholmley, Bart. . . . 500 "100 5s. have been subscribed, and the following sums have been expended : Clothes and linen, 15 ; debts discharged, 5 4s. lOd. ; lodging, and a gratuity for trouble, 8 8s. ; medical attendance, 4 13s. 6d. ; funeral expences, 19 19s. 6d. Some trifling articles have not been brought into the account. 47 remain for the ser- vice of the family, when the whole of the subscriptions shall have been received. "Yours, &c., " ROBERT SURTEES." A few lines more and my tale of the " Fall of Con- yers" is told. Magni stat nominis umbra ! The poor Baronet left three daughters, married in very humble life : Jane, to THE FALL OP CONYERS. 27 William Hardy ; Elizabeth, to Joseph Hutchinson ; and Dorothy, to Joseph Barker, all working men in the little town of Chester-le-Street. A time may yet come, perchance, when a descendant of one of these simple artizans may arise, not unworthy of the Conyers' ancient renown ; and it will be a gratifying discovery to some future genealogist, when he succeeds in tracing in the quarterings of such a descendant the unsul- lied bearing of CONYERS or DURHAM. 28 VICISSITUDES OF FAMILIES. 'Cinmars uf C0miorfrilk, to. These are the acts, Lothario, which shrink acres Into brief yards bring sterling pounds to farthings, Credit to infamy ; and the poor gull, Who might have lived an honour'd, easy life, To ruin, and an unregarded grave. THE CHANGES. THIS family held at one time a high social position, and were remarkable, moreover, for eccentricity and talent. In the reign of William III., I find the name of Cornelius Connor in the list of claimants at Chichester House, Dublin ; his claim referred to an interest in the lands of Kiltamra and Carrigdaugan, in the Barony of Muskerry, part of the confiscated estate of the Earl of Clancarthy. There is a story, that the father of Cornelius having lost his life when his son was an infant, by the brutality of a party of Cromwell's soldiers, the widow fled, carrying with her the child, to the town of Bandon, where she took a small house, in Gallow's-hill Street. The little Corne- lius was duly trained in the religious and political prin- ciples then prevalent in that town ; and (saith the legend), further to conciliate the anti-Irish spirit that predominated in the politics of the place and period, his THE O'CONNORS OF CONNORVILLE. 29 time-honoured patronymic of O'Connor was clipped down into the English-sounding Conner. I do not vouch for the strict truth of all the particulars of this statement, which rests on the oral tradition of persons whose accuracy was impaired, perhaps, by the long lapse of time, and also, perhaps, by a little propensity to romantic embellishment. It is said that the mother of Cornelius, anticipating from the troubled condition of the country that flight might be- come necessary, had wisely provided for such a contingency by quilting a large number of gold coins into her dress, and that with the money thus secreted, she supported her- self for a considerable time after she settled in Bandon. Cornelius married in due time, and became the father of " Daniel Conner, of Bandon-bridge, merchant," who made considerable purchases of land. It may be worth men- tioning, as a specimen of the rate at which landed pro- perty was then sold, that in March, 1702, Mr. Conner purchased 744 acres of the lands of Curryleagh and Pole- rick, in the Barony of Muskerry, county Cork, for 429 6s. 9d. At the same time he purchased "the Castle, Town, and Lands of Mashanaglass," in the same Barony, consisting of 567 acres, for the sum of 988. Mashanaglass was part of the confiscated estate of Do- nough McCarthy, Earl of Clancarthy. At a previous period, namely, in November, 1698, Mr. Daniel Conner had obtained, " by deeds of lease and release," a good part of the forfeited estate of one Justin M'Carthy, from Henry, Viscount Sydney, afterwards Earl of Romney, to whom it had been granted by King William the Third. This Daniel was the father of a numerous family. His son, George Conner, founded Ballybricken, beautifully 30 VICISSITUDES OP FAMILIES. situated near Cork harbour. He married Elizabeth South- well, and was father of Maryanne Conner, who, in 1778, married the second Lord Lisle, of Mountnorth, county Cork. The present Lord Lisle descends from that marriage. William Conner, son of Daniel, of Bandonbridge, mar- ried in October, 1721, Anne, daughter of Roger Ber- nard, Esq., of Palace Anne, brother of Judge Bernard, of the Common Pleas, founder of the Earl of Bandon's family. "William settled at Connorville, then called Ballyprevane, in 1727. He built Connorville House, and planted the domain. The mansion was large and commodious. The offices nearly surrounded two courts, and were on a scale of such magnitude as to resemble rather a village than the establishment of a country gentleman.* Here William Conner resided for many years, in the style of a person of affluence. His son, Roger Conner, married Anne Longfield, sister of Richard, Viscount Longueville. Roger kept open house, according to the fashion of wealthy Irish squires of his day. He had high notions of his own dignity. At a Cork assize he walked across the table in the court-house, in presence of the judge, conceiving that his personal im- portance gave him privileges from which meaner mortals were properly excluded. The judge, who did not know him, gave him a sharp reprimand. Shortly afterwards, the judge received, to his great surprise, a note from Mr. Conner, which was handed to him by Lord Longueville, requiring either an apology, or " satisfaction " at twelve paces. The judge was a man of peace ; and, as no hostile * Tiiis description rather applies to a later period. The offices were much enlarged in the succeeding generation. THE O'CONNORS OP CONNORVILLB. 31 meeting occurred, it is not improbable that he apologized. A pun of this fiery gentleman's is recorded. Being asked by a guest at his table what description of wine they were drinking, Roger replied that it was Pontick* wine, thereby implying that it had not been paid for. The family had now for some generations been known as Conners. Roger one day communicated to his sons that their true name was O'Connor, and that the later designation had been adopted from politic motives in the previous cen- tury. He had five sons ; of these, the three elder, Daniel (bora in 1754), William, and Robert (the founder of Fort- robert), declared that they would not resume their ancient name ; but the two younger, Roger and Arthur, thence- forth called themselves O'Connor. When Roger Conner was gathered to] his fathers, his fourth son, Roger O'Connor, resided at the family mansion of Connorville. The family were so wealthy, that the other brothers were handsomely provided for with landed estates. The two who assumed the name of O'Connor espoused ultra-patriotic political doctrines ; the three who remained ungraced with the Milesian continued sturdy partizans of Protestant ascendancy. Robert of Fortro- bert, in particular, was distinguished for his Orange zeal. He procured a man named Cullinane to give sworn evi- dence of treasonable acts against his brother Roger, who would have been hanged on Cullinane's testimony, if the credit of the witness had not been shaken by the affidavit of a gentleman named Spear. Robert built the spacious mansion of Fortrobert on the top of a hill adjoining the domain of Connorville. It is described by Mr. Daniel * 'Pon tick. 32 VICISSITUDES OF FAMILIES. Owen Madden, in an amusing account of the agitation of the period, as being fit for. a man of six or seven thousand a year. It is now, I believe, almost in ruins. Robert, although not in the army, had military tastes, which he gratified by commanding a corps (which he is said to have pronounced corpse) of cavalry-yeomanry. I have been told that he entertained exaggerated notions of the effi- ciency of this formidable " corpse," and that he sometimes frightened his wife by threatening to invade France at their head, seize Bonaparte, bring him to Ireland captive, and suspend him in an iron cage in the hall of Fortrobert ! He was in constant communication with the Government at Dublin Castle, to whom he furnished such representations as he thought proper of the state of the country, and of the measures required to overawe the population. He ac- companied one of his political epistles with a map of the barony in which he resided ; and in the map the domain of Fortrobert occupied so large a space as to leave but little room for the estates of all the other proprietors. On the part of the map in front of the mansion was written by the royal owner, " The finest station in the Barony for can- non !" He added a tremendous oath to give force to the hint, which, however, was not adopted by the Government. Indeed, his political correspondence was a curious affair. One of his epistles to the authorities at Dublin Castle, composed, it may be presumed, in a very genial mood, com- menced with the words, " My dear Government." Another epistle he displayed to Sir Francis Burdett, who at that time advocated " radical" politics. " Well, Sir Francis, what d'ye think of that ?" he complacently asked. " Ex- THE O'CONNORS OF CONNORVILLE. 33 cuse me, Conner," answered the radical Baronet, "I am not a judge of music ;" for the blotched and clumsy manu- script, of which many of the sentences were underscored with numerous lines by way of rendering them emphatic, bore a comical resemblance to an awkward and imperfect attempt at musical notation. Roger O'Conner, brother of Robert, was born on the 8th of March, 1763. There are some notices of him in the March number of Walker's Hibernian Magazine for 1798, at which period he was imprisoned in Cork gaol on a charge of high treason. The notices are the production of a very friendly pen. Here are a few extracts : " His father's family ranks among the first in Irish, as his mother does among the first of French families. The rudiments of learning he received at Lismore, under Dr. Jessop, from whence, in the year 1777, he entered Dublin College, where he was allowed to be the best scholar in Ms division, and the most idle lad in his class" We are hence to infer that his literary acquisitions were the fruits, not of labour, but of genius. Further on, his eulogist says : " In 1783 he quitted the Temple, and in Easter term of that year we find him called to the bar, which he never attended, being cursed, as he has often said, with too good an estate to make diligence at a profession necessary. But though he did not make a lucrative use of the bar, he generally attended at the assizes at Cork as an advocate (to use his own expression) unhired, in favour of the poor, where in numberless instances he succeeded." 2 D 34 VICISSITUDES OF FAMILIES. "We have next a sketch of his moral and physical qua-' lities : " His friends represent him as affable, open, unsuspi- cious, hospitable, lively, witty, and generous to a fault. In person he is above the middle size, well-proportioned, strong, and active. His countenance is animated, his eye lively, quick, and penetrating ; his appearance engaging and interesting." When the disguised Marquess of Argyle, in Scott's " Legend of Montrose," sounds his own praises to Cap- tain Dalgetty in the dungeon, that astute veteran exclaims, " I never heard so much good of him before. You must know the Marquess well or rather you must be the Mar- quess himself!" On grounds similar to those of the saga- cious Dalgetty, I have little hesitation in ascribing the above account of Roger O'Connor to Roger O'Connor himself, although, with becoming modesty, that gentleman did not append his signature to the description of his ad- mirable and attractive qualities. He deemed it only right that his countrymen should derive the fullest possible advantage from his gift and merits; and thinking, pro- bably, that virtue, when on a throne, is more influential than in any humbler station, he aspired to the crown of Ire- land. But he first tried his hand with the fair sex : " He married," says his biographer, " in the year 1784, Louisa Anna Strachan, eldest daughter of Colonel Stra- chan, of the 32 d Regiment of Foot." I have heard that Roger's conquest of this lady's heart was rapid. Visiting one day at the lodgings which ker family occupied in Cork, he found her alone, and inquired THE O'CONNORS OF CONNORVILLE. 35 where her father and other relatives had gone. " They went on a party of pleasure/' was her answer. " Suppose we get a chaise and follow them ?" said Roger, who pro- fessed himself shocked at their having left Miss Strachan in solitude. She consented. Roger forthwith procured u carnage; they drove off, not to the party of pleasure, however, but to some accommodating clergyman, by whom they were speedily married. Mrs. O'Connor died in 1787, leaving two children : Louisa, since dead ; and Roderick, who now, in his old age, enjoys large possessions in Van Diemen's Land. Roger's second wife was Wilhelmina, daughter of Ni- cholas Bowen, of Bowenscourt, Esq., by Wilhelmina Deane, of the Terrenure family. He married her in August, 1788, and had by her several children, among whom were Arthur, afterwards of Fortrobert, and the well-known Feargus O'Connor, whose chartist agitation in England is fresh in the memory of the reader. Of Roger's conjugal and parental qualities his biographer already quoted speaks as follows : " He is the best of husbands and of fathers ; indeed, with such a wife as Mrs, O'Connor is acknowledged by all to be, none but the worst of men could be other than the best of husbands. She is represented as a paragon worthy of imitation." When the progress and success of the French Revolution, coupled with causes of domestic dissatisfaction, encouraged a portion of the Irish people to attempt resistance to the English government, the surging mass of national discon- tent necessarily drew within its influence many wild, ad- venturous, undisciplined spirits, scantily provided with the 36 VICISSITUDES OF FAMILIES. ballast of steady, moral principles or political discretion. I have, indeed, no doubt that the part taken by Arthur O'Connor (younger brother of Roger) was honestly taken. He forfeited, by espousing the popular cause, all that selfish men hold most dear wealth, patronage, and title. He was Lord Longueville's favourite nephew, and his destined heir ; and his Lordship had sufficient influence to have obtained for him a peerage, had Arthur been a pliant dis- ciple of the school of Pitt and Castlereagh. Roger's insurrectionary plans, his design of fortifying Connorville to resist a descent from the king's troops, the failure of that design, his imprisonment in various jails, his wild and inflammatory publications, are already known to many of my readers; and the narrative of them in even moderate detail would occupy too much of my space. His object in joining the insurgent councils, was, I believe, to wield the Irish sceptre. He claimed to be descended from the royal O'Connors. In a book which he published, entitled " Chronicles of Eri," the frontispiece presents his likeness, with his hand upon the Irish crown, and the legend inscribed underneath, " Chief of a pros- trate nation." His son Feargus records that at a later period he exclaimed, in what we must suppose to have been a fit of patriotic frenzy, "My arm is yet young enough to wield the sword to recover my country's crown." His hatred to British domination naturally extended itself to the article of taxes. During the continuance of the dog tax, the collector called on him one day for payment of the usual imposts. Roger returned as meagre a list of taxable articles as possible. ft Have you got no dogs ?" THE O'CONNORS OF CONXOKVILLE. 37 inquired the collector. " Not one," answered the repre- sentative of ancient Irish royalty. Just at this moment a favourite dog came running into the court-yard, in which the collector and Roger were standing. The peril of detection was imminent, but Roger suddenly exclaimed, with well-feigned alarm, " A mad dog ! a mad dog \" and forthwith he took refuge in the house, as if to escape from the rabid animal the collector followed in terror of a bite the dog was properly disposed of, and Roger, no doubt, kept the tax in his pocket. When Bonaparte was said to meditate the invasion of Ireland, Roger determined to receive his imperial majesty with Irish hospitality. In order to entertain the emperor in a mansion not wholly unsuited to his dignity, Roger purchased Dangan Castle, in the county Meath, the family seat of the Earls of Mornington. Dangan was then a magnificent place. What it afterwards became may be learned from the following account, written by an eye- witness, who visited the park in 1843. "Arrived at the margin of the demesne," says this writer, "we entered a narrow avenue by an iron gate, which was opened by a woman whose house was one of two or three low-thatched huts. There were no trees shading the avenue ; but a high thorn hedge, bushy, wild, and lofty, skirted it on either side. W r hen we had pro- ceeded three or four hundred yards, the park, that had once been finely wooded, but which, like a bald head, with a tree here, and two there, and a few more stunted and denuded of their ornamental branches, beyond this park, with its fine valleys and finer eminences, once so magni- 38 VICISSITUDES OP FAMILIES. h'cently wooded, now so shabbily bare, opened upon our view. The road went towards the left, and again wheeled to the right. On the brow of a gentle slope stood tbe castle, like a huge, ill-shaped bam grey, treeless, shelter- less, and in most part roofless." It had, in fact, been burned during the occupancy of Roger O'Connor. It was insured for a considerable sum ; I have heard for 7000 ; Roger received the amount of the insurance, a welcome supply to a gentleman whose system of finance was none of the most thrifty, and who had perhaps been put to inconvenient cost in making preparations for a visit from Bonaparte. When the castle was burned, it needs not be said that Roger broke up housekeeping. He decamped from Dangan; and three of his sons, Arthur, Feargus, and Roger, bent their steps to Fortrobert, where they domesticated themselves with their uncle Robert, who had three daughters, co-heiresses. The sentimental reader will readily anticipate the result. Marriages followed in due course. Robert of Fortrobert died in or about 1820, and Arthur O'Connor, elder brother of Feargus, became Jure uxoris, the master of Fortrobert. He died in 1828, leaving two sons. Feargus O'Connor, by family arrangements needless to particularize, became the occupant of the house and demesne. Feargus printed a sketch of his own career in successive numbers of a Chartist magazine, entitled " The National Instructor." To the student of human character, this autobiography is extremely amusing, from the personal traits unconsciously disclosed by the writer. The propen- sity to boast is laughably manifest in every page ; I might THE O'CONNORS OF CONNORVILLE. 39 almost say in every sentence. Take a few passages as specimens : " My grandfather was the wealthiest man in the kingdom, and kept the most splendid establish- ment." " The people not only loved, but adored, both my father and my uncle Arthur. They were, perhaps, two of the finest-looking men, the most eloquent men, and the most highly-educated men, in the kingdom." " My uncle Arthur made the most splendid speech ever deli- vered, upon the question of Catholic Emancipation." " I remember the time when my brother Roderick had four magnificent hunters, my brother Frank a splendid pony called ' Chick/ my brother Arthur as splendid a pony. My brother Roger took his airing every day in a little chariot, a splendid covered carriage drawn by four goats magnificently harnessed." Of his progress at school, he says, " Although always flogged for not having my lesson, during the eight years I never missed the head premium in my class in everything." Of ances- tral dignity "My father was so proud of his descent from the Irish kings, that he would not allow a servant or labourer to call his sons or daughters * Master' or 'Miss.' One day one of the labourers told my father that he wanted to see Master Arthur. ' Master Arthur !' exclaimed my father; ' you may as well say Master Duke of York, or Master Prince of Wales.' " Of Feargus's forensic ability we have the following, among many other instances : " Twenty-three Irishmen were in- dicted for the murder of two policemen, Flint and Baxter. . . . The whole onus of this important case was thrown on my shoulders. The trial lasted thirteen hours, while 40 VICISSITUDES OP FAMILIES. single-handed I had to contend against the six ablest bar- risters at the ^bar, when, to the great dismay and mortifi- cation of my legal opponents and the magistrates on the bench, I succeeded in acquitting every one of the prisoners." In another place we have an instance of Feargus's skill in horseflesh. Starting with a borrowed sum of sixty pounds to be expended in horsejobbing, he trafficked so well there- upon that in a few months he became the master of " seven splendid hunters and two grooms." But, with all this brag and swagger, Feargus O'Connor was undoubtedly a very clever fellow. He had many capabilities, but his greatest talent lay in popular decla- mation. Like his father, he was exceedingly restless and ambitious. The achievement whereby he first acquired notoriety was his successful contest for^the county of Cork in 1832. In the summer of 1831 a great movement against tithes and the Union became general through Ireland ; the whole kingdom was astir; eloquence was in popular de- mand, and everybody who could make a speech, or who believed that he could make one, gave the public the full benefit of his oratory on one side or the other. The combination against tithes was unprecedented. Millions of people had confederated to pay no tithe, and to abstain from purchasing any property seized for tithe. Meetings to encourage opposition to the hated impost were everywhere held. Feargus had numberless oppor- tunities for the display of his declamatory powers. Of his talents as a popular declaimer, I shall quote two de- scriptions : the first from " Ireland and her Agitators," THE O'CONNORS OP CONNORVILLE. 41 written by his relative, and (at that time) fellow -agitator, Mr. Daunt. " Those who have not heard him in public/' says Mr. Daunt, "and who have only judged of his abilities from his printed effusions, have invariably done great injustice to his powers. He was remarkably ready and self-possessed ; he was capable of producing extraordinary popular effect ; he had very great declamatory talent ; he had also great defects. As a stimulating orator in a popular assembly, he was unexcelled. It is true he dealt largely in bombast, broken metaphor, and inflated language ; but while you listened, these blemishes were altogether lost in the infec- tious vehemence of his spirited manner. You were charmed with the melodious voice, the musical intonations, the astonishing volubility, the imposing self-confidence of the man, and the gallant air of bold defiance with which he assailed all oppression and tyranny. The difference between his spoken and printed harangues was surpris- ingly great." Now hear Mr. Daniel Owen Madden's account of the orator's powers : "There was," says Mr. Madden, "a wild, Ossianic spirit about O'Connor's spirit-stirring effusions that was altogether different from O'Connell's wearisome blarney and incessant cajolery. As men of talent and mind, it would be absurd to institute any comparison between them; but, as Irish popular speakers, Feargus was in some respects superior to O'Connell. Though he had no poetical powers, he had strong poetical feelings, and to 42 VICISSITUDES OF FAMILIES. these he often gave vent in speeches of a most romantic character, whose effect was not the less powerful because they would not bear the criticism of the closet . . He played the part to perfection of an Irish chieftain, and addressed the repealers rather as his gallant clansmen than as his fellow-citizens or comrades. In truth he was a picturesque agitator." * In Feargus's character there was a strong infusion of romance. Adventurous and self-confident, he was inca- pable of being deterred from any political experiment by its apparent difficulties. It was said of him, that if the papal throne were vacant, he would offer himself with the utmost composure as a candidate for the popedom, if the notion caught his fancy. At the outset of his agitation, seat in parliament for the county of Cork seemed almost as much beyond his reach as the papal tiara. He was nearly unknown ; and with those who did know him, the penumbral shadow of some of his father's irregular exploits created a large amount of prejudice against the son. This prejudice Feargus soon neutralized by the vivacity and frankness of his very ingratiating manners, and by his loud and constant declarations of unbounded fealty to O'Connell. He was full of frolic, told good stories, and threw himself con amore into whatever sort of merriment was going; and there is, perhaps, nothing that disarms * I have heard that Mr. Daunt contemplated writing a novel, of which Feargus O'Connor's adventures were to form the groundwork. The subject furnishes capital materials for such a book. THE O'CONNORS OF CONNORVILLE. 43 your dislike so much as the sense of being amused. Fear- gus was uncommonly amusing. Queer stories were told about his skittish antics, and his reputation for frolic naturally served to promote his popularity. Such was the whimsical genius who conceived the idea of wresting the representation of the largest of the Irish counties from the aristocratic families amongst whom it had come to be considered as a sort of heirloom. They had for a long time formed a powerful combination, of which the strength seemed the more impregnable from a continuance that almost amounted to prescription. Fear- gus was by no means disposed to yield them an inch on. the score of dignity. He was well descended, and allied by blood to some of the southern noblesse. Many of his nearest relatives stood high among the landed gentry of the country. He was, on the whole, a decidedly interest- ing agitator. At Fortrobert, a large and gloomy mansion on the top of a commanding eminence, he seldom saw any other company than a very few intimate associates and relatives. A mystery seemed to overshadow him. The house he inhabited had been built by his uncle Robert, who, as we have already mentioned, was a man of ultra Orange politics, and during that gentleman's life had been the scene of many a Tory revel. Various questionable deeds, the result of over-zealous orangeism, were laid at the door of the defunct, of some of which Feargus was the historian. His ghost was said to haunt the neighbouring wood of Carrigmore, where, at midnight, it careered with lightning speed at the head of a spectral hunt, with many a shrill whoop and view -hollow that curdled the blood of 44 VICISSITUDES OF FAMILIES. superstitious eld. Feargus, during the lifetime of the phantom sportsman, had lived at various periods a good deal on his wits. He had once run away from his father's house, and spent a summer haymaking in Wiltshire. At another time he took a farm in the county Cork, on which he personally laboured with industry and skill. He always alluded to his fathers pecuniary losses as having been incurred in the cause of Irish freedom, [and boasted of belonging to a race which had furnished many martyrs to patriotism. He made a good deal of political capital out of the protracted exile of his uncle Arthur. So Feargus issued forth from his fastness at Fortrobert, equipped with some qualifications for acquiring popularity. There was in his past career enough of mystery to pique the public curiosity. He was, through different ancestral lines, of " good ould blood." He was sprung from a family which furnished at least one respectable political martyr. He was a capital horseman and a desperate fox- hunter. His manners were very facetious. He was quite inexhaustible in thundering declamation. Voluble and vituperative, he assailed with unsparing abuse and comical sarcasm the parties obnoxious to popular hatred ; and the Catholic populace soon became enthusiastic in favour of the gallant Celtic prince, the descendant, as he boasted, of the Ard Righ Roderick, who exhorted them in words of fire to struggle for their creed and country. The hustings of Cork afforded an opportunity for ancestral boasts too tempting to be resisted. He informed the electors that he was desirous, by his candidature, to afford them an occasion of ejecting from the representation the THE O'CONNORS OP CONNORVILLE. 45 new families ; videlicet the Shannons, Kingstons, and Bandons ; and he told Lord Bernard on the hustings, that the best feather in his lordship's cap was some ancient connection with the O'Connor family. While thus confronting the county aristocracy, he was anxious to cultivate the regard of the Catholic clergy and the democracy. He talked of convoking a meeting of the Catholic priesthood of the county under his own pre- sidency, in order to deliberate upon measures for securing the perpetual exclusion of Whig and Tory from the re- presentation. To enlarge his influence, he got up a public entertainment to himself at Enniskean. The " Great Public Dinner to Feargus O'Connor, Esq.," was duly advertised in the Cork newspapers. The sale of tickets was at first very slack, and the dinner committee was penuriously stingy. Feargus was, therefore, obliged "to purchase the eatables and drinkables ; but he was indem- nified for this outlay by a brisk demand for tickets on the day of the dinner. Mr. Daunt presided ; the speeches were partly in Irish, partly in English ; the eloquence was of the most patriotic and fiery description ; the farmers were enchanted ; it was midnight when the guest and chairman left the banquet-hall amid the rapturous cheering of the company. Their grooms had, it seems, got engaged in the noisy festivity ; not a horse was forthcoming but a veteran hunter of Daunt's ; the chairman, the guest, and a newspaper-reporter all mounted the animal and in this primeval fashion they cantered briskly on to Fortrobert, O'Connor making the moonlit welkin ring with his bois- terous music. The next publications of the Cork news- 46 VICISSITUDES OF FAMILIES. papers contained a magnificent account of the Great En- niskean Demonstration. Feargus now went ahead. Many of the Tory squires, who had at the outset considered his success impossible, began to entertain doubts on the subject. His style of public speaking was canvassed by the fox-hunting gentry, some of whom pronounced him " a devilish fine fellow." It was also a subject of discussion how he raised the sinews of war. It was known that his father wasted his own patrimony in a wild career of extravagance. Mr. Hedges Eyre, of Macroom Castle, saw Feargus flourishing a huge bundle of bank-notes on a race-course, and ex- pressed his unsophisticated wonder where the d he got them ! As the autumn advanced, the agitators redoubled their activity. Meetings multiplied ; the electors were exhorted to stand by their colours, aud assured that if they deserted Ireland at her need, " they would deserve to be dragged upon hurdles to the gallows, as their fathers before them had been, by the old hereditary enemy." Exhortations such as these were unquestionably very effective. O'Con- nor was a Protestant, but he took the Catholic populace by storm, by vigorously denouncing the detested tithe-system, and telling piquant stories of Protestant ecclesiastical mismanagement. He boasted that he " had made the tear of bitter disappointment fall in the very pulpit." He professed himself conscientiously anxious to relieve the religion he belonged to from the clog of the tithe-system. On the other hand, nothing could be more profoundly deferential than his demeanour towards the Catholic clergy. THE O'CONNORS OF CONNORVILLE. 47 " The revered and saintly pastors of the Irish people" " the venerated guardians of the people's faith" epithets such as these he was accustomed to bestow upon them in tones of affectionate and reverent enthusiasm. He made it his boast that he was personally acquainted with a greater number of Catholic priests than any other layman in Ire- land; and his unctuous manner seemed to imply how profoundly he appreciated the happiness and honour of so great a privilege. Nor did he forget to cultivate the regards of the fair sex. At the close of a public meeting (I think at Mill Street) he declared that as the men had had the day to themselves, the evening should be given to the ladies; whereupon he called for music, got up an impromptu dance, and led off with the innkeeper's wife. The autumn passed. "Winter advanced, and the election for the county was at hand. O'Connor's colleague was Mr. Garret Standish Barry of Lemlara, a Catholic gentle- man of exemplary character and ancient descent. He, too, had tried his hand, during the summer and autumn, at the work of agitation. He had attended several of the meetings where congregated thousands welcomed Feargus with their boisterous acclamations. The contrast between the candidates was amusing. Mr. Barry was respectfully received, as a Catholic candidate recommended by the priests. Feargus was greeted with enthusiasm, as the gal- lant champion of the people's rights, the hero who si ruck terror into their tyrants, and who vowed to achieve their deliverance. Feargus's daring defiance of all conceivable opponents, and his vehement denunciations of English misrule, contrasted laughably with the quiet, mouse like 48 VICISSITUDES OF FAMILIES. demeanour of his undemonstrative colleague, who, when O'Connor had wound up a stormy oration in the midst of vociferous applause, was wont to address to the electors a few quiet, gentlemanly sentences, in which any strong political predilection was not easily discoverable. The personal appearance of the candidates completed the con- trast. Mr. Barry had neat, and rather formal features, and a pair of trim, black whiskers. The shaggy honours of Feargus's head were foxy, his face was ugly, and his countenance haggard. To understand fully the sources of O'Connor's popu- larity, the reader should bear in mind that at the period of his agitation there existed in Ireland a widely-spread hostility to the legislative union. The Irish people, deprived of their resident legislature, felt precisely as the English people would feel, if labouring under a similar deprivation. If any neighbouring nation contrived to annihilate the parliament at Westminster, and to exercise legislative power over England, it will be readily owned that the first instinct in every Englishman's mind would be to recover for England her national power of self- legislation. As Englishmen would feel in such a case, so did Irishmen feel; and to that feeling Feargus ad- dressed himself with great inflammatory talent. It is true, that his attempts to reason the question of repeal were contemptible, for he was destitute of the requisite information on the subject, as also of natural logical power. But his fiery invocations of the Spirit of Liberty, and his passionate exhortations to the people to resist all oppres- sion, were little impaired by the orator's lack of nearly all THE O'CONNORS OF CONNORVILLE. 49 the constitutional and statistical knowledge that bore upon the question. At length the day of battle arrived. The county Cork election commenced towards the end of December. There were pitted against each other two forces, apparently very unequal. O'Connor's force was the freize-coated host. They had been previously untried. They were greatly in the power of their landlords ; and some doubts were felt whether landlord influence might not warp their fidelity to the promises they had freely and willingly tendered to O'Connor in his canvass. Feargus spoke for an hour on the day of nomination with his wonted energy, and ended by parodying Burns : " Now's the day and now's the hour, See approach the Tory power, Tithes and Slavery !" While the candidates and their friends harangued within the court-house, the streets of Cork presented an exciting spectacle. Apparently interminable detachments of the country voters who had travelled all night, streamed into the city, each band headed by its parish priest ; and it became a somewhat difficult task to provide accommodation for the enormous concourse. Some of them slept in the large Lancasterian school-room; others were placed in the apartments of the south monastery. Next day the voting went on vigorously. The landlord power of the county continued to put forth its utmost strength against the popular candidates. But in vain. " Fargus," as the multitude pronounced the name of their favourite, "had 50 VICISSITUDES OF FAMILIES. promised to vote for repale and against tithes ;" and for "Fargus" the people were resolved to incur whatever martyrdom their landlords might think it proper or expe- dient to inflict. Meantime every ordinary ruse was attempted to secure the defeat of O'Connor, or at least to diminish his majority. Various sham candidates were set up to spin out the time, and successively vanished. ' ' Fargus" was especially the mark for the enemy's hos- tility, a comparatively small amount of which glanced off from him to his colleague. "Whigs and Tories felt that if the task of dislodging them from the representation had been left to Mr. Barry, they might have retained their parliamentary influence in the county till doomsday. Feargus was the idol of the southern and western elec- tors in particular. But in the eastern part of the county Mr. Barry had mustered some ardent supporters on his own account. It was the policy of the popular party, when the strength of their electoral force had been suffi- ciently ascertained, to divide their votes between O'Connor and Barry, instead of plumping for O'Connor, as had been at one time proposed. A farmer, with whom the idea of " Fargus" was predominant, came up to be polled, and tendered his vote for " Fargus O'Connor and Ould Ireland." " You can vote for Mr. O'Connor, and for any other candidate," said the assessor ; " but there is no candidate here of the name of Ould Ireland." " Then I vote for Fargus O'Connor and Barry," said the elector, adopting the correction. At the close of the struggle, the sheriff declared O'Con. THE O'CONNORS OP CONNORVILLE. 51 nor and Barry elected, the former by a majority of over a thousand. The triumph astonished the vanquished party quite as much as it chagrined them. It was gained, undoubtedly, by clerical co-operation. But the Catholic clergy of the county would not, I believe, have thus com- bined, if they had not been, at the outset, incessantly stimulated to work the cause among their flocks by the indefatigable zeal and industry of O'Connor. He gave life and cohesion to the popular party. He rallied their detached forces, taught them the extent of their power and led them to victory. The landlords, whose fiat had been previously decisive in the choice of representatives, were unspeakably puzzled to find their influence annihi- lated. The dismay and anger of the beaten party were expressed with the bitterness usually incident to such a predicament. Mr. Hedges Eyre paced the Conservative clubroom, muttering with oaths, " not loud but deep," that the county was disgraced for ever. Feargus was now in great feather. He issued a formid- able programme of his intended parliamentary labours. He promised " to sit with the Speaker and rise with the House." His success in the election for the county filled his mind with vague and gorgeous visions of yet loftier achievements. His ambition pointed to the leadership of the entire popular party in Ireland, and he soon attempted to unhorse O'Connell, with the view of getting into the saddle himself. O'Connell had, of course, too firm a hold on the popular confidence to be shaken by a political ad- venturer of yesterday ; and although Feargus was a second time returned for Cork county, yet he injured his own E 2 52 VICISSITUDES OF FAMILIES. popularity very much by his efforts to promote disaffection to O'Connell. At last he so completely lost influence in Ireland as to be unable to get up a parish meeting. Having alienated his Irish friends by his selfish and impolitic course, he next turned his regards to England. He joined the Chartists, first as a disciple ; but he soon found means to acquire the confidence of their body, which his great abilities for declamation enabled him to improve to the utmost. He established the Northern Star news- paper in Leeds as the organ of Chartism ; and its sale for a time reached a fabulous amount. I have heard that once, for a few weeks, it beat the Times, It is now de- funct. Among the innumerable ruses by which Feargus gained the favour of the English working classes, was the cha- racteristic expedient of presenting himself at a public meeting arrayed in a fustian jacket, the working man's livery, in which, he said, he worked as hard as any of his audience, for he, too, was a "working man/' and his work was to liberate the masses from their bondage. His speech and his jacket were probably of the same material ; but doubtless his semi-pantomimic dexterities helped, for a time, to increase the influence which he derived from his abilities as a declaimer, and his mental and physical energy. "When he established the Chartist Land Company, a belief was universally adopted by his English admirers, that the purchasers of shares, or allotments of land, would make fortunes by the speculation. Bitter disappointment and a vast deal of personal suffering were the principal THE O'CONNORS OF CONNORVILLE. 53 results of the experiment. There was also a religious sect got up in connection with his English movement, called the Chartist Christian Church, which, as we see nothing now of its doings, has, I presume, been wound up by the directors. Feargus, deserted by the thousands with whom he once was popular Feargus, stung to the quick by the failure of successive schemes Feargus, assailed on all sides with the clamorous outcry of crowds whose money had been swal- lowed in the ill-starred Land Scheme, had no source of consolation to fall back upon. He had long ago squan- dered all his private means. No further supplies could be got from the exhausted credulity of the Chartists. His newspaper lost its circulation. He went mad, and was confined for nearly two years and a half in Dr. Tuke's asylum near Chiswick : his removal from which to private lodgings probably hastened his death, which occurred on the 31st of August, 1855. Fortrobert is a wreck, and the direct heir to that once handsome mansion and domain retains not an acre of his patrimony. Connorville has, many years since, passed away from the family of O'Connor. It was bought by James Lysaght, Esq., in the Court of Chancery, and sold by him in 1853 to the Earl of Norbury. The old house no longer stands, and the old trees have long ago been felled. But although my narrative records the decadence of the immediate families of Connorville and Fortrobert, it must be observed that several other branches of the race, as well as many descendants, through female lines from Daniel Conner, of Bandon bridge (temp. Wil- 54 VICISSITUDES OP FAMILIES. liam the Third and Anne), retain their position among the gentry of the south, with sufficient means for its sup- port. I may remark, that since Feargus O'Connor's death, some of his Chartist disciples, whose allegiance has survived every shock, have erected a monumental statue of their Chief at Nottingham, for which town he was member of parliament from 1847 to 1852. THE LAST WILLIAM WRAY OP ARDS. 55 Cfje fast Wfflam ttetj f An old Song Of an old worshipful gentleman who had a greate estate, ' That kept a brave old house at a bountiful rate, d And an old Porter to relieve the poor at his gate, Like an old Courtier of the Queen's, And the Queen's old Courtier. OLD SONG. SOME time after the quenching of the great Rebellion in the reign of Queen Elizabeth, more than half a million of .acres in the north of Ireland were at the disposal of the English Crown. Part of this territory had been the pro- perty of the O'Niells, and the numerous branches of that great and ancient family, and part of the O'Donells, who held princely pre-eminence in Tyrconnell, or Donegal. After the later insurrection of Sir Cahir O'Dogherty, another chief of Donegal, and its suppression in the year 1608, the whole county fell to the King,, under the law of -forfeiture or escheat. At the same time, five other northern counties suffered a like doom: namely, Tyrone, the Prin- cipality of O'Neill, Derry, O'Cahan's county, Ferma- nagh, Maguire's county, Cavan, O'Reilly's county, and Armagh, the property of the Clanbrassil O'Neills, and the 56 VICISSITUDES OF FAMILIES. O'Hanlons; these chiefs and their followers were put under attaint, and their lands forfeited : hence arose, in 1610, the Plantation of Ulster with English and Scotch settlers, who were generally soldiers of fortune, professional adventurers, or cadets of good families. Many of them found their way into Donegal, and these may be distinguished into two kinds, viz., those who arrived on the suppression of O'Donell's rebellion at the end of Elizabeth's reign ; and those who " settled " under James I. in 1610 ; the former were almost all of English descent, whereas the latter were Scotch. In Donegal the chief families of the former were the Gores, now Earls of Arran, the Brookes, now represented by Sir Victor A. Brooke, Bart., of Fermanagh, the Harts of Doe Castle, the Sampsons, at present extinct, and the Wrays of Castle Wray and Ards. Old Fynes Morison tells us that of these families, Sampson, Brooke, and Hart alone brought to Ireland one hundred halberdiers at their own expense to aid the Queen : they therefore may be said to have earned what they got. Sampson had a vast tract of wild mountain range lying on the sea, and _ now comprehending Horn Head, and Ards. Hart was his neighbour at Doe Castle : and Brooke had Donegal town and Castle, and a fine acreage south of Muckish, and Lough Salt mountains, and near what now is the village of Letterkenny. To John Wray 1000 acres of Carnegilla, near the same town* were assigned, or probably had been purchased by him from Sir John Vaughan, a "VVelchman by birth, who was the original patentee. Mr. Wray was a branch of the Wrays of Ashby; they were formerly of Durham^ THE LAST WILLIAM WRAY OF ARDS. 57 from whence they removed to Glentworth in Yorkshire. In 1660 they were created Baronets, but the title became extinct on the death of Sir William James Wray in 1809. Their escutcheon is azure on a chief or, three martlets gules; their motto, an ancient French poesie, and play upon their name, " et juste ct vray" One of this family, Sir Christopher Wray^ of Glentworth, was Chief Justice of the Queen's Bench, M.P. for Borough- bridge, and Speaker of the House of Commons temp. Eliz. : he died 1592. In his Latin epitaph at Glentworth, there is an allusion to his motto; he was "re Justus, nomine verus ;" he left behind him good advice as to how an estate was to be kept: 1st, by understanding it 2nd, by not spending till it comes 3rd, by a quarterly audit 4th, by keeping old servants : all of which sapient rules his later Irish descendants were ever disregarding to their own detri- ment, which was a negative evidence of the excellence of their ancestor's counsel. Little is known of John Wray of Carnegilla, the first settler from England, but his son Henry Wray had a further grant from the Crown, in 1639, of the lands after- wards called Castle Wray, a beautiful spot sloping up from the green braes of Lough Swilly, and now in the posses- sion of Francis Mansfield, Esq., a descendant of Captain Mansfield, who obtained "1000 acres in Killeneguirden," in the plantation of 1610. This Henry Wray had married a daughter of Sir Paul Gore, by his wife Isabella Wicliff, a niece of the great Earl of Strafford : and probably he ob- tained this grant through the earl's paramount interest with his royal master Charles I. Henry Wray's son was 58 VICISSITUDES OF FAMILIES. William Wray, who was living at Castle Wray in 1689, when his name appears in the "Act of Attainder" by James the Second, in common with all the prominent gentry who held the Protestant Faith.* He appears to have been a wise and prudent man, and bent upon staying at home, and improving his estate; accordingly we look in vain for his name among the valiant Donegal gentry who buckled on their broadswords and went off to fight King James's army at Deny in 1689. Among these were Stewart from Lough S willy Forward from Coolemacurtaine Nesbitt from Tully-Idonnell Mansfield from Killigordon Babington froin Castle Doe Hart from Culmore Fort Sinclair, of the stalwart Caithness race, from Holyhill Vaughan and Groves from Castle Shanagan Colquhoun from Letterkenny Knox from Glenfin and Carhewenancannah, an awful territorial title to spell or speak, with which I close the cata- logue. Wray does not appear among the belligerents : he had married a Miss Sampson, and migrated into the very depths of the northern Donegal Highlands, where he pur- chased the singularly wild, romantic and beautiful estate of Ards, probably from his wife's family, who some time afterwards, in 1700, sold the promontory of Horn Head, with its glorious sea cliffs and sublime views, to Mr. Stew- art, ancestor of the present proprietor, the Rev. Charles Stewart. At Ards, Wray built him a good and large mansion on a sunny bank facing the sweet south, and running down to meet the purple rocks, and white strands, and clear blue waters of Sheephaven ; and here he lived in * See Archbishop King's State of the Irish Protestants under King James II., Appendix, page 8. THE LAST WILLIAM WRAT OF ARDS. 59 a princely way, amidst his woods and pleasure grounds and many retainers, enjoying a climate like that of Italy for softness, where, sheltered from the north and east, the myrtles and geraniums grow richly in the open air, and beds of rhododendrons and fuchsias stretch down to meet the kisses of the Salt Sea. On William \Vray' s death in 1710, his widow, who had been his second wife, erected to his memory a mural tablet, which is still to be seen amid the ruins of Clon- dehorky Church; it contains in itself a pedigree and a picture, and is an odd specimen of the style of that day. In gallantry to the gentle widow whose piety devised it, I must attribute the bad spelling to the ignorance of the sculptor, unless, perhaps, the lady's tears had blinded her eyes when writing it, and thus injured her orthography. Probably Miss Sampson, Wray's first wife, had brought him a wing of the Ards estate, which had been her father's. His second lady, Angel Kilbreth, was sister to Colonel James Galbraith, who was M.P. for the borough of St. Johnston. Another sister was married to Mr. Sinclair, of Holy Hill, county Tyrone. This Colonel Galbraith was an ancestor to the Honourable Sir Galbraith Lowry Cole, the late Lord Enniskillen's brother, and the family is now represented by Samuel Galbraith, Esq., of Clanabogan- Omagh, county Tyrone. An old Scottish race were these Xilbreths or Galbraiths, and governors of Dunbarton Castle at the time of Queen Mary's escape from Loch- leven. Wray's eldest son, Henry, succeeded to the Castle- Wray property. He married Eleanor Gore, sister to the first Lord Arran, and from him lineally comes the present Mr. Wray, of Oak Park, near the town of Letterkenny, 60 VICISSITUDES OF FAMILIES. who represents the family ; but my business is more with the younger branch, which in the person of William's second son, Humphrey, appears to have inherited Ards, and to have been a careful man, as he left his son an immense estate ; indeed, something little short of a prin- cipality in territorial extent. Humphrey's wife had been Miss Brooke, of Colebrooke, county Fermanagh, and grandaunt to the late Sir Henry Brooke, Bart. Of this lady we know but little, nor is there any record of the doings of her husband among the traditions of the neighbourhood ; but their son, " OLD WILLIAM WRAY OF ARDS," is the remembered hero of many a strange recital mingled with a hue of sorrow for his fallen fortunes, and a romantic interest in his having been the last of the old branch of the Wrays, that reigned and ruled at beautiful Ards for so long a time. I have said that he had inherited a splendid rental and a wide spreading property ; his house and demesne, of great beauty and extent, lay along the north strand of a bay of the Atlantic Ocean ; woods waved all behind, and on either side of the old mansion, while the offices occupied a spacious square, and contained, besides the ample stablery and coach-houses, a number of shops, such as tailors, sad- dlers, shoemakers, carpenters, slaters, in short, a little world of artizans, to supply the numerous household ; the nearest mart being twenty miles distant, and only acces- sible by a road over a steep mountain. The place was an oasis in a desert ; all outside the park gates was mountain heaped upon mountain, stony valleys, huge grey boulders standing up like sentries on the road side ; blue tarns, white strands dotted with dark pebbles, and broken tracts THE LAST WILLIAM WRAY OF ARDS. 61 of brown bog, redeemed at intervals by patches of vivid verdure, virgin soil, which no spade had ever violated; here, too, were stretches of natural wood, reliques of the old forest : the dwarf oak ; the rowan, with its red berries ; the birch, with its pale stem ; the silver ash, and the thick hazels ; and the holly, growing most luxuriantly amidst fantastic rocks, and glittering greenly in the sunbeams. Here ran many a bubbling runnel, thundered many a torrent from its gully on the hill-side, and glittered many a lake far seen between the clefts of the mountains ; among which, pre-eminent for its wild and romantic beauty, lay Glenveagh Lough, or the Lake of the Valley of the Deer, glancing like silver, or blackening like ink, as it alternated in sunlight or in shadow ; deep, narrow, sublimely solitary, it runs up between the precipitous wall of Dooish Mountain, whose summit rises two thousand two hundred feet above the glen, and on the other side the steep rocks, and green declivities, and wooded precipices of the Glendowan Mountain, and Lossett, which signifies light. Here, at the time of which I write, the red deer ran and haunted these wilds in troops, sporting amidst the ancient oakwood of Mullanagore, part of which still remains, or slaking their thirst in the Burn of Glenlack, which rolls and whirls adown the mountain for six hundred feet, or listening under the greenwood tree, and in the silence of the summer morning, to the roar of waters, where, across the lake, the Derrybeg Torrent is precipitated over a cliff of one thousand feet, and after raving amidst the lower levels, where the trees and brushwood half conceal its glancing waters, hurries into the tranquil bosom of lovely Glenveagh, and is at rest. A more exquisite gem O<* VICISSITUDES OF FAMILIES. of mountain, lake, waterfall, and woodland beauty, the wide world could scarce produce. To the left of Ards rose Lough Salt with its volcanic crater, and large, deep lake on the summit, along whose stony rim for a mile lay the only road by which Ards could be approached from the south. To the right and landward of Ards soared the great mountain of Muckish, with its declivities, precipices, and its hundred spurs broken into unceasing hill and hollow, through which grey boreens, or bridle-paths, were seen to wind like serpents in the grass. More westerly still, uprose the three giant mountains, Dooish, Altan, and the silvery cone of Arigle, or " the white arrow," with all their peaks and precipices, their shadows, and solitudes, only broken by the wild bark of the golden eagle. To the east of the demesne lay the sea, of great depth and exquisite colour, bluest of the blue. It was, indeed, and is to this day a complete solitude, but abounding in the wildest and most original scenery, little known and seldom visited, but replete with all that could charm the tourist, and delight and satisfy the eye and pencil of the artist. Here, amidst his woods, and wilds, and sea-cliffs, and mountains, reigned William Wray in feudal state, and with an as- sumption of power which his neighbours seemed to allow him. His heart was kind, his purse was long, his step was high, and his hand was open. He was profuse, proud, energetic, jealous, stately, hospitable, eccentric, and exclusive. Tradition tells us that he had twenty stalls in his stables, kept ready for the horses of his guests, and twenty covers on his table for their masters, yet the diffi- THE LAST WILLIAM WRAY OF ARDS. DO culty of reaching Ards was what would never come into the computation of modern diners-out, and was opposed to all the facility and luxury of present travelling. At that time there was but one available road from Letter- kenny, the frontier town, to Ards, and this had been made by "William Wray himself, and with such zeal, that he caused his labourers to work at it all night by torch- light. It runs straight up and over Lough Salt, a moun- tain one thousand five hundred feet high. Wray paved most of it with square flags, and set up huge milestones all along it, and resting-places, as trophies of his engineer- ing prowess. When -the guests who were invited to Ards arrived at Kilmacrennan, a village at the foot of the mountain, the postilion unyoked the horses and replaced them with bullocks, which animals were regularly pro- vided by William Wray, and which slowly but strongly dragged the carriages up the great mountain ; and as the equipages emerged at the other side of Lough Salt, and became visible to the northern region beneath, tradition has it that the Master at Ards from his own lawn took a telescopic observation at the distance of fourteen miles ; and computing that the company would not complete the rest of their journey under four hours more, and being a man given to punctuality, he ordered dinner accordingly. He was, indeed, a perfect Martinet ; one day, walking in his pleasure-ground, he cried to his gardener, " John, I cannot get on ;" to which the other answered, " I do not wonder at it, Sir, for there is a straw in your path ;" which being removed, the old gentleman resumed his walk. He was very dignified in his appearance and manner, and 64 VICISSITUDES OP FAMILIES. once in the Grand Jury-room at Lifford, when a young fop, desirous of knowing the hour, turned to him and said, "And what are you, sir ?" he struck the floor with his gold- headed cane, and answered, " I am William Wray of Ards, sir." Yet with this characteristic of hauteur, he was most kind to the poor, and would suffer the fishermen, if it blew hard from the north or west, to run their smacks close in under his very windows for shelter, and to coil their cables and hawsers round the stems of the great trees which grew close to the sea, and which remain till this day. Squeamish and fastidious, he could not bear to see any one eat egg or oyster be/ore him ; and once, when his daughter after breakfast had the good sense with her own gentle hands and a damask napkin to wash up some extremely costly and beautiful cups and saucers, he was so hurt and mortified, that he indignantly ordered his horse, and rode into Dunfanaghy, four miles off, where he breakfasted at an inn ; and this he continued to do for some months, till time had effaced the recollection of the indignity. One would be inclined to accuse the man who acted thus of folly ; but such conduct was rather the result of pride and eccentricity, fostered by the solitary magnificence in which he lived, and the station in which his wealth and birth had placed him, and which the neighbouring gen- try who ate his mutton and drank his claret did not dis- pute. He was undoubtedly a man of wondrous activity^ enterprise, and public spirit. The causeway up the steep of Lough Salt he made at his own expense. The mile- stones were seven feet high and four broad the last was THE LAST WILLIAM WRAY OP ARDS. 5 standing some twenty years ago. There was something of the ancient Roman in the man's works, bold and mas- sive. A second road he constructed over Mongorry Mountain, between Letterkenny and Raphoe, with in- credible trouble and cost. No hard "Whinstone rock, no shaking bog, no hill-side torrent, ever could turn our rectilinear road maker one foot from his straight- forward course. He would blast the first, pave the second, and bridge the third ; and on the map of the recent Ordnance Survey, the engineer's rule could never draw a straighter line than the delineation of this long road presents. It is now quite forsaken, only cattle, drivers make use of "ould Willie Wray's road," the present generation having discovered that it is wiser, if not shorter, to skirt the base of a hill than to scale the summit, a process endangering the breaking of your horse's wind in the going up, and the breaking of his knees, or your own neck in the coming down. Mr. Wray was a great loyalist, and zealous for king and constitution ; and on one occa- sion suffered severely in his purse through a headlong act of arbitrary enthusiasm for the Excise of the country ! A small brig was at anchor, becalmed in the bay ; she had a low hull, rakish masts, and smart rigging, alto- gether a suspicious craft. William Wray determined to pay her a visit, and getting into his grand pinnace with a number of his men, boarded her, He found her cargo consisted entirely of tobacco : her skipper was sulky, and would not produce his papers; and the upshot of the matter was, that Wray, as a magistrate and magnate of the county, took upon him to legislate suo arbitrio, and 66 VICISSITUDES OF FAMILIES. under the impression that the tobacco was smuggled, the skipper a contrabandist, and the king's majesty defrauded, he sent on shore for all his boats, barges, corrais, and sailors, and before the sun was kissing the fiery wave behind Torry island, he had landed all the tobacco on the seabeach, and heaping it together, set a torch to the pile and burned it, producing such a smoke and such a smell amidst the glades and sweet dells of Ards as never was till then, or ever will be again, though the whole population of Donegal were to turn out and assemble there with cigars in their mouths. Under cover of the smoke the captain returned in a rage to Derry, and the damages and law costs he obtained at the next assizes against the too adven- turous Willie were fully six hundred pounds. William Wray's mother had been Miss Brooke, of Cole- brooke, and through her he was widely and wealthily con- nected in Donegal and Fermanagh. His wife was Miss Hamilton, of Newtown Cunningham, county Derry ; she was daughter to a Dr. Hamilton and a Miss Cunningham, and sister of Sir Henry Hamilton, probably of the Abercom family. The great mansion where this family resided is a prominent object in the village at this day, though almost a ruin ; it is a grey and massive pile, and looks like an old baronial keep of other times. Sir Henry had five sisters besides Mrs. Wray : one was married to Mr. Olphert, of Ballyconnel ; a second to Mr. Benson, of Birdstown; a third to Mr. Smith, of Newtown Lima- vaddy ; a fourth to Mr. Span, of Ballemacool, near Letter- kenny ; and a fifth to Mr. Stewart, of Ballygawley, direct ancestor of Sir John M. Stewart, Bart. ; the sixth was THE LAST WILLIAM WRAY OP ARDS. 67 the Lady of Ards, and wife of "William "VVray. Be- sides all these family ramifications, Wray was allied by blood or marriage with the Gores of Magherabeg, the Stewarts of Horn Head, the Mansfields of Killygordon, the Galbraiths of St. Johnston, the Babingtons of Urney, the Sinclairs of Holly Hill, the Lowrys of Pomeroy, the Eccles of Fintona, the Knoxs of Rathmullen, the Perrys of Mullaghmore, the Moutrays of Favor Royal, the Boyds of Ballycastle, &c. &c., all families of ancient settlers in Donegal, Tyrone, and the county of Antrim. One of his daughters married her kinsman, Richard Babington ; and two gentle scholars, brothers, coming up from the south of Ireland, James and Joseph Stopford, sons of James Stopford, Bishop of Cloyne, and nephews of the first Earl of Courtown, bound the north and south together in kindly ties by wooing and wedding Anna and Angel Wray, two of the lilies of Ards, which had flowered in William Wray's paternal garden; another daughter was united to Mr. Atkinson, of Cavan Garden, the head of an old family in Donegal. Thus his connection was as extensive as his fortune, and as wide as his expendi- ture ; and possessing the very spirit of Irish hospitality, and guest and kinsfolk being ever ready to* accept his invitations, and bringing with them crowds of servants, no doubt profligate and wasteful, it is little wonder that all these gatherings and entertainments produced their inevitable results in pecuniary difficulties, then gradual decadency, and eventually something tantamount to absolute and irretrievable ruin. Yet there is no record of anything coarse or vicious in the extravagances which 68 VICISSITUDES OF FAMILIES. beggared the Master of Ards. One hears nothing of hard drinking, or loud swearing, or boisterous revels in his courtly mansion. William Wray was a gentleman a high Irish gentleman too proud to be popular, and too eccentric to be understood ; he could not be estimated by the unimaginative and matter-of-fact people among whom he dwelt ; the shrewd and money- loving northerns called his unbounded hospitality, riotous living, and his diffuse- ness they termed madness; but had these things been done in France in the fourteenth century, and chronicled by such a pen as that of Froissart, he would have classed him with such entertainers as Phoebus-Gaston Count de Foix, and pronounced upon him as a courteous and liberal, a bountiful, and most gentle host. Yet he had not many near neighbours in that wild country ; there was a Mr. Olphert, a cousin of his own, at Bally connell, who spent much of his time in crossing from Ballyness to Tory Island, a distance of ten miles, and a navigation acpom- panied with extreme peril. This he accomplished not in a twelve-oared boat, broad bottomed and skilfully manned, to meet the raging of the tremendous sea which runs in that stormy sound, where the Atlantic beats around the Horn, and breaks in thunder and in foam up its black sides : but in a little corrai, or long basket, made of twigs of twisted osier, and covered over with a cow-hide, so as to keep out the water, and pulled by two men : nay, the story has it that Olphert often put to sea in the corrai by himself, and with a favourable tide and wind, accomplished the voyage solus cum solo. Probably this daring navigator was a fisher- man, for salmon are in great abundance in the deep blue THE LAST WILLIAM WRAY OF ARDS. 69 water around the mural cliffs of Horn Head, where the finest and rarest fish are taken, and where occasionally a giant whale on a lark from Greenland is seen to lie at his ease, and spout in the cool summer evening. Olphert being such a passionate philo-marine, and so original in his nautical habits, had probably little intercourse with the Master of Ards, save when they met in the Grand Jury -room at Lifford. The sea scenery on this part of the coast, to the east of Bloody Foreland, is sternly magnificent ; the cliffs at Horn Head, embracing eight miles in extent, are matchless for size, shape, exquisite colouring, and peculiarity ; the Horn curls over the ocean from a height of one thousand per- pendicular feet ; along its ledges, all the way from brow to base, in summer, sit millions of rock-nesting birds of the gull tribe, &c. ; auks, sea parrots, petrels, &c., while a pair of noble eagles great birds are generally found building in the precipitous face of the cliff, or floating and wheeling over the green and heathy hollows through which the Horn is approached. Ear out to sea lies the Island of Tory, with its lofty, black, and broken cliffs, resembling a huge old castle, with round towers and rugged battlements, and long, dark, steep walls of rock standing out in its utter solitude in the midst of the vexed Atlantic, an object of intense interest, and most picturesque in its outline. Between Balliconnell and Ards is Horn Head House. Here lived, in the year 1700, Captain Charles Stewart, a man of ancient Scottish blood, being of the Darnley Stew_ arts, and having their motto, " Avant Darnley," engraved on the old silver seal which hung on his watch chain. He 70 VICISSITUDES OF FAMILIES. had been an officer in King William's army, had obtained from him a grant of lands in the King's county, but migrating northward in 1700, he purchased from Mr. Sampson, Wray's father-in-law, the promontory of Horn Head, &c., and there built a substantial and good house, which from that time to this has ever preserved its name for generous and refined hospitality. With this gentle- man Wray had an extraordinary quarrel in 1732, which, as illustrating the tone of the times, and the peculiar idiosyncrasy of the Master of Ards' character, I will sketch for the public. At the time the feud took place William Wray was a young man Stewart was bordering on seventy, and his strength broken with gout and illness. Three years before, at Horn Head, " they had sworn a friendship/' probably most prandial in its nature, and over * bottle of claret, and nothing interrupted the harmony of their intercourse, until one day, Wray, walking on some of the silver strands which lined his verdant park, discovered a girl gathering oysters, whom he recognized as one of Stewart's tenants. This monstrous outrage on the sove- reignty of his sway and the sanctity of his premises Wray highly resented, and told the offender that he considered it a crime for any one to gather there but himself or his servants. This of course was reported to the stern old Williamite, who next day dispatched his pinnace with twelve men with pistols, and armed to the teeth, com- manded by Stewart's son, and " ready," so Wray writes, " by your direction to use me, I know not how." This public affront awakened Wray's loftiest indignation, and on the 9th of November he challenges Stewart, tells him THE LAST WILLIAM WRAT OF ARDS. 71 he " must have speedy satisfaction ; that he was concerned to do so with a man of his years, but that his (Wray's) honour was at stake. Be master of your own weapons, fix the time and place ; you must come alone as I will, as the sooner this affair is ended, the sooner will revenge cease. WILLIAM WRAY." Stewart's answer was immediate having the same date it is so spirited, and so like the neigh of an old war- horse that had probably heard the guns peal across the Boyne Water, that I will transcribe it all. "Nov. 9th, 1732. Sir, you say that you have received a deal of ill usage from me ; I am quite a stranger to that, but not so to the base usage you have given me, and all the satisfaction you intend me is banter by your sham challenge. If you be as much in earnest as your letter says, assure yourself that if I had but one day to live, I would meet you on the top of Muckish rather than lose by you what I have carried all my life. "Yours, CHARLES STEWART." If we consider that the writer was near seventy years of age, and a martyr to gout, and that Muckish mountain is 2000 feet high, and so steep as to be almost inaccessible, we shall see what stuff these Boyne and Deny men were made of, and what soldiers of steel King William led to victory. Happily this duel never came off; some mutual friends, " Dick Babington" and " Andrew Knox," inter- fered, Wray explained, and Stewart apologized for calling his challenge a sham and a banter, and testifies to the 72 VICISSITUDES OP FAMILIES. truth and honour of Wray ; and thus the matter ended as it should do, in a renewal of good feeling. All this took place when Wray was a young man, and probably unmarried. It is all but impossible to gather records of his domestic life ; those who enjoyed his hospi- tality have long since passed away, and the peasantry, who are the usual depositories of the legendary stories connected with great families, though forming a fine and substantial yeomanry about Ards, yet are peculiarly matter- of-fact, common-place, and utterly wanting in the poetical element, so necessary to give the love for tradition, and preserve it from age to age. Besides, extravagance is always unpopular in the north, where the Scotch are so widely located, and where money is so highly valued, and that which we dislike and disapprove of we take no pains to keep in mind, and so the memory of the last William Wray of Ards is fast passing away with the works he constructed, the moneys he lavished, the eccentricities he exhibited, and the properties which he forfeited. A few strong facts stand above the surface of the stream such as we have narrated : a few also remain of a sterner and sadder kind such as his expenditure increasing as his income decreased: such as wisdom or frugality not resulting from advancing years ; such as his son living in France, where he displayed even more than the hereditary habit of utter extravagance ; such as his lady sinking and dying under the grief and sorrow of their ruin and their fall ; and his own death afterwards in France : and finally such as the sale of the entire estate, house, demesne, and all appurtenances belonging to it in the year 1781, to meet THE LAST WILLIAM WRAY OF ARDS. 73 and defray the owner's debts, when it was purchased by Mr. Alexander Stewart, brother of the Marquess of Lon- donderry, from whom it has descended to his grandson, Alexander John Robert Stewart, Esq., who is the present proprietor of beautiful Ards, and the very noble estate attached to it. 74 VICISSITUDES OF FAMILIES. t Jfamilu 0f And Elwes Master of a comfortable hoard, Appearing to be scarcely worth, a crown. PETEB PINDAB. MISERS' wealth seldom prospers. The pent-up stream, once the hand that stayed its course is removed, finds a rapid vent, and wastes and scatters its waters to the ex- haustion of the original source. So it is with treasures accumulated by avarice : seldom do they remain with the heirs of him who has worn his life away in their acquisition, and in very rare instances do they form the enduring foundations of a family's establishment. Warriors, states- men, merchants, and lawyers all have originated great and flourishing houses, but misers are rarely the patriarchs of families of enduring prosperity : the same remark may be made in reference to those who gathered gain by the slave trade : they never flourished. It has been ascer- tained as a positive fact, that no two generations of a slave- dealer's race ever continued resident on the estate ac- quired by the unholy pursuit of their founder ; and a similar observation applies, to a certain extent, to the pro- fits of the usurer. A very learned friend of mine, deeply THE FAMILY OF ELWES. 75 versed in the vicissitudes of genealogy, assures me that he never knew four generations of an usurer's family to endure, in regular unbroken succession. In giving my history of the Elweses, T shall for the present go no further back than the time of Charles the Second, who conferred a baronetcy on Sir Gervase Elwes, of Stoke, in Suffolk. From the general character of the " merry monarch," and the way in which he usu- ally dispensed his favours, we may safely infer, without any other ground, that Sir Gervase was a boon companion, and one more likely to diminish than to increase an inheritance. Such, indeed, appears from all records to have been the fact. The new baronet involved, as far as he was able, a noble patrimony, leaving little more behind him than the skeleton of an estate. Upon the death of this spendthrift, his suc- cesssorand grandson, Sir Hervey^Elwes, found himself nomi- nally possessed of some thousands a year, but his annual receipts did not at the moment exceed a hundred pounds. He had, however, a fortune, and an ample fortune in his own peculiar habits, being to the full as penurious as his predecessor had been extravagant. On arriving at Stoke, the ancestral seat, he boldly declared that " he never would leave it till he had entirely cleared the estate." Extra- ordinary as such a resolution might have seemed at the time, and even impossible to be effected, he lived not only to realize it, but even to accumulate a great addi- tional fortune over and above the lands he had inhe- rited. But, in fact, he had received from nature all the qualifications requisite to form perfect a miser. In his youth he had been given over for a consumption, and though the disease in a great measure yielded to art, yet 76 VICISSITUDES OF FAMILIES. it left him with impaired constitution, and without any of those dangerous passions which boil up in stronger bodies. Avarice remained the sole tenant of his bosom, and to that he was devoted with a cold exclusiveness that seems well nigh fabulous. He was, moreover, shy, timid, and diffident in the extreme. Friends he had none, and wished for none ; nor did he possess the slightest taste for study of any kind ; his great delight was to accumulate gold, and brood over its accumulations : next to that came partridge - setting, not so much from any love of sport, as because the birds sufficed to support himself and his narrow household for at least a portion of the year. Game was then so plentiful that he has been known to take live hundred brace of birds in one season. But this multitude mattered nothing to him. "What he and his people could not consume was turned out again, for the miser could not give any thing away. It may be worthy of notice when depicting so singular a character, that his breed of dogs was remarkably good, that he at all times wore a black velvet cap much over his face, a worn-out full dress suit of clothes, and an old great coat over his knees. He rode a thin, thorough-bred horse ; and the horse and his rider both looked as if a gust of wind would have blown them away together. " When the day was not so fine as to tempt him abroad, he would walk backwards and forwards in his old hall to save the expense of fire. If a farmer in his neighbourhood came in, he would strike a light in a tinder-box that he kept by him, and putting one single stick upon the grate, would not add another till the first was nearly burnt out. " As he had but little connection with London, he had THE FAMILY OF ELWES. 77 always three or four thousand pounds at a time in his house. A set of fellows, who were afterwards known by the appellation of the Thaxsted Gang, and who were all hanged, formed a plan to rob him. They were totally unsuspected at the time, as each had some apparent occcu. pation during the day, and went out only at night, and when they had got intelligence of any great booty. " It was the custom of Sir Hervey to go up into his bed-chamber at eight o' clock, where, after taking a basin of water-gruel, by the light of a small fire, he went to bed to save the unnecessary extravagance of a candle. The gang, who knew the hour when his servant used to go to the stable, leaving their horses in a small grove on the Essex side of the river, walked across and hid themselves in the church-porch till they saw the man come up. They then immediately fell upon him, and after some little struggle they bound and gagged him. They then ran up towards the house, tied the two maids together, and going up to Sir Hervey, presented their pistols and demanded his money. At no part of his life did Sir Hervey behave so well as in this transaction. When they asked for his money, he would give them no answer till they had assured him that his servant, who was a great favourite, was safe. He then delivered them the key of a drawer in which were fifty guineas. But they knew too well he had much more in the house, and again threatened his life unless he discovered where it was deposited. At length he showed them the place, and they turned out a large drawer where were seven and twenty hundred guineas. This they packed up in two large baskets and actually carrried off a robbery which for quantity of specie was 78 VICISSITUDES OF FAMILIES. perhaps never equalled. On quitting him they told him they should leave a man behind, who would murder him if he moved for assistance. On which he very coolly, and with some simplicity, took out his watch which they had not asked for and said, ' Gentlemen, I do not want to take any of you, and therefore, upon my honour, I will give you twenty minutes for your escape ; after that time nothing shall prevent me from seeing how my servant does/ He was as good as his word. When the time expired, he went and untied the man; but though search was made by the village, the robbers were not dis- covered. When they were taken up some years afterwards for other offences, and were known to be the men who robbed Sir Hervey, he would not appear against them. Mr. Harrington of Clare, who was his lawyer, pressed him to go to Chelmsford to identify their persons ; but nothing could persuade him. ' No, no/ said he ; ' I have lost my money, and now you want me to lose my time also/ " Of what temperance can do, Sir Hervey was an in- stance. At an early period of life he was given over for a consumption, and he lived till between eighty and ninety years of age. " Amongst the few acquaintances he had, was an occa- sional club at his own village of Stoke ; and there were members of it two baronets besides himself, Sir Cordwell Firebras and Sir John Barnardiston. However rich they were, the reckoning was always an object of their inves- tigation. As they were one day settling this difficult point, an odd fellow, who was a member, called out to a friend who was passing, ' For heaven's sake, step up stairs THE FAMILY OF ELWES. 79 and assist the poor ! Here are three baronets, with a million of money, quarrelling about a farthing/ " When Sir Hervey died, the only tear that was dropped upon his grave, fell from the eye of his servant who had long and faithfully attended him. To that servant he bequeathed a farm of twenty pounds per annum, to him and his heirs. "In the chastity and abstinence of his life Sir Hervey Elwes was a rival to Sir Isaac Newton, for he would have held it unpardonable to have given even his affections ; and as he saw no lady whatever, he had but little chance of bartering them matrimonially for money. When he died, he lay in state, such as it was, at his estate at Stoke. Some of the tenants observed, with more humour than decency, ' that it was well Sir Hervey could not see it.' " On his death, his fortune, which had now become immense, fell to his nephew, Mr. Meggot, who by will was ordered to assume the name and arms of Elwes ; and who became ' Elwes the Miser/ par excellence.