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 JAMBS DOIrV. WKI.UNOTOW Qt
 
 t SKETCHES, 
 
 LEGAL AND POLITICAL, . 
 
 BY 
 
 THE LATE RIGHT HONOURABLE 
 
 RICHARD LALOR SHEIL 
 
 EDITED, WITH NOTES, 
 BY M. W. SAVAGE, ESQ. 
 
 IN TWO VOLUMES. 
 
 VOL. I. 
 
 LONDON : 
 PUBLISHED FOR HENEY COLBUEN, 
 
 BY HIS SUCCESSORS, HURST & BLACKETT, 
 13, GREAT MARLBOROUGH STREET. 
 
 1855.
 
 PRINTED BY HARRISON AND SONS, 
 LONDON GAZETTE OFFICE, 8 . MARTIN'S LANE.
 
 PREFACE BY THE EDITOR. 
 
 THESE volumes consist of the principal contributions 
 of the late Mr. SHEIL to the "New Monthly Maga- 
 zine/' at a period when that periodical, edited by 
 THOMAS CAMPBELL, was particularly distinguished by 
 the interest and brilliancy of its articles. The 
 Sketches of the Celebrities of the Irish Bar attracted 
 much attention at the time, and were admired, 
 wherever they were read, as well for their fidelity 
 as portraitures, as for the spirit and elegance with 
 which they were written. 
 
 The intrinsic merit of the Papers would have been 
 sufficient of itself to justify the republication of a care- 
 ful selection from them; but the press of New York hav- 
 ing recently issued a promiscuous collection of them, the 
 proprietor of the copyright felt that it was a matter of 
 duty not only to himself, but to the Authors of the
 
 IV PREFACE. 
 
 Papers, to present them to the public in a correct and 
 authentic form. 
 
 The project of the Sketches did not originate with 
 Mr. SHEIL; the idea was first suggested by his friend 
 Mr. WILLIAM HENRY CURRAN, who commenced the 
 series with a character of the late LORD PLUNKET, and 
 in numerous other papers largely contributed to the 
 success of the design. Notwithstanding this fact, 
 the American publisher has not only confounded 
 Mr. SHEIL'S contributions with Mr. CURRAN'S, assign- 
 ing the whole to the pen of the former, but has had 
 the assurance to pretend in his preface that a com- 
 pilation so discreditable was undertaken with the 
 approbation and authority of Mr. SHEIL himself. 
 
 It must also be observed, that in the American 
 edition, the most palpable mistakes of the press in 
 the original Papers are religiously preserved and re- 
 peated; and the errors in the classical quotations 
 (those everlasting stumbling-blocks of printers) are 
 copied with scrupulous nicety. We are informed, in a 
 cautious note, that by "Goethe's Metempsyphiles," 
 may possibly have been intended " Goethe's Mephisto- 
 philes." A slip of the pen so obvious as " the Chorus 
 of Apothecaries in Moliere's Bourgeois Gentilhomme," 
 remains uncorrected. In one place, CHARLES BUTLER, 
 the lawyer, is confounded with ALBAN BUTLER, the
 
 PREFACE. !r 
 
 divine, and affirmed to be the author of the " Lives of 
 the Saints." In another the late EARL GREY is repre- 
 sented, in the year 1825, as still overwhelmed with 
 sorrow for the death of Mr. Fox ; in short, there is no 
 end to the blunders and absurdities with which the 
 publication abounds. 
 
 Mr. SHEII/S papers, here reprinted, naturally sub- 
 divide themselves into the Sketches of the Bar and 
 articles illustrative of the Author's political career. 
 In selecting and arranging the materials, the Editor 
 has thought it desirable to subjoin a few occasional 
 notes, for the most part explanatory of allusions 
 to local occurrences, or circumstances which the lapse 
 of time has involved in obscurity. In a few instances, 
 where the subject seemed too minute and trivial to be 
 either entertaining or instructive to the public at the 
 present day, a Paper has been omitted ; and the Editor 
 has exercised the same discretion in one or two other 
 cases, where he could not but feel that the Author 
 himself, if living, would have decidedly objected to 
 republication, as an unbecoming revival of personalities, 
 which would no longer find a justification or excuse in 
 the conflicting interests and excited passions of the 
 hour. 
 
 The date of the appearance of each Paper has been 
 carefully given; and the Author's notes, of which, how-
 
 yi PREFACE. 
 
 ever, not more than two or three will be found in the 
 course of the work, are distinguished from the Editor's 
 by the letter A affixed to them. 
 
 When the Sketches of the Irish Bar first appeared, 
 they purported (for reasons no longer existing) to be 
 written by an Englishman, who had visited Ireland. 
 This is mentioned here, solely in order to prevent any 
 perplexity to the reader, in the occasional passages, 
 throughout the series, in which this assumed character 
 of the writer is indicated.
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 THE FIRST VOLUME. 
 
 LEGAL SKETCHES. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 MR. BUSHB .... .... 3 
 
 MR. SAURIN 41 
 
 MR. JOY 65 
 
 LORD NORBURY .... 85 
 
 THE CATHOLIC BAR 119 
 
 MR. BELLEW 143 
 
 MR, O'LOGHLEN 157 
 
 MR. LESLIE FOSTER AND THE LOUTH ] 
 
 > 167 
 
 ELECTION OP 1826 .. .... J 
 
 MR. LESLIE FOSTER, AS A BABMSTBB,' 
 
 SCHOLAB, AND COMMISSIONER OF EDU- \ 183 
 
 CATION
 
 viii CONTENTS. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 CALAMITIES OP THE BAR 197 
 
 DIARY OF A BARRISTER 229 
 
 BURNING OF THE SHEAS 253 
 
 FAREWELL OF LORD MANNERS 275 
 
 THE MURDER OF HOLYCROSS 287 
 
 OBSERVATIONS ON AGRARIAN CRIME 317 
 
 NOTES UPON CIRCUIT.... , 329 
 
 POLITICAL SKETCHES. 
 
 STATE OF PARTIES IN DUBLIN 365 
 
 STATE OF PARTIES IN DUBLIN 393
 
 SKETCHES OF THE BAB. 
 
 VOL. I.
 
 SKETCHES OF THE BAR 
 
 MR. B U S H E. 
 
 [OCTOBEE, 1822.] 
 
 MR. BUSHE is the son of a clergyman of the Estab- 
 lished Church, who resided at Kilmurry, in the county 
 of Kilkenny, in the midst of the most elegant and most 
 accomplished society in Ireland. He was in the enjoy- 
 ment of a lucrative living, and being of an ancient 
 family, which had established itself in Ireland in the 
 reign of Charles the Second, he thought it incumbent 
 upon him to live upon a scale of expenditure more con- 
 sistent with Irish notions of dignity than with English 
 maxims of economy and good sense. He was a man of 
 refined manners, and of polished if not prudential 
 habits. His son Charles imbibed from him an ardent 
 love of literature, and had an opportunity, from his 
 familiar intercourse with the best company in the king- 
 dom, to acquire those graces of manner which render 
 him a model of elegance in private life, and which, in 
 the discharge of professional business, impart such a 
 
 B 2
 
 4 SKETCHES OF THE BAR. 
 
 dignified suavity to his demeanour as to charm the 
 senses before the understanding is addressed. His 
 mother was the sister of Major-General Sir John 
 Doyle, and is said to have been a highly cultivated 
 woman. 
 
 Mr. Bushe received his education in the University 
 of Dublin, and, I may add, in the Historical Society, 
 which was established by the students for the culti- 
 vation of eloquence and of the arts which are connected 
 with it. Although it derived its appellation from the 
 study of history, to which it was nominally dedicated, 
 the political situation of the country speedily directed 
 its pursuits to the acquisition of the faculty of public 
 speech; through which every man of talent expected 
 to rise into eminence, at a period when oratory was the 
 great staple commodity in the intellectual market. This 
 institution rose of its own accord out of the spontaneous 
 ambition of the students of the University. So far 
 from assisting its growth, the fellows of the college 
 employed every expedient to repress it. Their own 
 monastic habits made them look with distaste upon an 
 establishment whose pursuits were so widely at variance 
 with their own tastes ; and they were as much at a loss 
 to discover the use of oratory, as the professor at 
 Louvain to find out the benefit of Greek. They uni- 
 formly endeavoured to counteract the society, upon a 
 variety of pretences ; but their chief motive of oppo- 
 sition appears to have arisen from the liberality of the 
 sentiments which were inculcated in the discussions 
 which took place at the weekly meetings of the insti- 
 tution. They observed that toleration had become a 
 prevalent doctrine in the college : this they justly attri- 
 buted to that diffusion of truth which of necessity
 
 ME. BUSHE. 5 
 
 attends its investigation: and saw that the genius of 
 Orangeism, which had so long found a secure asylum 
 within their cloisters, had been disturbed in the place 
 of its favourite abode. 
 
 In the true spirit of monks (and however they may 
 differ in the forms of their faith, in their habits, and in 
 the practical results in which their principles are illus- 
 trated and embodied, the monks of all religions are 
 inveterately the same), the Superiors of the University 
 took the society under their baneful protection. They 
 attempted to hug it to death in their rugged and hirsute 
 embrace. The students, however, soon became aware 
 of the real objects of their interference, and were com- 
 pelled, in order to preserve the institution from the 
 consequences of so impure a connection, to recede from 
 the University, and hold their meetings beyond its 
 walls. This was a step inconsistent with the discipline 
 which ought to be maintained in every establishment 
 for the education of youth ; but any violation of pro- 
 priety which it involved, may justly be laid to the 
 charge of the superiors of the college, by whom it was 
 provoked.* 
 
 Mr. Bushe had been recently called to the Bar, but 
 had not yet devoted himself to its severer studies with 
 the strenuous assiduity which is necessary for success 
 in so laborious a profession. But the fame which he 
 had acquired in the society itself, induced its rebellious 
 members to apply to him to pronounce a speech at the 
 close of the first session which was held beyond the 
 
 * Mr. Shell was himself a distinguished member of the society in 
 question, in the second phase of its existence; he frequently obtained its 
 medals for oratory and composition, especially the latter. See an article 
 on the subject in the Irish Quarterly Review for last September.
 
 6 SKETCHES OF THE BAR. 
 
 precincts of the college, for the purpose of giving the 
 dignity and importance to their proceedings which they 
 expected to derive from the sanction of his distinguished 
 name. Mr. Bushe acceded to the request, and pro- 
 nounced a very eloquent oration, which Mr. Phillips 
 has, 1 observe, inserted in his collection of " Specimens 
 of Irish Oratory." It is remarkable for purity and 
 simplicity of style, and for an argumentative tone, 
 which in so young a man, who had hitherto exercised 
 himself upon topics which invited a puerile declamation, 
 and the discussion of which was a mere mockery of 
 debate, afforded grounds for anticipating that peculiar 
 excellence which he afterwards attained. A few meta- 
 phors are interspersed, but they are not of the ordinary 
 class of Irish illustration ; and what was unavoidable 
 in an assembly composed of insurgent students, an 
 hyperbole is occasionally to be found in the course of 
 this very judicious speech. But, taken as a whole, it 
 bears the character of the mature production of a 
 vigorous mind, rather than of the prolusion of a juvenile 
 rhetorician.* 
 
 * Mr. Grattan, who heard Mr. Bushe speak in the Historical Society, 
 said, "he spoke with the lips of an angel." See Lord Brougham's 
 Statesmen of the Reign of George the Fourth, where he thus pro- 
 nounces judgment on Mr. Bushe's eloquence : " His merit as a speaker 
 WES of the highest description. His power of narration has not per- 
 haps been equalled. Perfect simplicity, but united with elegance; a 
 lucid arrangement and unbroken connection of all the facts ; the constant 
 introduction of the most picturesque expressions, but never as ornaments: 
 these, the great qualities of narration, accomplish its great end and pur- 
 pose ; they place the story or the scene before the hearer or the reader, 
 M if be witnessed the reality. It is unnecessary to add that the tempe- 
 rate and chaste and even saddened tone of the whole is unvaried and 
 unbroken ; but such praise belongs to every part of this great speaker's 
 oratory. The utmost that partial criticism could do to find a feult was
 
 MR. BUSHE. 7 
 
 This circumstance is a little remarkable. The pas- 
 sion for figurative decoration was at this time at its 
 height in Ireland. The walls of the Parliament-House 
 resounded with dithyrambics, in which, at the same 
 time, truth and nature were too frequently sacrificed 
 to effect. The intellect of the country was in its in- 
 fancy, and although it exhibited signs of athletic 
 vigour, it was pleased with the gorgeous baubles which 
 were held out for its entertainment. It is therefore 
 somewhat singular that while a taste of this kind 
 enjoyed so wide and almost universal a prevalence, 
 Mr. Bushe should, at so early a period of his profes- 
 sional life, have manifested a sense of its imperfections, 
 and have traced out for himself a course so different 
 from that which had been pursued by men whose 
 genius had invested their vices with so much alluring 
 splendour. This circumstance is partly, perhaps, to be 
 attributed to the strong instinct of propriety which was 
 born with his mind, and, in some degree, to his having 
 passed a considerable time out of Ireland, where he 
 became conversant with models of a purer, if not of 
 a nobler eloquence, than that which was cultivated in 
 the sister kingdom. He lived in France for some 
 years amongst men of letters ; and although the revo- 
 lution had subverted, in a great degree, the principles 
 of literature as well as of government, yet enough of 
 relish for classical beauty and simplicity had survived, 
 amongst men who had received the advantages of 
 education, to furnish him with the opportunity, of 
 which he so advantageously availed himself, of culti- 
 
 to praise the suavity of the orator at the expense of his force. John 
 Kemble described him as " the greatest actor off the stage," &c.
 
 8 SKETCHES OF THE BAB. 
 
 vating a better style of expression than he would, in all 
 probability, have adopted had he permanently resided 
 in Ireland. 
 
 It may appear strange that I should partly attribute 
 the eminence in oratory to which Mr. Bushe has 
 attained, to the Historical Society, after having stated 
 that he deviated so widely from the tone of elocution 
 which prevailed in that establishment, and in which, 
 if there was little of childishness, there was much of 
 boyhood. But, with all its imperfections, it must be 
 recollected that such an institution afforded an occasion 
 for the practice of the art of public speaking, which is 
 as much, perhaps, the result of practical acquisition, as 
 it is of natural endowment. A false ambition of orna- 
 ment might prevail in its assemblies, and admiration 
 might be won by verbose extravagance and boisterous 
 inanity ; but a man of genius must still have turned 
 such an institution to account. He must have thrown 
 out a vast quantity of ore which time and circum- 
 stance would afterwards separate and refine. His 
 faculties must have been put into action, and he must 
 have learned the art, as well as tasted the delight, of 
 stirring the hearts and exalting the minds of a large 
 concourse of men. The physique of oratory too, if I 
 may use the expression, must have been acquired. 
 A just sense of the value of gesture and intonation 
 results from the practice of public speaking; and the 
 appreciation of their importance is necessary to their 
 attainment. It is for these reasons that I am inclined 
 to refer a portion of the prosperity which has accom- 
 panied Mr. Bushe through his profession, to an institu- 
 tion, the suppression of which, under the provostship 
 of Doctor Ellington, has been a source of great regret
 
 MR. BUSHE. 9 
 
 to every person who had the interests of literature at 
 heart. 
 
 It was at one period expected that Doctor Magee 
 would -have heen appointed provost; and his repeated 
 declarations, and even remonstrances in its favour, were 
 confidently regarded as affording a security that he 
 would re-establish a society to which, as well as his 
 distinguished contemporaries, he had acknowledged him- 
 self to be deeply indebted. But, unfortunately for the 
 interests of the college and of the country, that 
 eminent divine has not had an opportunity of ac- 
 complishing his desires, and of restoring an institution 
 in which polite literature was cultivated to such an 
 extent as to compensate for its deplorable neglect in 
 the regular course of the University.* 
 
 The reputation which Mr. Bushe had acquired 
 among his fellow- students, attended him to his pro- 
 fession; and in a very short period he rose into the 
 public notice, as an advocate of distinguished abilities. 
 It was indeed impossible that he should remain in 
 obscurity. His genius was not of such a character as 
 to stand in need of a great subject for its display 
 The most trivial business furnished him with an oc- 
 casion to produce a striking effect. There are some 
 men who require a lofty theme for the manifestation 
 of their powers. Their minds demand the stimulus of 
 
 * Dr. Magee had just been translated from the see of Raphoe to the 
 archbishopric of Dublin when this sketch appeared. It was not until 
 after his advancement that he developed those traits of his character 
 which have given him an unenviable reputation in the history of the 
 Protestant Church in Ireland. In the subsequent papers, entitled 
 State of Parties in Dublin, and The New Hohenloe Miracle, this 
 eminent, or rather notorious divine, will be seen pourtrayed ha his proper 
 colours.
 
 10 SKETCHES OF THE BAB. 
 
 high passion, and are slow and sluggish unless awakened 
 by the excitement which great interests afford. This is 
 peculiarly the case with Mr. Burrowes, who upon a 
 noble topic is one of the ablest advocates of the Irish 
 bar, but who seems oppressed by the very levity of a 
 petty subject, and sinks under its inanity.* He is in 
 every respect the opposite of Mr. Bushe, who could not 
 open his lips, or raise his hand, without immediately 
 exciting and almost captivating the attention of every 
 man around him. 
 
 There is a peculiar mellowness and deep sweetness 
 in his voice, the lower tones of which might almost 
 without hazard of exaggeration be compared to the 
 most delicate notes of an organ, when touched with a 
 fine but solemn hand. It is a voice full of manly 
 melody. There is no touch of effeminacy about it. 
 It possesses abundance as well as harmony, and is not 
 more remarkable for its sweetness than its sonorous 
 depth. His attitude and gesture are the perfection of 
 "easy art" every movement of his body appears to 
 be swayed and informed by a dignified and natural 
 grace. His countenance is of the finest order of fine 
 faces, and contains an expression of magnanimous 
 frankness, that in the enforcement of any cause which 
 
 * Mr. Peter Bnrrowes has passed away, like the greater number of 
 distinguished Irishmen mentioned in these pages. He was a man of 
 strenuous intellect, much original genius, and a charming simplicity and 
 benignity of character. A member of the last Irish Parliament, he 
 vigorously opposed the destruction of that assembly. What he was at 
 the bar the author has briefly and accurately defined. Among other 
 professional achievements, he displayed great energy and ability in 
 defence of the Catholic delegates, whose prosecution by Mr. Saurin is 
 referred to in the seqnel of this paper. For many years Mr. Burrowes 
 filled the office of Commissioner of the Insolvent Court, and he died at a 
 very advanced age.
 
 MR. BUSHE. 11 
 
 he undertakes to advocate, invests him with such a 
 semblance of sincerity as to lend to his assertion of 
 fact, or to his vindication of good principle, an irre- 
 sistible force. It was not wonderful that he should 
 have advanced with extreme rapidity in his profession, 
 seconded as he was by such high advantages. It was 
 speedily perceived that he possessed an almost com- 
 manding influence with the jury; and he was in con- 
 sequence employed in every case of magnitude which 
 called for the exertion of such eminent faculties as he 
 manifested upon every occasion in which his powers 
 were put into requisition. 
 
 Talents of so distinguished a kind could not fail to 
 raise him into political consequence, as well as to insure 
 his professional success. The chief object of every 
 young man of abilities at the Bar was to obtain a seat 
 in parliament. It secured him the applause of his 
 country if he devoted himself to her interests ; or if he 
 enlisted himself under the gilded banners of the 
 minister, place, pension, and authority were the cer- 
 tain remunerations of the profligate services which his 
 talents enabled him to bestow upon a government 
 which had reduced corruption into system, and was 
 well aware that it was only by the debasement of her 
 legislature that Ireland could be kept under its con- 
 trol. The mind of Mr. Bushe was of too noble a cast 
 to lend itself to purposes so uncongenial to a free 
 and lofty spirit; and he preferred the freedom of his 
 country and the retiibutive consciousness of the appro- 
 bation of his own heart, to the ignominious distinctions 
 with which the administration would have been glad to 
 reward the dereliction of what he owed to Ireland and 
 to himself. Accordingly we find, that Mr. Bushe threw
 
 12 SKETCHES OF THE BAB. 
 
 all the energy of his youth into opposition to a measure 
 which he considered fatal to that greatness which 
 Nature appeared to have intended that his country 
 should attain; and to the last he stood among the 
 band of patriots who offered a generous but unavailing 
 resistance to a legislative Union with Great Britain.* 
 
 However, as an Englishman I may rejoice in an event, 
 which, if followed by Koman Catholic Emancipation, 
 will ultimately abolish all national antipathy, and give a 
 permanent consolidation to the empire; it cannot be 
 fairly questioned that every native of Ireland ought to 
 have felt that her existence as a country was at stake, 
 and that, in place of making those advances in power, 
 wealth, and civilization, to which her natural advantages 
 would have inevitably led, she must of necessity sustain 
 a declension as rapid as her progress towards improve- 
 ment had previously been, and sink into the provincial 
 inferiority to which she is now reduced.f This convic- 
 tion, the justice of which has been so well exemplified 
 
 * Mr. Bushc represented the borough of Donegal. He spoke but 
 once on the question of the Union (in the debate on the 15th January), 
 with the exception of a brief but energetic reply to the Prime Sergeant 
 (Daly), who had hazarded some coarse remarks upon the mode of Mr. 
 Bushe's introduction into the house. He wrote, however, as well as 
 poke, on the popular side. Of his pamphlet entitled Cease your 
 Funning, in reply to a manifesto from the Castle, Lord Brougham 
 observes : " It is indeed admirably executed, and reminds the reader of 
 the best of Dean Swift's political writings, being indeed every way 
 worthy of his pen." 
 
 t The character of an Englishman, assumed in the earliest of these 
 essays (no doubt as a convenient mask for a greater latitude of criticism 
 and freedom of remark), does not appeal to have been very carefully 
 maintained in many of them, while in some it will be found to have been 
 dropped altogether, the inconvenience of the disguise having probably 
 been discovered by experience.
 
 MR. BUSHE. 13 
 
 by the event, prevailed through Ireland ; and it required 
 all the seductions which the minister could employ, to 
 produce the sentence of self-annihilation, -which he at 
 last succeeded jn. persuading a servile legislature to 
 pronounce. 
 
 To the honour of the Irish bar, the great majority of 
 its members were faithful to the national cause : and 
 Curran, Plunket, Ponsonby, Saurin, Burrowes, and 
 Bushe, accomplished all that eloquence and patriotism 
 could effect, in opposition to the mercenaries, who had 
 sold the dignity of their profession, as well as the inde- 
 pendence of their country, in exchange for that ignoble 
 station, to which by their slimy profligacies they were 
 enabled to crawl up. Bushe was the youngest of these 
 able and honest men ; but he was among the most con- 
 spicuous of them all. In answer to what was urged in 
 favour of the Union, grounded upon the necessity of 
 employing corrupt means to govern the country as long 
 as there were two independent legislatures, and in ridi- 
 cule of the improvement which it was alleged that the 
 Irish Parliament would derive from its union with that 
 of England, he said : 
 
 " The pure and incorruptible virtue of the ministers 
 cannot bear the prospect of such corruption, and that 
 they may not see it, they plunge into the midst of it. 
 They are Platonists in politics ; the gross sensualities of 
 the connection disgust them, but the pure and spiritual 
 indulgences of the union delight them. I own I always 
 suspect this furious virtue : the morals of prudery are 
 always problematical. When I see this pliable patriotism 
 declaiming with surly indignation to-day, and cringing 
 with supple adulation to-morrow in the morning 
 Diogenes growling in his tub, and in the evening Aris-
 
 14 SKETCHES OP THE BAR. 
 
 tippus fawning in the ante-chamber I always suspect 
 that there is something more than meets the eye. I 
 would ask some one of those enlarged and liberal poli- 
 ticians, does he think that the simple executive govern- 
 ment which is to be left in Ireland, will be an improve- 
 ment upon our situation, and whether he knows of no 
 method to reform the parliament, except by annihilating 
 it ? The noble Lord (Castlereagh) may instruct him by 
 retracing the speculations of his youthful days, and 
 supply him with some of those plans of reform which it 
 would not have cost him half so much trouble to carry 
 as the extinction of parliament. But what is to be the 
 transfiguration which is to glorify it, and how is this 
 corruptible to put on incorruption ? It is sentenced to 
 death. In Ireland it is to suffer the death of a felon; 
 but its resurrection in Westminster, in the midst of 
 angel purity and immaculate innocence, is, it seems, to 
 compensate for the suspension of its political life. But 
 have these high priests of the new dispensation revealed 
 the truth to us, as to this paradise of Westminster ? Do 
 they know the British Parliament who thus speak ? Do 
 they think there is no borough patronage or borough 
 representation? Do they suppose there are no place- 
 men ? Do they conceive it a pool of Bcthesda, in which 
 our impurities are to be cleansed ? Do they forget that 
 this immaculate parliament, more than twenty years 
 ago, declared by a solemn vote that the influence of the 
 Crown had increased, was increasing, and ought to be 
 diminished? Do they forget that the present prime 
 minister declared eighteen years ago, that unless that 
 assembly was radically reformed, the empire was lost ? 
 Do they know that it has never been reformed since ? 
 and do they think that one hundred Irish transplanta-
 
 MR. BUSHE. 15 
 
 tions will reform it ? Have they ever considered that 
 there ministerial influence predominates so effectually, 
 that the opposition has seceded in despair ? Have they 
 ever visited this exhibition of pure representation? 
 Have they ever looked at Mr. Pitt governing that 
 assembly by his nod, and scarcely concealing his own 
 actual despotism with the forms of the constitution ?" 
 
 In this strenuous resistance which was offered by the 
 respectable portion of the Irish Bar to the measure 
 which deprived Ireland of the advantages of a local 
 legislature, a consciousness of deep personal interest 
 must have been mingled with their public virtue; for it 
 was not difficult to foresee that the profession from 
 which the government was compelled to make the 
 selection of its parliamentary advocates, and to which 
 the country looked for its ablest support, must sustain a 
 fatal injury, from the deprivation of the opportunities of 
 venality upon one hand, and of profitable patriotism 
 upon the other. The House of Commons was the field 
 to which almost every lawyer of abilities directed his 
 hopes of eminence rather than to the courts of law; and 
 it must be acknowledged, that with that field the career 
 to high fame is closed upon the profession. Money 
 may now be made in equal abundance by laborious 
 ability (and indeed the quantity of talent and of industry 
 at the Irish Bar demand in every individual who aims 
 at important success a combination of both) ; but no 
 very valuable reputation can be obtained. Perhaps in 
 the estimate of black-letter erudition the change is not 
 to be deplored : and unquestionably the knowledge of 
 law (for a few years ago the majority of barristers in 
 full practice were ignorant of its elementary principles) 
 has considerably increased, and English habits of busi-
 
 16 SKETCHES OF THE BAR. 
 
 ness and of diligence are gradually beginning to appear. 
 But the elevated objects of ambition, worthy of great 
 faculties and of great minds, were withdrawn for ever. 
 
 Mr. Bushe must have repined at the prospect. He 
 would naturally have sought for mines of gold amidst 
 the heights of fame, and he was now reduced to the 
 necessity of digging for it in an obscure and dreary 
 level. It is well known that Mr. Plunket had at the 
 time entertained the intention of going to the English 
 Bar, in consequence of the exportation of the legisla- 
 ture ; but the cautious timidity of his advisers induced 
 him to abandon the idea. I am not aware whether 
 Mr. Bushe had ever proposed to himself an abandon- 
 ment of a country, from which true genius must have 
 been tempted to become an absentee. But it is likely 
 that his pecuniary circumstances, which in consequence 
 of his spontaneous generosity in paying off his father's 
 debts (his own sense of duty had rendered them debts 
 of honour in his mind) were at this period extremely 
 contracted, must have prevented him from engaging in 
 so adventurous an enterprise. 
 
 To him individually, however, if the Union was 
 accompanied with many evils, it was also attended with 
 countervailing benefits. Had the Irish Parliament 
 been permitted to exist, Mr. Bushe would, in all pro- 
 bability, have continued in opposition to the govern- 
 ment, upon questions to which much importance would 
 have been annexed. Catholic emancipation, which is 
 now not only innocent, but in the mind of almost every 
 enlightened man has become indispensable, would have 
 been regarded as pregnant with danger to the state. 
 Mr. Bushe, I am satisfied, could never have brought 
 himself to resist what his own instincts must have
 
 MR. BUSHE. 17 
 
 taught him to be due to that justice which he would 
 have considered as paramount to expediency. Many 
 obstacles would have stood iu the way of a sincere 
 reconciliation with the government, and he could not 
 afford to play the part of Fabricius. Whether the argu- 
 ments which Lord Castlereagh knew so well how to 
 apply, and before which, in the estimate of the House 
 of Commons, all the eloquence of Grattan was reduced 
 into a magnificent evaporation, would have prevailed 
 upon Mr. Bushe, as they did with the majority of the 
 Irish members, it is unnecessary to conjecture ; but un- 
 questionably had not the Union passed, he must have 
 abandoned his political opinions before he could have 
 been raised to office. When, however, that measure 
 was carried, a compromise became easy, and was not, 
 in my opinion, dishonourable. Accordingly, although 
 he had opposed the government on the measure which 
 they had most at heart, their just sense of his talents 
 induced them to offer him the place of Solicitor- General, 
 to which he was promoted in thirteen years after he had 
 been called to the Bar.* That office he has since 
 held, and rendered the most important services to the 
 minister, without perhaps, at the same time, ever having 
 been guilty of any dereliction of his former opinions. 
 He was placed indeed in rather an embarrassing 
 
 * By the Government of Lord Hardwicke, in 1805. The Attorney- 
 General was Mr. Plunket. Both retained their offices under the 
 "Talents" administration, 1806-7. On the breaking up of that short- 
 lived ministry, Mr. Plunket retired ; but Mr. Bushe, as colleague to Mr. 
 Saurin, continued to hold the place of Solicitor-General until Lord 
 Wellesley came to Ireland in 1822, when he was raised to the Chief- 
 Justiceship of the King's Bench. He was promoted in the interval 
 between the writing and publishing of this sketch, as appears by the note 
 appended to it by the author. 
 
 VOL. I. C
 
 18 SKETCHES OF THE BAR. 
 
 position ; for his associate, or rather his superintendent 
 in office, Mr. Saurin, was conspicuous for his hatred to 
 the Roman Catholic cause, of which Mr. Bushe had 
 been, and still professed himself, the earnest friend. 
 This' antipathy to the Roman Catholics formed the lead- 
 ing, I may say the only feature, in the political cha- 
 racter of Saurin, who had simplified the theory of 
 Government in Ireland, by almost making its perfec- 
 tion consist in the oppression of a majority of its people. 
 Bushe, on the other hand, had often declared, that he 
 considered the general degradation of so large a class of 
 the community as incompatible with national felicity. 
 This difference of opinion is said to have produced a 
 want of cordiality between the two servants of the 
 Crown ; Bushe, however, with all his liberality of feel- 
 ing (and I have no doubt that his professions were en- 
 tirely sincere), was of infinitely more use to the Govern- 
 ment than Saurin could possibly have been, when the 
 suppression of the Roman Catholic Board was resolved 
 upon. The latter, upon the trial of the delegates 
 exhibited a sombre virulence, which was calculated to 
 excite wonder rather than conviction. Its gloomy 
 animosity was without a ray of eloquence. But the 
 Solicitor-General produced a very different effect. 
 
 He stood before the jury as the advocate of the 
 Catholic cause, to suppress the Roman Catholic Board. 
 The members of that body had been designated as mis- 
 creants by Mr. Saurin (that learned gentleman appears 
 to be averse to any circumlocutory form of phrase) ; 
 the Solicitor-General called them his friends. With a 
 consummate wile he professed himself the champion of 
 the people, and put forth all his ardour in insisting upon 
 the necessity of concession to six millions of men. To
 
 MR. BTJSHE. 19 
 
 the utterance of these sentiments, which astonished 
 Mr. Saurin, he annexed the full power of his wonderful 
 delivery. His countenance became inflamed ; his voice 
 assumed all the varieties of its most impassioned intona- 
 tion ; and his person was informed and almost elevated 
 by the consciousness of the noble thoughts which he 
 was enforcing, for the purpose of investing the very 
 fallacies which he intended to inculcate with the 
 splendid semblances of truth. After having wrought 
 his hearers to a species of enthusiasm, and alarmed the 
 Attorney-General by declaring, with an attitude almost 
 as noble as the sentiment which it was intended to set 
 off, that he would throw the constitution to his Catholic 
 countrymen as widely open as his own breast, he sud- 
 denly turned back, and after one of those pauses, the 
 effect of which can be felt by those only who have been 
 present upon such occasions, in the name of those very 
 principles of justice which he had so powerfully laid 
 down, he implored the jury to suppress an institution 
 in the country, which he asserted to be, the greatest 
 obstacle to the success of that measure, for the attain- 
 ment of which it had been ostensibly established.* 
 
 * A further account of these trials, which caused great sensation at 
 the time, will be found in the historical notice by Mr. Sheil of the 
 Catholic Leaders and Associations. As a specimen of Mr. Bushe's 
 eloquence, the following passage from his speech in the case of Sheridan, 
 one of the delegates, may not be unacceptable in this place. The pro- 
 ceedings were ably reported by Mr. Hatchell, the late Attorney-General 
 for Ireland : " It has been clamourously urged that the Government has 
 declared war against the subject's right of petitioning, which it is insisted is 
 illimitable ; like the freedom of the press, not subject to previous restraint, 
 and only controllable for subsequent excess. This is a most mistaken 
 view of the Constitution ; there is no such principle known to our Con- 
 stitution as those illimitable rights. It exists by its restraints, its 
 controls, its checks and balances. It is new and unconstitutional doctrine 
 
 c 2
 
 20 SKETCHES OF THE BAR. 
 
 The eloquence of Mr. Bushe, assisted by certain 
 contrivances behind the scenes, to which government 
 is, in Dublin, occasionally obliged to resort,, produced 
 the intended effect. I doubt not that a jury so properly 
 compounded (the panel of which, if not suggested, was 
 at least revised) would have given a verdict for the crown, 
 although Mr. Bushe had never addressed them. But 
 the government stood in need of something more than 
 
 to talk of the unrestrained rights of the people. What is that most 
 precious right of the people of these countries, the right which the 
 Catholic Committee is about to usurp ? The right of representation ; 
 that which distinguishes us from all the nations of the earth. Is it 
 unrestrained ? Was it ever uncontrolled ? The rights and qualifications 
 of electors are measured by property, situation, and independence. The 
 title to elect must be ascertained by registry and identified by record. 
 The capacity is confined, the law of election is complicated, and a special 
 tribunal is appointed to administer it. When the senate is convened, 
 the members are under the control of the speaker. Their very privilege 
 of speech is definite, and their duration depends upon the king, who can 
 prorogue or dissolve them. Compare this right of representation with 
 that claimed by the Catholic Committee, and in the contrast behold 
 the wisdom of the Convention Act and the necessity of these prosecutions. 
 If the legitimate parliament were to be assembled as this Committee has 
 been, the Constitution would not survive the first election. Can it be 
 the constitution or the law, that what is denied to the Parliament shall 
 be allowed to a committee, and all the evils of democracy let loose upon 
 the state universal suffrage, promiscuous eligibility, and indiscriminate 
 representation ? Suppose this extraordinary meeting to assemble, who 
 is to control them ? Who is their Speaker ? Who their Serjeant-at- 
 arms ? If in such an assembly, a rash young man, inflamed by debate, 
 should eulogize and hold up to respect the rebels of 1798 as patriots and 
 martyrs, who is there to call him to order ? Compare such a constitu- 
 tion with the established authorities of the land all controlled, confined 
 to their respective spheres, balancing and gravitating to each other, all 
 symmetry, all order, all harmony. Behold on the other hand this prodigy 
 in the political hemisphere, with eccentric course and portentous 
 glare, disclaiming any orbit, disturbing the system, and affrighting the 
 world."
 
 ME. BUSHE. 21 
 
 a mere verdict. It was necessary to give plausibility to 
 their proceedings, and they found it in the oratory of this 
 distinguished advocate. Is it not a little surprising that 
 Mr. Bushe should, in despite of the vigour of his exer- 
 tions against the Catholic Board, and their success, 
 have still retained his popularity ? It would be natural 
 that such services as he conferred upon the ministry, 
 which appeared so much at variance with the interests, 
 and in which he acted a part so diametrically in oppo- 
 sition to the passions, of the people, should have gene- 
 rated a feeling of antipathy against him. But the event 
 was otherwise. He had previously ingratiated himself 
 so much in the general liking, and so liberal an allow- 
 ance was made for the urgency of the circumstances in- 
 which he was placed, that he retained the favour not 
 only of the better classes among the Roman Catholics, 
 but did not lose the partialities of the populace itself. 
 At all events, the benefits he rendered to the government 
 were most material, and gave him the strongest claims 
 upon their gratitude. 
 
 Another remarkable instance occurred not very long 
 ago, of the value of such a man to the Irish adminis- 
 tration, and it is the more deserving of mention, as it 
 is connected with circumstances which have excited no 
 inconsiderable interest in the House of Commons, and 
 brought Mr. Plunket and his rival into an immediate 
 and honourable competition. I allude to the case of 
 the Chief Baron O'Grady, when he set up a claim to 
 nominate to the office of Clerk of the Pleas in the 
 Court of Exchequer in Ireland. The prize for which 
 the learned Judge was adventuring was a great one, 
 and well worth the daring experiment for which he 
 exposed himself to the permanent indignation of the
 
 22 SKETCHES OF THE BAR. 
 
 government. The salary of the office was to be counted 
 by thousands, and the Chief Baron thought that it 
 would be as conducive to the public interests; and as 
 consistent with the pure administration of justice, that he 
 should appoint one of his own family to fill the vacancy 
 which had occurred, as that the local ministry of Ire- 
 land should make the appointment. The matter Avas 
 brought before Parliament ; and much was said, though 
 I think unjustly, upon the ambitious cupidity of his 
 pretensions. The right of nomination was made the 
 subject of legal proceedings by the Crown, and the 
 Attorney- General, Mr. Saurin, thought proper to con- 
 trovert the claims of the Chief Baron in the shape of a 
 Quo warranto, which was considered a harsh and vexa- 
 tious course by the friends of the learned Judge, in 
 order to ascertain the naked question of right. 
 
 The latter secured Mr. Plunket as his advocate. He 
 had been his early friend, and had contributed, it was 
 said, to raise him to the place of Solicitor when he was 
 himself appointed to that of Attorney- General, and 
 had lived with him upon terms of the most familiar 
 intercourse. It was stated, but I cannot answer for 
 the truth of the general report, that he sent him a fee 
 of three hundred pounds, which Mr. Plunket returned, 
 but which the Chief Baron's knowledge of human nature 
 (and no man is more deeply read in it) insisted upon his 
 accepting partly perhaps because he did not wish to 
 be encumbered with an unremunerated obligation, and 
 no doubt also because he was convinced, as every lawyer 
 is by his professional experience, that the greatest talents 
 stand in need of a pecuniary excitation, and that the 
 emotions of friendship must be stimulated by that sense 
 of duty which is imposed by the actual perception of
 
 ME. BUSHE. 23 
 
 gold. I am sure that Mr. Plunket would have strained 
 his mind to the utmost pitch, without this additional 
 incentive, upon behalf of his learned friend; but still 
 the Chief Baron exhibited his accustomed sagacity, in 
 insisting upon the payment of a fee. 
 
 This was a great cause. The best talents at the Bar 
 were arrayed upon both sides. The issue was one of 
 the highest importance, and to which the legislature 
 looked forward with anxiety. The character of one of 
 the chief judges of the land was in some degree at 
 stake, as well as the claims which he had so enterpris- 
 ingly advanced; and every circumstance conspired to 
 impart an interest to the proceedings, which does not 
 frequently arise. Mr. Saurin stated the case for th& 
 crown with his usual solemnity and deliberation, and 
 with that accuracy and simplicity which render him so 
 valuable an advocate in a court of equity. He was 
 followed by Mr. Plunket. One is apt to think that 
 " an ancient grudge," or at least a rivalry, akin to it, 
 must have subsisted between them. Saurin had suc- 
 ceeded to the office of Attorney-General upon the resig- 
 nation of Mr. Plunket, when, as it was understood at 
 the time, he relinquished his place at the express desire 
 of the Grenville party. He could not but feel some 
 emotions of regret analogous to the corrosions of 
 jealousy, when he saw the golden harvest which he 
 might have reaped, accumulating for fifteen years 
 in the granary of another. It is also likely that he 
 entered warmly into the feelings of his client, and 
 thought that an unfair mode of proceeding had been 
 adopted in his regard. 
 
 But from whatever cause or motive it might have
 
 24 SKETCHES OF THE BAR. 
 
 arisen, he exhibited in his reply that fierce spirit of 
 sarcasm which he has not yet fully displayed in the 
 House of Commons, though it is one of the principal 
 ingredients in his eloquence.* His metaphors are 
 generally sneers, and his flowers of speech are the 
 aconite in full blow. He did not omit the opportunity 
 of falling upon his political antagonist, in whom he left 
 many a scar, which, though half-healed, are visible to 
 the present day. His oration was as much a satire as 
 an argument, and exhibited in their perfection the 
 various attributes of his mind. The impression which 
 he left upon the Court was deep, but that which was 
 made upon the mind of Mr. Saurin was more lasting. 
 Plunket protested that he meant him no offence ; but 
 Saurin felt a poignant resentment at what he considered 
 an affront, and, until very recently, all interchange of 
 ordinary salutation ceased between them. 
 
 Bushe, as Solicitor- General, had to reply, and he 
 felt the importance of the occasion, and the magnitude 
 of the task ; but he also felt the inspiring consciousness 
 of his equality to its discharge. Plunket was his inti- 
 mate friend, and they both admired and esteemed each 
 other. The competition between Saurin and Plunket 
 was that of power, while that between Plunket and 
 Bushe was the more exalted and generous rivalry of 
 mind. But the latter was sensible that, holding an 
 important office under the Crown, and being bound to 
 
 * In the debates on Irish Affairs in 1821, Mr. Sheil might have found 
 a striking display of Mr. Plnnket's powers of sarcasm, to the exercise 
 of which he was provoked by the ultramontane bigotry of Dr. Milner, 
 the celebrated Catholic polemic of the day. Mr. Plnnket's castigation 
 of Mr. Charles Brownlow, another most successful invective, was in the 
 Session of 1824, after this article was written.
 
 ME. BUSHE. 25 
 
 assert its rights, and to protect and vindicate his col- 
 league, it was necessary that he should use little for- 
 bearance in his retaliation. His oratorical ambition, 
 too, was in all probability powerfully excited by the 
 sentiment of emulation, and he accordingly exerted all 
 the resources of his intellect in the contest. His speech 
 was a masterpiece ; and in the general opinion, in those 
 parts of it which principally consisted of declamatory 
 vituperation, he won the palm from his competitor. 
 He was pure, lofty, dignified, and generously impas- 
 sioned. If his reasoning was not so subtle and con- 
 densed, it was more guileless and persuasive, and his 
 delivery far more impressive and of a higher and more 
 commanding tone. A very accurate and cold-blooded 
 observer would have perceived, perhaps, in the speech 
 of Mr. Plunket a deeper current of thought and a 
 more vigorous and comprehensive intellect; but the 
 great proportion of a large assembly would have pre- 
 ferred the eloquence of Bushe. The true value of it 
 cannot be justly estimated by any particular quotations, 
 as the chief merit of all his speeches consists in the unity 
 and proportion of the whole, rather than the beauty 
 and perfection of the details. 
 
 The great reputation obtained by Mr. Plunket in the 
 House of Commons, and which has given him a sway so 
 much more important, and a station so much more valu- 
 able than any professional elevation, no matter how ex- 
 alted, can bestow, must have often excited in the mind 
 of Mr. Bushe, as well as in his admirers, a feeling of 
 regret that he did not offer himself as a candidate for 
 a seat in the Imperial Parliament. It has frequently 
 been a subject of disquisition, whether he would not
 
 26 SKETCHES OF THE BAR. 
 
 have been equal to the most eloquent of the Irish 
 members perhaps the ablest man in the whole House ; 
 and he has been repeatedly urged, both by Government 
 and his own immediate friends, to make the experiment. 
 A certain spirit of prudence, which in a person so 
 endowed borders on timidity, and the apprehension 
 that his business at the Bar might be affected by the 
 necessity of attending the House of Commons, induced 
 him to resist all the precarious allurements of fame 
 held out by a prospect which he justly, perhaps, con- 
 sidered less golden than bright. Upon a recent occa- 
 sion, however, he was upon the point of engaging in 
 this new career the only one, perhaps, which can be 
 regarded as worthy of his abilities. Upon the death 
 of Mr. Grattan, which produced a vacancy in the 
 representation of Dublin, he was solicited to stand for 
 that city. There can be little doubt that even the 
 Orangemen of the Corporation, wedded as they are 
 with such inveterate tenacity to opinions so different 
 from the political sentiments of Mr. Bushe, would, 
 from a feeling of national pride, in which with a some- 
 what singular inconsistency they occasionally indulge, 
 have united with the Roman Catholics in his support, 
 and that he would have been returned without a con- 
 test. But the ambition of Mr. Bushe yielded to the 
 reverence which he cherished for the memory of the 
 illustrious person whom he was solicited to succeed, 
 and accordingly he declined putting himself into com- 
 petition with the son of Henry Grattan. This noble 
 sacrifice at the grave of his departed friend was an 
 unavailing one : the worthy corporators of Dublin 
 selected a person in every respect well qualified to repre-
 
 ME. BUSHE. 27 
 
 sent both their principles and understandings, and the 
 mantle of the great patriot dropped from the chariot 
 of his fame upon the shoulders of Master Ellis.* 
 
 It is the opinion of all those who have had the 
 opportunity of hearing Mr. Bushe, that he would have 
 made a very great figure in the English House of 
 Commons ; and for the purpose of enabling those who 
 have not heard him to form an estimate of the likeli- 
 hood of his success in that assembly, and of the frame 
 and character of his eloquence, a general delineation 
 of this accomplished advocate may not be inappropriate. 
 
 The first circumstance which offers itself to the mind 
 of any man who recalls the recollection of Bushe, in 
 order to furnish a description of his rhetorical attri-v 
 butes, is his delivery. In bringing the remembrance 
 of other speakers of eminence to my contemplation, 
 their several faculties and endowments present them- 
 selves in a different order, according to the proportions 
 of excellence to each other which they respectively 
 bear. In thinking, for example, of Mr. Fox, the 
 torrent of his vehement and overwhelming logic is 
 first before me; if I should pass to his celebrated 
 antagonist, I repose upon the majesty of his am- 
 plification. The wit of Sheridan, the blazing ima- 
 gination and the fantastic drollery of Curran, the 
 forensic and simple vigour of Erskine, and the rapid, 
 versatile, and incessant intensity of Plunket are the 
 first associations which connect themselves with their 
 respective names. But there is no one peculiar faculty 
 of mind which suggests itself in the first instance as 
 
 * See the paper entitled " The Tabinet Ball," among the sketches in 
 Volume II.
 
 28 SKETCHES OF THE BAR. 
 
 the characteristic of Mr. Bushe, and which presses into 
 the van of his qualifications as a public speaker. The 
 corporeal image of the man himself is brought at once 
 into the memory. I do not think of any one distin- 
 guishing attribute in the shape of a single intellectual 
 abstraction it is a picture that I have before me. 
 
 There is a certain rhetorical heroism in the expres- 
 sion of his countenance, when enlightened and inflamed, 
 which I have not witnessed in the faces of other men, 
 The phrase may, perhaps, appear too extravagant and 
 Irish; but those who have his physiognomy in their 
 recollection will not think that the word is inappli- 
 cable. The complexion is too sanguineous and ruddy, 
 but has no murkiness or impurity in its flush; it is 
 indicative of great fulness, but at the same time of 
 great vigour of temperament. The forehead is more 
 lofty than expansive, and suggests itself to be the 
 residence of an elevated rather than of a comprehensive 
 mind. It is not so much the " dome of thought," as 
 "the palace of the soul." It has none of the deep 
 furrows and intellectual indentures which are observ- 
 able in the forehead of Plunket, but is smooth, polished, 
 and marble. 
 
 The eyes are large, globular, and blue; extremely 
 animated with idea, but without any of that diffusive 
 irradiation which belongs to the expression of genius. 
 They are filled with a serene light, but have not much 
 brilliancy or fire. The mind within them seems, how- 
 ever, to be all activity and life, and to combine a 
 singular mixture of intensity and deliberation. The 
 nose is lightly arched, and with sufficient breadth of 
 the nostrils (which physiognomists consider as a type
 
 MR. BUSHE. 29 
 
 of eloquence) to furnish the associations of daring and 
 of power, and terminates with a delicacy and chiseled 
 elegance of proportion, in which it is easy to discover 
 the polished irony and refined satire in which he is 
 accustomed to indulge. 
 
 But the mouth is the most remarkable feature in his 
 countenance ; it is endowed with the greatest variety of 
 sentiment, and contains a rare assemblage of oratorical 
 qualities. It is characteristic of force, firmness, and 
 precision, and is at once affable and commanding, 
 proud and kind, tender and impassioned, accurate and 
 vehement, generous and sarcastic, and is capable of 
 the most conciliating softness and the most impetuous 
 ire. Yet there is something artificial about it from a 
 lurking consciousness of its own expression. Its smile 
 is the great instrument of its effects, but appears to 
 be too systematic; yet it is susceptible of the nicest 
 gradations; it merely flashes and disappears, or, in 
 practised obedience to the will, streams over the whole 
 countenance in a broad and permanent illumination : 
 at one moment it just passes over the lips, and dies at 
 the instant of its birth ; and at another bursts out in 
 an exuberant and overflowing joyousness, and seems 
 caught in the fulness of its hilarity from the face of 
 Comus himself. 
 
 But it is to satire that it is principally and most 
 effectually applied. It is the glitter of the poisoned 
 sneer that is levelled at the heart. The man who is 
 gifted with these powers of physiognomy is, naturally 
 enough, almost too prodigal of their use : and a person 
 who watched Mr. Bushe would perceive that he fre- 
 quently employed the abundant resources of his coun-
 
 30 SKETCHES OF THE BAR. 
 
 tenance instead of the riches of his mind. With him, 
 indeed, a look is often sufficient for all purposes : it 
 
 Conveys a libel in a frown, 
 And winks a reputation down. 
 
 There is a gentleman at the Irish Bar, Mr. Henry 
 Deane Grady, one of whose eyes he has himself desig- 
 nated as "his jury eye;" and, indeed, from his fre- 
 quent application of its ludicrous qualifications, which 
 the learned gentleman often substitutes in the place of 
 argument, even where argument might be obviously 
 employed, it has acquired a sort of professional distor- 
 tion, of which he appears to be somewhat singularly 
 proud. Mr. Bushe does not, it is true, rely so much 
 upon this species of ocular logic ; but even he, with all 
 his good taste, carries it to an extreme. It never 
 amounts to the buffoonery of the old school of Irish 
 barristers, who were addicted to a strange compound 
 of tragedy and farce; but still it is vicious from its 
 excess. 
 
 The port and attitude of Mr. Bushe are as well 
 suited to the purposes of impressiveness as his coun- 
 tenance and its expression. His form, indeed, is rather 
 too corpulent and heavy, and if it were not concealed 
 in a great degree by his gown, would be considered 
 ungainly and inelegant. His stature is not above the 
 middle size ; but his chest is wide and expansive, and 
 lends to his figure an aspect of sedateness and strength. 
 In describing the ablest of his infernal senate, Milton 
 has particularly mentioned the breadth of his " Atlantean 
 shoulders." The same circumstance is specified by 
 Homer in his picture of Ulysses ; and however many 
 speakers of eminence have overcome the disadvantages
 
 ME. BUSHE. 31 
 
 of a weak and slender configuration, it cannot be 
 doubted that we associate with dignity and wisdom an 
 accompaniment of massiveness and power. 
 
 His gesture is of the first order. It is finished and 
 rounded with that perfect care which the orators of 
 antiquity bestowed upon the external graces of eloquence, 
 and is an illustration of the justice of the observation 
 made by the master of them all, that action was not 
 only the chief ingredient, but almost the exclusive 
 constituent of excellence in his miraculous art. There 
 is unquestionably much of that native elegance about 
 it, which is to the body what fancy and imagination 
 are to the mind, and which no efforts of the most 
 laborious diligence can acquire. But the heightening 
 and additions of deep study are apparent. The most 
 minute particulars are attended to. So far indeed has 
 an observance of effect been carried, that in serious 
 obedience to the ironical precept of the satirist, he 
 wears a large gold ring, which is frequently and osten- 
 tatiously displayed upon his weighty and commanding 
 hand. But it is the voice of this fine speaker, which 
 contains the master-spell of his perfections. I have 
 already mentioned its extraordinary attributes, and 
 indeed it must be actually heard in order to form any 
 appreciation of its effects. 
 
 It must be acknowledged by the admirers of 
 Mr. Bushe that his delivery constitutes his chief merit 
 as an advocate, for his other powers, however consider- 
 able, do not keep pace with it. His style and diction 
 are remarkably perspicuous and clear, but are deficient 
 in depth. He has a remarkable facility in the use of 
 simple and unelaborated expression, and every word
 
 32 SKETCHES OP THE BAR. 
 
 drops of its own accord into that part of the sentence 
 to which it most properly belongs. The most accurate 
 ear conld not easily detect a single harshness, or one 
 inharmonious concurrence of sounds in the course of 
 his longest and least premeditated speech. But at the 
 same time, there is some want of power in his phrase- 
 ology, which is not either very original or picturesque. 
 He indulges little in his imagination, from a dread, 
 perhaps, of falling into those errors to which his 
 countrymen are so prone, by adventuring upon the 
 heights which overhang them. But I am at the same 
 time inclined to suspect that nature has not conferred 
 that faculty in great excellence upon him : an occa- 
 sional flash gleams for a moment over his thoughts, but 
 it is less the lightning of the imagination than the 
 warm exhalation of a serene and meteoric fancy. 
 
 Curran, with all his imperfections, would frequently 
 redeem the obscurity of his language by a single 
 expression, that threw a wide and piercing illumination 
 far around him, and left a track of splendour upon the 
 memory of his audience which was slow to pass away ; 
 but, if Bushe has avoided the defects into which the 
 ambition and enthusiasm of Curran were accustomed 
 to hurry him, he has not approached him in richness 
 of diction, or in that elevation of thought, to which 
 that great speaker had the power of raising his hearers 
 with himself. He was often " led astray," but it was 
 "by light from heaven." On the other hand, the 
 more level and subdued cast of thinking and of phrase 
 which have been adopted by Mr. Bushe, are better 
 suited to cases of daily occurrence ; and I own that I 
 should prefer him for my advocate in any transaction
 
 ME. BUSHE. 33 
 
 which required the art of exposition, and the elucida- 
 ting quality which is so important in the conduct of 
 ordinary affairs. 
 
 He has the power of simplifying in the highest 
 degree. He evolves with a surprising facility the most 
 intricate facts from the most embarrassing complication, 
 and reduces in a moment a chaotic heap of incongruous 
 materials into symmetry and order. In what is called 
 "the narration" in discourses upon rhetorick, his 
 talent is of the first rank. He clarifies and methodises 
 every topic upon which he dwells, and makes the 
 obscurest subject perspicuous aud transparent to the 
 dullest mind. 
 
 The name of Charles Kendal Bushe is not so exten- 
 sively known as that of Plunket beyond the imme- 
 diate field in which his talents have been displpyed. 
 But in Ireland it is almost uniformly associated 
 with that of Plunket, by those who descant upon the 
 comparative merits of their most distinguished advo- 
 cates. The latter is 'better fitted to the transac- 
 tions of ordinary business, and,, in a profession which 
 is generally conversant with the details of common 
 life, exhibits a dexterity and astuteness which render 
 him the most practical, and 'therefore the ablest, 
 man at the Bar. He is always upon a level with his 
 subject, and puts forth his faculties, as if they were as 
 subservient as his limbs to the dominion of his will, in 
 the most precise and minute adaptation to the purposes 
 for which they may happen to be required. The self- 
 control which his mind possesses in so high and rare a 
 degree (and it is more difficult, perhaps, to men of true 
 genius to descend from their native elevation, than to 
 
 VOL. T. P
 
 34 SKETCHES OP THE BAR. 
 
 persons of inferior endowments to raise their faculties 
 to the height of a " great argument") has given him 
 an almost undisputed mastery in the discussion of those 
 topics which constitute the habitual business of the 
 Bar. His hearers are not conscious that he is in reality 
 exercising his great powers while he addresses them in 
 the plainest speech, and apparently in the most homely 
 way. But an acute observer would discover that his 
 reasonings upon the most vulgar topic were the per- 
 fection of art, and that under the guise of simplicity, 
 he concealed the most insidious sophistry, and subtleties 
 the most acute. This seeming ingenuousness is the 
 consummation of forensic ability; and however it is to 
 be estimated in a moral point of view, there can be no 
 doubt that at the Bar it is of incalculable use. Mr. 
 Plunket is the chief sophist, and for that reason the 
 most useful disputant, in his profession; and it must be 
 confessed that the deliberations of a court of justice do 
 not call so much for the display of eloquence as for the 
 ingenious exercise of the powers of disputation. The 
 ingenuity of Bushe is too apparent. His angling is 
 light and delicate ; but the fly is too highly coloured, 
 and the hook glitters in the sun. In the higher depart- 
 ments of oratory he is, perhaps, equal and occasionally 
 superior to Mr. Plunket, from the power and energy of 
 his incomparable manner; but in the discharge of 
 common business in a common way, he holds a second, 
 though not exceedingly distant place. 
 
 His wit is perfectly gentlemanlike and pure. It is 
 not so vehement and sarcastic as that of Plunket, nor 
 does it grope for pearls, like the imagination of Curran, 
 in the midst of foulness and ordure. It is full of
 
 MR. BUSHE. 35. 
 
 smooth mockery and playfulness, and dallies with its 
 victim with a sort of feline elegance and grace. But 
 its gripe is not the less deadly for its procrastination. 
 His wit has more of the qualities of raillery than of 
 imagination. He does not accumulate grotesque images 
 together, or surprise by the distance of the objects 
 between which he discovers an analogy. He has 
 nothing of that spirit of whim which pervaded the 
 oratory of Curran, and made his mind appear at 
 moments like a transmigration of Hogarth. Were a 
 grossly ludicrous 'similitude to offer itself to him, he 
 would at once discard it, as incompatible with that 
 chastised and subjugated ridicule in which alone he- 
 permits himself to indulge. But from this circum- 
 stance he draws a considerable advantage. 
 
 The mirth of Curran was so broad, and the con- 
 vulsion of laughter, which by his personations (for his 
 delivery often bordered upon a theatrical audacity) he 
 never failed, whenever he thought proper, to produce, 
 disqualified his auditors and himself for the more sober 
 investigation of truth. His transitions, therefore, were 
 frequently too abrupt; and with all his mastery over 
 his art, and that Protean quality by which he passed 
 with an astonishing and almost divine facility into 
 every different modification of style and thought, a 
 just gradation from the extravagance of merriment to 
 the depth of pathetic emotion could not always be 
 preserved. Bushe, on the other hand, never finds it 
 difficult to recover himself. Whenever he deviates 
 from that sobriety which becomes the discussions of a 
 court of justice, he retraces his steps and returns to 
 seriousness again, not only with perfect ease, but with- 
 
 D 2
 
 36 SKETCHES OP THE BAR. 
 
 out even leaving a perception of the change. His 
 manner is admirably chequered, and the various topics 
 which he employs, enter into each other by such gentle 
 and delicate degrees, that all the parts of his speech 
 bear a just relation, and are as well proportioned 
 as the several limbs of a fine statue to the general 
 composition of the whole. This unity, which in all 
 the arts rests upon the same sound principtes, is 
 one of the chief merits of Mr. Bushe as a public 
 speaker. 
 
 There is a fine natural vein of generous sentiment 
 running through his oratory. It has often been said 
 that true eloquence could not exist in the absence of 
 good moral qualities. In opposition to this maxim of 
 ethical criticism, the example of some highly gifted but 
 vicious men has been appealed to; but it must be 
 remembered, in the first place, that most of those 
 whose deviations from good conduct are considered 
 to afford a practical refutation of this tenet (which 
 was laid down by the greatest orator of antiquity) 
 were not engaged in the discussion of private concerns, 
 in which, generally speaking, an appeal to moral feeling 
 is of most frequent occurrence ; and in the nest place, 
 there can be little doubt, that although a series of 
 vicious indulgences may have adulterated their natures, 
 they must have been endowed with a large portion of 
 generous instinct. However their moral vision might 
 have been gradually obscured, they could not have 
 been born blind to that sacred light which they knew 
 how to describe so well. 
 
 Nay more : I will venture to affirm, that, in their 
 moments of oratorical enthusiasm, they must have been
 
 ME. BUSHE. 37 
 
 virtuous men. As the best amongst us fall into occa- 
 sional error, so in the spirit of lenity to that human 
 nature to which we ourselves belong, we should cherish 
 the hope that there are few indeed so bad, as not in 
 imagination at least to relapse at intervals to better 
 sentiment and a nobler cast of thought. However the 
 fountains of the heart may have been dried and parched 
 up, enough must at least remain to show that there 
 had been a living spring within them. At all events 
 there can be no eloquence without such an imitation of 
 virtue, as to look as beautiful as the original from 
 which the copy is made. Mr. Bushe, I confidently 
 believe, bears the image stamped upon his'breast, and 
 has only to feel there, in order to give utterance to 
 those sentiments which give a moral dignity and eleva- 
 tion to his speeches. His whole life, at least, is in 
 keeping with his oratory ; and any one who heard him 
 would be justly satisfied that he had been listening to a 
 high-minded, amiable, and honourable man. 
 
 The following extract from one of his best speeches 
 will illustrate the quality to which I have alluded, as 
 well as furnish a favourable example of the general 
 tone of his eloquence. He is describing the forgive- 
 ness of a husband; and, as this article has already 
 exceeded the bounds which I had prescribed to myself. 
 I shall conclude with it. " It requires obdurate and 
 habitual vice and practised depravity to overbear the 
 natural workings of the human heart ; this unfortunate 
 woman had not strength farther to resist. She had 
 been seduced, she had been depraved, her soul was 
 burdened with a guilty secret ; but she was young in 
 crime and true to nature. She could no longer bear
 
 38 SKETCHES OF THE BAR. 
 
 I 
 
 the load of her own conscience she was' overpowered 
 by the generosity of an injured husband, more keen 
 than any reproaches she was incapacitated from any 
 further dissimulation; she flung herself at his feet. 
 ' I am unworthy/ she exclaimed, ' of such tenderness 
 and such goodness it is too late the villain has ruined 
 me and dishonoured you : I am guilty/ Gentlemen, 
 I told you I should confine myself to facts; I have 
 scarcely made an observation. I will not affront my 
 client's case, nor your feelings, nor my own, by 
 common-placing upon the topic of the plaintiff's 
 sufferings. You are Christians, men: your hearts 
 must describe for me ; I cannot I affect not humility 
 in saying that I cannot; no advocate can as I told 
 you, your hearts must be the advocates. Conceive this 
 unhappy nobleman in the bloom of life, surrounded 
 with every comfort, exalted by high honours and dis- 
 tinctions, enjoying great property, the proud proprietor, 
 a few hours before, of what he thought an innocent 
 and an amiable woman, the happy father of children 
 whom he loved, and loved the more as the children of 
 a wife whom he adored precipitated in one hour into 
 an abyss of misery which no language can represent, 
 loathing his rank, despising his wealth, cursing the 
 youth and health that promised nothing but the pro- 
 traction of a wretched existence, looking round upon 
 every worldly object with disgust and despair, and 
 finding in this complicated woe no principle of consola- 
 tion, except the consciousness of- not having deserved 
 it. Smote to the earth, this unhappy man forgot not 
 his character : he raised the guilty and lost penitent 
 from his feet ; he left her punishment to her conscience
 
 MR. BUSHE. 39 
 
 and to Heaven ; her pardon he reserved to himself : 
 the tenderness and generosity of his nature prompted 
 him to instant mercy he forgave her he prayed to 
 God to forgive her; he told her that she should be 
 restored to the protection of her father, that until then 
 her secret should be preserved and her feelings re- 
 spected, and that her fall from honour should be as 
 easy as it might ; but there was a forgiveness for which 
 she supplicated, and which he sternly refused : he 
 refused that forgiveness which implies the meanness of 
 the person who dispenses it, and which renders the 
 clemency valueless because it makes the man despicable : 
 he refused to take back to his arms the tainted and 
 faithless woman who had betrayed him : he refused to 
 expose himself to the scorn of the world and his own 
 contempt: he submitted to misery; he could not 
 brook dishonour." 
 
 NOTE. Since the above article was written, Mr. 
 Bushe has been raised to the office of Chief Justice of 
 the King's Bench, in consequence of the resignation 
 of Mr. Downes, who has at last proved himself pos- 
 sessed of the Christian virtue which Mr. Bushe used 
 to say was the only one he wanted.* 
 
 * Mr. Bushe retired from the Chief-Justiceship in 1842, having 
 filled that high office with great ability and unblemished honour for 
 twenty years. He survived his retirement but a short time, dying in 
 July, 1843. 
 
 Of the conversational attractions of this accomplished man, Lord Broug- 
 liam remarks : " If we followed him into the circle of private society, the 
 gratification was exceedingly great. Nothing, indeed, could be more delight- 
 ful 5 for his conversation had no effort, not the least attempt at display,
 
 40 SKETCHES OF THE BAE. 
 
 and the few moments he spoke at a t'me, all persons wished to have 
 been indefinitely prolonged. The power of narrative which so greatly 
 distinguished him at the bar, was marvellously shown in his familiar 
 conversation, but the shortness, the condensation, formed perhaps the 
 feature that took most hold of the hearer's memory."
 
 41 
 
 MR. S A U B, I N. 
 [FEBRUARY, 1823.] 
 
 " But where's La- Writ ? 
 Where's your sufficient lawyer." 
 
 The Little French Lawyer. 
 
 BEAUMONT & FLETCHER. 
 
 MR. SAURIN is the son of a Presbyterian clergyman, 
 who followed the duties of his pious but humble calling 
 in the no"th of Ireland. His grandfather was a French 
 Protestant, who, after the relocation of the edict of 
 Nantz, sought an asylum in Iceland. He is said to 
 have begged to the family of the celebrated preacher 
 of his name. Mr. Saurin was educated in the Univer- 
 sity of DubUn. It does not appear that he was dis- 
 tinguished by any signal proficiency, either in literature 
 or in science. A collegiate reputation is not a necessary 
 precursor to professional success. He was called to the 
 Bar in the year 1780. His progress was slow, and for 
 thirteen years he remained almost unknown. Conscious 
 of his secret merits, he was not disheartened, and em- 
 ployed that interval in accumulating the stores of legal 
 knowledge. He had few qualities, indeed, which were 
 calculated to bring him into instantaneous notice. He
 
 42 SKETCHES OP THE BAR. 
 
 wrought his way with an obscure diligence, and, indeed, 
 it was necessary that he should attain the light by a 
 long process of exfoliation. To this day, there is too 
 frequent an exhibition of boisterous ability at the Irish 
 Bar; but in the olden time, the qualifications of a 
 lawyer were measured in a great degree by his powers 
 of vociferation. Mr. Saurin was imperfectly versed in 
 the stentorian logic which prevailed in the roar of Irish 
 Nisi Prius ; neither had he the matchless imperturba- 
 bility of front, to which the late Lord Clonmel was 
 indebted for his brazen coronet; but his substantial 
 deserts were sure to appear at last. 
 
 If he could not fly, he had the strength and the 
 tenacity requisite to climb. His rivals were engaged in 
 the pursuit of political distinction and oratorical renown; 
 all his labours, as well as his predilections, were confined 
 to his profession. While others were indulging in 
 legislative meditations, he was buried in the common 
 law. An acute observer would have seen in his unos- 
 tentatious assiduity the omen of a tardy but secure 
 success. A splendid intellect will, in all likelihood, 
 ascend to permanent eminence, but the odds of good 
 fortune are in favour of the less conspicuous faculties. 
 Plunket and Saurin have risen to an equality in pro- 
 fessional distinction ; but when they both commenced 
 their career, upon a sober calculation, the chances 
 would have been found, I think, upon the side of the 
 latter. Like the slow camel and the Arabian courser, 
 both may befitted to the desert; and, although the 
 more aspiring and fleeter spirit may traverse in a shorter 
 period the waste of hardships and discouragement which 
 lies between it and success, while, with all its swiftness 
 and alacrity, it requires an occasional relief from some
 
 MR. SAURIN. 43 
 
 external source of refreshment and of hope : yet, bear- 
 ing its restoratives in itself, the more slow and persever- 
 ing mind pursues its progress with an unabated con- 
 stancy, and often leaves its more rapid but less enduring 
 competitor drpoping far behind, and exhausted by the 
 labours of its desolate and arid course. 
 
 After many years, of disappointment perhaps, but not 
 of despondency, Mr. Saurin's name began to be whis- 
 pered in the Hall. The little business with which he 
 had been intrusted was discharged with such efficiency, 
 that he gradually acquired a reputation for practical 
 utility among the attorneys of the north. Many traits 
 of the Scotch character are observable in the Presby- 
 terian colony which was established in that part of Ire- 
 land; and their mutuality of support is among the 
 honourable peculiarities which mark their origin from 
 that patriotic and self-sustaining people. They may be 
 said to advance under a testudo. It is remarked at the 
 Irish Bar, that a northern attorney seldom employs a 
 southern advocate. Mr. Saurin, though descended 
 from a Gallic progenitor, had, I believe, some auspicious 
 mixture of Caledonian blood (with a French face, he 
 has a good deal of the Scotchman in his character) ; 
 and that circumstance, together with the locality of his 
 birth, gave him claims to the patronage of the attorneys 
 of his circuit. Those arbiters of fortune recognised his 
 merits. It was soon perceived by these sagacious per- 
 sons, that a good argument is more valuable than a 
 flower of speech, and that the lawyer who nonsuits the 
 plaintiff is as efficacious as the advocate who draws tears 
 from the jury. Mr. Saurin's habits of despatch were 
 also a signal recommendation. To this day, under the 
 pressure of various occupations, he is distinguished for
 
 44 SKETCHES OF THE BAR. 
 
 a regularity and promptitude, which are not often to be 
 found among the attributes of the leading members of 
 the Irish Bar. Most, indeed, of the more eminent 
 advocates are " illustrious diners-out/' It is provoking 
 to see the fortunes of men hanging in miserable sus- 
 pense upon their convivial procrastinations. Mr. Saurin 
 still presents an exemplary contrast to these dilatory 
 habits; and it is greatly creditable to him that he 
 should persevere, from a sense of duty, in a practice 
 which was originally adopted as a means of success. 
 
 The first occasion on which he appears to have grown 
 into general notice, was afforded at a contested election. 
 At that period, which was about sixteen years after he 
 had been called to the Bar, a lawyer at an Irish election 
 was almost a gladiator by profession ; his pistols were 
 the chief implements of reasoning to which he thought 
 it necessaiy to resort. " Ratio ultima," the motto which 
 the great Frederick caused to be engraven upon his 
 cannon, would not have been an inappropriate desig- 
 nation of the conclusive arguments which were then so 
 much in use in Hibernian dialectics. I am not aware, 
 that Mr. Saurin was ever accounted an eminent pro- 
 fessor in this school of logic : upon this occasion, how- 
 ever, he distinguished himself by qualifications very 
 distinct from the barbarous accomplishments which 
 bring intellect and dulness to such a disastrous level. 
 His extensive and applicable knowledge, his dispas- 
 sionate perspicuity, and minute precision, won him a 
 concurrence of applause. He became known upon his 
 circuit, and his fame soon after extended itself to the 
 metropolis. His progress was as swiftly accelerated as 
 it had previously been slow : every occasion on which 
 he was employed furnished a new vent to his accumu-
 
 MR. SAUEIN. 45 
 
 lated information. He was at length fairly launched; 
 and when once detached from the heavy incumbrances 
 in which he had been involved; he made a rapid and 
 conspicuous way; and it was soon perceived that he 
 could carry more sail than gilded galliots which had 
 started upon the full flood of popularity before him. 
 He soon passed them by, and rode at last in that 
 security which most of them were never destined to 
 attain. 
 
 In the year 1798, Mr. Saurin was at the head of his 
 profession, and was not only eminent for his talents, but 
 added to their influence the weight of a high moral esti- 
 mation. The political disasters of the country furnished 
 evidence of the high respect in which he was held by 
 the members of his own body. The rebellion broke 
 out, and the genius of loyalty martialized the various 
 classes of the community. The good citizens of Dublin 
 were submitted to a somewhat fantastic metamorphosis : 
 the Gilpins of the metropolis, to the delighted wonder 
 of their wives and daughters, were travestied into scar- 
 let, and strutted, in grim importance and ferocious 
 security, in the uneasy accoutrements of a bloodless 
 warfare. The love of glory became contagious, and the 
 attorneys, solicitors, and six-clerks, felt the intense 
 novelty of its charms. 
 
 The Bar could not fail to participate in the ecstasy of 
 patriotism : the boast of Cicero became inverted in this 
 access of forensic soldiership, and every Drances, " loud 
 in debate and bold in peaceful council," was suddenly 
 transformed into a warrior. The "toga'd counsel" 
 exhibited a spectacle at once ludicrous and lamentable ; 
 Justice was stripped of her august ceremony and her 
 reverend forms, and joining in this grand political
 
 46 SKETCHES OF THE BAR. 
 
 masquerade, attired herself in the garb, and feebly imi- 
 tated the aspect, of Bellona. The ordinary business of 
 the courts of law was discharged by barristers in regi- 
 mentals ; the plume nodded over the green spectacle 
 the bag was transmuted into the cartridge-pouch the 
 flowing and full-bottomed wig was exchanged for the 
 casque ; the chest, which years of study had bent into 
 a professional stoop, was straightened in a stiff imprison- 
 ment of red; the flexible neck, which had been 
 stretched in the distension of vituperative harangue, 
 was enclosed in a high and rigid collar. The disputa- 
 tious and dingy features of every minute and withered 
 sophist were swollen into an unnatural bigness and bur- 
 liness of look ; the strut of the mercenary Hessian,* 
 who realized the beau ideal of martial ferocity, was 
 mimicked in the slouching gait which had been acquired 
 by years of unoccupied perambulation in the Hall ; 
 limbs, habituated to yielding silk, were locked in buff; 
 the reveille superseded the shrill voice of the crier 
 the disquisitions of pleaders were " horribly stuffed with 
 epithets of war ; " the bayonet lay beside the pen, and 
 the musquet was collateral to the brief. 
 
 Yet, with all this innovation upon their ordinary 
 habits, the Bar could not pass all at once into a total 
 desuetude of their more natural tendencies, and exhibited 
 a relapse into their professional predilections in the 
 choice of their leader. The athletic nobleness of figure 
 for which Mr. Magrath, for instance, is conspicuous, did 
 not obtain their suffrages; a grenadier proportion of 
 fame, and a physical pre-eminence of height, were not 
 
 * The Hessians were a body of German troops who served in Ireland 
 in 1798 ; the Government, no doubt, placed greater confidence in these 
 condotlieri than in the native regiments.
 
 MB. SAUKIN. 47 
 
 the merits which decided their preference ; they chose 
 Mr. Saurin for his intellectual stature ; and in selecting 
 a gentleman, in whom I am at a loss to discover one 
 glance of the " coup-d'ceil militaire" and whose aspect 
 is among the most unsoldierlike I have ever witnessed, 
 they offered him an honourable testimony of the great 
 esteem in which he was held by his profession. He 
 was thus, in some degree, recognised as the head of the 
 body to which he belonged. His conduct, as chief of 
 the lawyer's corps, was patriotic and discreet. He 
 manifested none of those religious antipathies by which 
 he has been since unhappily distinguished ; he had no 
 share, either in the infliction of, or the equivalent con- 
 nivance at, that system of inquisitorial excruciation, 
 which, on whosoever head the guilt ought to lie, did 
 unquestionably exist.* His hands do not smell of 
 blood; and though a series of unhappy incidents has 
 since thrown him into the arms of the Orange faction, 
 to which he has been rather driven by the rash rancour 
 of his antagonists, than allured tlirough the genuine 
 tendencies of his nature, in that period of civil commo- 
 tion he discountenanced the excesses of the party who 
 now claim him as their own. 
 
 "With all his present Toryism, he appears to have 
 been then a Whig; and the republican tinge of his 
 opinions was brought out in the great event which suc- 
 ceeded the rebellion, and to which the Government was 
 aware that it would inevitably lead. If they did not 
 kindle, they allowed the fire to rage on; and they 
 thought, and perhaps with justice, that it would furnish 
 a lurid light by which the rents and chasms in the 
 
 * Mr. Saurin, during the Rebellion, has been seen to strike a drummer 
 of his corps for wearing an orange cockade. A.
 
 48 SKETCHES OF THE BAR. 
 
 ruinous and ill-constructed fabric of the Irish Legis- 
 lature would be more widely exposed. To repc ; r such 
 a crazy and rotten building, many think, was impos- 
 sible. It was necessary that it should be thrown down, 
 but the name of Country (and there is a charm even 
 in a name) has been buried in the fall. 
 
 The union w?s proposed, and Mr. Saurin threw him- 
 self into an indignant opposition to the measure, which 
 he considered fatal to Ireland. He called the Bar 
 together; and upon his motion, a resolution was passed 
 by a great majority, protesting against the merging of 
 the country in the impeiirl amalgamation. He was 
 elected a member of the House of Commons, and his 
 appearance in that profligate convention WPS h?iled by 
 Mv. Grattan, who set the highest value upon his acces- 
 cession to the national cause.* Of eloquence there 
 was already a redundant supply. Genius abounded in 
 the ranks of the patriots they were ardent, devoted, 
 and inspired. Mr. Saurin reinforced them with his 
 more Spartan qualities. Grave and sincere, regarded 
 as a great constitutional lawyer the peculiar repre- 
 sentative of his own profession a true, but unimpas- 
 
 * Mr. Saurin sat for the borough of Bless>ngton, one of the many 
 Irish Gattons extinguished by the Union, and spoke ttvice in opposition to 
 that mcpsure, on the debate on the 6th Feb. 1800, and more at large and 
 effectively on the 21 st of the same month. The former speech contains 
 evidence of the high place he then occupied at the bar. " It should be 
 remembered," he said, "that the profession of which I am a member 
 has expressed itself decidedly against the measure, and your incompetency 
 to entertain it. From the rank I hold in that profession, many of my 
 friends thought it might be conducive to the public cause that I should 
 appear in this house to give the proposition of a union a decided nega- 
 tive." The point Mr. Saurin chiefly relied en was, that the question was 
 not one which the House of Commons was competent to decide, without 
 a previous express appeal to the constituencies.
 
 ME. SAUKIX. 49 
 
 sioned lover of his country, and as likely to consult her 
 permanent interests as to cherish a romantic attachment 
 to her dignity he rose in the House of Commons, 
 attended with a great concurrence of impressive cir- 
 cumstance. He addressed himself to great principles, 
 and took his ground upon the broad foundations of 
 legislative right. His more splendid allies rushed 
 among the ranks of their adversaries, and dealt their 
 sweeping invective about them; while Saurin, in an 
 iron and somewhat rusty armour, and wielding more 
 massive and ponderous weapons, stood like a sturdy 
 sentinel before the gates of the constitution. Simple and 
 elementary positions were enforced by him with a. 
 strenuous conviction of their truth. He denied the 
 right of the legislature to alienate its sacred trust. He 
 insisted that it would amount to a forfeiture of that 
 estate which was derived from, and held under, the 
 people in whom the reversion must perpetually remain ; 
 that they were bound to consult the will of the majority 
 of the nation, and that the will of that majority was 
 the foundation of all law. Generous sentiments, uttered 
 with honest fervency, are important constituents of 
 eloquence; and Mr. Saurin acquired the fame of a 
 distinguished speaker. 
 
 His language was not flowing or abundant there 
 was no soaring in his thought, nor majesty in his elo- 
 cution ; but he was clear and manly : there was a plain 
 vigour about him. Thought started through his diction; 
 it wanted roundness and colour, but it was muscular 
 and strong. It was not " pinguitudine nitescens." If 
 it were deficient in bloom and fulness, it had not a 
 greasy and plethoric gloss ; it derived advantages from 
 the absence of decoration, for its nakedness became the 
 
 VOL. I. E
 
 50 SKETCHES OF THE BAR. 
 
 simplicity of primitive truth. Mr. Saurin obtained a 
 well-merited popularity. His efforts were strenuous 
 and unremitted; but what could they avail? The 
 minister had an easy task to perform : there was, at 
 first, a show of coyness in the prostitute venality of the 
 majority of the House ; it only required an increased 
 ardour of solicitation, and a more fervent pressure of 
 the " itching palm/' 
 
 No man understood the arts of parliamentary seduc- 
 tion better than Lord Castlereagh. He succeeded to 
 the full extent of his undertaking, and raised himself 
 to the highest point of ambition to which a subject can 
 aspire. But those who had listened to his blandish- 
 ments, found, in the emptiness of title, and in the 
 baseness of pecuniary reward, an inadequate compen- 
 sation for the loss of personal consequence which they 
 eventually sustained. In place of the reciprocal advan- 
 tages which they might have imparted and received, by 
 spending their fortunes in the metropolis of their own 
 country, such among them as are now exported in the 
 capacity of representatives from Ireland are lost in 
 utter insignificance. Instead of occupying the magni- 
 ficent mansions which are now falling into decay, they 
 are domiciliated in second stories of the lanes and alleys 
 in the vicinity of St. Stephen's. They may be seen 
 every evening at Bellamy's, digesting their solitary 
 meal, until " the whipper-in" has aroused them to the 
 only purpose for which their existence is recognized; 
 or in the House itself, verifying the prophetic description 
 of Curran, by " sleeping in their collars under the 
 manger of the British minister." 
 
 The case is still worse with the anomalous nobility of 
 the Irish peer. There is a sorry mockery in the title,
 
 MR. SAURIN. 51 
 
 which is almost a badge, as it is a product, of his dis- 
 grace. He bears it as the snail does the painted shell 
 elaborated from its slime. His family are scarcely 
 admitted among the aristocracy, and, when admitted, it 
 is only to be scorned. It requires the nicest exercise 
 of subtle stratagem, and the suppression of every 
 feeling of pride, on the part of an Irish lady, to effect 
 her way into the great patrician coteries. The scene 
 which Miss Edgeworth has so admirably described at 
 the saloon of the Opera-house, in which the Irish 
 countess solicits the haughty recognition of the English 
 duchess, is of nightly recurrence. Even great talents 
 are not exempted from this spirit of national depre- 
 ciation. Mr. Grattan himself never enjoyed the full 
 dignity which ought, in every country, to have been an 
 appanage to his genius. As to Lord Clare, he died of 
 a broken heart. The Duke of Bedford crushed the 
 plebeian peer with a single tread. What, then, must 
 be the case with the inferior class of Irish senators; 
 and how must they repine at the suicidal act with 
 which, in their madness, they were tempted to annihi- 
 late their existence ! 
 
 I have dwelt upon the results of the Union, as it 
 affected individual importance, because Mr. Saurin 
 appears to have been sensible of them, and to have 
 acted upon that sense. He has never since that event 
 set his foot upon the English shore. He was well aware 
 that he should disappear in the modern Babylon ; and 
 with the worldly sagacity by which he is characterized, 
 when his country lost her national importance, he pre- 
 ferred to the lacqueying of the English aristocracy the 
 enjoyment of such provincial influence as may be still 
 obtained in Ireland. Mr. Plunket resigned the situation 
 
 E 2
 
 52 SKETCHES OF THE BAR. 
 
 of Attorney-General in 1807. It was offered to Mr. 
 Saurin, who accepted it. This office is, perhaps, the 
 most powerful in Ireland : it is attended with great 
 patronage, emolument, and authority. The Attorney- 
 General appoints the judges of the land, and nominates 
 to those multitudinous places with which the Govern- 
 ment has succeeded in subduing the naturally demo- 
 cratic tendencies of the Bar. Every measure in any 
 way connected with the administration of justice ori- 
 ginates with him. In England, the Attorney- General 
 is consulted upon the law. In Ireland, he is almost 
 the law itself: he not only approves, but he directs. 
 The personal character of Mr. Saurin gave him an 
 additional sway. He gained a great individual ascend- 
 ancy over the mind of the Lord Chancellor [Lord Man- 
 ners] . In the Castle Cabinet, he was almost supreme ; 
 and his authority was the more readily submitted to, 
 as it was exercised without being displayed. He was 
 speedily furnished with much melancholy occasion to 
 put his power into action. 
 
 The Catholic Board assumed a burlesque attitude 
 of defiance ; the press became every day more violent ; 
 the newspapers were tissues of libels, in the legal sense 
 of the word, for they were envenomed with the most 
 deleterious truth. Prosecutions were instituted and 
 conducted by Mr. Saurin: an ebullition of popular 
 resentment was the result, and reciprocal animosity 
 was engendered out of mutual recrimination. The 
 orators were furious upon one hand, and Mr. Saurin 
 became enraged upon the other. His real character 
 was disclosed in the collision. He was abused, I admit, 
 and vilified. The foulest accusations were emptied, 
 from their aerial abodes, by pamphleteers, upon his
 
 MR. SAURIN. 53 
 
 head. The authors of the garret discharged their 
 vituperations upon him. It was natural that he should 
 get into bad odour: but wedded as he was to the 
 public interests, he should have borne these aspersions 
 of the popular anger with a more Socratic temper; 
 unhappily, however, he was infected by this shrewish 
 spirit, and took to scolding. In his public speeches 
 a weak virulence and spite were manifested, which, in 
 such a man, was deeply to be deplored. Much of the 
 blame ought, perhaps, to attach to those who baited 
 him into fury; and it is not greatly to be regretted 
 that many of them were gored and tossed in this 
 ferocious contest. The original charges brought against 
 him were unjust; but the vehemence with which they 
 were retorted, as well as repelled, divested them, in 
 some degree, of their calumnious quality, and ex- 
 emplified their truth. Mr. Saurin should have recol- 
 lected, that he had at one time given utterance to 
 language nearly as intemperate himself, and had laid 
 down the same principles with a view to a distinct 
 application. He had harangued upon the will of the 
 majority, and he forgot that it was constituted by the 
 Papists. On a sudden he was converted, from a pre- 
 vious neutrality, into the most violent opponent of 
 Roman Catholic emancipation. 
 
 I entertain little doubt that his hostility was fully as 
 personal as it was constitutional. There appears to be 
 a great inconsistency between his horror of the Union 
 and of the Catholics. They are as seven to one in the 
 immense population of Ireland; and when they are 
 debased by political disqualification, it can only be 
 justified upon the ground that it promotes the interests
 
 54 SKETCHES OF THE BAR. 
 
 of the Empire. But Mr. Saurin discarded the idea of 
 making a sacrifice of Ireland to imperial considerations, 
 when the benefits of the Union were pointed out. 
 I fear, also, that he wants magnanimity, and that his 
 antipathies are influenced, in part, by his domestic 
 recollections. His ancestors were persecuted in France, 
 but his gratitude to the country in which they found 
 a refuge, should have suppressed any inclination to 
 retaliate upon the religion of the majority of its people. 
 I shall not expatiate upon the various incidents which 
 distinguished this period of forensic turmoil. Suffice 
 it to say, that Mr. Saurin obtained verdicts of con- 
 demnation.* But his high character and his peace of 
 mind were affected by his ignominious success. He 
 grew into an object of national distaste. His own 
 personal dispositions, which are naturally kind and 
 good, were materially deteriorated. Every man at the 
 Bar, with liberal opinions on the Catholic question, was 
 regarded by him with dislike. A single popular senti- 
 ment was a disqualification for place. 
 
 But let me turn from the less favourable points of 
 his character. This censure should be qualified by 
 large commendation. His patronage was confined to 
 his party, but it was honourably exercised. Those 
 whom he advanced were able and honest men. The 
 sources of justice were never vitiated by any unworthy 
 preferences upon his part. Neither did he lavish 
 emolument on his own family. In the list of pensioners 
 the name of Saurin does not often bear attestation to 
 his power. I should add to his other merits, his 
 
 * See the paper entitled " Catholic Leaden and Associations."
 
 MR. SAURIN. 55 
 
 unaffected modesty. He has -always been easy, 
 accessible, and simple. He had none of the " morgue 
 aristocratique," nor the least touch of official super- 
 ciliousness on his brow. 
 
 Mr. Saurin, as Attorney- General, may be said to 
 have governed Ireland for fifteen years; but, at the 
 moment when he seemed to have taken the firmest 
 stand upon the height of his authority, he was pre- 
 cipitated to the ground. The Grenvilles joined the 
 minister. It was stipulated that Mr. Plunket should be 
 restored to his former office. Mr. Saurin was offered 
 the place of Chief Justice of the King's Bench, which, 
 in a fit of splenetic vexation, he had the folly to refuse. 
 The new local government did not give him a moment 
 for repentance, and he was thrown at once from the 
 summit of his power. There was not a single inter- 
 vening circumstance to break his precipitous descent, 
 and he was stunned, if not shattered, in the fall. He 
 might, however, have expected it; he had no political 
 connexions to sustain him. He is married, indeed, to 
 a sister of the Marquis of Thomond ; but that alliance 
 was a feeble obstacle to the movement of a great party. 
 His official friends immolated him to exigency; but 
 they would have sacrificed him to convenience. The 
 only man in power, perhaps, who personally lamented 
 his ill-usage, was Lord Manners : and even his Lord- 
 ship was aware, for six months before, of the intended 
 change, and never disclosed it to him in their diurnal 
 walks to the Hall of the Four Courts. This suppres- 
 sion Mr. Saurin afterwards resented; but, upon a 
 declaration from his friend that he was influenced by 
 a regard for his feelings, they were reconciled. He
 
 56 SKETCHES OF THE BAR. 
 
 did not choose to warn him, at the banquet, of the 
 sword that he saw suspended over his head. 
 
 He is now plain Mr. Saurin again, and he bears this 
 reverse with a great deal of apparent, and some real 
 fortitude.* When he was first deprived of his office, 
 I watched him in the Hall. The public eye was 
 upon him ; and the consciousness of general observation 
 in calamity inflicts peculiar pain. The joyous alacrity 
 of Plunket was less a matter of comment than the 
 resigned demeanour of his fallen rival. Richard was 
 as much gazed at as Bolingbroke. It was said by most 
 of those who saw him, that he looked as cheerful as 
 ever. In fact, he looked more cheerful, and that 
 appeared to me to give evidence of the constraint which 
 he put upon himself. There was a forced hilarity about 
 him he wore an alertness and vivacity, which were 
 not made for his temperament; his genuine smile is 
 flexible and easy; but upon this occasion it lingered 
 with a mechanical procrastination upon the lips, which 
 showed that it did not take its origin at the heart. 
 There was also too ready a proffer of the hand to his 
 old friends, who gave him a warm but a silent squeeze. 
 I thought him a subject for study, and followed him 
 into the Court of Chancery. He discharged his busi- 
 ness with more than his accustomed diligence and skill ; 
 but when his part was done, and he bent his head 
 
 * Mr. Saurin never held office again. He died in 1839. The long 
 tenure by Mr. Saurin and Mr. Bushe of the principal law-offices under 
 the Crown in Ireland is a remarkable fact in the history of the Bar. 
 The former was Attorney-General for fifteen years ; the latter Solicitor 
 for nearly seventeen. In the same number of years since 1822 the same 
 offices changed hands nine or ten times.
 
 MR. SAURIN. 57 
 
 over a huge brief, the pages of which he seemed to 
 turn without a consciousness of their contents, I have 
 heard him heave at intervals a low sigh. When he 
 returned again to the Hall, I have observed him in 
 a moment of professional leisure while he was busied 
 with his own solitary thoughts, and I could perceive 
 a gradual languor stealing over the melancholy mirth 
 which he had been personating before. His figure, 
 too, was bent and depressed, as he walked back to the 
 Court of Chancery; and before he passed through the 
 green curtains winch divide it from the Hall, I have 
 seen him pause for an instant, and throw a look at the 
 King's Bench. It was momentary, but too full of 
 expression to be casual, and seemed to unite in its 
 despondency a deep sense of the wrong which he had 
 sustained from his friends, and the more painful injury 
 which he had inflicted upon himself. 
 
 If Rembrandt were living in our times, he should 
 paint a portrait of Saurin : his countenance and deport- 
 ment would afford an appropriate subject to the 
 shadowy pencil of that great artist. There should be 
 no gradual melting of colours into each other there 
 should be no softness of touch, and no nice variety of 
 hue ; there should be no sky no flowers no drapery 
 no marble: but a grave and sober-minded man 
 should stand upon the canvass, with the greater pro- 
 portion of his figure in opacity and shadow, and with 
 a strong line of light breaking through a monastic 
 window upon his corrugated brow. His countenance 
 is less serene than tranquil; it has much deliberate 
 consideration, but little depth or wisdom; its whole 
 expression is peculiarly quiet and subdued.
 
 58 SKETCHES OP THE BAR. 
 
 His eye is black and wily, and glitters under the 
 mass of a rugged and shaggy eye-brow. There is a 
 certain sweetness in its glance, somewhat at variance 
 with the general indications of character which are 
 conveyed in his look. His forehead is thoughtful, but 
 neither bold nor lofty. It is furrowed by long study 
 and recent care. There is a want of intellectual eleva- 
 tion in his aspect, but he has a cautious shrewdness and 
 a discriminating perspicacity. With much affability 
 and good-nature about the mouth, in the play of its 
 minuter expression, a sedate and permanent vindictive- 
 ness may readily be found. His features are broad 
 and deeply founded, but they are not blunt ; without 
 being destitute of proportion, they are not finished 
 with delicacy or point. His dress is like his manners, 
 perfectly plain, and remarkable for its neat propriety. 
 He is wholly free from vulgarity, and quite denuded of 
 accomplishment. He is of the middle size, and his 
 frame, like his mind, is compact and well knit together. 
 There is an intimation of slowness and suspicion in his 
 movements, and the spirit of caution seems to regulate 
 his gait. He has nothing of the Catilinarian walk, and 
 it might be readily conjectured that he was not destined 
 for a conspirator.* His whole demeanour bespeaks 
 neither dignity nor meanness. There is no fraud about 
 him ; but there is a disguise of his emotions which bor- 
 ders upon guile. His passions are violent, and are 
 rather covered than suppressed : they have little effect 
 upon his exterior the iron stove scarcely glows with 
 the intensity of its internal fire. 
 
 He looks altogether a worldly and sagacious man 
 
 * " Citns modo, modo tardas inccssus."
 
 MR. SAUBIN. 59 
 
 sly, cunning, and considerate not ungenerous, but by 
 no means exalted with some sentiment, and no sensi- 
 bility: kind in his impulses, and warped by involuntary 
 prejudice : gifted with the power of dissembling his 
 own feelings, rather than of assuming the character of 
 other men : more acute than comprehensive, and subtle 
 than refined : a man of point and of detail : no adven- 
 turer, either in conduct or speculation : a lover of 
 usage, and an enemy to innovation : perfectly simple and 
 unaffected : one who can bear adversity well and pro- 
 sperity still better : a little downcast in ill-fortune, and 
 not at all supercilious in success : something of a 
 republican by nature, but fashioned by circumstances 
 into a tory: moral, but not pious: decent, but not 
 devout : honourable, bat not chivalrous : affectionate, 
 but not tender : a man who could go far to serve a 
 friend, and a good way to hurt a foe : and, take him 
 for all in all, an useful and estimable member of 
 society. 
 
 I have mentioned his French origin, and it is legibly 
 expressed in his lineaments and hue. In other coun- 
 tries, one national physiognomy prevails through the 
 mass of the people. In every district, and in every 
 class, we meet with a single character of face. But in 
 Ireland, the imperfect grafting of colonization is easily 
 perceived, in the great variety of countenance which is 
 everywhere to be found: the notches are easily dis- 
 cerned upon the original stock. The Dane of Kildare 
 is known by his erect form, his sanded complexion, his 
 blue and independent eye, and the fairness of his rich 
 and flowing hair. The Spaniard in the west, shows 
 among the dominions of Mr. Martin, his swarthy
 
 60 SKETCHES OF THE BAR. 
 
 features and his black Andalusian eye.* A Presby- 
 terian church in the north exhibits a quadrangular 
 breadth of jaw-bone, and a shrewd sagacity of look in 
 its calculating and moral congregation, which the best 
 Baillie in Glasgow would not disown. Upon the 
 southern mountain and in the morass, the wild and 
 haggard face of the aboriginal Irishman is thrust upon 
 the traveller, through the aperture in his habitation of 
 mud which pays the double debt of a chimney and a 
 door. His red aud strongly curled hair, his angry and 
 courageous eye, his short and blunted features, thrown 
 at hazard into his countenance, and that fantastic com- 
 pound of intrepidity and cunning, of daring and of 
 treachery, of generosity and of falsehood, of fierceness 
 and of humour, of absurdity and genius, which is 
 conveyed in his expression, is not inappropriately dis- 
 covered in the midst of crags and bogs, and through 
 the medium of smoke. When he descends into the 
 city, this barbarian of art (for he has been made so by 
 the landlord and the law nature never intended him 
 to be so) presents a singular contrast to the high fore- 
 head, the regular features, and the pure complexion of 
 the English settler. 
 
 * Connemara, an estate of an extent almost to justify the name of a 
 little kingdom. The reader will recollect Moore's happy parody of 
 " Pone me pigris," &c. 
 
 " Place me midst CXRourkes, (^Tooles, 
 
 The ragged royal house of Tara ; 
 Place me where Dick Martin rules 
 
 The houseless wilds of Connemara," &c. 
 
 But like greater empires, that of the Martins has crumbled away since 
 Moore sang and Sheil wrote. It has lately been put up to auction, and 
 will probably be partitioned like Poland.
 
 MR. SAURIN. 61 
 
 To revert to Mr. Saurin, (from whom I ought not, 
 perhaps, to have deviated so far), there is still greater 
 distinctness, as should be the case, from their proximity 
 to their source, in the descendants from the French 
 Protestants who obtained an asylum in Ireland. The 
 Huguenot is stamped upon them ; I can read in their 
 faces not only the relics of their country, but of their 
 religion. They are not only Frenchmen in colour, but 
 Calvinists in expression. They are serious, grave, and 
 almost sombre, and have even a shade of fanaticism 
 diffused over the worldliness by which they are practi- 
 cally characterised. Mr. Saurin is no fanatic ; on the 
 contrary, I believe that his only test of the true religion, 
 is the law of the land. He does not belong to the 
 " Saint party," nor is he known by the sanctimonious 
 avidity which that pious and rapacious body is distin- 
 guished by at the Irish Bar. Still there is a touch of 
 John Calvin upon him, and he looks the fac-simile of 
 an old Protestant professor of logic whom I remember 
 to have seen in one of the colleges at Nismes. 
 
 I have enlarged upon the figure and aspect of this 
 eminent barrister, because they intimate much of his 
 mind. In his capacity as an advocate in a court of 
 equity, he deserves great encomium. He is not a 
 great case-lawyer. He is not like Sergeant Lefroy, an 
 ambulatory index of discordant names; he is stored 
 with knowledge ; principle is not merely deposited in 
 his memory, but inlaid and tesselated in his mind ; it 
 enters into his habitual thinking. No man is better 
 versed in the art of putting facts : he brings with a 
 peculiar felicity and skill the favourable parts of his 
 client's case into prominence, and shews still greater
 
 62 SKETCHES OF THE BAH. 
 
 acuteness in suppressing or glossing over whatever may 
 be prejudicial to his interests. He invests the most 
 hopeless, and I will even add, the most dishonest cause, 
 with a most deceitful plausibility ; and the total absence 
 of all effort, and the ease and apparent sincerity of his 
 manner, give him at times a superiority even to Plunkct 
 himself, who, by the energy into which he is hurried at 
 moments by his more ardent and eloquent temperament, 
 creates a suspicion that it must be a bad cause which 
 requires so much display of power. In hearing the 
 latter, you are perpetually thinking of him and his 
 faculties ; in hearing Saurin, you remember nothing but 
 the cause he disappears in the facts. 
 
 Saurin also shows singular tact in the management 
 of the Court. The Lord Chancellor is actually bewil- 
 dered by Plunket; it is from his Lordship's premises 
 that he argues against him ; he entangles him in a net 
 of sophistry wrought out of his own suggestion. This 
 is not very agreeable to human vanity, and Chancellors 
 are men. Saurin, on the other hand, accommodates 
 himself to every view of the Court. He gently and 
 insensibly conducts his Lordship to a conclusion 
 Plunket precipitates him into it at once. But Lord 
 Manners struggles hard upon the brink, and often 
 escapes from his grasp. In this facility of adaptation 
 to the previous opinions and character of the judge 
 whom he addresses, I consider Saurin as perhaps the 
 most useful advocate in the Court of Chancery ; at the 
 same time, in reach of thought, variety of attribute, 
 versatility of resource, and power of diction, he is far 
 inferior to his distinguished successor in office. But 
 Plunket is a senator and a statesman, and Saurin is a
 
 MR. 6AUEIN. 63 
 
 lawyer not a mere one indeed ; but the legal faculty 
 is greatly predominant in his mind. His leisure has 
 never been dedicated to the acquisition of scientific 
 knowledge, nor has he sought a relaxation from his 
 severer occupations in the softness of the politer arts. 
 His earliest tastes and predilections were always in 
 coincidence with his profession. Free from all literary 
 addiction,, he not only did not listen to, but never 
 heard, the solicitations of the Muse. Men with the 
 strongest passion for. higher and more elegant en- 
 joyments have -frequently repressed that tendency, 
 from a fear that it might lead them from the pursuit 
 of more substantial objects. But it was not neces- 
 sary that Mr. Saurin should stop his ears against the 
 voice of the syren he was born deaf to her enchant- 
 ments. 
 
 I believe that this was a sort of good fortune in his 
 nature. Literary accomplishments are often of preju~ 
 dice, and very seldom of any utility, at the Bar. The 
 profession itself may occasionally afford a respite from 
 its more rigid avocations, and invite of its own accord 
 to a temporary deviation from its more dreary pursuits, 
 There are moments in which a familiarity with the 
 great models of eloquence and of high thinking may 
 be converted into use. But a lawyer like Mr. Saurin 
 will think, and wisely perhaps, that the acquisition of 
 the embellishing faculties is seldom attended with a 
 sufficiently frequent opportunity for their display, to 
 compensate for the dangers of the deviation which they 
 require from the straightforward road to professional 
 eminence, and will pursue his progress like the 
 American traveller, who, in journeying through his
 
 64 SKETCHES OF THE BAR. 
 
 vast prairies, passes, without regard, the fertile land- 
 scapes which occasionally lie adjacent to his way, and 
 never turns from his track for the sake of the rich 
 fruits and the refreshing springs of those romantic 
 recesses, which, however delicious they may appear, 
 may bewilder him in a wilderness of sweets, and 
 lead him for ever astray from the final object of his 
 destination.
 
 65 
 
 MR. JOY. 
 
 , 1823.] 
 
 " For do but mark the jeers and notable scorns 
 That live in every region of his face." 
 
 SHAKSPEABE. 
 
 MR. JOY, the present Solicitor-General for Ireland, 
 and the anti-papistical associate in office of the chief 
 advocate of the Roman Catholic claims, is the son of a 
 literary man, who was the editor of a newspaper in 
 Belfast. To the violent spirit which characterised the 
 democratic lucubrations of the father, I am inclined to 
 attribute a mistake into which the public have fallen 
 with respect to the juvenile propensities of the son. 
 The Solicitor-General is commonly considered to have 
 been addicted to liberal principles in his early life, and 
 has been reproached with having started a patriot. But 
 whiggism is not a family disorder, nor have I been able 
 to discover any grounds for thinking that Mr. Joy was 
 at any time the professor of opinions at variance with 
 his present political creed. Since he was called to the 
 Bar, which was in the year 1788, I cannot find a single 
 deviation in his conduct from the path of obvious pru- 
 
 VOL. I. F
 
 66 SKETCHES OF THE BAB. 
 
 dence, which his instinctive tendencies would naturally 
 have led him to adopt, and to which his matured expe- 
 rience must have instructed him to adhere. It required 
 little sagacity to perceive that by allying himself with 
 the religious and aristocratic passions of the prosperous 
 faction, he was much more likely to attain distinction, 
 than by any chivalrous dedication of his abilities to a 
 more noble, but unrequiting cause. 
 
 Had he had the misfortune to inherit so sterile and 
 unprofitable a patrimony as the love of Ireland, he 
 might still, perhaps, have risen to eminence and honour. 
 But his success would have been achieved in despite of 
 his principles. By choosing a different course he has 
 succeeded through them. Instead of the difficult and 
 laborious path by which so few have won their way, and 
 which is filled not only with obstacles but thorns, he 
 selected the smoother road, the progress in which is as 
 easy as it is sure which is thronged by crowds, who, 
 instead of impeding individual advancement, sustain, 
 and bear each other on and which not only leads with 
 more directness to a splendid elevation, but is bordered 
 with many fertile and rich retreats, in which those who 
 are either unable or unwilling to prosecute their journey 
 to the more distant and shining objects to which it 
 conducts at last, are certain of finding an adjacent 
 place of secure and permanent repose. In this inviting 
 path, the weak and the incapable may sit down in ease 
 and luxury, even in the lowest gradations of ascent; 
 while the more vigorous and aspiring receive an impulse 
 from the very ground they tread, and are hurried rapidly 
 along. Mr. Joy could not fail to see the advantages of 
 this accelerating course, nor do I impute much blame to 
 him for having yielded to its allurements. He has, per-
 
 ME. JOY. 67 
 
 haps, acted from that kind of artificial conviction, into 
 which the mind of an honourable man may at last suc- 
 ceed in torturing itself. Conscience, like every other 
 judge, may be misled, and there is no advocate so elo- 
 quent as self-interest before that high, but not infallible 
 tribunal. 
 
 "Whatever were his motives in choosing this judicious 
 though not very exalted course, Mr. Joy soon distin- 
 guished himself by his zeal in his vocation, and became 
 prominent among the staunch Tories at the bar. He 
 displayed in its fullest force that sort of sophisticated 
 loyalty, of which vehement Protestants are in the habit 
 of making a boastful profession in Ireland, and carried 
 the supererogatory sentiment into practice, even at the 
 convivial meetings of the bar. A lawyer, who has 
 since risen to considerable distinction, and whose youth 
 was encompassed by calamities, which it required a rare 
 combination of talents and of fortitude to surmount, 
 was selected by Mr. Joy for an early manifestation of 
 his devotedness to the cause, which it required no very 
 high spirit of prophecy to foresee would be ultimately 
 canonized by success. It was upon the motion of Mr. 
 Joy, that the barrister to whom I allude was expelled, 
 for his republican tendencies, from the bar-mess of the 
 North-east Circuit. In recommending so very rigorous 
 a measure, he gave proof of his earnestness and of his 
 good taste. The expulsion of an associate, whom an 
 almost daily intercourse ought to have invested with at 
 least the semblances of friendship, afforded abundant 
 evidence of the sincerity of the emotion with which he 
 was influenced, while his discrimination was approved, 
 by marking a man out for ruin, whose endowments 
 were sufficiently conspicuous to direct the general atten- 
 
 p 2
 
 68 SKETCHES OF THE BAR. 
 
 tion, not only to the peculiar victim that suffered in 
 the sacrifice, but to the priest who presided at the 
 immolation.* 
 
 This unequivocal exhibition of enthusiastic loyalty 
 was followed by other instances of equally devoted 
 and not more disinterested attachment to the govern- 
 ment, and Mr. Joy gradually grew into the favour of 
 those who are the distributors of honour and of emolu- 
 ment at the Bar. He did not, however, abuse the 
 predilections of authority for any mean or inglorious 
 purpose. He is, I believe, unsullied by any sordid 
 passion; and whatever may be his faults, avarice 
 is not among them. He has never been an occu- 
 pant of any one of the paltry offices at the Bar, to 
 the invention of which the genius of Irish Secretaries 
 is unremittingly applied. Aiming at loftier objects, he 
 preserved a character for independence, by abstaining 
 from solicitation. It would be tedious to trace his pro- 
 gress through the various stages of professional success 
 which conduct to celebrity at last. A lawyer advances 
 by movements almost imperceptible, from obscurity into 
 note, and from note to fame ; and would find it difficult 
 to ascribe with certainty the consummation of his suc- 
 cess to any direct or immediate cause. It is by a con- 
 tinued series of meritorious effort and of fortunate 
 event, that eminence is to be attained at the Bar. 
 
 I pass by the many years of labour in which Mr. Joy, 
 
 * The Editor has strong reasons for believing that Mr. Sheil was not 
 accurately informed of the circumstances connected with the occurrence 
 here alluded to. Mr. Joy was no doubt a zealous member of the party 
 which in those days affected to be exclusively loyal ; but the proceeding 
 of the north-east bar was in consequence of a resolution to exclude all 
 who had not been members of the Lawyers' Corps in the Yeomanry of 
 1798.
 
 ME. JOY. 69 
 
 in obedience to the destinies of his profession, must have 
 expended the flower of his life, and lead him directly 
 to the administration of Mr. Saurin. That gentleman, 
 the Coryphaeus of the Orange party, formed for Mr. 
 Joy a strong political partiality. He found in Mr. Joy 
 the cardinal virtue, which, in his opinion, is the hinge 
 of all integrity and honour, and in the absence of 
 which the highest genius and the deepest knowledge 
 are wholly without avail. With the ex-Attorney- 
 General, Orangeism in politics has all the efficacy of 
 charity in religion, and in the person of Mr. Joy, he 
 found many conspicuous qualities set-off by the full 
 lustre of Protestantism. 
 
 This community of sentiment engendered a virulent 
 sympathy between them. Mr. Joy was appointed one 
 of the three Sergeants, who take precedence after the 
 Attorney and Solicitor- General, and enjoy a sort of 
 customary right to promotion on the Bench. Even 
 before they are raised to the judicial station, they occa- 
 sionally act in lieu of any of the judges, who may happen 
 to be prevented by illness from going the circuit. The 
 malady of a judge, to such an extent of incapacity, is 
 not, however, of very frequent occurrence. A deduc- 
 tion from his salary, to the amount of four hundred 
 pounds, is inflicted as a sort of penalty, in every in- 
 stance in which he declines attending the assizes, and 
 the expedient has been found peculiarly sanative. It 
 not unfrequently happens that one of the twelve sages, 
 who has lain almost dead during the term, at the sound 
 of the circuit-trumpet, starts as it were into a judicial 
 resurrection, and, preceded by the gorgeous procession 
 of bum-bailiffs, bears his cadaverous attestation through 
 the land, to the miraculous agency of the King's com-
 
 70 SKETCHES OF THE BAR. 
 
 mission. However it does upon occasion happen, that 
 this restorative, powerful as it is, loses its preternatural 
 operation, and one of the sergeants is called upon to 
 take the place of any of the ermined dignitaries of the 
 Bench, who does not require the certificate of a physi- 
 cian to satisfy the public of the reality of his venerable 
 ailments. 
 
 This proximity to the Bench gives a Sergeant con- 
 siderable weight. In raising Mr. Joy to an office which 
 affords so many honourable anticipations, Mr. Saurin 
 must have been sensible that he added to his personal 
 influence by the elevation of so unqualified an adherent 
 to the party of which he was the head. Mr. Joy had, 
 besides, a high individual rank. Before his promotion 
 his business was considerable, and it afterwards rapidly 
 increased. It was principally augmented in chancery, 
 where pre-audience is of the utmost moment. Lord 
 Manners is disposed to allow too deep a permanence 
 to the earliest impression, and whoever first addresses 
 him has the odds in his favour. The enjoyment of 
 priority swelled the bag of Mr. Joy, which was soon 
 distended into an equality with that of the present 
 Chief-justice, Mr. Bushe. 
 
 That great advocate found in Mr. Joy a dangerous 
 competitor. The latter was generally supposed to be 
 more profoundly read, and the abstract principles of 
 equity were traced by sagacious solicitors in the folds 
 arid furrows of his brow. The eloquence of Bushe was 
 little appreciated by men who thought that, because 
 they had been delighted, they ought not to have been 
 convinced. Joy had a more logical aspect in the eyes 
 of those who conceive that genius affords jrrimd facie 
 evidence against knowledge, and grew into a gradual
 
 ME. JOY. 71 
 
 preference at the chancery bar. It iras no light 
 recommendation to him that he was the protege, of 
 Saurin, who could not bring himself to forgive the 
 liberalism of his colleague, and was not unwilling to 
 assist the prosperous competition of his more Protestant 
 eleve. His strenuous protection gave strong reasons to 
 Bushe to tremble at Mr. Joy's pretensions to the highest 
 seat npon the Bench. Bushe had himself declined the 
 office of a puisne judge, in the just expectation of attain- 
 ing to that which he at present occupies in a manner so 
 useful to the country and so creditable to himself. But 
 he was doomed to the endurance of a long interval of 
 suspense before his present fortunate, and I may even 
 call it, accidental elevation. He had been already 
 sufficiently annoyed by the perverse longevity of Lord 
 Norbury, and the no less vexatious hesitations of Lord 
 Downes, who tortured him for years with the judicial 
 coquetry of affected resignation. But the appearance 
 of another candidate for the object of his protracted 
 aspirations had well nigh broken his spirit and reduced 
 him to despair. 
 
 It was at one time quite notorious, that if a vacancy 
 had occurred in the chief-justiceship of the KingV 
 bench, Saurin would have exercised his influence in 
 behalf of his favourite ; and it was almost equally cer- 
 tain that his influence would have prevailed. In the 
 general notion Joy was soon to preside in the room of 
 Downes, and his own demeanour tended not a little to 
 confirm it. The auspices of success were assembled in 
 his aspect, as conspicuously as the omens of disaster 
 were collected in the bearing of Mr. Bushe. The latter 
 exhibited all the most painful symptoms of the malady 
 of procrastinated hope. The natural buoyancy of his
 
 72 SKETCHES OF THE BAB. 
 
 spirit sunk under the oppressive and accumulating soli- 
 citude that weighed upon him. Conscious of the power 
 of our emotions, and of the readiness with which they 
 break into external results, he was ever on his guard 
 against them. He well knew how speedily misfortune 
 is detected by the vulgar- and heartless crowd we call 
 the world, and made every effort to rescue himself from 
 their ignominious commiseration. To escape from a 
 sentiment which is so closely connected with contempt, 
 he wrought himself at moments into a wild and feverish 
 hilarity : but the care that consumes the heart, mani- 
 fested itself in despite of all his efforts to conceal it. 
 His bursts of high- wrought joyousness were speedily 
 followed by the depression which usually succeeds to an 
 unnatural inebriation of the mind : his eyes used to be 
 fixed in a heavy and abstracted glare; his face was 
 suffused with a murky and unwholesome red, melan- 
 choly seemed to "bake his blood." He was vacant 
 when disengaged, and impatient when occupied, and 
 every external circumstance about him attested the 
 workings of solicitude that were going on within. 
 
 It was truly distressing to see this eloquent, high- 
 minded, and generous man, dying of the ague of expec- 
 tation, and alternately shivering with wretched disap- 
 pointment, and inflamed with miserable hope. Joy, on 
 the other hand, displayed all the characteristics of pros- 
 perity, and would have been set down by the most 
 casual observer as a peculiarly successful man. An air 
 of good fortune was spread around him : it breathed 
 from his face, and was diffused over all that he said and 
 did. His eyes twinkled with the pride of authority. 
 His brow assumed by anticipation the solemnity of the 
 judicial cast ; he seemed to rehearse the part of chief-
 
 ME. JOY. 73 
 
 justice, and to be already half-seated on the highest 
 place upon the Bench. But suddenly it was plucked 
 from beneath him Lord Wellesley arrived Saurin was 
 precipitated from his office. In a paroxysm of dis- 
 tempered magnanimity he disdained to accept the first 
 judicial station, and Bushe, to his own astonishment, 
 grasped in permanence and security that object of half 
 his life, which had appeared so long to fly from his 
 pursuit, and, just before the instant of its attainment, 
 seemed, like a phantasm, to have receded from his 
 reach for ever. " Bushe is now chief-justice of the 
 King's-bench ; and that he may long continue to pre- 
 side there is the wish of every man by whom indiscri-, 
 ruinate urbanity to the Bar, unremitting attention to 
 the duties of his office, and a perfect competence to 
 their discharge the purest impartiality and a most 
 noble intellect are held in value. 
 
 Notwithstanding that the Bench was withdrawn from 
 Mr. Joy, while he was almost in the attitude of seating 
 himself upon it, he did not fall to the ground. Bushe's 
 promotion left a vacancy in the office of Solicitor- 
 General, and it was tendered to Mr. Joy. This was 
 considered a little singular, as his opinions were well 
 known to be exactly opposite to those of the new 
 Attorney-General, Mr. Plunket. That circumstance, 
 however, so far from being a ground of objection, was, 
 I am inclined to think, a principal motive for sub- 
 mitting the vacant place to his acceptance. It had 
 been resolved to compound all parties together. The 
 more repulsive the ingredients, the better fitted they 
 were for the somewhat empirical process of conciliation, 
 with which Lord Wellesley had undertaken to mix 
 them up together. The government being itself an
 
 74 SKETCHES OP THE BAR. 
 
 anomaly "a thing of shreds and patches,": it was 
 only consistent that the legal department should be 
 equally heterogeneous. To this sagacious project, the 
 conjunction of two persons who differ so widely from 
 each other as Mr. Plunket and Mr. Joy, is to be attri- 
 buted.* The latter was blamed by many of his friends 
 for the promptitude with which he allied himself to the 
 new administration, for he did not affect the coyness 
 which is usually illustrated by a proverbial reference to 
 clerical ambition. He was well aware that if he in- 
 dulged in the mockery of a refusal, amidst the rapid 
 fluctuations of an undecided government, he might 
 endanger the ultimate possession of so valuable an 
 office. He did not put on any virgin reluctances, nor 
 seem "fearful of his wishes," but embraced the fair 
 opportunity with a genuine and unaffected ardour. 
 
 The strangeness of this coalition, between men of 
 principles so directly opposite, was speedily illustrated. 
 The trial of the Orangemen for the famous theatrical 
 riot brought the incoherences of the system into full 
 relief. M. Joy was well known to coincide with the 
 loyal delinquents upon the abstract question of ascend- 
 ancy, with as cordial a warmth as the natural tran- 
 quillity of his temperament would permit ; and however 
 he might have disapproved of the expedient by which 
 their ferocious passion for the constitution was evinced, 
 it was impossible that he should regard the excesses, 
 
 * The " conciliation" system, as it was called in the days of Lord 
 Wellesley, has a sort of parallel and off-shoot in the present times in the 
 practice of balancing a Protestant against a Catholic, or a Catholic 
 against a Protestant, in the Irish law appointments, particularly those of 
 Attorney and Solicitor-General. When snch a system works well, it can 
 only be by accident. It is manifestly vicious in principle.
 
 MR. JOT. 75 
 
 in which their barbarous loyalty was exemplified, with 
 any very vehement indignation. "We extend an un- 
 avoidable sympathy to the errors which arise from a 
 superabundance of those emotions in which we our- 
 selves participate. The official duty of Mr. Joy pre- 
 scribed to him a course from which he must have 
 recoiled; and it was necessary to spur him onward 
 where another would have required the rein. 
 
 The Attorney- General was sensible of the peculiarity 
 of his condition,. and determined to urge him, if pos- 
 sible, into a more cordial alliance with himself. Ac- 
 cordingly he covered him with praise. He seemed at 
 a loss to determine whether King William or Mr. Joy 
 had the higher claims to his admiration. He said, 
 that " by his high talents, enlightened information, 
 and extensive knowledge, he had been assisted in every 
 step of the prosecution, and that to his cordial zeal 
 and co-operation no terms could be too strong to 
 render justice and express his gratitude." This en- 
 comium produced a smile. It was at once perceived 
 that Mr. Plunket was distrustful of his colleague ; and, 
 to use a vulgar phrase, was determined to "put it 
 upon him." Joy felt that it was meant as a stimulant, 
 and, in despite of his own stubborn conviction, en- 
 deavoured to excite himself into a semblance of sin- 
 cerity. His speech was judicious and well arranged. 
 He arrayed the evidence with skill, and showed himself 
 to be well versed in the discipline of his profession. 
 But his manner was cold and frosty-spirited ; his clear- 
 ness was wintry and congealed ; his reasons were upon 
 one side, and all his passions upon the other. He 
 appeared to labour with his own consciousness, and to 
 attend less to the arguments applicable to the case,
 
 76 SKETCHES OF THE BAR. 
 
 than to the mode in which he was to play his part. 
 He made some singular confessions. In lauding Lord 
 "VVellesley he said, " that his Lordship did him the 
 honour to appoint him to the office which he held, with 
 perfect knowledge, that, upon the great subject which 
 divided the country, his opinions differed from his 
 Lordship's; nor was that question ever once, in the 
 course of a year during which he had been in office, 
 mentioned." 
 
 This statement gave a curious insight into the vice- 
 regal councils, in which a great national question was 
 never once alluded to in delicate respect to the tender 
 feelings of Mr. Joy. It had also the effect of an inti- 
 mation to the jury, that it would not be a matter of 
 deep regret to his Majesty's Solicitor General, if those 
 with whom he felt so strenuous a concurrence of senti- 
 ment, and whose " failings leaned to virtue's side," 
 were to escape from the poisoned tooth of Mr. Plunket. 
 But it was scarcely needful to apprise the jury of his 
 own feelings, in order to neutralize all the effects which 
 his abstract reasoning might produce. His very coun- 
 tenance seemed to be at variance with his speech. It 
 was a personification of humbug. It has a natural 
 tendency to derision; and the expression which it 
 habitually assumes towards others, appeared in this 
 instance to be extended to himself. Through the arch 
 solemnity with which his features were invested, it was 
 easy to discern the spirit of ridicule breaking, in occa- 
 sional flashes of mockery, from his eye, and playing 
 in lambent scorn about him. To .the Government by 
 which he was employed, he gave no reason for com- 
 plaint, and acquitted himself with mercenary fidelity of 
 his distasteful task.
 
 MR. JOY. 77 
 
 Mr. Plunket could not have said that he omitted a 
 single topic upon which he ought to have relied ; hut 
 he must have thought how different an effect would 
 have been produced by his old friend Mr. Burrowes. 
 Instead of the well-turned sentences of graceful diction, 
 which were uttered with cold suavity and gentle re- 
 monstrance by Mr. Joy, that able man would have 
 thrown among the jury an inflamed harangue, which, 
 if it had not extorted justice, would at least have 
 inflicted shame. .The jury would have been attainted 
 by the eloquence of the advocate. The placidity of 
 Mr. Joy had the effect of reconciling them to their 
 verdict. He politely asked them to find the traversers 
 guilty, and with such an air as gave them to under- 
 stand that he would not take it in very bad part, if 
 they declined to comply with his request. He delivered 
 a well-enunciated essay, which indicated a cultivated 
 mind, but which was destitute of impressiveness or 
 force. It was not, as it ought to have been, " struck 
 fiery off." It wanted neither happiness of diction nor 
 felicity of thought ; but it was deficient in power, and 
 left the jury at its conclusion in as undisturbed a self- 
 complacency, as if his lips had not been opened during 
 the trial. 
 
 I am far from meaning to impute any censure to 
 Mr. Joy for the least purposed inefficiency upon this 
 occasion. I doubt not that he did as much as his 
 pecular relation to the traversers would allow ; but he 
 was so shackled and restrained that it was impossible 
 that his faculties should have had their full play. These 
 are of a high quality, and he is justly accounted one of 
 the ablest men at the Irish Bar. In the sense in which 
 eloquence, and especially in Ireland, is generally under-
 
 78 SKETCHES OF THE BAR. 
 
 stood, I do not think that it belongs to him in a very 
 remarkable degree. At times his manner is very 
 strenuous, but energy is by no means the characteristic 
 of his speaking. I have seen him, upon occasion, 
 appeal to juries with considerable force, and manifest 
 that honest indignation in the reprobation of meanness 
 and of depravity, which is always sure to excite an 
 exalted sentiment in the minds of men. The sincere 
 enforcement of good principle is among the noblest 
 sources of genuine oratory; and he that awakens a 
 more generous love of virtue, and lifts us beyond the 
 ordinary sphere of our moral sensibilities, produces the 
 true results of eloquence. This Mr. Joy has not 
 unfrequently accomplished; but his habitual cast of 
 expression and of thought is too much subdued and 
 kept under the vigilant control of a timid and suspi- 
 cious taste, to be attended with any very signal and 
 shining effects. 
 
 He deals little in that species of illustration which 
 indicates a daring and adventurous mind ; that seeks 
 to deliver its strong, though not always matured, con- 
 ceptions in bold and lofty phrase. Its products may 
 be frequently imperfect, but a single noble thought that 
 springs full formed from the imagination, compensates 
 for all its abortive offspring. Mr. Joy does not appear 
 to think so, and studiously abstains from the indulgence 
 of that propensity to figurative decoration, which in 
 Ireland is carried to some excess. Nature, I sus- 
 pect, has been a little niggard in the endowment of 
 his fancy ; and if she has not given him wings for a 
 sustained and lofty flight, he is wise in not using any 
 waxen pinions. I have never detected any exagge- 
 ration in his speeches, either in notion or in phrase.
 
 ME. JOY. 79 
 
 His language is precise and pure, but so simple, as 
 scarcely to deviate from the plainness of ordinary 
 discourse. 
 
 It was observed of Lysias that he seldom employed a 
 word which was not in the most common use, but that 
 his language was so measured as to render his style 
 exceedingly melodious and sweet. Mr. Joy very rarely 
 has recourse to an expression which is not perfectly 
 familiar. But he combines the most trivial forms of 
 phrase with so much art together, as to give them a 
 peculiarly rhythmical construction. Upon occasion, 
 however, he throws into a speech some ornamental 
 allusion to his own favourite pursuits. He takes a 
 flower or two from his hortus siccus, and flings it 
 carelessly out. But his images are derived from the 
 museum and the cabinet, and not from the mountain 
 and the field. He is strongly addicted to the study of 
 the more graceful sciences, and versed in shrubs, and 
 birdsj and butterflies. In this respect he stands an 
 honourable exception to most of the eminent members 
 of the Bar, with whom all scientific and literary acquire- 
 ment is held in a kind of disrepute. Mr. Joy has not 
 neglected those sources of permanent enjoyment, which 
 continue to administer their innocent gratifications, 
 when almost every other is dried up. He has employed 
 his solitary leisure (for he is an old bachelor, and, in 
 despite of certain rumours recently afloat, appears to be 
 an inveterate Mr. Oldbuck) in the cultivation of elegant, 
 although, in some instances, fantastic tastes. He is 
 devoted to the loves of the plants, and spends in a well- 
 assorted museum of curiosities many an hour of dal- 
 Hance with an insect or a shell. It is not unnatural 
 that his mind should be impregnated with his intel-
 
 80 SKETCHES OF THE BAR. 
 
 lectual recreations ; and whenever he ventures upon a 
 metaphor, it may readily be traced to some association 
 with his scientific pursuits. 
 
 But, with this rare exception, Mr. Joy may be 
 accounted an unadorned speaker. His chief merit con- 
 sists in his talent for elucidation and for sneering. 
 He is, indeed, so sensible of his genius for mockery, 
 that he puts into use wherever the least opportunity is 
 afforded for its display. When it is his object to cover 
 a man with disgrace, he lavishes encomium with a tone 
 and look that render his envenomed praises more deadly 
 than the fiercest invective. He deals in incessant 
 irony, and sets off his virulent panegyric with a smile 
 of such baleful derision as to furnish a model to a 
 painter for Goethe's Mephistopheles. In cross-exami- 
 nation he employs this formidable faculty with singular 
 effect. Here he shews high excellence. He contem- 
 plates the witness with the suppressed delight of an 
 inquisitor, who calmly surveys his victim before he 
 has him on the wheel. He does not drag him to the 
 torture with a ferocious precipitation, and throw him 
 at once into his torments, but with a slow and blandish- 
 ing suavity tempts and allures him on, and invites him 
 to the point at which he knows that the means of 
 infliction lie in wait. He offers him a soft and downy 
 bed in which the rack is concealed, and when he is laid 
 upon it, even then he does not put out all his resources 
 of agony at once. He affects to caress the victim whom 
 he torments, and it is only after he has brought the 
 whole machinery of torture into action, that his pur- 
 pose is perfectly revealed ; and even then, and when he 
 is in the fullest triumph of excruciation, he retains his 
 seeming and systematic gentleness ; he affects to wonder
 
 MR. JOY. 81 
 
 at the pain which he applies, and while he is pouring 
 molten lead into the wound, pretends to think it 
 balm. 
 
 The habitual irony which Mr. Joy is accustomed to 
 put into such efficient practice, has given an expression 
 to his face which is peculiarly sardonic. Whatever 
 mutations his countenance undergoes, are but varied 
 modifications of a sneer. It exhibits in every aspect a 
 phasis of disdain. Plunket's face sins a little in this 
 regard, but its expression is less contemptuous than 
 harsh. There is in it more of the acidity of ill humour 
 than of the bitterness of scorn. His pride appears to 
 result rather from the sense of his own endowments, 
 than from any depreciating reference to those of other 
 men. But the mockery of Mr. Joy is connected with 
 all the odium of comparison : 
 
 Et lea deux bras croises, du haut de son esprit, 
 II ecoute en pitie tout ce que chacun dit. 
 
 The features upon which this perpetual derision is 
 inlaid, are of a peculiar cast they are rough-hewn and 
 unclassical, and dispersed over a square and rectangular 
 visage, without symmetry or arrangement. His mouth 
 is cut broadly, and directly from one jaw to the other, 
 and has neither richness nor curve. There are in his 
 cheeks two deep cavities, which in his younger days 
 might have possibly passed for dimples, hollowed out in 
 the midst of yellow flesh. Here it is that ridicule 
 seems to have chosen her perpetual residence, for I do 
 not remember to have seen her give way to any more 
 kindly or gentle sentiment. His nose is broad at the 
 root ; its nostrils are distended, and it terminates in an 
 ascending point : but it is too short for a profile, and 
 VOL. i. G
 
 82 SKETCHES OF THE BAR. 
 
 lies in a side view almost concealed in the folds of 
 parchment by which it is encompassed.* The -eyes are 
 dark, bright, and intellectual, but the lids are shrivelled 
 and pursed up in such a manner, and seemingly by an 
 act of will, as to leave but a small space between their 
 contracted rims for the gleams of vision that are per- 
 mitted to escape. They seem to insinuate that it is 
 not worth their while to be open, in order to survey the 
 insignificant object on which they may chance to light. 
 The forehead is thoughtful and high, but from the 
 posture of the head, which is thrown back and generally 
 aside, it appropriately surmounts this singular assem- 
 blage of features, and lends an important contribution 
 to the sardonic effect of the whole. 
 
 His deportment is in keeping with his physiognomy. 
 If the reader will suggest to his imagination the figure 
 of a Mandarin receiving Lord Amherst at the palace 
 at Pekin, and with contemptuous courtesy proposing 
 to his Lordship the ceremony of the Ko-tou, he will 
 form a pretty accurate notion of the bearing, the 
 manners, and the hue of his Majesty's Solicitor-General 
 for Ireland. He is extremely polite, but his politeness 
 is as Chinese as his look, and appears to be dictated 
 rather by a sense of what he owes to himself, than by 
 any deference to the person who has the misfortune 
 to be its object. And yet with all this assumption of 
 dignity, Mr. Joy is not precisely dignified. He is in 
 a perpetual effort to sustain his consequence, and arms 
 himself against the least invasion upon his title to 
 respect. Of its legitimacy, however, he does not appear 
 
 * There is a striking resemblance in this and several other personal 
 descriptions in these papers to the style of Quevedo's portraits, without 
 the coarseness, however, of the Spanish satirist.
 
 MR. JOY. 83 
 
 ^to be completely satisfied. He seems a spy upon his 
 own importance, and keeps watch over the sacred 
 treasure with a most earnest and unremitting vigilance. 
 Accordingly he is for ever busy with himself. There 
 is nothing abstract and meditative in his aspect, nor 
 does his mind ever wander beyond the immediate 
 localities that surround him. There is "no speculation 
 in his eye " an intense consciousness pervades all that 
 he says and does. 
 
 I never yet saw him lost in reverie. When dis- 
 engaged from his professional occupations, he stands 
 in the Hall with the same collected manner which he 
 bore in the discharge of his duties to his client, and 
 with his thoughts fastened to the spot. While others 
 are pacing with rapidity along the flags which have 
 worn out so many hopes, Joy remains in stationary 
 stateliness, peering with a side-long look at the peri- 
 strephic panorama that revolves around him. The 
 whole, however, of what is going on is referred to his 
 own individuality; self is the axis of the little world 
 about him, and while he appears scarcely conscious of 
 the presence of a single person in all the crowd by 
 which he is encompassed, he is in reality noting down 
 the slightest glance that may be connected with 
 himself. 
 
 There is something so artificial in the demeanour 
 of Mr. Joy, and especially in the authoritativeness 
 which he assumes with the official silk in which he 
 attires his person, that his external appearance gives 
 but little indication of his character. His dispositions 
 are much more commendable than a disciple of Lavater 
 would be inclined to surmise. I suspect that his 
 hauteur is worn from a conviction that the vulgar are 
 
 o 2
 
 84 SKETCHES OP THE BAR. 
 
 most inclined to reverence the man by whom they are 
 most strenuously despised. Upon a view of Mr. Joy, 
 it would be imagined that he would not prove either 
 a very humane or patient judge ; but it is quite other- 
 wise, and those who have had an opportunity of observ- 
 ing him in a judicial capacity upon circuit, concur in 
 the desire that he should be permanently placed in a 
 situation for which he has already displayed, in its 
 transitory occupation, so many conspicuous qualities.* 
 
 * Mr. Joy succeeded Mr. Plunket as Attorney-General in 1827, and 
 held that office until 1831, when he became Chief Baron upon the retire- 
 ment of CVGrady from the Exchequer. Chief Baron Joy died in 1838.
 
 85 
 
 LORD NORBURY. 
 
 [NOTEMBEB, 1827.] 
 
 IN the account given by Sir Pertinax Macsycophant 
 of his rise and progress in the world, he states that his 
 only patrimony was a piece of parental advice, which 
 stood him in lieu of an estate. I have heard it said, 
 that Lord Norbury, in detailing the circumstances 
 which attended his original advancement in life, gene- 
 rally commenced the narrative of his adventures with 
 a death-bed scene of a peculiarly Irish character. His 
 father, a gentleman of a respectable Protestant family 
 in the county of Tipperary, called him in his last 
 moments to his side, and after stating that, in order 
 to sustain the ancient and venerable name of Toler in 
 its dignity, he had devised the estate derived from a 
 sergeant (not at law) to his eldest son, the old Crom- 
 wellian drew from under his pillow a case of silver- 
 mounted pistols, and delivering this " donatio mortis 
 causa," charged him never to omit exhibiting the 
 promptitude of an Irish gentleman, in resorting to 
 these forensic and parliamentary instruments of
 
 86 SKETCHES OP THE BAR. 
 
 advancement. The family acres having gone to the 
 eldest brother, our hero proceeded with his .specific 
 legacy, well oiled and primed, to Dublin, having no 
 other fortune than the family pistols, and a couple of 
 hundred pounds, when he was called in the year 1770 
 to the bar. The period is so remote, that no account 
 of his earlier exploits, beyond that of his habitual sub- 
 stitution of the canons of chivalry for those of law, has 
 remained. 
 
 "With one of his contemporaries, the late Sir Frede- 
 rick Flood, I was acquainted, and I have heard that 
 eminent person, whom the intellectual aristocracy of 
 Wexford sent to supply the place of Mr. Fuller in the 
 British House of Commons,* occasionally expatiate on 
 
 * Mr. Fuller is now forgotten, yet he made not a little noise in his 
 day, particularly in the House of Commons. He was greater in his line 
 than any man who has either bored or diverted parliament since. In 
 February, 1810, when the House was in committee on the policy of the 
 expedition to the Scheldt, he committed such enormities that he received 
 a terrible reprimand from the Speaker, and narrowly escaped expulsion. 
 In the debates of the following, we find him rising to " Order" during 
 an altercation that took place between Mr. Percival and Mr. Whitbrcad, 
 on the Catholic question. The following is a brief " touch of his 
 quality." 
 
 " Perhaps, Sir, I was not a proper person to rise to order ; no matter 
 for that, I confess it. The honourable gentleman opposite (Mr. Whit- 
 bread) has no right to talk of other people. His own friends sneaked 
 out of office most contemptibly. (Order.) 'Pon my honour, Sir, it is not 
 my remark ; I speak on suggestion. As to those Irish affairs, I remem- 
 ber about thirty years ago a set of people coming down to this house 
 sweating and fuming like a steam-engine. (A laugh.) I have no faith 
 in Catholic Emancipation. I think there is a radical antipathy between 
 England and Ireland. (Order.) Well, then, try Emancipation, if you 
 think it will do. I care no more for a Catholic than I do for a Chinese. 
 Give the fellows in the red waistcoats and blue breeches every thing they 
 want. I know the Duke of Richmond," &c. Mr. Fuller represented 
 the county of Sussex.
 
 LORD NORBUSY. 87 
 
 the feats which he used to perform with Lord Norbury, 
 with something of the spirit with which Justice Shallow 
 records his achievements at Clement's Inn . " Oh, the 
 mad days that I have spent/' Sir Frederick used to 
 say, " and to think that so many of my old acquaint- 
 ance are dead ! " The details, however, of his narrations 
 have escaped me. I had calculated that, as he was a 
 strict disciple of Abernethy (except when he dined out), 
 he would have equalled Cornaro in longevity; but 
 being as abstemious in his dress as in his diet, and 
 having denied himself the luxury of an exterior inte- 
 gument, Sir Frederick coughed himself, a couple of 
 winters since, unexpectedly away. I am therefore 
 unable to resort to any of Lord Norbury's original 
 companions, fof an authentic account of the first 
 development of his genius at the Irish Bar. 
 
 If that bar had been constituted as it is at present, 
 at the period when Lord Norbury was called, it is 
 difficult to imagine how he could have succeeded. 
 Destitute of knowledge, with a mind which, however 
 shrewd and sagacious in the perception of his own 
 interests, was unused to consider, and was almost 
 incapable of comprehending any legal proposition, he 
 could never have risen to any sort of eminence, where 
 perspicuity or erudition was requisite for success. But 
 the qualifications for distinction, at the time when 
 Lord Norbury was called, were essentially different 
 from, what they are at present. Endowed with the 
 lungs of Stentor, and a vivacity of temperament which 
 sustained him in all the turbulence of Irish Nisi Prius, 
 and superadding to his physical attributes for noise 
 and bluster,, a dauntless determination, he obtained 
 some employment in those departments of his pro-
 
 88 SKETCHES OF THE BAR. 
 
 fession, in which merits of the kind were at that time 
 of value. His elder brother, Daniel, was elected 
 member for the county of Tipperary, which brought 
 him into connexion with Government ; bnt, besides his 
 brother's vote, he is reported to have intimated to the 
 ministry, that upon all necessary occasions his life 
 should be at their service. The first exploit from 
 which his claims upon the gratitude of the local 
 administration of the country were chiefly derived, was 
 the " putting down," to use the technical phrase, of 
 Mr. Napper Tandy. The latter was a distinguished 
 member of the Whig Club, and was a tribune of the 
 people. 
 
 Tandy had set up great pretensions to intrepidity, 
 but, having ^come into collision with Lord Norbury, 
 manifested so little alacrity in accepting the ready 
 tender which was made to him by that intrepid loyalist, 
 that the latter was considered to have gained a decided 
 superiority. Napper Tandy remained lingering on the 
 threshold of the arena, while the prize-fighter of the 
 ministers rushed into it at once, and brandished his 
 sword amidst the applauses of that party, of which he 
 was thenceforward the champion. The friends of 
 Napper Tandy accounted for his tardiness in calling 
 out Lord Norbury (who declared his willingness to meet 
 him in half an hour), by referring it to an apprehension 
 that the House of Commons would interfere; but it 
 seems probable that the patriot of the hour set a 
 higher estimate upon his existence than it merited, 
 while Lord Norbury rated himself at his real value, 
 and did not " set his life at a pin's fee." 
 
 After this affair, which mainly contributed to the 
 making of his fortunes, the minister determined to
 
 LORD NORBURY. 89 
 
 turn the principal talent which he appeared to possess, 
 and of which he had given so conspicuous a proof, to 
 farther account. In the Irish House of Commons, the 
 government party, when hard pressed, converted the 
 debate into a sort of sanguinary burletta, in which 
 Lord Norbury, then Sergeant Toler, and Sir Boyle 
 Boche, of blundering memory, were their favourite 
 performers. When Grattan had ignited the House of 
 Commons, and succeeded in awakening some recollec- 
 tions of public virtue in that corrupt and prostituted 
 assembly, or when Mr. Ponsonby, the leader of the 
 Whig aristocracy, had by his clear and simple exposition 
 of the real interests of the country, brought a reluctant , 
 conviction of their duty to those who were most 
 interested in shutting it out, finding themselves 
 unequal to cope in eloquence with the one, or in 
 argument with the other, the government managers 
 produced Sir Boyle Roche and Sergeant Toler upon 
 the scene. 
 
 On Grattan the experiment of bullying was not 
 tried, for his firmness was too well known. Sir Boyle 
 was therefore appointed to reply to him, as his absur- 
 dities were found to be useful in restoring the House 
 to that moral tone, from which the elevating declama- 
 tion of the greatest speaker of his time had for a 
 moment raised them. Under the influence of Sir 
 Boyle's blunders, which were in part intended, the 
 Irish legislators recovered their characteristic pleasantry, 
 and " made merry of a nation's woes : " while Sergeant 
 Toler, who almost equalled Sir Boyle in absurdity, and 
 was more naturally, because he was involuntarily extra- 
 vagant, played his part, and was let loose upon 
 Mr. Ponsonby, whose nerves were of a delicate organ-
 
 90 SKETCHES OF THE BAR. 
 
 isation, with singular effect. That eminent statesman 
 had made a speech, recommending Catholic Emancipa- 
 tion, and other collateral measures, as the only means 
 of rescuing Ireland from the ruin which impended over 
 her. He was always remarkable for the dignified 
 urbanity of his manners, and in the speech to which 
 Sergeant Toler replied, scarcely any man but Toler 
 could have found materials for personal vituperation. 
 
 The English reader will be able to form some idea of 
 the system on which the debates of the Irish House 
 of Commons were carried on, and to estimate Lord 
 NorburVs powers of minacious oratory, from the 
 following extract from the parliamentary debates. 
 "What was it come to, that in the Irish House of 
 Commons they should listen to one of their own 
 members degrading the character of an Irish gentle- 
 man by language which was fitted but for hallooing a 
 mob? Had he heard a man uttering out of those 
 doors such language as that by which the honourable 
 gentleman had violated the decorum of parliament, he 
 would have seized the ruffian by the throat, and 
 dragged him to the dust ! What were the House made 
 of, who could listen in patience to such abominable 
 sentiments ? Sentiments, thank God ! which were 
 acknowledged by no class of men in this country, 
 except the execrable and infamous nest of traitors, who 
 were known by the name of United Irishmen, who sat 
 brooding in Belfast over their discontents and treasons, 
 and from whose publications he could trace, word for 
 word, every expression the honourable gentleman had 
 used." Irish Parliamentary Debates, Feb. 1797.* 
 
 * The horrpr of the English reader at this specimen of Lord Norbury's 
 parliamentary eloquence will be diminished by remembering that upon
 
 LORD NORBURY. 91 
 
 Of this fragment of vituperation Mr. Ponsonby took 
 no notice; and the object of the orator was attained, 
 in securing himself a new title to the gratitude of those 
 who kept a band of bravoes hired in their service, and 
 could not have selected a more appropriate instrument 
 than Lord Norbury for the purposes of intimidation. 
 To his personal courage, or rather recklessness of the 
 lives of others as well as his own, he is chiefly indebted 
 for his promotion. It was the leading trait of his 
 character, and, prevailing over his extravagance, 
 invested him with a sort of spurious respectability. 
 In the manifestations of that spirit, which had become 
 habitual, he has persevered to the last ; and even since 
 he has been a Chief-Justice has betrayed his original 
 tendency to settle matters after the old Irish fashion, 
 at the distance of twelve paces. He has more than 
 once intimated to a counsel, who was pressing him too 
 closely with a Bill of Exceptions, that he would not seek 
 shelter behind the Bench, or merge the gentleman in the 
 Chief- Justice ; and, when a celebrated senator charged 
 him with having fallen asleep on a trial for murder, he 
 is reported to have declared that he would resign, in 
 order to demand satisfaction, as "that Scotch Broom 
 (Brougham) wanted nothing so much as an Irish stick" 
 
 In the year 1798, Lord Nor bury was his Majesty's 
 
 the same arena, some years later, even so great a man as Mr. Grattan 
 retorted upon Mr. Corry, in a strain little less termagant : " The 
 honourable gentleman had said that by his counsel the rebellion had been 
 brought about. Had any man out of the house said what the honourable 
 gentleman had said in the house, his answer would have been a blow. 
 He cared not how high his situation, how frivolous his character, whether 
 he was a privy counsellor or a parasite, a half coxcomb or a half swindler, 
 his answer would be a blow." The extraordinary provocation, however, 
 which Mr. Gratfcan received, is to be recollected and allowed for.
 
 92 SKETCHES OF THE BAR. 
 
 Solicitor-General. His services to Government had 
 been hitherto confined to the display of ferocious 
 rhetoric in the Honse of Commons, of which I have 
 quoted a specimen. The civil disturbances of the 
 country offered a new field to his genius, and afforded 
 him an opportunity of accumulating his claims upon 
 the gratitude of the crown, which could not have found 
 a more zealous, and, I will even add, a more useful 
 servant during the rebellion. If the juries before 
 whom the hordes who were charged with high treason 
 were put upon their trial, had been either scrupulous 
 or reluctant, if any questions of effectual difficulty 
 could have arisen, and the forms of the law could have 
 been used with any chance of success in the defence of 
 the prisoners, if justice had not rushed with eagerness 
 through every impediment, and broken all ceremony 
 down, such a Solicitor-General as Lord Norbury would 
 have been an inapplicable and inefficient instrument; 
 but the evidence of informers was generally so direct 
 and simple, and so strong was the impatience of juries 
 to precipitate themselves to a conviction, all niceties 
 and technicalities of the law were so utterly disregarded, 
 and it was so little requisite that the conductors of 
 Government prosecutions should possess either acute- 
 ness or knowledge, that Lord Norbury's faculties were 
 quite equal to the discharge of his official duty, while 
 they were in happy adaptation to the moral character 
 of the public tribunals, and the exigency of the time. 
 
 To strike terror into the people was the great object 
 to be attained, and Lord Norbury had many qualifica- 
 tions for the purpose. He stood in a court of justice, 
 not only as the servant of his sovereign, but as the 
 representative, in some measure, of the powerful
 
 LORD NORBURY. 93 
 
 Cromwellian aristocracy to which his family belonged, 
 and in whose prejudices and passions he himself vehe- 
 mently participated. His whole bearing and aspect 
 breathed a turbulent spirit of domination. His voice 
 was deep and big ; and in despite of the ludicrous 
 associations connected with his character, when it 
 rolled the denunciations of infuriated power through 
 the court, derived from the terrible intimations which 
 it conveyed, an awful and appalling character. He did 
 not indeed cease to utter absurdity, but his orations 
 were fraught with -a kind of truculent bombast a sort 
 of sanguinary " fee, fa, fum ! " while the dilation of 
 his nostrils, and the fierceness of his looks, expressed, 
 if I may so say, the scent of a traitor's blood. 
 
 In his moments of excitation (and he is capable of 
 ascending beyond the level of ordinary feeling and dis- 
 course) his spirit was strongly roused, and his counte- 
 nance, swelled as it was with passion, and stained with 
 a dark red, became the image of his intellect and of his 
 sensibility. His eyes were inflamed with a ferocious 
 loyalty, and the consciousness of unbounded power; 
 and while they glared on the wretches who stood pale 
 and trembling at the bar, or were fixed in defiance on 
 the counsel for the prisoner, assisted, with their savage 
 glare, the canons of extermination which the orator 
 was laying down. A certain trick of expanding his 
 cheeks, and swelling them with wind, which he puffed 
 importantly off, set off his tempestuous adjurations, 
 and made him look as if he were blowing all mercy 
 and compunction away. Thus he was every way well 
 adapted to his terrible task. 
 
 Nor was he less qualified, when, in his capacity of 
 Solicitor-General, he was put on the commission, and
 
 94 SKETCHES OF THE BAR. 
 
 went as a Judge of Assize.* Much of the same de- 
 meanour and deportment was preserved on the bench, 
 where the red robes in which he was arrayed heightened 
 the impression which his face, voice, and figure, were 
 calculated to produce. There was, however, this differ- 
 ence, that his spirit of buffoonery became more con- 
 spicuous upon the bench. It should not, however, be 
 too hastily concluded that his love of drollery in any 
 degree disqualified him for the exercise of the judicial 
 functions. On the contrary, his merits as a jester were 
 among his most useful and efficient attributes as a 
 judge. He was fanciful or turgid, just as the occasion 
 required. In his addresses to the jury, he was as 
 swollen with exaggerated loyalty as the gravest sup- 
 porter of Protestant Ascendency could have desired; 
 while during the rest of the trial, he put on a de- 
 meanour of heedless hilarity, which indicated the little 
 value which he attached to the life of an insurgent, and 
 taught the populace at what rate human breath was 
 estimated in his court. The effect of the tortures of 
 Macbriar, in " Old Mortality," is greatly heightened by 
 the merriment with which the Duke of Lauderdale 
 exclaims, "He will make an old proverb good; for 
 he'll scarce ride to-day, though he has had his 
 boots on." 
 
 I do not, however, believe that the indifference for 
 human life which was indicated by Lord Norbury's 
 judicial mirth, was at all studied or systematic, or the 
 result of cruelty of disposition. He is naturally of a 
 gay and pleasant cast of mind ; and it is, I fancy, im- 
 
 * The objectionable practice of sending the Solicitor-General to admi- 
 nister justice as a Judge of Assize liaa long since been discontinued in 
 Ireland.
 
 LORD NORBUEY. 95 
 
 possible for him to keep ludicrous notions out. It is 
 also but justice to him to add, that his jokes were not, 
 like the Duke of Lauderdale's, at the expense of the 
 prisoner who stood aghast and dismayed before him; 
 and if they showed that he did not entertain any very 
 profound sense of the awfulness of the transition to 
 another state of existence, still, as they were not 
 directed to the culprit at the bar, his witticisms gave 
 no indications of any natural savageness of heart, from 
 which I believe him to be wholly free. His imagination 
 was hurried away by some whimsical idea, and the 
 moment a grotesque image presented itself, or a fantas- 
 tical anecdote was recalled to his recollection, he could 
 not keep it in, but let it involuntarily escape upon the 
 court. 
 
 But these vagaries did not render the administration 
 of justice in his hands less terrific ; and while he him- 
 self gave way to the merriment which he could not 
 restrain, the countenances of the crowds with which 
 the public tribunals were filled, in their fearful expres- 
 sion as well as their ghastly colour, exhibited an awful 
 contrast with his own. He could, indeed, with im- 
 punity indulge in those judicial antics amidst the 
 assemblage of pallid wretches by whom he was sur- 
 rounded; when it might be justly said, in reference to 
 them and to the moral expression of his visage and its 
 complexion, "Cum tot palloribus suflficeret saevus iste 
 vultus, atque rubor, quo se contra pudorem muniebat." 
 In his charges, too, he made ample compensation for 
 the conundrums with which he interrupted the exami- 
 nation of witnesses ; for he threw off in an instant the 
 character of a jester, resumed the terrors of his deep 
 and demmciating voice, and turning to the prisoners,
 
 96 SKETCHES OF THE BAR. 
 
 spoke of that eternity to which he was about to 
 despatch them, with an awfulness and solemnity which 
 justified Lord Clare, who objected to his being created 
 a Chief Justice, in recommending that he should enter 
 the church, and be made a bishop. 
 
 The proposition that those brows, on which the 
 black cap had been so frequently and so conspicuously 
 displayed, should be invested with a mitre, did credit 
 to Lord Clare, who, with all his partialiality for the 
 Church, was more solicitous for the dignity of the 
 Judicial than the Episcopal Bench; and had his sugges- 
 tion been adopted, Lord Norbury, attired in lawn, 
 would have proved an agreeable accession to the House 
 of Lords, and while he relieved the tedium of many a 
 weary debate with his pious jokes and his holy merri- 
 ment, he would in all likelihood have looked as appro- 
 priate a successor of the apostles as their Lordships of 
 Ossory or Kilmore. If he had been created Archbishop 
 of Dublin, what a spirit of good-humour would have 
 been infused into our polemics; how many a sacred 
 jest would have sparkled in his jovial and laughter- 
 stirring homilies ! We should have been spared a fierce 
 and unprovoked aggression on the religion of the 
 people, and should never have seen a barbed and en- 
 venomed arrow shot from behind the altar, in the shape 
 of a wanton and virulent antithesis.* Lord Norbury 
 officiating as Archbishop of Dublin, presents a pleasant 
 picture to the mind, and of a character as truly Chris- 
 tian as the reality affords. 
 
 Unfortunately, however, Lord Clare was overruled; 
 and Lord Norbury, having been created a peer, was, on 
 
 * See State of Partiet in Dublin, among the political essays in this 
 collection.
 
 LOED NORBUEY. 97 
 
 the resignation of Lord Carleton, raised to the Chief- 
 Justiceship of the Common Pleas. For some time the 
 terrors which had attended him during the rebellion, 
 continued to be associated with his name ; but at length 
 the recollections of the civil commotions in which he 
 had played so remarkable a part, began to subside his 
 energy in the cause of Government was forgotten 
 none but the ridiculous points of his character stood 
 out in any very considerable prominence, and he lost 
 even that species of respect which results from fear. 
 He was Chief Justice of the Common Pleas from the 
 year 1800, and diligently employed the whole of that 
 period in earning the reputation which he at length 
 succeeded in establishing through the empire. " Lord 
 Norbury's last joke" has long been the ordinary title to 
 a pleasant paragraph in the English newspapers ; but it 
 is right to add, in his vindication, that much has been 
 attibuted to him which does not belong to him ; and 
 many a dealer in illegitimate wit, who was ashamed of 
 acknowledging his own productions, laid his spurious 
 offspring at his Lordship's door. As he so essentially 
 contributed to the amusement of the public, he gradu- 
 ally grew into the general favour, and was held in 
 something like the reverence which is entertained by 
 the upper galleries for an eminent actor of farce. His 
 performances at Nisi Prius were greatly preferable, in 
 the decline of the Dublin stage, to any theatrical exhi- 
 bition; and, as he drew exceedingly full houses, Mr. 
 Jones began to look at him with some jealousy, and is 
 said to have been advised by Mr. Sergeant Gould, who 
 had a share in Crow-street Theatre, to file a bill for an 
 injunction against the Chief- Justice, for an infringe- 
 ment of his patent. 
 
 VOL. i. H
 
 98 SKETCHES OF THE BAR. 
 
 Lord Norbury was at the head of an excellent com- 
 pany. The spirit of the judge extended itself naturally 
 enough to the counsel; and men who were grave and 
 considerate every where else, threw off all soberness 
 and propriety, and became infected with the habits of 
 the venerable manager of the court, the moment they 
 entered the Common Pleas. His principal performers 
 were Messrs. Grady, Wallace, O'Connell, and Gould, 
 who instituted a sort of rivalry in uproar, and played 
 against each other. With such a judge, and such 
 auxiliaries to co-operate with him, some idea may be 
 formed of the attractions which were held out to that 
 numerous class who have no fixed occupation, and by 
 whom, in the hope of laughing hunger away, the Four 
 Courts are frequented in Dublin. 
 
 Long before Lord Norbury took his seat, the 
 galleries were densely filled with faces strangely ex- 
 pressive of idleness, haggardness, and humour. At 
 about eleven his Lordship's registrar, Mr. Peter 
 Jackson, used to slide in with an official leer; and a 
 little after Lord Norbury entered with a grotesque 
 waddle, and, having bowed to the Bar, cast his eyes 
 round the court. Perceiving a full house, an obvious 
 expression of satisfaction pervaded his countenance; 
 and if he saw any of his acquaintance of a noble family, 
 such as John Claudius Beresford,* who had a good deal 
 of time on his hands, in the crowd, he ordered the 
 tipstaff to make way for him, and in order, I presume, 
 to add to the dignity of the proceedings, placed him 
 beside himself on the bench. While the jury were 
 
 * Mr. John Claudius Beresford, although a branch of the noble house 
 of Waterford, was an Alderman of the Corporation of Dublin, and an 
 active tool of the Government during the Rebellion of 1798.
 
 LORD NORBURY. 99 
 
 swearing, he either nodded familiarly to most of them, 
 occasionally observing, " A most respectable man ;" or, 
 if the above-mentioned celebrated member of the house 
 of Curraghmore chanced to be next him, was engaged 
 in so pleasant a vein of whispering, that it was con- 
 jectured, from the heartiness of his laugh, that he must 
 have been talking of the recreations of the Riding- 
 house, and the amusements of 1798. The junior 
 counsel having opened the pleadings, Lord Norbury 
 generally exclaime.d, " A very promising young man ! 
 Jackson, what is that young gentleman's name?" 
 "Mr. - , my Lord." "What! of the county of 
 Cork ? I knew it by his air. Sir, you are a gentleman 
 of very high pretensions, and I protest that I have 
 never heard the money counts stated in a more dignified 
 manner in all my life ; I hope I shall find you, like the 
 paper before me, a Daily Freeman in my court."* 
 
 Having despatched the junior, whom he was sure to 
 make the luckless, but sometimes not inappropriate 
 victim of his encomiums, he suffered the leading 
 counsel to proceed. As he was considered to have a 
 strong bias towards the plaintiff, experimental attorneys 
 brought into the Common Pleas the very worst and 
 most discreditable adventures in litigation.f The 
 
 * An actual occurrence, affording a Mr sample of Lord Norbury's 
 general manner. The late Mr. Henry Deane Freeman was the gentleman 
 who underwent his Lordship's compliments. It may not be amiss to add 
 that there is a newspaper in Dublin called the Daily Freeman, to dis- 
 tinguish it from a weekly journal of the same name. 
 
 t The imputation of a bias towards the plaintiff originated in the 
 objectionable system of fees, which during the greater part of Lord 
 Norbury's career formed a portion of the judicial income. By alluring 
 suitors to his court it was possible, of course, for a judge to swell his 
 emoluments. Mr. Jackson, the officer alluded to in the text, is said to 
 
 H 2
 
 100 SKETCHES OF THE BAR. 
 
 statement of the case, therefore, generally disclosed 
 some paltry ground of action, which, however did not 
 prevent his Lordship from exclaiming in the outset, 
 " A very important action indeed ! If you make out 
 your facts in evidence, Mr. Wallace, there will be 
 serious matter for the jury." The evidence was then 
 produced ; and the witnesses often consisted of wretches 
 whose emaciated and discoloured countenances showed 
 their want and their depravity, while their watchful 
 and working eyes intimated that mixture of sagacity 
 and humour by which the lower order of Irish attcs- 
 tators is distinguished. They generally appeared in 
 coats and breeches, the external decency of which, as 
 they were hired for the occasion, was ludicrously con- 
 trasted with the ragged and filthy shirt, which Mr. 
 Henry Deane Grady, who was well acquainted with 
 "the inner man" of an Irish witness, though not 
 without repeated injunctions to unbutton, at last 
 compelled them to disclose. 
 
 The cross-examinations of this gentleman were 
 admirable pieces of the most serviceable and dexterous 
 extravagance. He was the Scarron of the Bar; and 
 few of the most practised and skilful of the horde of 
 perjurers whom he was employed to encounter, could 
 successfully withstand the exceedingly droll and comical 
 scrutiny through which he forced them to pass. He 
 
 have kept two bags under his seat in court, one for the silver in which 
 Lord Norbury's perquisites were deposited, the other for the copper in 
 which he hoarded his own more modest pickings. When the fees wen: 
 abolished, it was said that the court leaned to the plaintiff no longer, but 
 in the opposite direction. The business of the Common Pleas unquestion- 
 ably declined. The attorneys forsook it for other courts, and this un- 
 popularity continued down to a very recent period.
 
 LORD NORBURY. 101 
 
 had a sort of " Hail fellow, well met ! " manner with 
 every varlet, which enabled him to get into his heart 
 and core, until he had completely turned him inside 
 out, and excited such a spirit of mirth that the knave 
 whom he was uncovering, could not help joining in 
 the merriment which the detection of his villany had 
 produced.* 
 
 Lord Norbury, however, when he saw Mr. Grady 
 pushing the plaintiff to extremities, used to come to 
 his aid, and rally the broken recollections of the wit- 
 ness. This interposition called the defendant's counsel 
 into stronger action, and they were as vigorously en- 
 countered by the counsel on the other side. Inter- 
 ruption created remonstrance; remonstrance called 
 forth retort ; retort generated sarcasm ; and at length 
 voices were raised so loud, and the blood of the forensic 
 combatants was so warmed, that a general scene of 
 confusion, to which Lord Norbury most amply con- 
 tributed, took place. The uproar gradually increased 
 till it became tremendous ; and, to add to the tumult, 
 a question of law, which threw Lord Norbury's facul- 
 ties into complete chaos, was thrown into the conflict. 
 Mr. Grady and Mr. O'Connell shouted upon one side, 
 Mr. Wallace and Mr. Gould upon the other, and at 
 last, Lord Norbury, the witnesses, the counsel, the 
 parties, and the audience, were involved in one uni- 
 versal riot, in which it was difficult to determine 
 
 * As a specimen of Mr. Harry Dcane Grady's Nisi Prius vein, the 
 following, which O'Connell was fond of relating, is amusing. Cross- 
 examining a sailor at Cork or Limerick, Grady addressed him : 
 " You are a Swede, I believe ?" " Xo, I am not," replied the witness. 
 " Well, what are you then ?" " I am a Dane." Grady turned to the 
 
 jury Gentlemen, you hear the equivocating scoundrel Go 
 
 sir."
 
 102 SKETCHES OF tHE BAR. 
 
 whether the laughter of the audience, the exclamations 
 of the parties, the protestations of the witnesses, the 
 cries of the counsel, or the bellowing of Lord 
 Norbury, predominated. At length, however, his 
 Lordship's superiority of lungs prevailed; and, like 
 ^Eolus in his cavern, (of whom, with his puffed cheeks 
 and inflamed visage, he would furnish a painter with 
 a model,) he shouted his stormy subjects into peace.* 
 
 These scenes repeatedly occurred during the trial, 
 until at last both parties had closed, and a new exhi- 
 bition took place. This was Lord Norbury's mono- 
 logue, commonly called a charge. He usually began 
 by pronouncing the loftiest encomiums upon the party 
 in the action, against whom he intended to advise the 
 jury to give their verdict. For this the audience were 
 well prepared; and accordingly, after he had stated 
 that the defendant was one of the most honourable 
 men alive, and that he knew his father, and loved 
 him, he suddenly came with a most singular emphasis, 
 which he accompanied with a strange shake of his wig, 
 to the fatal "but," which made the audience, who 
 were in expectation of it, burst into a fit of laughter, 
 while he proceeded to charge, as he almost uniformly 
 did, in the plaintiff's favour. He then entered more 
 deeply, as he said, into the case, and, flinging his 
 judicial robe half aside, and sometimes casting off his 
 wig, started from his seat, and threw off a wild 
 harangue, in which neither law, method, nor argument 
 could be discovered. It generally consisted of narra- 
 tives connected with the history of his early life, which 
 
 * A witness, being asked one day what his occupation was, answered 
 that he kept a racket-court. " So do I," said Lord Norbury, puffing, 
 and glancing at his " company."
 
 LORD NORBURY. 103 
 
 it was impossible to associate with the subject, of jests 
 from Joe Miller, mixed with jokes of his own manu- 
 facture, and of sarcastic allusions to any of the counsel 
 who had endeavoured to check him during the trial. 
 He was exceedingly fond of quotations from Milton 
 and Shakespeare, which, however out of place, were 
 very well delivered, and evinced an excellent enuncia- 
 tion. At the conclusion of his charge, he made some 
 efforts to call the attention of the jury to any leading 
 incident which particularly struck him, but what he 
 meant it was not yery easy to conjecture; and when 
 he sat down, the whole performance exhibited a mind 
 which resembled a whirlpool of mud, in which law, 
 facts, arguments, and evidence, were lost in unfathom- 
 able confusion. 
 
 Some years ago, I remember, at the close of his 
 charges a ludicrous incident, which was a kind of 
 practical commentary, sometimes took place. A poor 
 maniac, well known about the Hall, whose name was 
 " Toby M'Cormick," had been a suitor in the Common 
 Pleas, and had lost his senses in consequence of the loss 
 of his cause. He regularly used to attend the Court, 
 to which he was attracted by an odd fantasy : Toby 
 had got it into his head that he was Lord Norbury him- 
 self, having merged all consciousness of his own sepa- 
 rate being in the strong image of his Lordship which 
 was constantly present to his mind, while, upon the 
 other hand, he took Lord Norbury for " Toby M'Cor- 
 mick ;" believing that they had made a swap of their 
 personal identities, and exchanged their existence. This 
 strange madman, at the end of Lord Norbury' s charges, 
 used to cry out, with some imitation of his manner, 
 " Find for the plaintiff!" and though not intended as
 
 104 SKETCHES OF THE BAR. 
 
 a sarcasm upon his habits, yet it was so just a satire 
 that Lord Norbury was half displeased, and, turning to 
 Peter Jackson, exclaimed, " Jackson, turn Toby M'Cor- 
 mick out of Court !" 
 
 I feel that, in the portrait which I have endeavoured 
 to draw of the late Chief- Justice of the Irish Common 
 Pleas in presiding at the Nisi Prius sittings, I have not 
 at all come up to my original. But to describe him in 
 such a way as to match the reality, would be, perhaps, 
 impossible. To conceive what he was, and his stupen- 
 dous extravagances, it would have been necessary to see 
 the " Oypioi' avro," and have witnessed the prodigy 
 itself. It is no exaggeration to say, that as the wildest 
 farce upon the stage never raised more laughter than 
 his exhibitions from the bench, neither could any writer 
 of dramatic drolleries, who should undertake to draw 
 him, embody the substantial absurdity of his character 
 in any fictitious representation. He might have defied 
 O'Keefe himself; for although his law was like Lingo's 
 Latin, yet I do not think that even O'Keefe's genius 
 for extravagance could have done Lord Norbury justice. 
 
 In his capacity of judge, sitting in full court, with his 
 three coadjutors about him, he was almost as ludicrous 
 as in his more tumultuous office of jester at Nisi Prius. 
 I remember when the Court presented, in his person 
 and in that of Judge Mayne, a most amusing and 
 laughable contrast. Never was Rochefoucault's maxim, 
 that " gravity is a mystery of the body to hide the 
 defects of the mind," more strongly exemplified than in 
 the solemn figure which sat for many years on Lord 
 Norbury's left hand, in his administration of the law. 
 By the profound stagnation of his calm and imperturb- 
 able visage, which improved on Gratiano's description
 
 LOED NORBURY. 105 
 
 of a grave man, and not more in stillness than in colour 
 resembled " a standing pool ;" by a certain shake of his 
 head, which, moving with the mechanical oscillation of 
 a wooden mandarian, made him look like the image of 
 Confucius which is plastered on the dome of the Four 
 Courts : by his long and measured sentences, which 
 issued in tones of oracular wisdom from his dry and 
 ashy lips ; by his slow and even gait, and his systematic 
 and regulated gesture, Judge Mayne had contrived, 
 when at the Bar, to impose himself as a great lawyer 
 on the public. When he was made a judge, upon the 
 day on which he for the first time took his seat, 
 Mr. Keller, one of his contemporaries, and a bitter wag, v 
 came into Court, and seeing him enthroned in his dig- 
 nity, with his scarlet robes about him, leaned over the 
 bar bench, and, after musing for some time, while he 
 stretched out his shrewd sardonic face, muttered to 
 himself, "Well, Mayne, there you are! there you 
 have been raised by your gravity, while my levity still 
 sinks me here/' 
 
 This pragmatical personage, who was considered deep, 
 while he was only dark and muddy, was fixed, as if for 
 the purposes of contrast, beside Lord Norbury, but so 
 far from diminishing the effect of his judicial drolleries, 
 the vapid melancholy of the one brought the vivacity of 
 his companion into stronger light. In truth, the solem- 
 nity of Judge Mayne was nearly as comical as Lord Nor- 
 bury's humour; and when, seeing a man enter the 
 Court who had forgotten to uncover, Judge Mayne rose 
 and said, " I see you standing there like a wild beast, 
 with your hat on," the pomp of utterance, and the 
 measured dignity with which this splendid figure in 
 Irish oratory was enunciated, excited nearly as much
 
 106 SKETCHES OP THE BAR. 
 
 merriment as the purposed jokes and the ostentatious 
 merriment of the chief of the Court. 
 
 Nothing, not even Lord Norbury, could induce his 
 brother judge to smile. His features seemed to have 
 some inherent and natural incompatibility with laugh- 
 ter, which the Momus of the bench could not remove. 
 While peals rang upon peals of merriment, and men 
 were obliged to hold their sides, lest they should burst 
 with excess of ridicule, Judge Mayne stood silent, starch, 
 and composed, and never allowed his muscles of rusty 
 iron to give way in any unmeet and extrajudicial relax- 
 ation. This union of the Allegro and Penseroso was 
 invaluable to the seekers of fun in the Common Pleas, 
 and it was with regret that the merry public were 
 informed that Judge Mayne had been advised by his 
 physicians to retire from the bench and take up his 
 residence in France. He went, I understand, to Paris, 
 where he used occasionally to walk, in the brilliant 
 afternoons of that enchanting climate, in the garden of 
 the Tuileries, and, Scott's Quentin Durward being then 
 in vogue, Judge Mayne was taken for the spectre of 
 Trois Echelles. 
 
 The place of Judge Mayne was latterly supplied by 
 a very able man and an excellent lawyer, Mr. Justice 
 Johnson; and then a scene of a different character, 
 but still exceedingly amusing, was afforded. Lord Nor- 
 bury was now most unhappily situated, for he had 
 Judge Fletcher upon one hand and Judge Johnson 
 upon the other. The former was a man of an uncom- 
 monly vigorous and brawny mind, with a rude but 
 powerful grasp of thought, and with considerable 
 acquirement, both in literature and in his profession. 
 He was destitute of all elegance, either mental or exter-
 
 LORD NOBBUEY. 107 
 
 nal, but made up for the deficiency by the massive and 
 robust character of his understanding. He had been a 
 devoted "Whig at the bar, and hated Lord Norbury for 
 his politics, while he held his intellect in contempt. 
 Dissimulation was not among his attributes, and, as his 
 indifferent health produced a great infirmity of temper, 
 (for he was the converse of what a Frenchman defines 
 as a happy man, and had a bad stomach and a good 
 heart,) he was at no pains in concealing his disrelish lor 
 his brother on the bench. Judge Johnson, who occu- 
 pied the seat on Lord Norbury 's left hand, completed 
 his misfortunes in juxtaposition. 
 
 There is nothing whatever about Judge Johnson to^ 
 be laughed at, although his bursts of temperament may 
 sometimes provoke a smile; but, in adding to Lord 
 Norbury^s calamities, he augmented the diversions of 
 the court. He was less habitually atrabilarious than 
 Judge Fletcher, whose characteristic was moroseness 
 rather than irritability, but he had an honest vehemence 
 and impetuosity about him, which, whenever his sense 
 of propriety was violated, he could not restrain. When 
 the Chief Justice, who was thus disastrously placed, 
 was giving judgment (if the olla podrida which he 
 served up for the general entertainment can be so 
 called), the spectacle derived from the aspect of his 
 brother judges, furnished a vast accession of amusement. 
 Judge Fletcher, indignant at all the absurdity which 
 was thrown up by Lord Norbury, and which bespattered 
 the bench, began expressing his disgust by the character 
 of bilious severity which spread over his countenance ; 
 of which the main characteristic was a fierce sourness 
 and a scornful discontent. Judge Johnson, on the other 
 hand, endeavoured to conceal his anger, and, placing
 
 108 SKETCHES OF THE BAR. 
 
 his elbows on the bench, and thrusting his clenched 
 hands upon his mouth, tried to stifle the indignation 
 with which, however, it was obvious that he was begin- 
 ning to tumefy. After a little while, a growl was heard 
 from Judge Fletcher, while Judge Johnson responded 
 with a groan. But, undeterred by any such gentle 
 admonition, their incomparable brother, with a desperate 
 intrepidity, held on his way. 
 
 Judge Fletcher had a habit, when exceedingly dis- 
 pleased, of rocking himself in his seat ; and, as he was 
 of a considerable bulk, his swinging, which was known 
 to be an intimation of his augmenting anger, was fami- 
 liar to the Bar. As Lord Norbury advanced, the oscil- 
 lations, accompanied with a deeper growling, described 
 a greater segment of a circle, and shook the whole 
 bench; while Judge Johnson, with his shaggy brows 
 bent and contracted over his face, and with his eyes 
 flashing with passion, used, with an occasional exclama- 
 tion of mingled indignation and disgust, to turn himself 
 violently round. Still, on Lord Norbury went ; until 
 at length Judge Fletcher, by his pendulous vibrations, 
 came with him into actual collision upon one side, and 
 Judge Johnson, by his averted shrug, hit him on the 
 shoulder upon the other, when, awakened by the simul- 
 taneous shock, his lordship gave a start, and looking 
 round the Bar, who were roaring with laughter at the 
 whole proceeding, discharged two or three puffs ; and 
 felicitating his brothers on their urbanity and good 
 manners, in revenge for their contumelious estimate of 
 his talents generally called on the tipstaff to bring him 
 a judicial convenience, and turning to the wall of the 
 court, retaliated from the bench for the aspersions which 
 they had cast upon him. From one of these two for-
 
 LORD NORBURY. 109 
 
 midable commentators he was latterly relieved, and 
 although Judge Johnson remained beside him, still, in 
 the absence of Judge Fletcher as an auxiliary, he be- 
 came latterly somewhat mitigated ; while Judge Moore, 
 during the Chief Justice's legal expositions, did no 
 more than intimate his feelings by a look of goodnatured 
 commiseration ; and Judge Torrens turned a polite and 
 fastidious smile, full of the gracefulness of the Horse 
 Guards, upon his noble and learned brother.* 
 
 Such was Lord Norbury as a judge. It remains to 
 say a few words of him as a politician. It is almost 
 unnecessary to state that with such intellectual endow^ 
 ments he did not coincide with Grattan and Curran, 
 and Plunket and Bushe, in the views which were taken 
 by those inferior persons of the interest of their country, 
 but that he agreed in principle and in feeling with 
 Dr. Duigenan, Mr. Dawson, Sir George Hill, and the 
 rest of the illustrious statesmen by whom the cause 
 of ascendancy has been so firmly and so appropriately 
 supported. Lord Norbury was an excellent and uniform 
 Protestant. This was always well known in Ireland, 
 but, his buffoonery having swollen up and concealed the 
 other traits of his character, little notice was taken of 
 his political predilections. It was, indeed, his habit to 
 deliver orations to the grand jury upon the church and 
 state on the home circuit ; and in reference to J. K. L., 
 he often poured out a tirade against " Moll Doyle," one 
 of the wild personifications of agrarian insurrection in 
 
 * Judge Torrens, who is still on the bench, is brother of the late Sir 
 Henry Torrens, who was for many years Adjutant-General and high in 
 the favour of the late Duke of York. His influence was supposed to have 
 materially helped the advancement of his relatives in Ireland both at the 
 bar and in the church.
 
 110 SKETCHES OF THE BAR. 
 
 the south of Ireland ; * but, however indecorous these 
 allusions were deemed in a Chief Justice, the people 
 were so much accustomed to laugh at his lordship, that 
 even where there was good cause for remonstrance, 
 they could not be prevailed on to regard anything he 
 did in a serious way. As " carte blanche" is given to 
 Grimaldi, the public allowed Lord Norbury an unlimited 
 licence ; and in law, politics, and religion, never placed 
 any restraint upon him. 
 
 At length, however, an event occurred which awakened 
 the general notice ; and as there was another and a very 
 obnoxious individual concerned, excited among the 
 Roman Catholics universal indignation. Lord Norbury 
 has been always remarkable for his frugality. He was 
 in the habit of stuffing papers into the old chairs in his 
 study, in order to supply the deficiency of horse-hair 
 which the incumbency of eighty years had produced in 
 their bottoms. At last, however, they became, even 
 with the aid of this occasional supplement, unfit for 
 use, and were sent by his Lordship to a shop in which 
 old furniture was advertised to be bought and sold. An 
 individual of the name of Monaghan got one of these 
 chairs into his possession, and finding it stuffed with 
 papers, drew them out. He had been a clerk in an 
 attorney's office, and knew Mr. Saurin's handwriting. 
 He perceived by the superscription of a letter, that it 
 was written by the Attorney-General, and on opening 
 it he found the following words addressed to a Chief 
 Justice, and a going judge of assize, by the principal 
 law officer of the Crown : 
 
 * The letters J. K. L., the initials of James Kildare and Leighlin, 
 formed the signature under the which the late eminent Roman Catholic 
 prelate, Dr. Doyle, published a remarkable series of letters on the state 
 of Ireland.
 
 LORD NORBURY. Ill 
 
 "Dublin Castle, August 9. 
 
 " I transcribe for you a very sensible part of Lord 
 Ross's* letter to me. ' As Lord Norbury goes our cir- 
 cuit, and as he is personally acquainted with the gentle- 
 men of our county, a hint to him may be of use. He is 
 in the habit of talking individually to them in his 
 chamber at Philipstown ; and if he were to impress on 
 them the consequence of the measure, viz., that how- 
 ever they may think otherwise, the Catholics would, in 
 spite of them, elect Catholic members, (if such were 
 eligible,) that the Catholic members would then have 
 the nomination of sheriffs, and, in many instances^ 
 perhaps of the judges ; and the Protestants would be 
 put in the back-ground, as the Protestants were 
 formerly; I think he would bring the effect of the 
 measure home to themselves, and satisfy them that 
 
 * Lord Eoss, who advises Mr. Saurin to adopt the course which he so 
 faithfully pursued, was once Sir Laurence Parsons, and was in the habit 
 of speaking in the Irish House of Commons in favour of Emancipation. 
 He was not only an orator, but a poet. In the appendix to the first 
 volume of Wolfe Tone's Memoirs, a poem is inserted, which would have 
 entitled him to the place of Laureat to the United Irishman. The 
 following are the opening lines : 
 
 " How long, Slavery ! shall thine iron mace 
 Wave o'er this isle, and crouch its abject race ? 
 Full many a dastard century we've bent 
 Beneath thy terrors, wretched and content. ' 
 
 What though with haughty arrogance of pride 
 England shall o'er this long-duped country stride,' 
 And lay on stripe on stripe, and shame on shame, 
 And brand to all eternity its name : 
 
 'Tis right, well done, bear all and more, I say, 
 
 Nay, ten times more, and then for more still pray ! 
 
 What state in something would not foremost bo ? 
 
 She tries for fame, thou for servility." A.
 
 112 SKETCHES OF THE BAR. 
 
 they could scarcely submit to live in the country if it 
 were passed/ So far Lord Ross. But he suggests in 
 another part of his letter, 'that if Protestant gentle- 
 men, who have votes and influence and interest, would 
 give these venal members to understand that if they 
 will purchase Catholic votes by betraying their country 
 and it sconstitution, they shall infallibly lose theirs ; it 
 would alter their conduct, though it could neither make 
 them honest or respectable/ If you will judiciously 
 administer (//) a little of this medicine to the King's 
 County, and other members of Parliament, that may 
 fall in your way, you will deserve well. Many thanks 
 for your letter, and its good intelligence from Mary- 
 borough. Jebb is a most valuable fellow, and of the 
 sort that is most wanted. 
 
 "Affectionately and truly yours, 
 
 "WILLIAM SAURIN." 
 
 When this letter was first disclosed, it was vehemently 
 asserted by Mr. Saurin's friends, that a man of his fame 
 and constitutional principles could not have written it, 
 and they alleged that it was a mere fabrication; but 
 afterwards, when the handwriting was perceived to be 
 indisputable, and the author of the letter did not dare 
 to deny its authenticity, Mr. Peel, and the other advo- 
 cates of Mr. Saurin, contented themselves with exclaim- 
 ing against the mere impropriety of its production. 
 From this ground of imputation they were, however, 
 effectually driven by Mr. Brougham,* when he called to 
 
 * Mr. Brougham laid a trap for Mr. Peel. The writer of this article 
 was told, upon good authority, that he introduced Mr. Saurin's letter into 
 the debate, in order to allure Mr. Peel into a censure of the use which had 
 been made of it. The latter fell into the snare, and the moment he began
 
 LORD XORBURY. 113 
 
 the Minister's recollection, and especially to that of the 
 Secretary for the Home Department, whom it chiefly 
 concerned, the foul means adopted to get at evidence 
 against the Queen. Since that time we have heard no 
 more of the violation of all good feeling in the Catholics, 
 when they availed themselves of a document in the 
 handwriting of an Attorney-General, in order to establish 
 the fact which had been frequently insisted on, that 
 poison had been poured into the highest sources of jus- 
 tice. The moral" indignation of Protestants has sub- 
 sided, but they have not recovered from their astonish- 
 ment, that a man so cautious and deliberate as Mr. 
 Saurin, should have put himself in the power of such a 
 person as Lord Norbury, and entrusted him with a 
 communication, which has eventually proved so fatal to 
 himself. . 
 
 The discovery of this letter has been of use to Lord 
 Norbury. "When his incompetence in his office was 
 mentioned in Parliament, the Orange faction considered 
 themselves bound by that principle of fidelity to each 
 other, by which, to do them justice, they are charac- 
 terised, to support a very zealous, if not a very respect- 
 able partisan ; and accordingly Mr. Goulburn, with the 
 effrontery which distinguished him, pronounced a pane- 
 gyric on his judicial excellencies, and stated (to the 
 great and just indignation of the other Judges of the 
 Common Pleas) that in a difficult and complicated case 
 he had evinced more knowledge and astuteness than 
 any of them. To this encomium Mr. Peel, with all his 
 
 to inveigh against the production of the letter, Mr. Brougham, who had 
 been intently and impatiently watching him, slapped his knee, and cried, 
 " I have him \" 
 
 VOL. I. I
 
 114 SKETCHES OF THE BAR. 
 
 manliness, and although, he values himself on his refor- 
 mation of the abuses of justice, gave his sanction. 
 
 Lord Norbury, finding himself sustained by his party 
 in the House of Commons, turned a deaf ear to all 
 private solicitations, of which his resignation was the 
 object. At length Mr. O'Connell presented a petition 
 for his removal, setting forth, among other grounds, 
 that he had fallen asleep during the trial of a murder 
 case, and was unable to give any account of the evi- 
 dence, when called on for his notes by the Lord Lieu- 
 tenant.* Mr. Scarlett, to whom the petition was 
 entrusted, did not move upon it, in consequence of a 
 personal assurance from Mr. Peel, that he would do 
 everything in his power to induce him, of his own 
 accord, to retire. For although Mr. Peel ostensibly 
 defended him as a friend and partisan, yet he was, in 
 reality, ashamed of such an incubus upon the Bench. 
 Lord Norbury at last went so far as to intimate that he 
 would consult his friends on the subject, and required a 
 reasonable time to do so, which was accordingly granted. 
 After the lapse of a month, Mr. Goulburn called again 
 to know the result of his deliberations, when his Lord- 
 ship stated that Lord Combermere was his most parti- 
 
 * In Mr. O'Connell's petition it was further stated, that in a case 
 where six persons were on their trial, Lord Norbnry had also slumbered. 
 The counsel for the prosecution requested the jury to take notes of the 
 evidence, that they might inform the judge when he awoke ! It was 
 in the conversation on this petition that Mr. Goulburn eulogized Lord 
 Norbury's legal abilities. Mr. Peel seems to have only vouched for the 
 purity of his judicial conduct (which was not impeached), adding that 
 " he was proud to call the learned lord his friend." Mr. North, upon 
 the same occasion, bore witness to the general truth of the allegations of 
 Mr. O*Connell, but " not for worlds would he have brought the subject 
 forward himself."
 
 LORD NORBURY. 115 
 
 cular friend, and that he had written to him at Calcutta.* 
 Mr. Goulburn, finding himself thus evaded, and being 
 conscious that he was as well qualified at eighty-six as 
 he had ever been, (for no increased hallucination is per- 
 ceptible about him,) was a good deal at a loss what to 
 do. But suddenly Mr. Canning became Lord of the 
 Ascendant ; and Lord Norbury, who never wanted 
 sagacity, feeling that under the new system he could not 
 expect the support of ministers, wisely came into terms ; 
 and having stipulated for an earldom, as a considera- 
 tion, resigned in favour of Lord Plunket, who, like an 
 unskilful aeronaut, has made a bad descent into the 
 Common Pleas. 
 
 Thus had this man, without talent, or knowledge, or 
 any thing to recommend him beyond his personal and 
 animal spirit, to the favour of Government, raised 
 himself to a high station on the Bench, which he en- 
 joyed for seven and twenty years ; and now, laden with 
 wealth, effects his retreat through a loftier grade of 
 the peerage. He has accumulated an immense fortune, 
 partly from the lucrative offices of which he was so 
 long in the enjoyment, and partly through his rigid 
 economy. I ought not, however, to omit that, parsi- 
 monious as his habits are, still they do not prevent 
 him from exercising the best kind of charity, for he is 
 an excellent landlord. In his dealings with his in- 
 feriors too, (I gladly avail myself of the opportunity of 
 bestowing on him such praise as he deserves,) he is 
 kind and considerate ; and towards his domestics is a 
 
 * As this story is commonly told, Lord Norbury stated that he had 
 also written for the advice of Sir E. Parry, who was then out upon one 
 of his polar expeditions. 
 
 I 2
 
 116 SKETCHES OF THE BAR. 
 
 gentle and forbearing master. In his deportment to 
 the Bar, too, he was undeviatingly polite, and never 
 forgot that he was himself a member of the profession, 
 on which the recollection of every judge should forbid 
 him to trample. 
 
 In private society he is a most agreeable, although a 
 very grotesque companion. He is not wholly destitute 
 of literature; having a great memory, he is fond of 
 repeating passages from the older poets, which he re- 
 cites with propriety and force. Of modern authors he 
 is wholly ignorant, nor is a new book to be found in 
 his library. His study presents, indeed, a curious 
 spectacle. In the centre of the room lies a heap of 
 old papers, covered with dust, mingled with political 
 pamphlets, written some forty years ago, together with 
 an odd volume of the " Irish Parliamentary Debates," 
 recording the speeches of Mr. Serjeant Toler. On the 
 shelves, which are half empty, and exhibit a most 
 " beggarly account," there are some forty moth-eaten 
 law-books; and by their side appear odd volumes of 
 " Peregrine Pickle," and " Roderick Random," with 
 the "Newgate Calendar" complete. A couple of 
 worn-out saddles, with rusty stirrups, hang from the 
 top of one of the book-cases, which are enveloped with 
 cobwebs ; and a long line of veteran boots, of mouldy 
 leather, are arrayed on the opposite side of the room. 
 King William's picture stands over the chimney-piece, 
 with prints of Eclipse and other celebrated racers, 
 from which his Lordship's politics and other predi- 
 lections may be collected. 
 
 He was a remarkably good horseman, and even now 
 always appears well mounted in the streets. A servant,
 
 LORD NORBURY. 117 
 
 dressed in an ancient livery, rides close beside him; 
 and by his very proximity and care, assists a certain 
 association with loneliness which has begun to attend 
 him. He has, in truth, assumed of late a very dreary 
 and desolate aspect. When he rode to Court, as he 
 did every day while a Judge, he exhibited, for his time 
 of life, great alacrity and spirit ; and as he passed by 
 Mr. Joy, whom he looked upon as his probable suc- 
 cessor, putting spurs to his horse, he cantered rapidly 
 along. But now "he is without occupation or pursuit, 
 and looks alone in the world. His gaiety is gone, and 
 when he stops an old acquaintance in the street to^ 
 enquire how the world wags, his voice and manner 
 exhibit a certain wandering and oblivion, while his 
 face seems at once dull, melancholy, and abstracted. 
 Sometimes he rides beyond Dublin, and is to be met in 
 lonely and unfrequented roads, looking as if he was 
 musing over mournful recollections, or approaching to 
 a suspension of all thought. 
 
 Not many days ago, on my return to town from a 
 short excursion in the country, as the evening drew on, 
 I saw him riding near a cemetery, while the chill 
 breezes of October were beginning to grow bitter, and 
 the leaves were falling rapidly from the old and 
 withered trees in the adjoining church -yard. The 
 wind had an additional bleakness as it blew over the 
 residences of the dead ; and although it imparted to 
 his red and manly cheeks a stronger flush, still, as it 
 stirred his grey locks, it seemed with its wintry mur- 
 murs to whisper to the old man a funeral admonition. 
 He appeared, as he urged on his horse and tried to 
 hurry from so dismal a scene, to shrink and huddle
 
 118 SKETCHES OF THE BAR. 
 
 himself from the blast. In anticipation of an event, 
 which cannot be remote, (while I forgot all his political 
 errors, and only remembered how often he had beguiled 
 a tedious hour, and set the Four Courts in a roar ; ) 
 I could not help muttering, as I passed him, with some 
 feeling of regret, " Alas, poor Yorick I"
 
 119 
 
 THE CATHOLIC BAR. 
 
 [FPBEUAEY, 1827.] 
 
 UPON the first day of last Michaelmas term eight 
 gentlemen were called to the Bar, of whom four were 
 Roman Catholics. This was a kind of event in the 
 Hall of the Four Courts, and in the lack of any other 
 matter of interest, produced a species of excitation. 
 There are two assortments of oaths, one for Catholics, 
 and another for Protestants, upon their admission to 
 the Bar. The latter still enter their protestations, in 
 the face of Lord Manners and of Heaven, against the 
 damnable idolatry of the Church of Rome. But when 
 the more mitigated oath provided for the Roman 
 Catholics happens to be rehearsed on the first day of 
 term, it is easy to perceive an expression of disrelish 
 in the countenance of the Court ; and although it is 
 impossible for Lord Manners to divest himself of that 
 fine urbanity which belongs to his birth and rank, yet 
 hi the bow with which he receives the aspiring papist, 
 there are evident symptoms of constraint; and it is 
 by a kind of effort even in his features that they are 
 wrought into an elaborated smile. It does not fre-
 
 120 SKETCHES OF THE BAR. 
 
 quently happen that more than one or tvro- Roman 
 Catholics are called in any single term; and when 
 Lord Manners heard four several shocks given to the 
 Constitution, and the Roman Catholic qualification- 
 oath coming again and again upon him, it is not 
 wonderful that his composure should have been dis- 
 turbed, and that the loyal part of the Bar should have 
 caught the expression of dismay. Mr. Serjeant Lefroy, 
 alarmed at the repeated omissions of those pious 
 denunciations of the Virgin Mary, by which the laws 
 and liberty of these countries are sustained, in the very 
 act of putting a fee into his pocket, lifted up his eyes 
 to Heaven ; and it is rumoured that another letter to 
 my Lord Norbury has been discovered, in which the 
 writer protests his belief, that the Bar will soon be 
 reduced to its condition in the reign of James the 
 Second. 
 
 In the reign of James the Second Roman Catholic 
 barristers were raised to office ; and, as the time appears 
 to be at hand when they will be rendered eligible by 
 law to hold places of distinction and of trust, it is worth 
 our while to examine in what way they conducted 
 themselves when, in the short interval of their political 
 prosperity, Roman Catholics were invested with autho- 
 rity. Doctor King says, that "no sooner had the 
 Papists got judges and juries that would believe them, 
 but they began a trade of swearing and ripping up 
 what they pretended their Protestant neighbours had 
 said of King James, whilst Duke of York;" and 
 proceeds to charge them with gross corruption in the 
 administration of justice. The Doctor was Archbishop 
 of Dublin. He had originally been a sizar in the 
 university; and having afterwards obtained a fellow-
 
 THE CATHOLIC fiAR. 121 
 
 ship, gradually raised himself, by dint of sycophancy 
 and intrigue, to one of the richest sees in the richest 
 establishment in the world. Whether he exhibited all 
 the arrogance of a Pontifical parvenu ; whether he was 
 at once a haughty priest and a consecrated jackanapes ; 
 whether he was a sophist in his creed, an equivocator 
 in his statements, and a cobweb-weaver in his theology; 
 whether he had a vain head, a niggard hand, and a 
 false and servile heart, and betrayed the men who 
 raised him, I have not been able to determine. He 
 appears to have been an apostate in his politics. His 
 representation of the conduct of the Catholic judges in 
 his time is not without some episcopal characteristics, 
 and justifies what Leslie says of him : " Though many 
 things the archbishop says are true, yet he has hardly 
 spoken a true word without a warp." The best and 
 most incontrovertible evidence (that of Lord Claren- 
 don, the Lord-Lieutenant, and a firm Protestant) can 
 be adduced to show how widely the statements of Doctor 
 King vary from the fact.* 
 
 * The tract of Archbishop King alludal to was entitled The State of 
 {he Protestants of Ireland under the late King James's Government, 
 and published in 1691. Very different judgments were pronounced upon 
 this book by eminent men. Burnet describes it thus : " So universally 
 acknowledgcd to be as truly as it is finely written, that I refer my 
 readers to the account of those matters which is fully and faithfully given 
 by that learned and zealous prelate." Archbishop King's fame, however, 
 does not rest upon his political treatises, but on his work DC Orijine 
 Mali, which attracted the notice of all the philosophers of Europe, was 
 criticised by Bayle, and pronounced by Leibnitz a work full of elegance 
 and learning. The letters of King are among the most elegant of Swift's 
 correspondence. By one, in which he counselled his friend to give up 
 literary trifling, "look into Dr. Wilkins's heads of matters in his Gift of 
 Preaching, select some serious subject, and manage it so as to be of use 
 to the world," Swift was extremely and not unjustly offended. Had he
 
 122 SKETCHES OP THE BAB. 
 
 Lord Clarendon tells us that "when the Popish 
 judges went to the assizes in the counties of Down 
 and Londonderry, where many considerable persons 
 were to be tried for words formerly spoken against 
 King James, they took as much pains as it was possible 
 to quiet the minds of the people wherever they went; 
 and that they took care to have all the juries mingled, 
 half English and half Irish." (State Letters, vol. i. 
 p. 326.) " Judge Daly," he says, " one of the Popish 
 judges, did, at the assizes of the county of Meath, 
 enlarge much upon the unconscionableness of inditing 
 men for words spoken so many years before; and 
 thereupon the jurors, the major part of whom were 
 Irish, acquitted them ;" and he adds, that, " Mr. Justice 
 Nugent, another Popish judge, made the same decla- 
 ration at Drogheda, where several persons were tried 
 for words." Lord Clarendon further states, that he 
 was in the habit of consulting Roman Catholics, who 
 had been recently promoted, respecting the appoint- 
 ment of mayors, sheriffs, and common-council men. 
 "I advise," he says, "with those who are best ac- 
 quainted in these towns, particularly with Justice Daly, 
 and others of the King's council of that persuasion; 
 and the lists of names these men give me are always 
 equal, half English half Irish, which, they say, is the 
 best way to make them unite and live friendly together." 
 (State Letters, vol. ii. p. 319.) 
 
 In the first volume of the State Letters, p. 292, he 
 says, " At the council-board, there was a complaint 
 proved against a justice of the peace ; and it is remark- 
 written a character of the Archbishop, while smarting under his provoking 
 candour, he could scarcely have been more bitter than Mr. Shell, with 
 only an historical cause of irritation.
 
 THE CATHOLIC BAB. 123 
 
 able that several of our new Roman Catholic coun- 
 sellors, though the justice was an Englishman and a 
 Protestant, were for putting off the business; and 
 particularly the three said Popish judges said, the 
 gentleman would be more careful for the future." He 
 adds that " when the Popish judges were made privy- 
 counsellors, they conducted themselves with singular 
 modesty," a precedent which I have no doubt that 
 Mr. Blake will follow, when he shall be elevated to the 
 vice-regal cabinet,* 
 
 Of the Roman Catholics, who were promoted in the 
 reign of James the Second, Sir Theobald Butler, of 
 whom such frequent mention has been recently made 
 in the House of Commons, was by far the most dis- 
 tinguished. He was created Attorney-General, and 
 discharged the duties of his office with perfect fairness 
 and impartiality.f This very able, and, as far as 
 renown can be obtained in Ireland, this celebrated 
 
 * Mr. Blake, who held the office of Chief Remembrancer, and of 
 whom some account will be found in another place, was introduced into 
 the Irish Privy Council in 1837, and conducted himself as well there as 
 the most " modest" of the Popish judges commended by Lord Clarendon. 
 (See the papers on The State of Parties in Dublin.) The Government 
 was slow in conferring on Roman Catholics the honours and appointments 
 which the Emancipation Act made them capable of receiving. Five years 
 after that measure was passed (in September, 1834), we find Lord 
 Wellesley writing to the Minister of the day " I would also appoint 
 some Catholics of distinctinction to the Privy Council. This would be a 
 commencement which I can venture to assure your Lordship would be 
 safe, and most satisfactory to the whole Catholic body of Ireland." 
 
 Though Mr. Sheil calls the Privy Council " the Viceregal Cabinet," it 
 is scarcely necessary to observe that the Council does not share the 
 responsibilities of the Irish Administration with the Lord Lieutenant. 
 Lord Wellesley's parody on " VEtat, c'ett moi," is well known " The 
 Government, Sir ! I am the Government." 
 
 t Butler was not Attorney- General : he was only Solicitor.
 
 124 SKETCHES OF THE BAR. 
 
 man, was not only without an equal, but without a 
 competitor in his profession. Although the reputation 
 of a lawyer is almost of necessity evanescent, yet such 
 was the impression produced by his extraordinary 
 abilities, that his name is to this day familiarly referred 
 to. This permanence in the national recollection is in 
 a great measure to be attributed to the very important 
 part which he took in politics, and especially in the 
 negotiation of the treaty of Limerick. His high rank, 
 also, for he was a member of the great house of 
 Ormond, added to his influence. As far as I have 
 been able to form an estimate of his intellectual 
 qualities, from such notices of him as occur in the 
 writers of the time, and from the speech which he 
 delivered at the bar of the Irish House of Commons, 
 he was more remarkable for strength, brevity, con- 
 densation, and great powers of argument, than for any 
 extraordinary faculty of elocution. The speech to 
 which I have adverted, has none of those embellish- 
 ments of rhetoric, and those splendid vices in oratory, 
 to which the school of Irish eloquence became subse- 
 quently addicted. 
 
 The whole of this oration is cast in a syllogistic 
 mould, and exhibits too much logical apparatus. It was, 
 I believe, the fashion of the time : still the vehemence 
 of passion breaks through the artificial regularity of 
 reasoning, and while he is proceeding with a series of 
 propositions, systematically divided, the indignant emo- 
 tions, which the injuries of his country could not fail to 
 produce, burst repeatedly and abundantly out : in the 
 midst of all the pedantic forms of scholastic disputation, 
 Nature asserts her dominion; he gives a loose to anguish, 
 and pours forth his heart.
 
 THE CATHOLIC BAR. 125 
 
 Sir Theobald Butler had not only been among the 
 besieged Catholics at Limerick, but was employed by 
 his countrymen to settle the articles of capitulation. 
 His name appears on the face of the treaty as one of the 
 parties with whom, on behalf of the Irish, it was con- 
 cluded. When in the year 1703, only twelve years 
 after the articles had been signed, a bill (the first link 
 of the penal code) was introduced into parliament, the 
 effect of which was utterly to abrogate those articles, 
 the eyes of the whole nation were turned upon the man 
 who had been instrumental in effecting that great 
 nationaj arrangement. Independently of his great 
 abilities as an advocate, he presented in his own person 
 a more immediate and distinct perception of that injus- 
 tice which was about to be exercised against the body 
 of which he was the ornament, and to which his elo- 
 quence now afforded their only refuge. 
 
 In a book entitled "An Account of the Debates on 
 the Popery Laws," it is stated that the Papists of 
 Ireland, observing that the House of Commons was 
 preparing the heads of a bill to be transmitted to 
 England to be drawn into an act to prevent the growth 
 of Popery, and having in vain endeavoured to put a 
 stop to it there, at its remittance back to Ireland pre- 
 sented to the House of Commons a petition praying to 
 be heard by their counsel against the bill, and to have 
 a copy of the bill, and to have a reasonable time to 
 speak to it before it passed, when it was ordered that 
 they should be heard. 
 
 Upon Tuesday, the 22nd of February, 1703, Sir 
 Theobald Butler appeared at the bar, and, with the 
 treaty of Limerick in his hand, requested, on behalf of 
 the Irish Roman Catholics, to be heard. It must have
 
 126 SKETCHES OF THE BAR. 
 
 been a very remarkable scene. Whether we consider 
 the assembly to which the remonstrance was addressed, 
 or the character and condition of the body on whose 
 behalf it was spoken, whose leading nobles, and they 
 were then numerous, stood beside their advocate at the 
 bar of the House, we cannot but feel our minds im- 
 pressed with a vivid image of a most imposing, and in 
 some particulars a very moving spectacle. The first 
 advocate of his time, who was himself a principal party 
 in the cause which he came to plead, stood before a 
 Protestant House of Commons; while below the bar 
 were assembled about their counsel the heads, of the 
 Roman Catholic aristocracy. The latter constituted a 
 much more extensive and differently constituted class 
 of men from those by whom they have been succeeded. 
 They had been born to wealth and honour : they had 
 been induced, by a sentiment of chivalrous devotion, to 
 attach themselves to the fortunes of an unhappy prince. 
 The source of their calamities was in a lofty sentiment. 
 Almost all of them had been soldiers ; scarce a man of 
 them but had carried harness on his back. They were 
 actuated by the high and gallant spirit which belongs 
 to the profession of arms. On the banks of the Boyne, 
 on the hill of Aughrim, and at the gates of Limerick, 
 they had given evidences of valour, which, although 
 unavailing, was not the less heroic. They had been 
 worsted, indeed ; but they had not been subdued : they 
 had been accustomed to consider their priviliges as 
 secured by a great compact, and in substituting the 
 honour of England for the bastions of Limerick, they 
 looked upon their liberties as protected by still more 
 impregnable muniments. 
 
 It is easy to imagine the dismay, the indignation, and
 
 THE CATHOLIC BAR. 127 
 
 the anguish with which these gentlemen must have seen 
 a statute in rapid progress through the legislature, which 
 would not only have the effect of violating the treaty of 
 Limerick, and reduce them to a state of utter servitude, 
 but, by holding out the estate of the father as a premium 
 for the apostacy of the child, would inculcate a revolt 
 against the first instincts of nature, and the most sacred 
 ordinances of God. Their advocate, at least, saw the 
 penal code in this light. " Is not this," he exclaimed, 
 " against the laws of God and man, against the rules of 
 reason and justice ; is not this the most effectual way in 
 the world to make children become undutiful, and to 
 bring the grey head of the parent to the grave with 
 grief and tears ?" In speaking thus, he did no more 
 than give vent to the feelings which, being himself a 
 father, he must have deeply experienced ; and the heart 
 of every parent whose cause he was pleading, must have 
 been riven by their utterance. 
 
 If there was something imposing in the sight of so 
 many of the old Catholic nobility of Ireland, of so many 
 gallant soldiers, gathered round their counsel in a group 
 of venerable figures, (for most of those who had fought 
 in the civil wars were now old,) the assembly to which 
 they were come to offer their remonstrances must have 
 also presented a very striking spectacle. The Irish 
 House of Commons represented a victorious and trium- 
 phant community. Pride, haughtiness, and disdain, the 
 arrogance of conquest, the appetite of unsatisfied re- 
 venge, the consciousness of masterdom, and the deter- 
 mination to employ it, must have given this fierce and 
 despotic convention a very marked character. Most of 
 its members, as well as their Roman Catholic suppli- 
 cants, had been soldiers; and to the gloom of Puritanism,
 
 128 SKETCHES OF THE BAR. 
 
 to which they were still prone, they united a martial 
 and overbearing sternness, and exhibited the flush 
 of victory on their haughty and commanding 
 aspect.* 
 
 To this day, there are some traces of lugubrious 
 peculiarity in the descendants of the Cromwellian 
 settlers in Ireland ; at the period of which I speak, the 
 children of the pious adventurers must have exhibited 
 still deeper gloom of visage, and a darker severity of 
 brow. In addressing an assembly so constituted, and 
 in surveying which an ordinary man would have quailed, 
 Sir Theobald Butler had to perform a high and arduous 
 duty. How must he have felt, when, advancing to the 
 bar of the House, he threw his eyes around him, and be- 
 held before him the lurid looks and baleful countenances 
 of the Protestant conquerors of his country, and saw 
 beside him the companions of his youth, the associates of 
 his early life, many of them his own kindred, all of them 
 his fellow-sufferers, clinging to him as to their only 
 stay, and substituting his talents for the arms which he 
 had persuaded them to lay down ! The men whom he 
 had seen working the cannon at the batteries of 
 Limerick, stood now with no other safeguard but his 
 eloquence, at the mercy of those whom they had 
 fought in the breach and encountered in the field. An 
 orator of antiquity mentions that he never rose to 
 speak upon an important occasion without a tremor: 
 when the advocate of a whole people rose in the 
 deep hush of expectation, and in all that thrilling 
 silence which awaits the first words of a great public 
 speaker, how must his heart have throbbed ! 
 
 * We are reminded of the members of the " Legion Club," a quarter 
 of a century later.
 
 THE CATHOLIC BAR. 129 
 
 Sir Theobald Butler's speech (I dwell thus long upon 
 the subject, because the event which produced it has 
 been attended with such important consequences, and 
 the arguments of the Roman Catholic Barrister have 
 lately excited a good deal of parliamentary notice,*) 
 comprehends almost every reason which can be pressed 
 against the enactment of the penal code, as a violation 
 of public faith. He did not however confine himself to 
 mere reasoning upon the subject, but made an attempt 
 to touch the feelings of his Protestant auditors. He 
 has drawn a strong and simple picture of the domestic 
 effects of the penal code in the families of Roman 
 Catholics, by transferring the estate of the father to 
 his renegade son. " That the law should invest any 
 man with the power of depriving his fellow-subject of 
 his property would be a grievance. But my son my 
 child the fruit of my body, whom I have nursed in 
 my bosom, and loved more dearly than my life to 
 become my plunderer, to rob me of my estate, to take 
 away my bread, to cut my throat it is enough to 
 make the most flinty heart bleed to think on it. For 
 God's sake, gentlemen, make the case your own," &c.f 
 
 * In the debate of 1825, on the motion of Sir Francis Burdett for a 
 Committee on the Catholic Claims. He described the infraction of the 
 Treaty of Limerick as " a dreary and disgraceful passage in the history 
 of Ireland." In the discussion of 1828, Sir Francis went still more 
 fully and elaborately into the question. 
 
 f Extracts from Sir Theobald Butler's speech were given about a year 
 ago in the Etoile newspaper, which in a series of articles on Ireland con- 
 tributed to produce that calculation upon the feelings of the Roman 
 Catholic body recently evidenced in the debates of the French parliament. 
 The following is the translation of the passage referred to, which appeared 
 in the Etoile : " Grand Dicu ! est-ce que cette loi feroce n'est pas une 
 VOL. I. K
 
 130 SKETCHES OF THE BAR. 
 
 This adjuration exhibits no art of phrase, but it has 
 nature, which, as was observed by Dryden of Otway's 
 plays, is after all the greatest beauty. Those simple 
 words, which contained so much truth, cannot be read 
 without emotion ; but how far greater must have been 
 their effect when uttered by a parent, who was lifting 
 up his voice to protect the sanctuaries of nature against 
 violation. In what tone must a father have exclaimed, 
 "it would be hard from any man, but from my son, 
 my child, the fruit of my body, whom I have nursed in 
 my bosom ! " Surely in the utterance of this appeal, 
 not by a mere mercenary artificer of passion, but by a 
 man whom everybody knew to be speaking the truth, 
 and whose trembling hands and quivering accents must 
 have borne attestation to his emotions, the sternest and 
 most resolved of his judges must have relented, and, 
 
 reVolte centre la loi primitive de la nature, qni est gravee par Dien lui- 
 im'-iur dans le coeur human i ? Un code qui donnerait a qui quo ce soit 
 le droit detestable de me priver Acs mes biens k cause de ma croyance 
 dans la religion de mes peres smut tyrannique et execrable. Mais inons 
 fils, mon enfant, le fruit de mon propre corps, celui a qui j'ai donne une 
 vie plus chere que la mienne, et qui porte mon sang dans son cceur ! que 
 mon fils soit 1'instrument fatal de ce code de brigands, que ce soit lui qui 
 me perce le sein, qui me plonge un poignard dans le coeur, qui me pousse 
 avec mes chevaux blancs dans la tombe ! Vous Protestants que vous 
 e'tes, montrez qne vous fites hommes, et songez que vous achetez des 
 proselytes par des moyens qui font horreur & la nature, et dont la seule 
 pens(?e fait navrer le cceur d'un p&re."* A. 
 
 * The articles in the Etoile (afterwards the Gazette de Prance), were 
 the productions of Mr. Sheil himself, who was an excellent French 
 scholar, and wrote the language with ease and correctness. They attracted 
 considerable attention in Paris, and had an important reaction upon the 
 Government in England. ED.
 
 THE CATHOLIC BAR. 13] 
 
 like the evil spirit at the contemplation of all the 
 misery he was about to inflict, 
 
 "for the time remained 
 Of enmity disarmed." 
 
 And if the hearts of the Protestant confiscators were 
 touched, did not the tears roll down the faces of the 
 unfortunate Catholics who stood by did they not turn 
 to sob in the bosom of their children, and clasping 
 them in their arms inquire, in the dumb eloquence of 
 that parental embrace, " whether they would ever strike 
 the poignard with which the law was about to arm 
 them, into their breasts?" Their advocate did not, 
 however, merely appeal to the sensibilities of his audi- 
 tors, but swept his hand over strings by which a still 
 deeper vibration must have been produced. 
 
 He assumed a loftier and a bolder tone. He raised 
 himself up to the full height of his mind, and appealing 
 to the principles of eternal truth and justice, denounced 
 the vengeance of Heaven on those who should be so 
 basely perfidious as to violate a great and sacred com- 
 pact; and was sufficiently courageous to remind a 
 Protestant House of Commons that the treaty of 
 Limerick had been signed, "when the Catholics had 
 swords in their hands." This was a stirring sentence, 
 and sent many a heart-thrilling recollection into the 
 hearts of those to whom it was addressed. The prince 
 of the conquerors must have started, and the conquered 
 must have looked upon hands in which there were 
 swords no more. 
 
 It is recorded of an ancient orator, that he exercised 
 over the minds of his hearers an influence so powerful, 
 
 K 2
 
 132 SKETCHES OF THE BAR. 
 
 that his description of a battle was interrupted by the 
 exclamation of a soldier who had been present at the 
 engagement, and whom the spell of eloquence had 
 carried back to the field. Even at this day, every 
 reference to the siege of Limerick produces an extra- 
 ordinary excitation in Roman Catholic assemblies ;* 
 and if the descendants of those whose rights were 
 secured by the treaty of Limerick, recur with indigna- 
 tion to the incidents of that celebrated siege, to what a 
 point of excitement must the gallant cavaliers by whom 
 the advocate of the Irish nation was surrounded, have 
 been wrought, when he, who was himself a party to that 
 great national indenture, with that deep and solemn 
 tone and that lofty gravity of demeanour for which he 
 was remarkable, recalled the events in which almost 
 every man who heard him had borne a conspicuous part. 
 It is in the remembrance of such scenes that memory 
 may be justly called "the actor of our passions o'er 
 again." 
 
 I do not think that I am guilty of any exaggeration 
 when I say, that in appealing to the time when tha 
 Roman Catholics had arms in their hands, the advocate 
 of their rights and the representative of their emotions 
 must have brought back many a martial recollection 
 to the clients, in whose front he stood, and whose 
 cause he was so emphatically pleading. The city, from 
 which William at its first siege, with an army of thirty 
 thousand men, had been driven back the fortress 
 which art and nature had conspired to make strong, 
 
 * On several occasions, during his career of agitation, Mr. Sheil availed 
 himself powerfully of this exciting topic.
 
 THE CATHOLIC BAB. 133 
 
 and which valour and constancy would have rendered 
 impregnable, must have risen before them. All the 
 glorious circumstance incidental to their former occu- 
 pation must have returned. The shout of battle, the 
 roar of the cannon, the bloody fosse, the assault and the 
 repulse, the devotion and abandonment with which 
 whole regiments rushed through the gates, and preci- 
 pitated themselves into imaginary martyrdom Sars- 
 field upon the battlements, the green flag floating from 
 the citadel, and the cry of " Help from France ! " 
 these must have been among the recollections which 
 were awakened by their advocate, while he appealed ta 
 the time " when they had arms in their hands," and 
 stood in the fire of their batteries, and not at the 
 threshold of the House of Commons. 
 
 But if the sentiment of martial pride was rekindled 
 for an instant, how quickly it must have gone out, 
 and how soon those emotions must have collapsed into 
 despair. They must have known, for the countenances 
 of their victors must have apprised them, that they had 
 nothing to expect but servitude and all the shame that 
 follows it ; and then indeed they must have mourned 
 over the day, when at the head of a powerful army, in 
 a strong fortification, with several garrison towns still 
 in their possession, with a great mass of the population 
 ready to rush again to the field, and with a French 
 fleet freighted with arms and with troops in the 
 Shannon, they had been induced, upon the faith of a 
 solemn compact, to lay down their swords, and put 
 their trust in the honour of the King and the integrity 
 of his people. They must have cursed the day, when, 
 instead of adding their bones to the remains of those
 
 134 SKETCHES OF THE BAR. 
 
 who lay slaughtered in the trenches of Limeriek, they 
 survived to behold the Protestants of Ireland taking 
 advantage of that fatal surrender, and in defiance of 
 the most solemn compacts, in violation of a clear and 
 indisputable treaty, not only excluding them from the 
 honours and privileges of the state, but wresting their 
 property from their hands, instituting a legalized ban- 
 ditti of " discoverers," exciting their children into an 
 insurrection against human nature, converting filial 
 ingratitude into a merit, and setting up parricide as a 
 newly-invented virtue, in the infernal ethics of the 
 law. 
 
 As Sir Theobald Butler had anticipated, (for he 
 intimates it in an involuntary expression of despond- 
 ency), his arguments were of little avail, and he lived 
 long enough to see the penal code carried to its atro- 
 cious perfection, and chain after chain thrown upon his 
 country. He even survived an Act of Parliament by 
 which Roman Catholics were excluded from the pro- 
 fession in which he had earned fortune and renown. 
 It is a common notion that he changed his religion in 
 order to avert the evils which he so powerfully de- 
 scribed; but I was informed by his grandson, Mr. 
 Augustine Butler, that he died in the religion in which 
 he had lived, and that his great estates became in con- 
 sequence equally divisible among his children. He was 
 interred in the churchyard of St. James's church in 
 Dublin, where a huge but rather uncouth monument 
 has been raised to his memory. His epitaph differs 
 from most obituary panegyrics, by the adherence of 
 encomium to truth. It is inscribed under a rude and 
 now mutilated bust, and runs as follows :
 
 THE CATHOLIC BAH. 135 
 
 Designator hac effigie 
 Theobaldus e gente Butlera 
 
 Hibernus Juriscoiisultus 
 
 Legum, Patriae, nominis decos 
 
 Dignitate eqaestri donatus, uon auctus 
 
 Causidicus 
 
 Argntus, concinnus, integer 
 
 Barbaric forensi, et vernacul disertus 
 
 Non partium studio 
 
 Non favoris aucupio 
 
 Non verbornm lenocinio 
 
 ' Sed rerum pondere 
 
 Et ingenii vi insit4 
 
 Et legum scientia penitiori 
 
 Pollens 
 
 Quern lingua solera, illibata fides 
 
 Comitate et sale multo condita gravitas 
 
 Quern vitse tenor sincerus 
 
 Et recti custos animus 
 Legom recondita deproinere sagax 
 
 Ad faincj fastigium evexere 
 
 Fortunaeetiam, ni religio obstaret, facile evexissent. 
 Obiit Septuagenarius XI Martii, 1720. 
 
 Notwithstanding the exclusion of Roman Catholics 
 from the Bar, the expedient which was adopted for the 
 purpose does not appear to have been found effectual. 
 A certificate of conformity was all that was required, 
 and this certificate was so easily obtained, that the mem- 
 bers of the obnoxious religion were still able to creep 
 and steal into the profession. The letters of Primate 
 Boulter, who governed Ireland for a considerable 
 time, and whose simple maxim it was to keep Ireland 
 divided, in order that her dependency might be secured, 
 give us a very curious insight into the state of the Irish 
 Bar in the year 1727. In a letter dated the 7th of 
 March, 1727; he writes: "There is a bill gone over
 
 136 SKETCHES OF THE EAR. 
 
 to regulate the admission of barristers, attornies, six- 
 clerks, solicitors, sub-sheriffs, &c. which is of the last 
 consequence to this kingdom. The practice of the law, 
 from the top to the bottom, is at present mostly in the 
 hands of new converts, who give no further security 
 on this account, than producing a certificate of their 
 having received the sacrament in the Church of 
 England or Ireland, which several of them, who were 
 Papists in London, obtain in the road hither, and 
 demand to be admitted barristers in virtue of it at 
 their arrival, and several of them have Popish wives, 
 and have mass said in their houses. Everybody here 
 is sensible of the terrible effects of this growing evil, 
 and both Lords and Commons are most eagerly desi- 
 rous of this bill." Boulter's Letters, vol. i. p. 179. 
 
 The horror entertained by his Grace of Dublin for 
 barristers, whose better-halves were infected with 
 Popery, appears ludicrous at this day. Doctor Boulter 
 considered the division of allegiance at the Bar be- 
 tween the law and the fair sex as highly dangerous to 
 the security of the Established Church, and would have 
 taken ' ' au pied de la lettre " what Lord Chesterfield 
 said of the beautiful Lady Palmer,* that she was the 
 
 * The writer of this article was acquainted with Lady Palmer, when 
 she was upwards of one hundred years of age. The admiration which 
 Lord Chesterfield is known to have entertained for this lady induced me 
 to seek an introduction to her. Although rich, she occupied a small 
 lodging in Henry-street, where she lived secluded and alone. Over the 
 chimneypiece of the front drawing-room was suspended the picture of 
 her platonic idolater. It was a half-length portrait, and had, I believe, 
 been given to her by the man of whose adoration she was virtuously 
 vain. I was engaged in looking at this picture, while I waited, 
 on the day of my first introduction, for this pristine beauty of the
 
 THE CATHOLIC BAR. 137 
 
 only " dangerous Papist " he had ever seen in Ireland. 
 I know not, however, whether the feeling by which 
 
 Irish Court. While I gazed upon the picture of a man who united so 
 many accomplishments of manner and of mind, and observed the fine 
 intellectual smile, which the painter had succeeded in stealing upon ani- 
 mated canvass, I fell into a somewhat imaginative strain of thought, and 
 asked myself what sort of woman " the dangerous Papist" must have 
 been, in whom the master of the graces had found such enchanting peril. 
 " What a charm," I said, " must she have possessed, upon whose face and 
 form those bright eyes reposed in illuminated sweetness, how soft and 
 magical must have been the voice on whose whispers those lips have 
 hung so often, what gracefulness of mind, what an easy dignity of 
 deportment, what elegance of movement, what sweet vivacity of expres- ^ 
 sion, how much polished gaiety and bewitching sentiment must have 
 been united ! I had formed to myself an ideal image of the young, the soft, 
 the fresh, the beautiful, and tender girl, who had fascinated the magician of 
 so many spells. The picture was almost complete. The Castle in all its 
 quondam lustre rose before me, and I almost saw my Lord Chesterfield 
 conducting Lady Palmer through the movements of a minuet, when the 
 door was slowly opened, and in the midst of a volume of smoke, which 
 during my phantasmagoric imaginations had not inappropriately filled 
 the room, I beheld hi her own proper person the being, in whose ideal crea- 
 tion I had indulged in a sort of Pygmalian dream The opening of the 
 
 door produced a rush of air, which caused the smoke to spread out in 
 huge wreathes about her, and a weird and withered form stood in the 
 midst of the dispersing vapour. She fixed upon me a wild and sorceress 
 eye, the expression of which was aided by her attitude, her black attire, 
 her elongated neck, her marked and strongly moulded but emaciated 
 features. She leaned with her long arm and her withered hand of dis- 
 coloured parchment upon an ivory-headed cane, while she stretched forth 
 her interrogating face, and with a smile, not free from ghastliness, inquired 
 my name. I mentioned it, and her expression, as she had been informed 
 that I was to visit her, immediately changed. After the ordinary for- 
 mulas of civility, she placed herself in a huge chair, find entered at once 
 into politics. She was a most vehement Catholic, and was just the sort 
 of person that Sir Harcourt Lees would have ducked for a rebel and a 
 witch. Lord Chesterfield and the Catholic Question were the only 
 subjects in which she seemed to take any interest. Upon the wrongs 
 done to her country, she spoke not only with energy, but with eloquence,
 
 138 SKETCHES OP THE BAR. 
 
 Doctor Boulter was influenced, be wholly extinct. I do 
 not mean to say that Lord Wellesley would object to 
 a barrister on account of his "having a Popish wife, 
 and mass said in his house;" but it is observable that 
 of the three Catholic barristers who have been pro- 
 moted under his Lordship's administration, by a 
 strange matrimonial coincidence every one is married 
 to a Protestant. 
 
 The bill sent over by Primate Boulter was carried, 
 and Catholics were effectually excluded from the Bar. 
 From 1725 to 1793 lawyers earnestly and strenuously 
 professed the doctrines of the State ; and although upon 
 his death-bed many an orator of renown supplicated in 
 a Connaught accent for a priest, yet his lady, whose 
 gentility of religion was brought into some sort of 
 question, and who would have considered, it as utterly 
 derogatory to set up a widoVs cap to the memory of a 
 relapsed Papist, either drowned the agonies of conscience 
 in the vehemence of her sorrows, or slapped the door in 
 
 and %vith every pinch of snuff poured out a sentence of sedition. 
 " Steth, Sir, it is not to be borne," she used to exclaim, as she lifted her 
 figure from the stoop of age, with her eyes flashing with fire, and struck 
 her cane violently to the ground. Wishing to turn the conversation to 
 more interesting matter, I told her I was not surprised at Lord Ches- 
 terfield having called her " a dangerous Papist." I had touched a chord, 
 which, though slackened, was not wholly unstrung. The patriot relapsed 
 into the woman ; and passing at once from her former look and attitude, 
 she leaned back in her chair, and drawing her withered hands together, 
 while her arms fell loosely and languidly before her, she looked up at the 
 picture of Lord Chesterfield with a melancholy smile. " Ah I" she said 
 But I have extended this note beyond all reasonable compass. I 
 think it right to add, after so much mention of Lady Palmer, that 
 although she was vain of the admiration, of Lord Chesterfield, she took 
 care never to lose Ids esteem, and that her reputation was without a 
 blemish.
 
 THE CATHOLIC BAR. 139 
 
 the face of the intrepid Jesuit, who had adventured 
 upon the almost hopeless enterprise of saving the soul 
 of the expiring counsellor. 
 
 The Bar gradually assumed a decidedly Protestant 
 character; and although an occasional Catholic prac- 
 tised as a conveyancer, yet none obtained any celebrity 
 in the only department of the law from which Roman 
 Catholics were not actually excluded. Indeed they 
 held so low a place, that it appears to have been a kind 
 of disrepute to have had anything to do with them ; 
 and I remember, to have read, in the cause of Simpson 
 against Lord Mountnorris, the deposition of a witness, 
 who stated as a ground for impeaching a deed executed 
 by the Earl of Anglesea, that it was drawn by a Papist. 
 Roman Catholics were at this period excluded from the 
 English, as well as from the Irish Bar ; but Booth, the 
 great conveyancer, was a Roman Catholic, and, before 
 the professors of his religion were admissible to the 
 rank of counsel, Mr. Charles Butler, of Lincoln's-inn, 
 had obtained great fame. 
 
 In the year 1793 the great act for the relief of the 
 Roman Catholics was passed. It was a piece of niggard 
 and preposterous legislation; all, or nothing, should 
 have been conceded. The effect of a partial enfran- 
 chisement was to give the means of acquiring wealth, 
 influence, intelligence, and power, and yet withhold the 
 only legitimate means of employing them. The Roman 
 Catholics were not admitted into, but brought within 
 reach of, the constitution. They were still placed 
 beyond the State, and were furnished with a lever to 
 shake it. They obtained that external "point d'appui" 
 from which thev have been enabled to exercise a 
 
 , 
 
 disturbing power.
 
 140 SKETCHES OP THE BAR. 
 
 The extension of the elective franchise to men who 
 were at the same time declared to be ineligible to 
 parliament, and the admission of Catholics to the Bar 
 while they were denied its honourable rewards, are 
 conspicuous instances of impolicy. The late Mr. 
 George Ponsonby was strongly impressed with the im- 
 prudence of allowing Roman Catholics to enter the race 
 of intelligence, and yet shut up the goal.* He felt 
 that the government were disciplining troops against 
 themselves, and insisted on the absurdity of exciting 
 ambition, and at the same time closing the avenues to its 
 legitimate gratification. He saw that so far from con- 
 ciliating the Roman Catholic body by so imperfect and 
 lame a measure of relief, their indignation would rather 
 be provoked by what was refused, than their gratitude 
 be awakened by what was granted: desire would be 
 inflamed by an approach to its object, while it was 
 denied its natural and tranquillizing enjoyment. Mr. 
 Ponsonby^s anticipations were well founded, and are 
 going through a rapid process of verification. 
 
 The first Roman Catholics who took advantage of 
 the enabling statute, were Mr. Donnellan, Mr. Mac 
 Kcnna, Mr. Lynch, and Mr. Bellew. Every one of 
 those gentlemen (quod nota, as Lord Coke says in his 
 occasional intimations to the Junior Bar) was provided 
 for by Government. Mr. Donnellan obtained a place 
 in the revenue; Mr. Mac Kenna wrote some very 
 clever political tracts, and was silenced with a pension ; 
 
 * Mr. George Ponsonby was Chancellor of Ireland under the "Talents'' 
 Administration. He died in 1817. The argument drawn from the con- 
 cessions of 1793 was never more happily put than by Mr. John Wilson 
 Croker, in his tract entitled A Sketch of the State of Ireland, Past and 
 Present, published anonymously in 1808. Few political pamphlets keep 
 the shelf by virtue of their literary merit. This is one of the few.
 
 THE CATHOLIC BAR. 141 
 
 Mr. Lynch married a widow with a pension, which was 
 doubled after his marriage; and Mr. Bellew is in the 
 receipt of six hundred pounds a year, paid to him 
 quarterly at the Treasury. The latter gentleman is 
 deserving of notice. Whether I consider him as an 
 individual, as the representative of the old Catholic 
 aristocracy at the Bar, as a politician, a religionist, or a 
 pensioner, I look upon this able, upright, starch, solemn, 
 didactic, pragmatical, inflexible, uncompromising, obsti- 
 nate, pious, moral, good, benevolent, high-minded, and 
 exceedingly wrong-headed person, as in every way 
 entitled to regard.
 
 143 
 
 MR. WILLIAM BELLEW. 
 
 [FEBBTJABY, 1827.] 
 
 MR. WILLIAM BELLEW is a member of one of the 
 most distinguished Roman Catholic families in Ireland. 
 There was formerly a peerage attached to his name, 
 which was extinguished in an attainder. A baronetcy 
 was retained. His father, Sir Patrick Bellew, was a 
 man of a high spirit, distinguished for his munificence, 
 and that species of disastrous hospitality, by which 
 many a fine estate was so ingloriously dismembered. 
 He constituted a sort of exception among the Catholic 
 gentry ; for at the time when that body sank under the 
 weight of accumulated indignities, Sir Patrick .Bellew 
 exhibited a lofty sense of his personal importance, 
 and was sufficiently bold to carry a sword. Hi*? 
 property descended to his eldest son, Sir Edward 
 Bellew.* Mr. William Bellew, the barrister, who was 
 his second son, was sent to the Anglo-Saxon university 
 of Douay, from whence he returned with all the 
 
 * Sir Edward was father of the present Lord Bellew, who, when Sir 
 Patrick Bellew, represented the county of Lonth, and in 1838 was made 
 a Privy Counsellor. The peerage was restored in 1848.
 
 144 SKETCHES OF THE BAR. 
 
 altitude of demeanour for which his father was" remark- 
 able, but with a profound veneration for all constituted 
 authorities, of whatever nature, kind, or degree, and 
 with abstract tendencies to political submission, which 
 are by no means at variance with a man's interests in 
 Ireland. 
 
 He was one of the first Roman Catholics called to 
 the Bar, and I have understood from some of his 
 contemporaries, that, as he represented the Catholic 
 gentry, and was considered to take a decided lead in 
 their proceedings, in his first appearance in the Four 
 Courts he attracted much notice. His general bearing 
 produced a sort of awe; and it was obvious that, as 
 Owen Glendower says, "he was not in the roll of 
 common men." His lofty person, his stately walk, his 
 perpendicular attitude, the rectilineal position of his 
 head, his solemnity of gesture, the deep and meditative 
 gravity of his expression, his sustained and measured 
 utterance, the deliberation of his tones, his self- 
 collectedness and concentration, and that condensed, 
 but by no means arrogant or overweening, look of 
 superiority by which he is characterized, fixed an 
 universal gaze upon him; and from the contrast 
 between him, and the rapid, bustling, and airy manner 
 of most of his brethren, excited a general curiosity. 
 Heedless of observation, and scarcely conscious of it, 
 the forensic aristocrat passed through the throng of 
 wondering spectators, and as Horatio says of the Royal 
 Dane, 
 
 " with solemn march 
 Went slow and stately by them." 
 
 There was indeed something spectral in his aspect. 
 The phantom of the old Catholic aristocracy seemed to
 
 MR. WILLIAM BELLE W. 145 
 
 have been evoked in his person, while the genius of 
 Protestant ascendancy shrunk before its majestic 
 apparition. All idea of checking "the growth of 
 Popery" vanished in an instant at his sight ; the only 
 man who could compete with him in longitude of dimen- 
 sions being Mr. Mahaffy ; but that gentleman's stupen- 
 dous length sat uneasily upon him, whereas the soul of 
 the lofty Papist seemed to inhabit every department of 
 his frame, and would have disdained to occupy any 
 other than its sublime and appropriate residence. 
 High as his port and demeanour were, they were 
 wholly free from affectation. "With a great deal of 
 pride he manifested neither insolence nor conceit. He 
 looked far more dignified than authoritative; and 
 although a strong expression of austerity was inscribed 
 upon his countenance, it was by no means heartless or 
 even severe. 
 
 If I were a painter and were employed to furnish 
 illustrations of Ivanhoe, I do not think that I could 
 find a more appropriate model than Mr. Bellew for the 
 picture of Lucas Beaumanoir. His visage is inexorable 
 without fierceness; and many a time hath he been 
 observed fixing his immitigable eye upon a beauty in the 
 dock at the assizes of Dundalk, with that expression 
 with which the Grand Master is represented to have 
 surveyed the unfortunate Jewess. His friend Mr. Mac 
 Kenna used to observe, that " if William Bellew saw a 
 man hanging from every lamp-post down Capel Street, 
 in his morning walk from Great Charles Street to the 
 Four Courts, the only question he would ask would be 
 whether they were hanged according to law?" 
 
 Mr. Bellew came with signal advantages to the Bar. 
 He was closely connected with the oldest and most 
 
 VOL. i. L
 
 146 SKETCHES OP THE BAR. 
 
 opulent Roman Catholic families, and was employed 
 as their domestic counsel. Their wills, their purchases, 
 and marriage articles were drawn under his inspection. 
 It was, I have heard, not a little agreeable to behold 
 Mr. Bellew going through a marriage settlement, 
 where an ancient Catholic family was to be connected 
 with an inferior caste. In Ireland, as well as in the 
 sister country, the pride of birth prevails among the 
 Roman Catholic gentry beyond almost any other 
 passion. As in England we find an universal diffusion 
 of cousinship through the principal Catholic houses, 
 so the ancient blood of the Catholics of the Pale lias 
 been, by a similar process of intermarriage, earned 
 through an almost uniform circulation. 
 
 This pride of birth among the Catholic gentry, when 
 excluded from political distinction, was perfectly 
 natural. Having no field for the exercise of their 
 talents, and without any prospect of obtaining an 
 ascent in society through their own merits, they 
 looked back to the achievements of their ancestors, and 
 consoled themselves with the brilliant retrospect. 
 While a young Irish Protestant threw himself into the 
 field of politics, an Irish Catholic was left without the 
 least scope for enterprise, and had scarce any resource, 
 but to pace up and down the damp apartments of his 
 family mansion, and to commune with the high plumed 
 warriors of the Pale, who frowned in mouldering paint 
 before him. The young ladies too were instructed to 
 look with emulation on the composed visages of their 
 grand-aunts, and to reverence the huge circumference 
 of hoop in which their more sacred symmetries were 
 encompassed and concealed. For a considerable time 
 it was possible to maintain the dignity of the Roman
 
 ME. WILLIAM BELLE W. 147 
 
 Catholic families without any plebeian intercourse ; but 
 at last the pressure of mortgages and judgments 
 became too great, and it was requisite to save the estate 
 at the expense of the purity of its owner's blood. After 
 a struggle and a sigh, the head of an old Catholic 
 house resigned himself to the urgency of circumstances, 
 and yielded to the necessity of intermingling the vulgar 
 stream, which had crept through the grocers and 
 manufacturers of the Liberty,* with a current which, 
 however pure, began to run low. 
 
 A priest, a friend of the family, who, as matrimony 
 is one of the seven sacraments, thinks himself in duty 
 bound to promote so salubrious a rite, is consulted. 
 He gives a couple of taps to his gold snuff-box, tenders 
 a pinch to the old gentleman, protests that there are 
 risks in celibacy, that it is needful to husband the con- 
 stitution and the estate, and observing that the young 
 squire, though a little pale, is a pretty fellow, puts his 
 finger to his nose, and hints at a young damsel in New- 
 row (a penitent of his reverence, and a mighty good 
 kind of young woman, not long come from the Cork 
 convent), with ruddy cheeks, and vigorous arms, a 
 robust waist and antigallican toes. The parties are 
 brought together. The effect of juxtaposition is noto- 
 rious : most of my readers know it by experience. The 
 young gentleman stutters a compliment, the heart of 
 the young lady and her wooden fan are in a flutter ; the 
 question is popped. The old people put their heads 
 
 * A manor of the Earls of Meath in the city of Dublin ; formerly, 
 like Spitalfields, the seat of a thriving silk manufacture, now a poor and 
 dilapidated faubourg. New Row, mentioned lower down, is a street in 
 the district. In the paper entitled The Tabinet Sail, the author has 
 graphically described the miseries of " the Liberty." 
 
 L 2
 
 148 SKETCHES OF THE BAR. 
 
 together. Consideration of the marriage, high blood, 
 and equity of redemption upon one side; and rude 
 health and twenty thousand pounds on the other. The 
 bargain is struck ; and to ensure the hymeneal nego- 
 tiation, nothing remains but that Counsellor Bellew 
 should look over the settlements. 
 
 Accordingly, a Galway attorney prepares the draft 
 marriage settlement, with a skin for every thousand, 
 and waits on Mr. Bellew. Laying thirty guineas on 
 the table, and thinking that upon the credit of such 
 a fee he may presume to offer his opinion, he com- 
 mences with an ejaculation on the fall of the good old 
 families, until Mr. Bellew, after counting the money, 
 casts a Caius Marius look upon him, and awes him into 
 respect. He unrolls the volume of parchment, and the 
 eye of the illustrious conveyancer glistens at the sight 
 of the ancient and venerable name that stands at the 
 head of the indenture. But as he advances through 
 the labyrinth of limitations, he grows alarmed and 
 disturbed, and on arriving at the words " on the body 
 of the said Judy Mac Gilligan to be begotten," he 
 drops his pen, and puts the settlement away, with 
 something of the look of a Frenchman, when he inti- 
 mates his perception of an unusually bad smell. It is 
 only after an interval of reflection, and when he has 
 recalled the fiscal philosophy of Vespasian, that he is 
 persuaded to resume his labours, but does not com- 
 pletely recover his tranquillity of mind, until turning 
 the back of his brief, he marks that most harmonious 
 of all monosyllables " paid/' at the foot of the consola- 
 tory stipend. 
 
 No man at the Bar is more exact, careful, technical, 
 and expert in conveyancing than Mr. Bellew. He at
 
 ME. WILLIAM BELLEW. 149 
 
 one time monopolized the whole Catholic business. 
 Nor was it to the Roman Catholic body that his repu- 
 tation as a lawyer was confined. He deservedly ob- 
 tained a very high character with the whole public for 
 the extent of his erudition, his familiar knowledge of 
 equity and of the common law, the clearness of his 
 statements, the ingenuity and astuteness of his rea- 
 soning, and for that species of calm and deliberative 
 elocution which is of such importance in the Court of 
 Chancery. 
 
 I look upon Mr. Bellew as a man who has most 
 grievously suffered by his exclusion from the inner bar, 
 from which nothing but his religion could have kept 
 him. It was in the Court of Chancery that his business 
 lay almost entirely ; and in that court it is absolutely 
 necessary to have a silk gown, in order to be listened to 
 with ordinary attention. The reason is this : not that 
 the Chancellor pays no respect to any individual who is 
 not in silk attire, but because the multitude of King's 
 Counsel who precede a lawyer in a stuff gown of neces- 
 sity exhaust the subject, and leave him the lees and 
 dregs of the case. Mr. Bellew has lived to see his 
 inferiors in talent and in knowledge raised above his 
 head, and it is now his doom, at the end of a cause, to 
 send his arguments like spent shot, after the real con- 
 test has been decided, and the hot fire is over. His 
 situation would be very different indeed, if it were his 
 office to state cases, and open important motions, for 
 which no man is more eminently qualified. 
 
 The whole Bar feel that he labours under a great 
 hardship in this particular, for which a pension of 600J. 
 a-year affords a very inadequate compensation. Mr. 
 Bellew's pension of 600/. has effectually excluded him
 
 150 SKETCHES OF THE BAK. 
 
 from all useful interference in Roman Catholic affairs; 
 for whenever he opposes a popular measure, it is suffi- 
 cient to refer to his salary at the Castle, in order to 
 excite the popular feeling against him. He has, how- 
 ever, upon this subject been a good deal misrepresented, 
 and it is only an act of justice to him to state the 
 facts. 
 
 The Catholic aristocracy supported the Union. They 
 were led astray by a promise from Lord Cornwallis, 
 and by such an intimation from Pitt as induced him to 
 resign. I do not intend to discuss the merits of the 
 question, but can readily conceive that many a good 
 man might have advocated the measure, without earning 
 for his motto, " Vendidit hie auro patriam." I am 
 fully convinced, from what I know of the honourable 
 cast of Mr. Bellew's mind, that he never did promote 
 the measure from any sordid views to his own interest. 
 Lord Castlereagh was well aware of the importance of 
 securing the support of the leading Roman Catholic 
 gentry, and the place of assistant barrister was promised 
 to Mr. Bellew. Whether the promise was made before 
 or after the Union, I am not aware ; nor is it of con- 
 sequence, excepting we adopt the scholastic distinction 
 of Father Foigard,* in his argumentative assault upon 
 Cherry's virtue: "If it be before, it is a bribe; if it 
 be after, it is only a gratification." At all events, I 
 am convinced that Mr. Bellew did nothing at variance 
 with honour and conscience from any mercenary con- 
 sideration. The place of assistant barrister became 
 vacant : Lord Castlereagh was reminded of his engage- 
 ment, when, behold ! a petition signed by the magis- 
 
 * The Irish priest in the Beaux Stratagem, who was " educated hi 
 Prance but boned in Brussels."
 
 MR. WILLIAM BELLEW. 151 
 
 trates of the county, to which Mr. Bellew was about 
 to be nominated, is presented to the Lord Lieutenant, 
 praying that a Roman Catholic should not be appointed 
 to any judicial office, and intimating their determina- 
 tion not to act with him. The government were a good 
 deal embarrassed by this notification ; and in order at 
 once to fulfil the spirit of their contract, and not to 
 give offence to the Protestant magistrates, a pension 
 equivalent to the salary of a chairman was given to 
 Mr. Bellew, and he was put in the enjoyment of the 
 fruits of the office, without the labour of cultivation. 
 
 That it was reprehensible on the part of the Irish 
 government, to tax the people with an additional pen- 
 sion, out of a miserable dre.ad of irritating a few Pro- 
 testant gentlemen, cannot, I think, be questioned : and 
 but few persons will be inclined to attach any great 
 blame to Mr. Bellew for having accepted of this com- 
 pensation. It would be very idle, however, to enter 
 into any explanation upon these subjects with the Roman 
 Catholic body, among whom the very name of pen- 
 sioner, connected as it is with all sorts of back-door 
 and postern services at the Castle, carries a deep stigma. 
 No matter how well Mr. Bellew may argue a point at 
 a Catholic assembly ; no matter how cogent and con- 
 vincing his arguments may be in favour of a more calm 
 and moderate tone of proceedings; the moment Mr. 
 O'Connell lifts up his strong arm, and with an ejacula- 
 tion of integrity " thanks his God that he is not a 
 pensioner ! " all the Douay syllogisms of Mr. Bellew 
 vanish at the exclamation, and yells and shouts assail 
 the retainer of government from every side. Had he 
 the eloquence of Demosthenes, the clinking of the 
 gold would be heard amidst the thunder.
 
 152 SKETCHES OF THE BAR. 
 
 Yet I entertain no doubt that Mr. Bellew has not, in 
 his political conduct, been actuated by any mean and 
 dishonest motive. I utterly dissent from him in his 
 views, principles, and opinions; but I believe that he 
 is only acting in conformity with impressions received 
 at a very early period, which his education and habits 
 tended not a little to confirm. His first opinions were 
 formed at a period when the Roman Catholic aristo- 
 cracy was actuated by a spirit very different from that 
 which it has lately evinced. Much condemnation has 
 been attached to that body for their want of vigour in 
 the conduct of Catholic affairs. But allowances ought 
 to be made for them. The penal code had after a few 
 years ground the gentry almost to powder. They lived 
 in a state of equal terror and humiliation. From their 
 infancy they were instructed to look upon every Pro- 
 testant with alarm; for it was in the power of the 
 meanest member of the privileged class to file a bill of 
 discovery, and strip them of their estates. At their 
 ordinary meals, they must have regarded their own 
 children with awe, and felt they were at their mercy. 
 Swift represents the whole body as little better than 
 hewers of wood and drawers of water. 
 
 The complication of indignities to which they were 
 exposed must necessarily have generated bad moral 
 influences ; and accordingly we find in their petitions 
 and remonstrances a tone of subserviency at which their 
 descendants would blush. Even after the penal code 
 was relaxed, and they were restored to the rank of 
 citizens, they preserved the attitude of humility to which 
 they had been accustomed ; and when the load which 
 they had carried so long was taken off, they retained a 
 stoop. At length, however, they stand erect in their
 
 MR. WILLIAM BELLEW. 153 
 
 country; and with very few exceptions, exhibit the 
 same spirit as the great mass of the people. Lord 
 Fingall, though prevented by his health from taking an 
 active part in public affairs, gives evidence of his 
 assent to the bold and vigorous course of measures 
 adopted by the body, of which he is the hereditary 
 head, by the presence of his son. The latter, Lord 
 Killeen, manifests as much energy and determination 
 as he does sound sense and admirable discretion. Lord 
 Gormanstown has thrown himself M r ith enthusiasm into 
 the national cause, and feels the injuries of his country 
 with a deep and indignant sensibility ; and even Lord 
 Kenmare, whose love of retirement excludes him from " 
 the bustle of public meetings, lends to the Catholic Asso- 
 ciation the authority of his name, and shows that the 
 spirit of patriotism has penetrated the deep woods of 
 Killarney, in which his lordship and his excellent lady 
 (the sister of Mr. Wilmot Horton) are connubially em- 
 bowered. I should not omit to add, that Sir Edward 
 Bellew and his son, who is a young man of very con- 
 siderable abilities, and likely to make a distinguished 
 figure, displayed during the late election for the county 
 of Louth great public spirit, energy, and determi- 
 nation.* 
 
 But amidst this almost universal change in the 
 general temperature of the country, amidst this general 
 ascent of the mercurial spirit of the people, Mr. William 
 Bellew remains at zero. Not the smallest influence is 
 perceptible in the cold rigidity of his opinions. True to 
 the doctrine of non-resistance, he brings up in its sup- 
 port, the whole barbarous array of syllogistic forms 
 
 * The son of Sir Edward alluded to is the present Lord Bellew.
 
 154 SKETCHES OF THE BAR. 
 
 with which his recollections of Douay can supply him. 
 It is in vain that the rapid progress of the Catholic 
 cause is urged against him : you appeal in vain to the 
 firmness, union, and organization of the people, which 
 have been effected through the Catholic Association : 
 the insurrection of the peasantry against their land- 
 lords, and the consequent sense of their own rights with 
 which they have begun to be impressed, are treated 
 with utter scorn by this able dialectician, who meets 
 you at every step with his major drawn from religion, 
 and his minor derived from passive obedience, and dis- 
 perses your harangue with his peremptory conclusion. 
 
 Nor is it to speculation that he confines his innate 
 reverence for the powers that be ; for after the dissolu- 
 tion of the old Roman Catholic Association by an Act 
 of Parliament, when an effort was making to raise 
 another body out of its ruins, of his own accord Mr. 
 Bellew gratuitously published a letter, in the public 
 journals, to demonstrate to the Attorney- General that 
 it would be legal to put it down. In this view Mr. 
 Plunket does not appear to have concurred. 
 
 Notwithstanding the censure which I have intimated 
 of Mr. Bellew's political tendencies and opinions, I 
 repeat, and that sincerely and unaffectedly, that I en- 
 tirely acquit him of all deliberate corruption. His 
 private life gives an earnest of integrity which I cannot 
 question. It is, in all his individual relations in society, 
 deserving of the most unqualified encomium. It would 
 be a deviation from delicacy, even for the purposes of 
 praise, to follow Mr. Bellew through the walks of private 
 life. Suffice it to say, that a more generous, amiable, 
 and tender-hearted man is not to be found in his pro-
 
 ME. WILLIAM BELLEW. 155 
 
 fession ; and underneath a frozen and somewhat rugged 
 surface, a spring of deep and abundant goodness lives 
 in his mind. 
 
 If in the hasty writing of the present sketch, I have 
 allowed grotesque images in connexion with Mr. Belles 
 to pass across my mind, I have " set down naught in 
 malice;" and if I have ventured on a smile, that smile has 
 not been sardonic. In addition to the other qualities of 
 Mr. Bellew for which he merits high praise, I should 
 not omit his sincere spirit of religion. He is one those 
 few who unite with the creed of the Pharisee the sensi- 
 bilities of the Samaritan. Mr. Bellew is a devout and 
 unostentatious Roman Catholic, deeply convinced of 
 the truth of his religion, and most rigorous in the prac- 
 tice of its precepts. The only requisite which he wants 
 to give him a complete title to spiritual perfection, 
 is one in which some of his learned brethren are not 
 deficient ; and it cannot be said that he " has given joy 
 in heaven," upon the principle on which so many 
 barristers have the opportunity of administering to the 
 angelic transports. One of the results of his having 
 been always equally moral and abstemious as at present 
 is, that his dedication to religion attracts no notice. If 
 another barrister receives the sacrament, it is bruited 
 through town; and at all the Catholic parties, the ladies 
 describe with a pious minuteness the collected aspect, 
 the combined expression of penitence and humility, the 
 clasped hands, and the uplifted eyes of the counsellor; 
 while the devout Mr. Bellew, who goes through the 
 same sacred exercise, passes without a comment. 
 
 In truth, I should not myself know that Mr. Bellew 
 was a man of such strong religious addictions, but for 
 an incident which put me upon the inquiry. Upon
 
 156 SKETCHES OF THE BAR. 
 
 Ash-"Wednesday it is the practice among pious 
 Catholics to approach the altar ; and while he repeats 
 in a solemn tone, " Remember, man, that thou art 
 dust," with the ashes which he carries in a vase the 
 priest impresses the foreheads of those who kneel before 
 him with the sign of the cross. Some two or three 
 years ago, I recollect the court was kept waiting for Mr. 
 Bellew, and the Master of the Rolls began to manifest 
 some unusual symptoms of impatience, when at last 
 Mr. Bellew entered, having just come from his devo- 
 tions ; and such was his haste from the chapel, that he 
 had omitted to efface the " memento mori" from his 
 brow. The countenance of this gentleman is in itself 
 sufficiently full of melancholy reminiscences ; but when 
 the Master of the Rolls, raising his eyes from a notice 
 which he was diligently perusing, looked him full in the 
 face, he gave an involuntary start. The intimation of 
 judicial astonishment directed the general attention to 
 the advocate; and traced in broad sepulchral lines, 
 formed of ashes of ebony in the very centre of Mr. 
 Bellew's forehead, and surmounted by an ample and 
 fully powdered wig, appeared the black and appalling 
 emblem. The burning cross upon the forehead of the 
 sorcerer in "The Monk," could not have produced a 
 more awful effect. The Six Clerks stood astonished : 
 the Registrar was petrified ; and while Mr. Driscol ex- 
 plained the matter to Mr. Sergeant Lefroy, Sir William 
 M'Mahon, with some abruptness of tone, declared that 
 he would not go beyond the motion.
 
 157 
 
 MR. O'LOGHLEN. 
 
 [APEH,, 1828.] 
 
 " COUNSELLOR O'LOGHLEN, my motion is on in the 
 Rolls!" "Oh, Counsellor, Fm ruined for the want 
 of you in the Common Pleas!" "For God's sake, 
 Counsellor, step up for a moment to Master Townsend's 
 office ! " " Counsellor, what will I do without you 
 in the King's Bench ! " " Counsellor O'Loghlen, 
 Mr. O'Grady is carrying all before him in the Court 
 of Exchequer ! " Such were the simultaneous excla- 
 mations, which, upon entering the Hall of the Four 
 Courts, at the beginning of last term, I heard from a 
 crowd of attorneys, who surrounded a little gentleman, 
 attired in a wig and gown, and were clamorously con- 
 tending for his professional services, which they had 
 respectively retained, and to which, from the strenuous- 
 ness of their adjurations, they seemed to attach the 
 utmost value. 
 
 Mr. O'Loghlen stood in some suspense in the midst 
 of this riotous competition. While he was deliberating 
 to which of the earnest applicants for his attendance 
 he should addict himself, I had an opportunity to take
 
 158 SKETCHES OF THE BAR. 
 
 notes of him. He had at first view a very juvenile 
 aspect. His figure was light his stature low, but his 
 form compact, and symmetrically put together. His 
 complexion was fresh and healthy, and intimated a 
 wise acquaintance with the morning sun, more than 
 a familiarity with the less salubrious glimmerings of 
 the midnight lamp. His hair was of sanded hue, 
 like that of his Danish forefathers, from whom his 
 name (which in Gaelic signifies Denmark), as well as 
 his physiognomy, intimates his descent. Although at 
 first he appeared to have just passed the boundaries of 
 boyhood, yet upon a closer inspection all symptoms of 
 puerility disappeared. His head is large, and, from 
 the breadth and altitude of the forehead, denotes a 
 more than ordinary quantity of that valuable pulp, with 
 the abundance of which the intellectual power is said 
 to be in measure. His large eyes of deep blue, although 
 not enlightened by the flashings of constitutional 
 vivacity, carry a more professional expression, and 
 bespeak caution, sagacity, and slyness, while his mouth 
 exhibits a steadfast kindliness of nature, and a tran- 
 quillity of temper, mixed with some love of ridicule, 
 and, although perfectly free from malevolence, a lurk- 
 ing tendency to derision. An enormous bag, pregnant 
 with briefs, was thrown over his shoulder. To this 
 prodigious wallet of litigation on his back, his person 
 presented a curious contrast. 
 
 At the moment I surveyed him, he was surrounded 
 by an aggregate meeting of attorneys, each of whom 
 claimed a title paramount to "the Counsellor," and 
 vehemently enforced their respective rights to his 
 exclusive appropriation. He seemed to be at a loss 
 to determine to which of these amiable expostulators
 
 MR. O'LOGHLEN. 159 
 
 his predilections ought to be given. I thought that he 
 chiefly hesitated between Mr. Richard Scott, the pro- 
 tector of the subject in Ennis, and Mr. Edward 
 Hickman, the patron of the crown upon the Connaught 
 circuit. Ned, a loyalist of the brightest water, had 
 hold of him by one shoulder, while Dick, a patriot of 
 the first magnitude, laid his grasp upon the other. 
 Between their rival attractions, Mr. O'Loghlen stood 
 with a look, which, so far from intimating a wish that 
 either of "the two charmers " should be away, ex- 
 pressed regret at his inability to apportion himself, 
 between these fascinating disputants for his favours. 
 
 Mr. Scott, whose countenance was inflamed with 
 anxiety for one of his numerous clients, exhibited great 
 vehemence and emotion. His meteoric hair stood up, 
 his quick and eager eye was on fire, the indentations 
 upon his forehead were filled with perspiration, and the 
 whole of his strongly Celtic visage was moved by that 
 honourable earnestness, which arises from a solicitude 
 for the interest of those who intrust their fortunes to 
 his care. Ned Hickman, whose countenance never 
 relinquishes the expression of mixed finesse and drollery 
 for which it is remarkable, excepting when it is laid 
 down for an air of profound reverence for the Attorney- 
 General, was amusingly opposed to Mr. Scott; for 
 Ned holds all emotion to be vulgar, and, on account of 
 its gentility, hath addicted himself to self-control. 
 Mr. O'Loghlen, as I have intimated, seemed for some 
 time to waver between them, but at length Mr. Hick- 
 man, by virtue of a whisper, accompanied by a look 
 of official sagacity (for he is one of the crown solicitors), 
 prevailed, and was carrying Mr. O'Loghlen off in 
 triumph, when a deep and rumbling sound was heard
 
 160 SKETCHES OF THE BAR. 
 
 to issue from the Court of Exchequer, and shortly after, 
 there was seen descending its steps, a form of prodi- 
 gious altitude and dimensions, in whose masses of 
 corpulency, which were piled up to an amazing height, 
 I recognized no less eminent a person than Bumbo 
 Green. 
 
 He came like an ambulatory hill. This enormous 
 heap of animation approached to put in his claim to 
 Mr. O'Loghlen. Bumbo had an action, which was to 
 be tried before Chief Baron O'Grady, against the pro- 
 prietor of the mail-coach to Ennis, for not having 
 provided a vehicle large enough to contain him. 
 Mr. O'Loghlen was to state his case. Bumbo had 
 espied the capture which Ned Hickman had made of 
 his favourite counsel. It was easy to perceive, from 
 the expression of resolute severity which sat upon his 
 vast and angry visage, that he was determined not to 
 acquiese in this unwarrantable proceeding. As he 
 advanced, Ned Hickman stood appalled, and, conscious 
 of the futility of remonstrance, let loose the hold which 
 he had upon the Counsellor, while the latter, with that 
 involuntary and somewhat reluctant, but inevitable 
 submission, which is instinctively paid to great by little 
 men, obeyed the nod of his enormous employer, and, 
 with the homage which the Attorney-General for 
 Lilliput might be supposed to entertain for a solicitor 
 from Brobdignag, passively yielded to the dominion, 
 and followed into the Exchequer the gigantic waddle 
 of Bumbo Green. 
 
 But a truce to merriment. The merits of Mr. 
 O'Loghlen, with whom I open this continuation of 
 the Sketches of the Catholic Bar, are of a character 
 which demand a serious and most respectful considera-
 
 ME. O'LOGHLEN. 161 
 
 tion. He is not of considerable standing, and yet is 
 in the receipt of an immense income, which the most 
 jealous of his competitors will not venture to insinuate 
 that he does not deserve. He is in the utmost demand 
 in the Hall of the Four Courts, and is amongst the 
 very best of the commodities which are to be had in 
 that staple of the mind. He is admitted, upon all 
 hands, to be an excellent lawyer, and a master of the 
 practice of the courts, which is of far greater import- 
 ance than the black and recondite erudition to which 
 so many barristers exclusively devote so many years of 
 unavailing labour. 
 
 The questions to which deep learning is applicable, 
 are of unfrequent occurrence, while points connected 
 with the course and forms of legal proceeding, arise 
 every day, and afford to a barrister, who has made 
 them his study, an opportunity of rendering himself 
 greatly serviceable to his clients. It is not by displays 
 of research upon isolated occasions, that a valuable and 
 money-making reputation is to be established. " Prac- 
 tice," as it is technically called, is the alchemy of the 
 Bar. When it is once ascertained that a lawyer is 
 master of it, he becomes the main resource of attorneys, 
 who depend upon him for their guidance through 
 the mazes of every intricate and complicated case. 
 Mr. O'Loghlen has Tidd at his fingers' ends, and is, 
 besides, minutely acquainted with that unwritten and 
 traditional practice which governs Irish justice; and 
 which, not having been committed to books, is acquired 
 by an unremitting attention to what is going on in 
 court. 
 
 It is not to be considered, from the praise bestowed 
 upon Mr. O'Loghlen in this most important and most 
 
 VOL. i. M
 
 162 SKETCHES OP THE BAR. 
 
 useful department of his profession, that he does not 
 possess other and very superior qualifications. He is 
 familiar with every branch of the law, and has his 
 knowledge always at command. There are many whose 
 learning lies in their minds, like treasure in rusty 
 coffers which it is a toil to open, or masses of bullion in 
 the vaults of the Bank of Ireland, unfit for the purposes 
 of exchange, and difficult to be put into circulation. 
 Mr. O'Loghlen bears his wealth about him, he can 
 immediately apply it, and carries his faculties like 
 coined money "in numerato habet." 
 
 He is not a maker of sentences, and does not impress 
 his phrases on the memory of his hearers ; but he has 
 what is far better than what is vulgarly designated as 
 eloquence. He is perfectly fluent, easy, and natural. 
 His thoughts run in a smooth and clear current, and 
 his diction is then* appropriate channel. His percep- 
 tions are exceedingly quick, and his utterance is, there- 
 fore, occasionally rapid ; but although he speaks at 
 times with velocity, he never does so with precipitation. 
 He is extremely brief, and indulges in no useless ampli- 
 fication. There is not the smallest trace of affectation 
 in anything which he either does or says, and it is sur- 
 prising with what little appearance of exertion he brings 
 all the powers of his mind into play. His points are 
 put witli so much brevity, simplicity, and clearness, that 
 he has, of necessity, become a great favourite with the 
 Judges, who give him a willing audience, because he is 
 sure to be pertinent and short ; and having said all that 
 is fitting to be said, and no more, has immediately 
 done. 
 
 He is listened to the more readily, because he is 
 apparently frank and artless, but he merely puts on a
 
 MR. O'LOGHLEN. 163 
 
 show of candour, for few possess more suppleness and 
 craft. No man adapts himself with more felicity to the 
 humours and the predispositions of the judges whom he 
 addresses. Take, for example, the Exchequer, where 
 both on the law and equity sides of the Court, he is in 
 immense business. He appeals to the powerful under- 
 standing, and sheer common sense of Standish O'Grady, 
 in whom Rhadamanthus and Sancho Panza seem com- 
 bined. He hits the metaphysical propensities of Baron 
 Smith with a distinction, in which it would have puzzled 
 St. Thomas Aquinas, without the aid of inspiration, to 
 detect a difference: when every other argument has 
 failed with Baron M f Cleland, he tips him the wink, and 
 pointing with his thumb to the opposite attorney, 
 suggests the merits of the client, by a pantomimic 
 reference to those of his representative : and with the 
 same spirit of exquisite adaptation, plunges into the 
 darkest abysses of black-letter erudition with Baron 
 Pennefather, and provokes his Lordship into a citation 
 from the Year-books in Tipperary French.* 
 
 Mr. O'Loughlen is a native of Clare. I had at first, 
 and before I had made more minute inquiries, conjec- 
 tured from the omega in his name, that he must be 
 lineally descended from some of the ancient monarchs 
 of Ireland, or be at least collaterally connected with 
 one of the Phenician dynasties. Upon investigation, 
 however, I discovered that " the big O," the celebrated 
 object of royal antipathy, was but a modern annexation ; 
 and that, as I have already intimated, Mr. O'Loghlen 
 is of a Danish origin. It has often been observed that 
 the face of some remote progenitor reappears, after the 
 
 * Of the three Judges of the Irish Exchequer here mentioned, only 
 the last, Baron Pennefather, survives. 
 
 M 2
 
 164 SKETCHES OF THE BAR. 
 
 lapse of centuries, in his progeny; and in walking 
 through the halls of ancient families, it is surprising 
 sometimes to see, in the little boy who whips his top 
 beside you, a transcript of some old warrior who frowns 
 in armour on the mouldering canvass above your head. 
 There is preserved among the O'Loghlens a picture of 
 their ancestor. He was a captain in the Danish navy. 
 The likeness of this able cruiser off the Irish coast to 
 the Counsellor is wonderful. He was a small, square, 
 compact, and active little fellow, with great shrewdness 
 and intelligence of expression. Domestic tradition has 
 preserved some traits of his character, which show that 
 the mind, as well as the face, can be preserved during 
 ages of unimpaired transmission to the last. 
 
 He was remarkable for his skill as a navigator. Not 
 a pilot in all Denmark worked a ship better. He sent 
 his light and quick-sailing galley through the most in- 
 tricate quicksands. His coolness and self-possession 
 never deserted him, and in the worst weather he was 
 sure to get into port. He generally kept close to the 
 shore, and seldom sailed npon desperate adventures. 
 Remarkable for his talent in surprising the enemy, and 
 stealing into their creeks and harbours, he would unex- 
 pectedly assail them, and carry some rich prize away. 
 The descendant of this eminent cruiser works a cause 
 upon the same principles as his ancestor commanded a 
 ship. He holds the helm with a steady and skilful 
 hand, and shifts his sails with the nicest adaptation to 
 every veering circumstance that occurs in his course. 
 Sometimes, indeed, he goes very close to the wind, but 
 never misses stays. I scarcely ever saw him aground. 
 He hits his adversary between wind and water, and 
 when he lies most secure, sails into his anchorage,
 
 MB. O'LOGHLEN. 165 
 
 boards, and cuts him out. It is not, therefore, to be 
 wondered at, that he is in as great practice in the Hall, 
 as his forefather was upon the ocean, of whom it is 
 recorded that he 
 
 " Pursued o'er the high seas his watery journey, 
 And merely practised as a sea-attorney."* 
 
 * Sir. O'Loghlen was only in the first stage of his professional career 
 when this sketch was written. It seems proper, therefore, to add a 
 brief outline of the subsequent history of so eminent a man. He was 
 one of the first Catholic lawyers who received a silk gown after the v 
 Catholic Belief Act, and how well he was entitled to the rank may be 
 inferred from the fact, that in the last year of his practice at the outer 
 bar he made the large sum of 5,000?. In the Marquess of Anglesea's 
 Government, he was made a Serjeant, and in 1832 he stood for the city 
 of Dublin, along with Mr. Latouche, after Mr. Perrin and Alderman 
 Harty had been unseated by the decision of an election committee. In 
 the autumn of 1834 he succeeded Mr. Crampton (now Judge Crampton) 
 in the office of Solicitor- General. The place had been first offered to Mr. 
 Perrin, who declined it. On the ensuing change of Ministry, Mr. 
 O'Loghlen resigned, and at the general election, which then took place, 
 he was returned for the borough of Dungarvan. When the liberal party 
 returned to office in 1835, Mr. O'Loghlen became Solicitor-General 
 again, and was again elected for Dungarvan. Towards the close of the 
 same year he filled the office of Attorney-General (succeeding the pre- 
 sent Judge Perrin), and was a third time returned to Parliament by the 
 same constituency. In the autumn of 1836 the death of Baron Smith 
 gave the Government the disposal of a seat on the bench, and the oppor- 
 tunity which had long been desired of making a Catholic judge. Mr. 
 O'Loghlen was reluctant to accept the place of a puisne Baron, but his 
 refusal would have embarassed the Government, as to appoint a Catholic 
 they must have passed over the Solicitor-General (Richards), who was a 
 Protestant. But he sat only one term in the Exchequer, for the death 
 of Sir William M'Mahon vacated the Mastership of the Rolls, and Baron 
 O'Loghlen was promoted to it. He continued to hold that office until 
 his premature and lamented decease in 1842, when he was only in his 
 fifty-second year. In the year 1838, on the occasion of the Queen's 
 Coronation, a baronetcy had been conferred upon him. He was the first
 
 166 SKETCHES OP THE BAR. 
 
 Roman Catholic law-officer and first Roman Catholic judge since 1688, 
 a fact that gives a peculiar interest to his advancement. As 
 a lawyer, Mr. Sheil has given a just estimate of his talents ; and 
 he more than sustained his reputation on the bench, as it was ad- 
 mitted by men of all parties that an abler judge had never pre- 
 sided in the Rolls. Sir Michael O'Loghlen spoke several times effectively 
 in the House of Commons. In a debate on the consideration of the 
 Lords' Amendments to the Irish Church Bill of 1836, he handled the 
 Bishop of Exeter with just severity. In the same year he re-introduced 
 the bill to reform the Municipal Corporations, which in the previous year 
 had been brought in by Mr. Perrin, (to whose strenuous exertions the 
 measure owed its origin), but was defeated on that occasion by the Tory 
 opposition. A consolidation of the Grand Jury Laws and several other 
 legal improvements are also among Sir Michael's public services. 
 
 Three statues have been raised to the memory of this popular and dis- 
 tinguished judge, one by the members of the bar exclusively, executed by 
 M'Dowell, and erected in the Hall of the Four Courts ; another by the 
 body of Solicitors, the work of Mr. Christopher Moore ; and a third by 
 Mr. Kirke, raised by public subscription in Clare, and placed in the 
 County Court-house. 
 
 The tale of the descent from the Danish sea-attorney may be consi- 
 dered as a pleasant fancy of Mr. Shell's. Irish historians are familiar 
 with the sept or family of O'Loghlens, who were the lords or proprietors 
 of Burren, that attractive part of Clare adjoining Galway, which Ireton 
 in a letter to Cromwell describes as " a country where one could not get 
 a tree to hang a man upon, water to drown a man, or earth to bury him 
 in." Sir Michael was no doubt a descendant of this once powerful Irish 
 race, though the princes of so sterile a domain.
 
 167 
 
 ME. LESLIE FOSTER 
 
 AND THE LOUTH ELECTION OF 1826. 
 
 [FEBBUABY, 1829.] 
 
 " A man may be solemn without being wise, and circumstantial with- 
 out being accurate." 
 
 THE first opportunity I had of closely observing the 
 eminent statesman and celebrated legislator, whose 
 name is prefixed to this article, was afforded by the 
 Louth election. Mr. Foster is so intimately connected 
 with that remarkable event, that some account of the 
 details which accompanied it will not be inappropriate. 
 
 The standard of the Association had been raised in 
 Waterford, and Mr. Villiers Stuart* proclaimed himself 
 the antagonist of the house of Curraghmore. All eyes 
 were directed to the field, in which the great contest 
 was to be waged. Both the combatants brought here- 
 ditary rank and vast opulence as their allies, besides the 
 auxiliary passions of the powerful parties to which they 
 were respectively attached. There was, however, nothing 
 surprising in the enterprise of Mr. Stuart. During his 
 minority, the savings of his estate had accumulated to a 
 very large sum, and he was possessed of the means of 
 
 * The present Lord Stuart de Uecics.
 
 168 SKETCHES OP THE BAR. 
 
 engaging in a bold political adventure, without running 
 any risk of permanently injuring his fortune. It would 
 have been far stranger if, with his large property, and 
 his enlightened opinions, he had allowed the Beresfords 
 to maintain an undisputed masterdom in his county. 
 While the national attention was fixed upon the events 
 which were taking place in Waterford, news arrived in 
 Dublin, which excited a far greater sensation than the 
 contest between the two rival patricians of Dromana and 
 Curraghmore ; and it was announced that Mr. Alexander 
 Dawson, a retired barrister with a small fortune, had 
 started for Louth. 
 
 In that county the Protestant gentry were regarded 
 as omnipotent. For upwards of half a century, the 
 Jocelyns and the Fosters had returned two members 
 to parliament, and divided the county, like a family 
 borough, between them. A strong and apparently in- 
 dissoluble coalition had been effected between Lord 
 Boden and Lord Oriel ; and it was supposed to be im- 
 possible to make any effectual opposition to the union 
 of Orangeism and of Evangelism, which the wily veteran 
 of Ascendancy, and the frantic champion of the New 
 Reformation, had effected. To this combination of 
 power Mr. Dawson had neither wealth nor connections 
 to oppose. He had even intimated that he would not 
 bear any portion of the expenses, and must be returned 
 by popular contribution. The ordinary preparations 
 had not been made, and it was only three days before 
 the election commenced that his intention was declared. 
 Mr. Leslie Foster affected to treat his pretensions with 
 derision. He was to be seen amongst groups of sympa- 
 thising King's counsel, and assentating assistant bar- 
 risters, with his forefinger and thumb brought into
 
 MR. LESLIE FOSTER. 169 
 
 syllogistic conjunction, demonstrating the utter absurdity 
 of Alexander Dawson in attempting a contest. 
 
 A profound seriousness habitually pervades the coun- 
 tenance of Mr. Foster, who, accustomed to the most 
 abstruse meditations upon political economy, and con- 
 versant with, the deepest mysteries of legislation, has 
 seldom ^been known to use the risible organs for the 
 purposes for which they were originally intended. The 
 notion of a contest-in Louth, however, seemed to strike 
 him as so exceedingly ludicrous and extravagant, that 
 upon this occasion he broke through all the rules of 
 solemnity by which his physiognomy is usually con- 
 trolled. Still, he had left off laughing for such a length 
 of time, that his smile sat uneasily and unnaturally 
 upou him, and the muscles of merriment had become so 
 rusty and so destitute of pliability, that they accommo- 
 dated themselves slowly and ponderously to their func- 
 tions ; and many of his friends, observing these novel 
 phenomena of mirth, exclaimed, " What can be the 
 matter with Leslie Foster ! " 
 
 He, however, made ample compensation for this 
 sudden and unmeet deviation from his habitual gravity, 
 by the seriousness of his aspect, upon his appearance at 
 the hustings of Dundalk. I proceeded there before the 
 arrival of Mr. Foster. From the brow of a hill which 
 surmounts the town, when I was at a short distance 
 from it, I saw a vast multitude descending with banners 
 of green unfurled to the wind, and shouting as they 
 moved along. I could not at first discern with distinct- 
 ness the gentleman who was the immediate object of 
 this wild ovation ; but on approaching and mixing with 
 the dense mass of enthusiastic patriots, I saw seated in
 
 170 SKETCHES OF THE BAR. 
 
 an old gig Mr. Dawson, the aspiring candidate who had 
 presumed to enter the lists with the hereditary repre- 
 sentatives of the county of Louth. 
 
 He wore an old frock-coat covered with dust, and a 
 broad -brimmed weather-beaten hat which surmounted 
 a head that streamed with profuse perspiration ; his face 
 was ruddy with heat, but, notwithstanding the excite- 
 ment of the scene, preserved its habitual character of 
 sagacious quietism and tranquil intelligence; he did 
 not seem to be (though placed in a most extraordinary 
 and trying situation) at all conscious of the boldness of 
 the enterprise in which he was embarked, and was 
 perhaps the least moved of the multitude that were 
 rushing rapidly on; while the people were hurraing 
 about him, throwing their hats into the air, and catch- 
 ing them with a wild shriek and prance, (a common 
 denotement of joy among the lower Irish,) he sat com- 
 posedly in his old vehicle, and was busy in preserving 
 order and regularity in the procession. There were 
 some three or four ragged fiddlers before him, who 
 played with all their might, and in notes of the harshest 
 discord, a tune which they intended for the popular air 
 of " Nancy Dawson," and which was selected for no 
 other reason than that it was connected with his name. 
 It was only at intervals that the hard and vigorous 
 scraping of these village violins was distinctly audible ; 
 for the cries of " Down with Foster ! and Dawson for 
 ever ! " resounded from every side in yells of vehement 
 uproar, and monopolised the hearing faculties. A won- 
 derful enthusiasm prevailed through this vast gathering ; 
 and in the faces of the fierce and athletic peasants who 
 drew their favourite on, as they occasionally turned
 
 MR. LESLIE FOSTER. 171 
 
 their heads back to look on him, and shouted in the 
 retrospect, the strongest passions of mingled joy, fero- 
 city, and determination were expressed. 
 
 In a few minutes Mr. Dawson and his gig were 
 drawn into the main street of Dundalk, and stopped at 
 Magrath's hotel, which was the rendezvous of patriotism 
 during the election. There the committee, which had 
 been hastily gotten up, was collected, and welcomed 
 Mr. Dawson on his arrival. He descended amidst 
 loud acclamations, and soon after appeared at a window 
 in the tavern, from whence he addressed the people. 
 Several thousands were assembled, and in an instant 
 deep silence was obtained. In a plain, brief, perfectly 
 simple, and intelligible speech, Mr. Dawson told them 
 that, for their sake, and not to gratify his personal am- 
 bition, he was determined to oppose Mr. Foster and 
 Mr. Fortescue, and to break the Oriel and the Roden 
 yoke. His speech was received with the most rapturous 
 plaudits, and it was manifest that, whatever might be 
 the issue, a spirit had arisen among the people, which 
 portended far more than could have been originally 
 calculated. 
 
 While Mr. Dawson and others of the same party 
 were addressing the people, the carriages of the leading 
 gentry, drawn by four horses, were seen entering the 
 town, but, in order to avoid the multitude, wheeled 
 round through a street parallel to that in the opening of 
 which the people were gathered. Astonishment and 
 apprehension were visible in their faces. They perceived 
 already that a dreadful struggle was about to take place. 
 The wonted harangues having been delivered to the 
 people, Mr. Dawson and his committee proceeded to
 
 172 SKETCHES OP THE BAR. 
 
 the Court-house, which occupies one side of a square in 
 the centre of the town. 
 
 This building presents in its exterior a very beautiful 
 object. It was erected under the immediate superin- 
 tendence of Mr. Foster, who furnished the design, which 
 he took from the Temple of Theseus ; for Mr. Foster 
 values himself upon an universality of acquisition, and is 
 a sort of walking encyclopaedia, or peripatetic repertory of 
 all the arts and sciences, and is as profoundly skilled in 
 architecture as he is in any of the crafts of the Custom- 
 house or the mysteries of the Excise.* Opening Stuart's 
 Athens, he lighted on the Temple of Theseus, and 
 selected it as a model for a Court-house at Dundalk ; 
 and accordingly the most beautiful and inconvenient 
 temple in which the rites of justice have ever been 
 performed, has been produced under his architectural 
 auspices. 
 
 In that part of this incongruous edifice which is 
 allocated to the county business, the High -Sheriff 
 assembled the freeholders to read the writ. On his 
 left hand stood Mr. Leslie Foster. How changed from 
 him who had a few hours before derided as impotent 
 the efforts of the Roman Catholic body to push him 
 from his stool in the legislature ! His complexion is 
 
 * Mr. Foster had held since 1818 the lucrative place of Counsel to the 
 Commissioners of Excise and Customs. The salary was 1001. per annum. 
 The emoluments in the shape of fees, travelling expenses, &c., averaged 
 yearly 3,700., on the authority of the Treasury Minute of 1828, which, 
 when the office was abolished, fixed his retired allowance at 2,0001. per 
 annum. The appointment had been declared totally useless by a Com- 
 mission of Inquiry. In short, the entire transaction was one of those 
 "mysteries" of public iniquity, which at the present day almost exceed 
 belief.
 
 MR. LESLIE FOSTER. 173 
 
 naturally pale, but it now became deadly white. He 
 surveyed the dense mass of the people with awe, and 
 seemed to recoil from the groans and hooting with 
 which he was clamorously assailed. When proposed as 
 a candidate, he delivered a speech, in which he clumsily 
 sought to reconcile his auditors to his resistance of their 
 claims, and appeared to be aware of the wretchedness of 
 the task which he had imposed upon himself. The 
 only relief which he received was derived from the feel- 
 ing which the mention of Lord E/oden and his party pro- 
 duced in the assembly ; for obnoxious as that nobleman is 
 through the rest of Ireland, his fanaticism and narrow- 
 heartedness have secured for him a more condensed and 
 concentrated odium in the town of Dundalk. Mr. 
 Dawson spoke with equal brevity and perspicuity, and 
 made it his boast that he belonged to the middle classes, 
 and was best calculated to represent their feelings and 
 to do justice to their interests. 
 
 On the succeeding day the polling commenced with 
 activity, Mr. Fortescue being sustained by the Roden 
 influence, and a large portion of the Protestant aristo- 
 cracy; the rest of that body were the supporters of 
 Mr. Foster ; while Mr. Dawson relied upon a few Roman 
 Catholics of fortune, and on the spirit of agrarian 
 insurrection, which had broken out among the forty- 
 shilling freeholders. Some time elapsed before any 
 decided demonstrations of superiority took place ; and 
 the exertions of all parties were prodigious. Emis- 
 saries were despatched night and day through every 
 part of the county, and no means of persuasion were 
 spared by the Catholic, or of terror by the Protestant 
 faction, to bring the freeholders in. Priests and attor- 
 neys were seen scouring the country in all directions,
 
 174 SKETCHES OF THE BAR. 
 
 and landlords and drivers, armed with warrants of dis- 
 tress, knocked at the door of every hovel. The spirit 
 of exertion which animated the contending parties ex- 
 tended itself to the counsel, and Mr. North (the brother- 
 in-law of Mr. Foster), Mr. Murray, who was employed 
 by Mr. Fortescue, and Mr. Sheil, who acted for Mr. 
 Dawson, in the High Sheriff's booth, exhibited a zeal 
 and alacrity which a mere professional sympathy with 
 their clients could scarcely have supplied. 
 
 The Sheriff's booth was in a small room adjoining 
 the County-court, and offered, through the iron bars of 
 its single window on the ground-floor, a dismal spec- 
 tacle. A wall, at the distance of about four feet from 
 this window, rises to a considerable height, and forms a 
 small quadrangular space, covered with rank grass and 
 broken stones, in which the murderers at Wild-goose 
 Lodge are buried.* In intervals of leisure, the eyes of 
 the persons whose business it was to remain in this 
 room, would involuntarily rest upon this spot, and the 
 conversation turned from the subject of the election to 
 the terrible atrocity of which that dreary piece of 
 ground was the memorial. The meditations which it 
 supplied were, however, of brief duration, for a question 
 connected with a vote would arise to dissolve them. 
 
 As the election proceeded, the anxieties of Mr. Foster 
 augmented. He seemed to lose all command and self- 
 possession. He would rush into the Sheriff's booth 
 with a precipitate vehemence, which was the more re- 
 markable from the contrast which it formed with his usual 
 
 * This was an agrarian atrocity scarcely inferior in its sanguinary and 
 horrible details to the butchery of the Sheas, described by the author in 
 another paper.
 
 MR. LESLIE FOSTER. 175 
 
 systematic and well-ordered behaviour. " Soldiers ! " 
 he would cry, " Soldiers, Mr. High-Sheriff! I call upon 
 you to bring out troops, to protect me and my sup- 
 porters. My life is in peril my brother has been just 
 assailed we shall be massacred, if you persevere 
 in excluding troops from the town!" Such were the 
 exclamations which he would utter, under the influence 
 of mingled anger and alarm ; for I believe that his 
 fears, though utterly unfounded, were sincere. To 
 these appeals the friends of Mr. Dawson would oppose 
 equally vehement adjurations. "What! call out troops! 
 bayonet the people ! No, Mr. Foster ; the scenes of 
 1798 are not returned; the Sheriff will not be deluded 
 by the phantoms which issue from your over-excited 
 imagination, or accede to your sanguinary invocations/' 
 
 The High-Sheriff was placed in a very embarrassing 
 condition in the midst of this uproar of remonstrance. 
 It was said that his leanings were personally favourable 
 to Mr. Foster ; but he is a brewer of the famous Castle- 
 Bellingham ale, and the interests of his brewery being 
 at variance with his political predilections (if he have 
 any), he was kept in a state of painful hesitation, until 
 Mr. Chaigneau, who acted with the utmost impartiality 
 as Assessor, resolved his difficulties, by very properly 
 stating, that when evidence of danger should be laid 
 before the Sheriff upon oath, he would act upon it. 
 The town remained perfectly peaceable. There were, 
 indeed, loud cries and vehement shoutings, but no 
 personal molestation was offered to any body. A per- 
 petual procession of fiddlers and fife-players moved 
 through the streets, who played no other air than 
 " Nancy Dawson " from morning until twelve at night. 
 
 At the head of this body of everlasting minstrels
 
 176 SKETCHES OF THE BAR. 
 
 were two singular persons, who carried large banners of 
 green silk, with national emblems and mottoes figured 
 upon them. One of these strange individuals was a 
 Doctor a large, bloated, plethoric mass of a man, dressed 
 in old rusty black, covered with snuff, with a protu- 
 berant belly, and a short, waddling gait, which a quan- 
 tity of matutinal potations had rendered exceedingly 
 unsteady; while his countenance, composed of large 
 blotches of orbicular red, with a pair of large glazed 
 eyes, surmounted by white shaggy eyebrows, confirmed 
 the conjectures which the irregularity of his movements 
 suggested. The Doctor carried the Dawson standard, 
 having two or three stout fellows to co-operate in his 
 sustainment. When he arrived at the end of the street, 
 in turning round to direct the procession, of which he 
 was the chief leader, the Doctor would utter a loud but 
 inarticulate shout, and return towards the Court-house; 
 and when he had arrived there, he would again wheel 
 about at the head of the multitude with a similar 
 hurrah. Thus he traversed, from morning till sunset, 
 the principal street of the town, taking a glass of Irish 
 restorative at brief intervals in these strange perambu- 
 lations. 
 
 Next in command to the Doctor was old Harry Mills, 
 whose fame has since travelled across the Atlantic, and 
 who has not only had his health drunk in America, but 
 has received a subscription of twenty pounds from the 
 New World. This peasant was among the most con- 
 spicuous figures at the Louth election. He had about 
 four acres of land, for which he paid a high rent to his 
 landlord; and although he completely depended on 
 him, this " village Hampden," as he was called, with- 
 stood the petty despotism of his landlord, and voted in
 
 MK. LESLIE FOSTER. 177 
 
 despite of him for Mr. Dawson. Harry Mills had 
 gone through many a wild adventure. He had been 
 concerned in the affair of 1798, and was obliged to fly 
 the country ; but, as he said himself, he had the con- 
 solation of seeing an Orangeman's house on fire upon 
 the shore, as he was sailing in a fishing-boat from the 
 port of Dundalk. " Please your honour," Harry used 
 to say, "as I was leaving ould Ireland, I saw the 
 flames blazing out of the Cromwellian's house ; and 
 many a time, when I was keeping watch on the coast 
 of Guinea, I used to think of that same fire." Harry 
 was obliged to turn seaman, and became a sailor in a 
 slave-ship. He was taken by a French privateer ; and 
 I do not recollect exactly how he contrived, after years 
 had passed, to get back to Ireland. His spirit slumbered 
 within him until the Louth election, and then it broke 
 forth, like the flame from the Orangeman's house, 
 which had ministered with its flashes to his retrospec- 
 tive consolations. With that ocean-look and attitude 
 which belong to all sea-faring people, Harry blsnded 
 the sly cunning and observant sagacity which charac- 
 terize the Irish peasant, and offered, to a lover of the 
 moral picturesque, one of the most striking objects at 
 the Louth election. He marched, in company with the 
 Doctor, as second standard-bearer to Mr. Dawson, and 
 was as unwearied as his brother patriot in this his new, 
 and, if we could judge from his shouts and exclama- 
 tions, his delightful vocation. 
 
 But in drawing the figures and detailing the incidents 
 by which Mr. Foster was surrounded, I allow him, per- 
 haps, to leave the foreground of the picture. As the 
 election advanced, his fears augmented, and he pre- 
 sented new phenomena of terror. His opponents felt a 
 
 VOL. I. N
 
 178 SKETCHES OF THE BAR. 
 
 malevolent pleasure in watching the torture which he 
 was undergoing, and in observing the writhings of the 
 mind, which were apparent in his demeanour and coun- 
 tenance. But Mr. Dawson had in a few days ceased to 
 be the immediate object of his competition; for the 
 latter having obtained a vast majority, his return was 
 no longer matter of speculation, and the fiercest contest 
 was carried on between the Roden and the Oriel candi- 
 dates, who had originally entered in alliance into the 
 field. 
 
 Though they agreed in all political opinions, they 
 afforded proof of the promptitude with which abstract 
 questions are lost in individual interests. The Catholics 
 had carried Mr. Dawson' s election, and Mr. Foster and 
 his friends used all their efforts to induce them to 
 remain neutral ; observing that Mr. Foster (which was 
 a just remark) was not personally obnoxious, that he 
 was a good landlord, and that Lord Roden' s candidate 
 was not only politically, but fanatically opposed to 
 them. These arguments had their weight with the 
 liberal party ; although the more sagacious saw that it 
 would be a consummation of their victory, if they could 
 eject from the House of Commons an individual who 
 had contributed some talent, and a great deal of re- 
 search and industry, to the maintenance of his party. 
 Still, the antipathy to Lord Roden prevailed ; and the 
 detestation in which his wild, lugubrious doctrines were 
 held; the recollection of his having refused a small 
 piece of ground to erect a more commodious house of 
 Catholic worship j his penurious piety; his omission, 
 with all his ostentatious Christianity, to subscribe to a 
 single charitable institution at Dundalk; and other 
 circumstances of a similar character, made the majority
 
 ME. LESLIE POSTEE. 179 
 
 of the people rather incline towards Leslie Foster than 
 to the candidate by which the Roden interest was 
 represented. 
 
 It is a rule that, after a certain number of days, if 
 twenty persons do not poll before six o'clock, the booth 
 where this deficiency takes place shall close. Every 
 booth, excepting one, was shut about four o'clock ; and 
 if the Roden party could contrive to poll twenty before 
 six, they would have been entitled to hold the booth 
 open. About four o'clock, Leslie Foster had a majority 
 of nine or ten, and I believe all his votes were exhausted. 
 Some twelve or thirteen persons had polled in the booth 
 in question; and if Mr. Fortescue could procure so 
 many persons merely to poll, as would, with the votes 
 already given, make up twenty, his object would have 
 been secured. The issue of the contest, therefore, 
 depended upon minutes. The booth presented a most 
 singular scene. It was crowded to excess. Scarcely 
 space enough was left for the admission of the voters ; 
 and, indeed, it was the object of the Foster faction to 
 retard and obstruct their arrival by every possible expe- 
 dient. In order to consume time, fellows were put up 
 on Mr. Foster's tallies who had no votes, and their 
 rejection, and the clamour and confusion which it pro- 
 duced, served to consume the hour, of which every 
 instant was of value. Mr. Fortescue's party still con- 
 trived to poll a few freeholders, who were supplied by 
 the Catholics ; and it was matter of great doubt whether 
 the important and decisive number twenty could be 
 produced. 
 
 After five o'clock, the suspense of all parties became 
 increased, and every eye was alternately turned to the 
 spot where the freeholders were polled, and to the 
 
 N2
 
 180 SKETCHES OF THE BAB. 
 
 watches which were held in the hands of the spectators, 
 and which indicated the progress of time to that point 
 on which the issue was to hang. I never saw a deeper 
 expression of solicitude ; Mr. Fortescue himself was not 
 there ; but his partisans showed an anxiety as great as 
 if they had been personally engaged by individual 
 interest in the event. The friends of Mr. Foster, who 
 were gathered round the Sheriff, manifested, if possible, 
 a still greater intentness of expectation. Mr. Pentland, 
 who had been long Solicitor to the Custom House, of 
 which Mr. Foster was, since 1818, the Counsel, acted 
 as his agent, with an alacrity which inveterate habits of 
 professional sympathy had naturally produced. Near 
 him stood Mr. North,* whose naturally sweet and placid 
 countenance, without exhibiting the fierceness of fac- 
 tion, assumed for a moment an aspect of acerbity, while 
 his lips, that were as white as ashes, trembled and 
 quivered in the expression of the few words to which 
 he occasionally gave utterance. 
 
 But where was Leslie Foster all this time? This 
 question, which the reader will probably ask, I put to 
 myself; and, on turning my eyes round, I was at first 
 at a loss to discover him. At length I observed a 
 person sitting in a remote corner of the room, upon a 
 chair which was thrown back in such a way that it was 
 balanced on two legs, while the head of the somewhat 
 round and squat gentleman by whom it was occupied 
 leaned against the wall. His hat was drawn over his 
 brows, and his eyes were closed. His cheeks, which 
 seemed to have been originally full and plentiful, ap- 
 peared to have suffered a cadaverous collapse. Thick 
 
 * Mr. John H. North, an eminent and highly-accomplished member 
 of the Irish bar ; he was married to Mr. Foster's sister.
 
 MR. LESLIE POSTER. 181 
 
 drops of perspiration trickled down his visage, which he 
 occasionally wiped away with an Orange handkerchief 
 held in his right hand ; while a watch, on which, how- 
 ever, he did not look, was in the other. I did not at 
 first recognize this extraordinary figure; but upon a sud- 
 den it started up, and on the opening of the eyes, and 
 the full disclosure of the countenance, I thought I could 
 perceive some faint resemblance to Leslie Foster. He 
 seemed, at first, to stand in an attitude of cataleptic 
 horror ; and when" he recovered' himself, he clasped his 
 hands, and, unable to sustain his agony, rushed with a 
 frantic speed out of the room. He had given every- 
 thing up for lost ; but he was mistaken. The twenty 
 votes had not been made up. The clock struck six, 
 and John Leslie Foster was saved from being buried by 
 torchlight, under the new Act of Parliament, in the 
 churchyard of Dundalk.* 
 
 Mr. Dawson and Mr. Foster were returned as duly 
 elected. The latter did not attend at the hustings 
 when the event of the election was proclaimed. He 
 set off for Cullen, the seat of Lord Oriel, in that 
 heaving and agitation of mind, which the stormy 
 passions leave behind, after the immediate occasion 
 of their excitement has ceased to act. His flight 
 was considered as most inglorious, and it was boasted 
 by the Catholic orators, that he did not dare to meet 
 them. This was a great disappointment to Mr. Sheil 
 and other dealers in harangue, who expected to show 
 off at his expense. He very wisely effected his retreat 
 
 * The act alluded to abolished the ancient barbarous custom of driving 
 a stake through the body, in cases where a coroner's jury had returned a 
 verdict of felo-de-se. Sepulture was allowed in the churchyard of the 
 parish, by night, between the hours of nine and twelve o'clock.
 
 182 SKETCHES OF THE BAE. 
 
 to his uncle's residence, whose octogenarian philo- 
 sophy did not prevent him from feeling a deep and 
 corroding interest in the event. Had Mr. Foster 
 remained sequestered in the beautiful woods which the 
 Speaker of the Irish House of Commons lived to see 
 rise about him, he would have acted wisely. But after 
 a short interval, the public were astonished by a 
 resentful lucubration from his pen, in which he vilified 
 the proceedings of the Catholics, and inveighed with 
 great virulence against the priests. 
 
 He was guilty of another indiscretion, or rather a 
 piece of bad taste, as it was far more deserving of 
 laughter than of condemnation. Having fled from 
 Dundalk, where Mr. Dawson was chaired, he caused 
 himself to be put through a similar honour in his 
 uncle's demesne ; all the vassals and retainers of Lord 
 Oriel, who could be procured, were collected together, 
 and Mr. Foster having been placed upon the shoulders 
 of four stout Protestant tenants, was conveyed through 
 the village of Cullen, amidst the plaudits of the yeo- 
 manry, the hurrahs of the schoolmaster, the sexton, 
 and the parish clerk, and the acclamations of the 
 police.
 
 183 
 
 MR. LESLIE FOSTER, 
 
 AS A BARRISTER, A SCHOLAR, AND A COMMISSIONER OF 
 EDUCATION. 
 
 [MARCH, 1829.] 
 
 I HAVE hitherto considered Mr. Foster as a candi- 
 date, and I should give an equally minute account of 
 him as a Member of Parliament, but that I have not 
 had the same fortunate opportunities of observation. 
 I do, indeed, remember an incident, which may be 
 considered, to a certain extent, illustrative of his 
 influence as a legislative speaker; and in the lack of 
 any other means of describing him, it may not be 
 inappropriate to set it. down. 
 
 I was under the gallery of the House of Commons 
 during the debate on the Catholic question in the 
 year 1825. The house was exceedingly full. Mr. 
 Foster rose to speak, and the effect of Ids appearance 
 on his legs was truly wonderful. In an instant the 
 House was cleared. The rush to the door leading to 
 the tavern upstairs, where the members find a refuge
 
 184 SKETCHES OP THE BAR. 
 
 from the soporific powers of their brother legislators, 
 was tremendous. I was myself swept away by the 
 torrent, and carried from my place by the crowd, that 
 fled from the solemn adjuration with which Mr. Foster 
 commenced his oration. The single phrase "Mr. 
 Speaker" was indeed uttered with such a tone as 
 indicated the extent of the impending evil ; and finding 
 already the influence of drowsiness upon me, I followed 
 the example which was given by the representatives of 
 the people, who, whatever differences may have existed 
 amongst them upon the mode of settling Ireland, 
 appeared to coincide in their estimate of Mr. Foster's 
 elocution. From the Treasury Benches ; the Opposition, 
 and the neutral quarters of the House, a simultaneous 
 concourse hurried up to Bellamy's, and left Mr. Foster 
 in full possession of that solitude which he had thus 
 instantaneously and miraculously produced. 
 
 I proceeded up stairs with some hundreds of honour- 
 able gentlemen. The scene which Bellamy's presents 
 to a stranger is striking enough. Two smart girls, 
 whose briskness and neat attire made up for their want 
 of beauty, and for the invasions of time, of which their 
 cheeks showed the traces, helped out tea in a room in 
 the corridor. It was pleasant to observe the sons of 
 Dukes and Marquesses, and the possessors of twenties 
 and thirties of thousands a year, gathered round these 
 damsels, and soliciting a cup of that beverage which it 
 was their office to administer. These Bellamy bar- 
 maids seemed so familiarized with their occupation, 
 that they went through it with perfect nonchalance, 
 and would occasionally turn with petulance, in which 
 they asserted the superiority of their sex to rank and
 
 MR. LESLIE FOSTER. 185 
 
 opulence, from the noble or wealthy suitors for a 
 draught of tea, by whom they were surrounded. The 
 unfortunate Irish members were treated with a peculiar 
 disdain, and were reminded of their provinciality by 
 the look of these Parliamentary Hebes, who treated 
 them as mere colonial deputies should be received in 
 the purlieus of the state. 
 
 I passed from these ante-chambers to the tavern, 
 where I found a. number of members assembled at 
 dinner. Half an hour had passed away, toothpicks 
 and claret were now beginning to appear, and the 
 business of mastication being concluded, that of diges- 
 tion had commenced, and many an honourable gentle- 
 man, I observed, who seemed to prove that he was 
 born only to digest. At the end of a long corridor, 
 which opened from the room where the diners were 
 assembled, there stood a waiter whose office it was to 
 inform any interrogator what gentleman was speaking 
 below stairs. Nearly opposite the door sat two English 
 County members. They had disposed of a bottle each, 
 and just as the last glass was emptied, one of them 
 called out to the annunciator at the end of the passage 
 for intelligence; "Mr. Foster on his legs" was the 
 formidable answer. "Waiter, bring another bottle," 
 was the immediate effect of this information, which 
 was followed by a similar injunction from every table 
 in the room. I perceived that Mr. Bellamy owed great 
 obligations to Mr. Foster. But the latter did not limit 
 himself to a second bottle ; again and again the same 
 question was asked, and again the same announcement 
 returned "Mr. Foster upon his legs." The answer 
 seemed to fasten men in inseparable adhesiveness to 
 their seats. Thus two hours went by, when at length
 
 186 SKETCHES OP THE BAR. 
 
 "Mr. Plunket on his legs" was heard from the end of 
 the passage, and the whole convocation of compotators 
 rose together and returned to the House. 
 
 Some estimate of the eloquence of Mr. Foster may 
 be formed from this evidence of its effects. I am 
 unable myself to supply, from personal observation, 
 any better detail of it. But it is not necessary ; Mr. 
 Plunket, in a single phrase, has described his legislative 
 faculties, and on the night of which I have been 
 speaking remarked that "he had turned history into 
 an old almanack."* 
 
 I should not omit to mention, in justice to Mr. 
 Foster, that in converting the annals of mankind to 
 this valuable purpose, he exhibits a wonderful diligence. 
 His speeches are the result of great industry, and he 
 takes care not to deliver himself of any crude abortive 
 notions, such as are thrown off in extempore debate, 
 but after allowing his meditations to mature in a due 
 process of conception in his mind, brings them forth 
 
 * The remarkable passage alluded to is thns given in Hansard, sadly 
 marred, no doubt, in the reporting, but accurately enough to indicate the 
 wise drift of the orator : " Time was the greatest innovator of all. VVhile 
 man slept, or stopped in his career, the course of time was rapidly chang- 
 ing the aspect of all human affairs. All that a wise government could 
 do was to keep as close as possible to the wings of time, to watch his 
 progress, and accommodate their motions to his flight. Arrest his course 
 they could not, but they might vary their institutions, so as to reSect 
 his varying aspects and forms. If this were not the spirit which ani- 
 mated them, history would be no better than an old almanack," &c. 
 28th Feb. 1825. These are the words which have since been so often 
 and so absurdly misrepresented, as if Lord Plunket had spoken irreve- 
 rently of history itself. Sir Robert Inglis seems to have been the first to 
 give that disingenuous turn to them. In a speech on the Catholic Ques- 
 tion in the following May, we find him observing " The Right Hon. 
 gentleman, the Attorney-General for Ireland, very conveniently for his 
 views, desired to give us none of that old almanack, history,"
 
 MR. LESLIE FOSTER. 187 
 
 with a laborious effort, and presents his intellectual 
 offspring to the House in the "swaddling" phrase- 
 ology in which they are always carefully wrapped 
 up.* 
 
 It was, indeed, at one time believed and studiously 
 propagated by his friends, that he did not prepare his 
 orations, and that he poured out his useless erudition, 
 and his mystical dogmas, without premeditation or 
 research. That erroneous conjecture has been recently 
 corrected ; for, upon a late occasion, when the Chaplain 
 of the House of Commons was reading prayers, at 
 four o'clock, Mr. Foster, who appeared to those at a 
 distance to be kneeling in a posture of profound parlia- 
 mentary piety, with his hands raised, as is the fashion 
 with the devout, to his lips, was heard to mutter 
 through his fingers " Had it been my good fortune, 
 Mr. Speaker, to have caught your eye at an earlier 
 period of the debate, I should have gone more at 
 length, than I now, at this late hour of the night, 
 intend to do, into the details of a question, upon which 
 the integrity of the constitution, the sacred privileges 
 of the Protestants of Ireland, and the purity of the 
 reformed religion, entirely depend." Mr. Richard 
 Martin, the then member for Connemara,f who 
 
 * The only dictionary in which the word " swaddle" is to be found in 
 this signification, is Grose's Lexicon Balatronicvm, or, Dictionary of 
 Slang, London, 1811. A "swaddler" is there defined "the Irish name 
 for a methodist." A certain street in Dublin, inhabited by several 
 " nnco-pious" judges and lawyers, has long gone by the name of Swaddling- 
 bar. 
 
 f Better known as Dick Martin, an Irish celebrity of a species now 
 extinct, like the megaiheria. He long represented the county of Gal way- 
 Mr. Sheil, by a pleasant synecdoche, calls him member for his own prin- 
 cipality of Connemara.
 
 188 SKETCHES OF THE BAR. 
 
 happened to hear Mr. Foster, communicated this 
 important discovery; and it is now well ascertained, 
 that Mr. Foster takes exceedingly great if not very 
 meritorious pains at his oratorical laboratory, and 
 passes many a midnight vigil in compounding those 
 opiates, with which, at the expense of his own slumbers, 
 he lulls the House of Commons to repose. 
 
 Mr. Foster may be considered in the various phases 
 
 of barrister, scholar, Commissioner of Education, and 
 
 counsel to the Commissioners of Customs and Excise. 
 
 As a member of the Bar, he is not very remarkable. 
 
 He is not in considerable business, which I am inclined 
 
 to attribute to his dedication of himself to political 
 
 pursuits; for he came to the profession under great 
 
 advantages, having industry, a tenacious memory, and 
 
 the patronage of the late Chief-Justice Downes. I 
 
 think that he would have succeeded in the Court of 
 
 Chancery, had he attended exclusively to the Bar ; for 
 
 certainly he is not destitute of the powers of clear 
 
 reasoning and perspicuous exposition. His great fault 
 
 is, that he diffuses an air of importance over all that 
 
 he says, looks, and does, which is not ^infrequently in 
 
 ludicrous contrast with the matter before him. Instead 
 
 of speaking trippingly upon the tongue, he loads his 
 
 utterance with an immense weight of intonation, and is 
 
 not more ponderous and oracular in Parliament than 
 
 at the Bar. That gravity, which Rochefoucauld has so 
 
 well called a "mystery of the body/' pervades his 
 
 gesture, and sits in eternal repose upon his countenance. 
 
 He advances to his seat at the inner bar, like a priest 
 
 walking in a procession; he lays down his bag upon 
 
 the green table, as if he were depositing a treasure ; he 
 
 bows to the court like a mandarin before the Emperor
 
 MR. LESLIE FOSTER. 189 
 
 of China; quotes Tidd's Practice, as a Rabbi would 
 read the Talmud ; and opens " The Rules and 
 Orders," as a sorcerer would unclasp a book of incan- 
 tation. 
 
 The solemnity which distinguishes him in court, 
 attends him . out of it. He traverses the Hall with a 
 gait and aspect of mystical meditation ; and when he 
 has divested himself of his forensic habiliments, still 
 takes care to retain his walk of egregious dignity upon 
 his return to Merrion-square. Mr. Foster has ascer- 
 tained with exact precision the distance from his house 
 to the hall of the Four Courts ; and has counted the 
 number of paces which it is requisite that he should 
 perform, whether he should go through College-green, 
 or by any of the lanes at the back of Dublin Castle. 
 Both these ways have their attractions. In the centre 
 of College-green stands the statue of King William, on 
 which Mr. Foster sometimes pauses to cast a look, in 
 which of late some melancholy has been observed. 
 The purlieus of the Castle are, however, his more 
 favourite, and perhaps appropriate walks, especially 
 since the order for Lord Anglesey's removal has ar- 
 rived. But whichever route he adopts, he never de- 
 viates from that evenness and regularity of gait with 
 which he originally enumerated the number of paces 
 from his residence to the Hall. 
 
 I was a good deal at a loss to account for this peculiar 
 demeanour, until I had heard that Mr. Foster had spent 
 some time at Constantinople. He was introduced upon 
 one occasion to the Grand Seignior (a scene which he 
 describes with great particularity), and has ever since 
 retained an expression of dignity, which it is supposed 
 he copied from the Reis Eflendi, if not from the Sultan
 
 190 SKETCHES Or THE BAR. 
 
 himself. Hitherto the negotiations with the Porte 
 have been unsuccessful. If Mr. Poster were sent out 
 as our minister, such a sympathetic solemnity would 
 take place between him and the Grand Vizier, that 
 many difficulties would, it is likely, be got rid of; and 
 he would, by his Asiatic diplomacy of countenance, and 
 his oriental gravity of look, accomplish far more than 
 Lord Strangford was able to effect.* 
 
 As a scholar, Mr. Leslie Foster is, beyond all doubt, 
 a person of very various and minute erudition. In 
 every drawing-room, and at every dinner-table at which 
 he appears, amazement is produced by the vastness of 
 his knowledge ; and under-graduates from the college, 
 and young ladies whose stockings are darned with blue 
 silk, wonder that even a head of such great diameter 
 should be capable of containing such enormous masses 
 of the most recondite and diversified lore. The Pre- 
 sident of the Royal Academy of Laputa, or the father 
 of Martinus Scriblerus, could not have surpassed him 
 in the character, the extent, and the application of his 
 knowledge. No matter what topics may be presented 
 in the trivialities of discourse, he avails himself of every 
 opportunity to evacuate his erudition. t He buries 
 
 * " Gravity," observes the author of " The Characteristics,'* "is of the 
 very essence of imposture." Mr. Fox once said of Lord Thurlow " I 
 wonder was any man ever so wise as Lord Thurlow looks." 
 
 t This characteristic pedantry exposed him after his elevation to the 
 bench to an occasional hit, which afforded the bar considerable amuse- 
 ment. Upon one occasion, in a revenue case, a grave medical witness 
 was formally giving the result of his observations upon a certain deposit 
 of chemical substances. " In fact, Doctor Apjohn," interrupted the 
 Baron, "the substance was only mud." "Perhaps," replied the wit- 
 ness drily, " your Lordship would favour the jury with the definition of 
 mud."
 
 MR. LESLIE FOSTER. 191 
 
 every petty subject under the enormity of his learning, 
 and piles a mountain on every pigmy theme. If he 
 finds a boy whipping a top, he stops to explain the 
 principles upon which it is put into motion. He is 
 versed in all points of science connected with the 
 playing of marbles. Should a pair of bellows fall in 
 his way, he enters into a dissertation upon the structure 
 of the human lungs, and applies to those domestic 
 conveniences of which there is such a want in the 
 modern Athens, his learning in hydraulics. In short, 
 he is omniscient ;* and if I were a believer in the trans- 
 migration of souls, I should be disposed to think that 
 the spirit of the professor at Bruges, who challenged 
 all mankind to dispute with him " de omni scibili et de 
 quolibet ente," had reappeared in his person ; though I 
 hope that he would be less puzzled in solving the 
 question of law proposed by Sir Thomas More to that 
 celebrated scholar respecting a replevin.! 
 
 * Mr. Forster is deeply versed in Irish antiquities. He alleges that 
 he discovered, in the ccranty of Kerry, a very singular building, which is 
 called Staigne Fort. General Vallancey thought that it was a Phoenician 
 theatre. I am not aware what conjecture Mr. Foster formed respecting 
 it ; probably he takes it for an old conventicle, employed by the Irish 
 Christians before Popery was in use. Mr. Bland, the writer of an essay 
 in the Transactions of the Soyal Irish Academy, makes the following 
 observations upon Mr. Forster's claims to the discovery of this building : 
 "About nine years back, Mr. Leslie Foster visited this county, and 
 passed Staigne by unnoticed; but being prevailed on by me, he was 
 reluctantly induced to return and see it. He afterwards published, hi 
 some periodical work or newspaper, an account of it ; and being ignorant, 
 I suppose, of what I have stated respecting Mr. Pelham's correspon- 
 dence witli General Vallancey, he considered himself the first discoverer 
 of this ancient structure." Vol. XIV. p. 22. 
 
 t See the Biogrwphia Britannica, art. Sir T. More." Wheii More 
 was at Bruges, in the retinue of Tonstall, bishop of Durham, in la GO, an 
 arrogant fellow set up a challenge that he would answer any question
 
 192 SKETCHES OP THE BAR. 
 
 I pass, by a natural transition, from the vast acquire- 
 ments of Mr. Foster, to that office which, from its 
 connection with learning, it would appear at first view 
 that he was admirably qualified to fill. He was, for a 
 considerable period, a Commissioner of Education, with 
 an enormous salary ; and thus, with the sums which he 
 has received as a Commissioner of Inquiry into the 
 Courts of Justice, and his vast emoluments as Counsel 
 to the Commissioners of Customs and Excise, Mr. 
 Poster has poured an immense quantity of the public 
 money into his coffers. 
 
 But however the love of learning, and its unquestion- 
 able possession, might appear to render Mr. Foster an 
 eligible person to investigate the progress of education, 
 yet his predilections, both political and religious, were 
 so strong, that the Roman Catholics considered the 
 appointment of a person so legally orthodox, to report 
 upon the state of their schools, as an injustice. In 
 order to give some aspect of fairness to this proceeding, 
 and to create a counterpoise to his prejudices, the 
 government united with Mr. Foster, a gentleman in 
 every way well adapted to encounter him, the Chief 
 Remembrancer of the Court of Exchequer, Mr. Blake. 
 I believe that it was not anticipated that that gentleman 
 would have approved himself so stout and uncompro- 
 mising an assertor of the interests of his country, and 
 the honour of his religion. Mr. Foster had originally, 
 
 that could be propounded to him. Upon which Sir Thomas put up this 
 question: 'An averia capta in witJiernamia sint irreplegiabilial' 
 ' Are cattle taken in withernam irrepleviable ? ' adding, that there was 
 one of the ambassador's retinue who was ready to dispute with him upon 
 it. But the fellow not understanding the law terms was gravelled, and 
 deservedly laughed at."
 
 MR. LESLIE FOSTER. 193 
 
 from his previous habits of mystical research, and from 
 his familiarity with the mysterious, great advantages 
 over Mr. Blake, in examining the Catholic priesthood 
 upon questions of dogmatic theology ; but Mr. Blake, 
 who has extraordinary powers of acquiring knowledge, 
 and of fitting his mind to every intellectual occupation, 
 resolved to make himself a match for this Aquinas of 
 Protestantism, and threw himself off from the heights 
 of the law into the deepest lore into which Mr. Foster 
 had ever plunged. He rose from the dark bottoms of 
 divinity as black and as begrimed with mysteries as his , 
 brother Commissioner; and thus prepared, they set off 
 upon their tour through the Catholic colleges of 
 Ireland. 
 
 . The object of Leslie Foster was to bring out what- 
 ever was unfavourable to the Irish priesthood; while 
 Mr. Blake (himself a Roman Catholic) justly endea- 
 voured to rectify the misconstructions of his brother 
 inquirer, and to present the doctrines of his religion, 
 and the character of its ministers, in the least excep- 
 tionable form. When Mr. Foster got hold of a country 
 priest, and put him to his shifts by some interrogatory 
 touching the decrees of the earlier Councils, Mr. Blake 
 would intervene, and rescue his fellow-Catholic from 
 his embarrassments by suggesting a solution of the 
 difficulty ; and, without getting into it, helped him out 
 of the deep quagmire of theology into which his 
 examiner had led him. If Mr. Foster attempted to 
 quote a passage from some moth-eaten folio with any 
 deviation from a just fidelity of citation, Mr. Blake 
 would immediately detect him. Mr. Foster would rely 
 upon the disputable ethics of some ancient Catholic 
 schoolman; and Mr. Blake would straight produce a 
 VOL. i. o
 
 194 SKETCHES OF THE BAR. 
 
 Protestant divine who inculcated the same doctrine. 
 Sometimes Mr. Blake, not contented with acting on 
 the defensive, would invade the enemy's territory ; and 
 if an ex-priest were tendered by Mr. Foster for cross- 
 examination, the Popish Remembrancer of the Ex- 
 chequer exhibited all his acumen and dexterity in 
 exposing the renegade. 
 
 A person of the name of Dickson, who had been a 
 Catholic priest, was produced in order to vilify 
 Maynooth, where he had received his eleemosynary 
 education. Mr. Blake took hold of him, and, by a 
 series of admirable interrogatories, eminently distin- 
 guished by astuteness and power of combination, laid 
 this deserter of his altars bare, and tore off his apostate 
 surplice. But this was not the most remarkable 
 instance in which Mr. Foster was foiled in his efforts 
 to convert his office into the means of promoting his 
 religious and political opinions. He had the misfor- 
 tune to fall into the hands of the Provincial of the 
 Jesuits in Ireland, the Rev. Mr. Kenny. 
 
 A desire was, if I rightly recollect, expressed by 
 Sir T. Lethbridge, that a Jesuit should be produced 
 at the bar of the House of Commons, in order that 
 some sort of judgment should be formed of the peculiar 
 nature of the ecclesiastical animal. Mr. Kenny is the 
 most perfect specimen of this class of Catholic pheno- 
 mena that could be produced. He wants, it must be 
 confessed, some of the external attributes which should 
 enter into the composition of the beau ideal of 
 Jesuitism. He is by no means gracefully constructed ; 
 for there is a want of level about his shoulders, and his 
 countenance, when uninvested with his spiritual ex- 
 pression, is rather of a forbidding and lurid cast. The
 
 ME. LESLIE FOSTER. 195 
 
 eyes are of deep and fiery jet, and so disposed, that 
 while one is bent in humility to the earth, the other 
 is raised in inspiration to Heaven ; brows of thick and 
 bushy black spread in straight lines above them. His 
 rectilinear forehead is strongly indented with passion, 
 satire sits upon his thin lips, and a livid hue is 
 spread over a quadrangular face, the sunken cheeks 
 of which exhibit the united effects of monastic absti- 
 nence and profound meditation. The countenance is 
 Irish in its configuration ; but Mr. Kenny was educated 
 at Palermo, and a Sicilian suavity of manner is thrown, 
 like a fine silken veil, over his strong Hibernian 
 features. The beaming rays of his eye are seldom 
 allowed to break out, for they are generally bent to 
 the ground, and habitually concealed by lids, fringed 
 with long dark lashes, which drop studiously over 
 them. 
 
 Sucn is the outward Jesuit; his talents and ac- 
 quirements are of the first order, and in argumentative 
 eloquence he has no superior in Ireland. Leslie 
 Foster, in the spirit of theological chivalry, and having 
 set up as a knight-errant against popery, happened to 
 meet with this disciple of Loyola, and resolved to break 
 a syllogism with him. Mr. Kenny was duly summoned 
 to attend the Commissioners of Education, and upon 
 this occasion the interposition of Mr. Blake was quite 
 unnecessary. With a blended expression of affected 
 humility and bitter mockery, the follower of Ignatius 
 answered all Mr. Foster's questions, correcting the 
 virulence of sarcasms by the softness of his mellifluous 
 cadences, and by the religious clasping of his hands, 
 which were raised in such a way as to touch the extre- 
 mities of his chin, while he lamented, with a dolorous 
 
 o 2
 
 196 SKETCHES OF THE BAR. 
 
 voice, the lamentable ignorance and delusion of the 
 gentleman who could, in the nineteenth century, put 
 him such preposterous interrogatories. Leslie Foster 
 was baffled by every response, and amidst the jeers of 
 his brother Commissioners, with Mr. Blake compas- 
 sionating him on one side, and Mr. Glascot nudging 
 him at the other, while Frankland Lewis trod upon his 
 toes, was at length persuaded to give up his desperate 
 undertaking. 
 
 Some of the questions put to the Jesuit were rather 
 of an offensive character; and one of the Commis- 
 sioners, when the examination had concluded, begged 
 that he would make allowance for the imperious sense 
 of duty which had induced Mr. Foster to commit an 
 apparent violation of the canons of good breeding. 
 " Holy Ignatius ! " exclaimed the son of Loyola, hold- 
 ing his arms meekly upon his breast, "I am not 
 offended I never saw a more simple-minded gentle- 
 man in all my life ! " * 
 
 * In the year 1830 Mr. Foster was created a puisne Baron of the 
 Exchequer by the Duke of Wellington's Administration. His judicial 
 character cannot be better delineated than it is in the short motto pre- 
 fixed to the sketch, "A man may he solemn without being wise, and 
 circumstantial without being accurate." If another touch is required 
 to complete the picture, the following anecdote will supply it. Chief 
 Baron O'Grady, on his resignation in 1831, retired to his country-seat 
 to pass the brief remainder of his days. Some of his household had a 
 pet owl, whose cage happened to be placed one day in the old chief's 
 chamber. He endured it for some time, but at length he became uneasy 
 and called to a member of his family : " Take away that owl he 
 reminds me of Leslie Foster."
 
 197 
 
 CALAMITIES OF THE BAR. 
 
 [FEBEUABT, 1826.] 
 
 NOT very long after I had been called to the Bar, I 
 one day chanced to observe a person standing beside a 
 pillar in the Hall of the Four Courts, the peculiar 
 wretchedness of whose aspect attracted my notice. I 
 was upon my way to the subterranean chamber where 
 the, wigs and gowns of lawyers are kept, and was revolv- 
 ing at the moment the dignity and importance of the 
 station to which I had been raised by my enrolment 
 among the members of the Irish Bar. I was inter- 
 rupted in this interesting meditation by the miserable 
 object upon which my eyes had happened to rest ; and 
 without being a dilettante in affliction, I could not help 
 pausing to consider the remarkable specimen of wretch- 
 edness that stood before me. 
 
 Had the unfortunate man been utterly naked, his 
 condition would not have appeared so pitiable. His 
 raiment served to set his destitution off. A coat which 
 had once been black, but which appeared to have been 
 steeped in a compound of all rusty hues, hung in rags
 
 198 SKETCHES OF THE BAR. 
 
 about him. It was closely pinned at his throat, to con- 
 ceal the absence of a neckcloth. He was without a 
 vest. A shirt of tattered yellow, which from a time 
 beyond memory had adhered to his withered body, 
 appeared through numerous apertures in his upper 
 garment, and jutted out round that portion of his per- 
 son where a garb without a name is usually attached. 
 The latter part of his attire, which was conspicuous for 
 a prismatic diversity of colour, was fastened with a 
 piece of twine to the extreme button of his upper habili- 
 ment, and very incompletely supplied the purpose for 
 which the progenitors of mankind, after their first 
 initiation into knowledge, employed a vegetable veil. 
 Through the inferior regions of this imperfect integu- 
 ment, there depended a shred or two of that inner 
 garment, which had been long sacred to nastiness, and 
 which the fingers of the laundress never had profaned. 
 His stockings were compounded of ragged worsted and 
 accumulated mire. They covered a pair of fleshless 
 bones, but did not extend to the feet, the squalid naked- 
 ness of which was visible through the shoes that hung 
 soaked with wet about them. 
 
 He was dripping with rain, and shivering with cold. 
 His figure was shrunken and diminutive. A few grey 
 locks were wildly scattered upon a small and irregularly 
 shaped head. Despair and famine sat upon his face, 
 which was of the strong Celtic mould, with its features 
 thrown in disorder, and destitute of all symmetry or 
 proportion, but deriving from the passions, by which 
 they were distorted, an expression of ferocious haggard- 
 ness. His beard was like that which grows upon the 
 dead. The flesh was of a cadaverous complexion. His 
 grey eyes, although laden with rheum, caught a savage-
 
 CALAMITIES OF THE BAR. 199 
 
 ness from the eyelids which were bordered with a jagged 
 riin of diseased and bloody red. A hideous mouth was 
 lined Avith a row of shattered ebony, and from the in- 
 stinct of long hunger had acquired an habitual gape for 
 food. The wretched man was speaking vehemently and 
 incoherently to himself. It was a sort of insane jabber- 
 ing a mad soliloquy, in. which " my lord " was fre- 
 quently repeated. 
 
 I turned away .with a mingled sentiment of disgust 
 and horror, and, endeavouring to release my recollec- 
 tion from the painful image which so frightful an object 
 had left behind, I proceeded to invest myself in my 
 professional trappings, tied a band with precision about 
 my neck, complained, as is the wont with the junior 
 bar, that my wig had not been duly besprinkled with 
 powder, and that its curls were not developed in suffi- 
 cient amplitude, set it rectilinearly upon my head, and, 
 after casting a look into the glass, and marking the 
 judicial organ in a certain prominence upon my brow, 
 I readjusted the folds of my gown, and reascended the 
 Hall of the Four Courts in a pleasurable state of un- 
 qualified contentedness with myself. I directed my 
 steps to the Court of Chancery, and, having no better 
 occupation, I determined to follow the example of cer- 
 tain sagacious aspirants to the office of Commissioner 
 of Bankrupts, and to dedicate the day to an experiment 
 in nodding, which I had seen put into practice with 
 effect.* 
 
 * When this was written, the present Court of Bankruptcy, with two 
 Judges, or Commissioners, had not been established. The business was 
 distributed in rotation among four " sets" of Commissioners, giving the 
 Chancellor the patronage of a number of places of no great emolu- 
 ment, but sufficient to make them objects of desire to junior members of 
 the bar, or even of ambition to barristers of standing, whose professional
 
 200 SKETCHES OF THE BAR. 
 
 There are a set of juvenile gentlemen who have taken 
 for their motto the words of a Scotch ballad, which, 
 upon a recent motion for an injunction, Lord Eldon 
 affected not to understand, but which, if he had looked 
 for a moment upon the benches of youthful counsellors 
 before him, while in the act of delivering a judicial 
 aphorism, he would have found interpreted in one of 
 the senses of which they are susceptible, and have dis- 
 covered a meaning in " We're a' noddin," of obvious 
 application to the Bar. Confident in the flexibility of 
 my neck, and a certain plastic facility of expression, I 
 imagined that I was not without some talent for assen- 
 tation ; and accordingly seated myself in such a place 
 that the eye of my Lord Manners, in seeking refuge 
 from the inquisitorial physiognomy of Mr. Plunket, 
 would probably rest upon me. 
 
 The Court began to fill. The young aristocracy of 
 the Bar, the sons of judges, and fifth cousins of mem- 
 bers of parliament, and the whole rising generation of 
 the Kildare-street Club, gradually dropped in. Next 
 appeared at the inner bar, the more eminent practi- 
 tioners tottering under their huge bags, upon which 
 many a briefless senior threw a mournful and repining 
 glance. First came Mr. Pennefather, with his calm 
 and unruffled forehead, his flushed cheek, and his sub- 
 tilising and somewhat over-anxious eye.* He was suc- 
 
 gains were not sufficient to make them indifferent to a secure though sinull 
 official income. Such were the individuals who are pleasantly represented 
 as nodding their approval of the judgments of Lord Manners to attract 
 his notice and conciliate his favour. 
 
 * Mr. Edward Pennefather, a Chancery lawyer of the highest reputa- 
 tion. He held the office of Solicitor-General in the short Tory Govern-? 
 racnt of 1834-5, and again in 1841, upon the return of Sir B. Peel to 
 power. In the same year he succeeded Mr. Bushe in the Chief-Justice-
 
 CALAMITIES OF THE BAR. 201 
 
 ceeded by Mr. Sergeant Lefroy, who after casting a 
 smile of pious recognition upon a brace of neophytes 
 behind, rolled out a ponderous brief, and reluctantly 
 betook himself to the occupations of this sublunary 
 world. Next came Mr. Blackburne, with his smug 
 features, but beaming and wily eye; Mr. Crampton, 
 with an air of elaborated frankness ; Mr. Warren, with 
 an expression of atrabilious honesty; Mr. Saurin, look- 
 ing as if he had never been attorney- general ; and Mr. 
 Plunket, as if he never could cease to be so.*" Lastly 
 appeared my Lord Manners, with that strong affinity to , 
 the Stuart cast of face, and that fine urbanity of man- 
 ner, which, united with a sallow face and a meagre 
 figure, makes him seem like the phantom of Charles 
 the Second. 
 
 The Court was crowded, the business of the day was 
 called on; Mr. Prendergast, with that depth of regis- 
 terial intonation which belongs to him, had called on 
 the first cause, when suddenly a cry, or rather an Irish 
 howl, of " My Lord ! my Lord !" rose from the remote 
 seats of the Court, and made the whole assembly look 
 back. A barrister in a wig and gown was seen clamber- 
 ing from bench to bench, and upsetting all opposition, 
 rolling over some and knocking down others, and utter- 
 ship of the Queen's Bench, which he held until his death in 1846. Mr. 
 Pennefather disappointed upon the bench the expectations which had 
 been founded upon his abilities and success at the bar. He would pro- 
 bably have been an eminent judge had he not been so long an advo- 
 cate. 
 
 * Of this procession of lawyers the only survivors are Mr. Lefroy, the 
 present Chief-Justice Mr. Blackbnrne, who filled successively the offices 
 of Attorney-General, Master of the Rolls, Chief Justice, and Lord Chan- 
 cellor, with consummate ability in each and Mr. Crampton, now a 
 puisne Judge of the Queen's Bench.
 
 202 SKETCHES OF THE BAR. 
 
 ing in a vehement and repeated ejaculation, " My Lord ! 
 my Lord ! " as he advanced, or rather tumbled over every 
 impediment. At length he reached the lower bench, 
 where he remained breathless for a moment, overcome 
 by the exertion which he had made to gain that promi- 
 nent station in the court. The first sensation was one 
 of astonishment ; this was succeeded by reiterated 
 laughter, which even the strictness of Chancery eti- 
 quette could not restrain. I could not for a moment 
 believe the assurance of my senses, until, looking at him 
 again and again, I became satisfied that this strange 
 barrister (for a barrister it was) was no other than the 
 miserable man whom I had observed in the Hall, and 
 of whom I have given a faint and imperfect picture. 
 After the roar of ridicule had subsided, the unfortunate 
 gentleman received an intimation from Lord Manners 
 that he should be heard, when he addressed the court 
 in a speech, of the style of delivery of which it is im- 
 possible to convey to an English reader any adequate 
 notion, but which ran to the following effect. 
 
 " It is now, may it please your honourable Lordship, 
 more than forty years since, with a mournful step and 
 a heavy heart, I followed the remains of your Lord- 
 ship' s illustrious relative, the Duke of Rutland, to the 
 grave/' The moment this sentence had been pro- 
 nounced, and it was uttered with a barbarous impres- 
 siveness, the Chancellor leaned forward, and assumed 
 an aspect of profound attention. The Bar immediately 
 composed their features into sympathy with the judi- 
 cial countenance, and a general expression of compas- 
 sion pervaded the court. 
 
 The extraordinary orator continued, " Yes, my Lord, 
 the unfortunate man who stands before you did, as a
 
 CALAMITIES OF THE BAE. 203 
 
 scholar of Trinity College, attend the funeral proces- 
 sion with which the members of the University of 
 Dublin followed the relics of your noble relative to an 
 untimely tomb. My eyes, my Lord, are now filled 
 by my own calamities, but they were then moistened 
 by that sorrow, which, in common with the whole of 
 the loyal part of the Irish nation (for, my Lord, I am 
 a Protestant), I felt for the loss of your noble and ever 
 to be lamented kinsman/' (The Bar looked up to 
 Lord Manners, and, perceiving his Lordship's atten- 
 tion still more strongly riveted, preserved their gravity.) 
 " Oh, my Lord, I feel that I am addressing myself to 
 a man who carries a true nobleness of sentiment in 
 every drop of his honourable blood. God Almighty 
 bless your Lordship ! you belong, ay, every bit of you, 
 to the noble house of Kutland; and aren't you the 
 uncle of a duke, and the brother of his Grace the 
 Archbishop of Canterbury?" 
 
 "But in what cause, Mr. Mac Mahon, are you 
 counsel?" " In [my own, my Lord. It is a saying, 
 my Lord, that he who is his own counsel, has a mad- 
 man for his client. But, my Lord, I have no money 
 to fee my brethren. I haven't the quiddam honorarium, 
 my Lord ; and if I am mad, it is poverty and persecu- 
 tion, and the Jesuits, that have made me so. Ay, my 
 Lord, the Jesuits. For who is counsel against me? I 
 don't mean that Popish demagogue Daniel O'Connell, 
 though he was brought up at St. Omer, and bad 
 enough he is too, for abusing your Lordship about 
 the appeals; but I mean that real son of Loyola, 
 
 Tom , who was once a practising parson, and is 
 
 now nothing but a Jesuit in disguise.* But let him 
 
 * Torn bad taken deacon's orders, but the church suffered 
 
 no loss when he changed the gown of a clergyman for that of a lawyer.
 
 204 SKETCHES OF THE BAR. 
 
 beware. Bagnal Harvey, who was one of my perse- 
 cutors, came to an untimely end." 
 
 Such was the exordium of Counsellor Mac Mahon,* 
 the rest of whose oration was in perfect conformity 
 with the introductory passages from which I have 
 given an extract. But, in order to form any estimate 
 of his eloquence, you should have seen the prodigy 
 itself; the vehemence of his gesture corresponded 
 with the intensity of his emotions. His hands were 
 violently clenched, and furiously dashed against his 
 forehead. His mouth was spattered with discoloured 
 foam. His wig, of unpowdered horse-hair, was flung 
 off, and in the variety of frantic attitude which he 
 assumed, his gown was thrown open, and he stood 
 with scarcely any covering but his ragged shirt, in a 
 state of frightful emaciation, before the court. 
 
 When this ridiculous but painful scene had con- 
 cluded, " So much," I whispered to myself, " for the 
 dignity of the Irish Bar ! " I confess that I divested 
 myself of my professional trappings, after having wit- 
 nessed this exhibition of degradation and of misery, 
 with very different feelings from those with which I 
 had put them on; and as I walked from the Courts 
 with the impression of mingled shame and commisera- 
 tion still fresh upon me, I ventured to inquire of my 
 own consciousness whether there was anything so caba- 
 listic in the title of Counsellor, which I shared in com- 
 mon with the wretched man, whom I afterwards found 
 
 He was an open scoffer at religion. The editor remembers to have heard 
 Mr. SI nil say of him, that he had met a good many infidels in his time, 
 
 but that Tom went beyond them all " he seemed to have a 
 
 personal animosity to the Supreme Being." 
 
 * This unfortunate man, who had distinguished himself in the Univer- 
 sity of Dublin, and in early life had married a woman of large fortune, 
 was lately found dead in Sackville -street. A.
 
 CALAMITIES OF THE BAB. 205 
 
 to be in daily attendance upon the Hall, and whether 
 I had not a little exaggerated the importance to which 
 I imagined that every barrister possessed an indispu- 
 table claim. It occurred to me, of course, that the 
 instance of calamity which I had just witnessed was a 
 peculiar one> and carried with it more of the outward 
 and visible signs of distress than are ordinarily revealed. 
 But is agony the less poignant, because its groans are 
 hushed? Is it because sorrow is silent, that it does 
 not "consume the heart?" or did the Spartan feel 
 less pain, because the fangs that tore him were hidden 
 beneath his robe ? 
 
 There is at the Irish Bar a much larger quantity of 
 affliction than is generally known. The necessity of 
 concealing calamity is in itself a great ill. The 
 struggle between poverty and gentility, which the 
 ostentatious publicity of the profession in Ireland has 
 produced, has, I believe, broken many hearts. If the 
 Hall of the Four Courts were the Palace of Truth, and 
 all its inmates carried a transparency in their bosoms, 
 we should see a swarm of corroding passions at court 
 in the breasts of many whose countenances are now 
 arrayed in an artificial hilarity of look ; and even as it 
 is, how many a glimpse of misery may be caught by 
 the scrutinizing eye that pierces through the faces into 
 the souls of men. The mask by which it is sought 
 to conceal the real features of the mind will often drop 
 off, and intimations of affliction will, upon a sudden, 
 be involuntarily given. 
 
 This is the case even with those whom the world is 
 disposed to account among the prosperous ; but there 
 is a large class, who to an attentive -and practised 
 observer, appear habitually under the influence of painful
 
 206 SKETCHES OF THE BAR. 
 
 emotion. The author of Vathek (a man conversant 
 in affliction) has represented the condemned pacing 
 through the Hall of Eblis with the same slow and 
 everlasting foot-fall; and I confess, that the blank 
 and dejected air, the forlorn and hopeless eye, the 
 measured and heart-broken pace of many a man, whom 
 I have observed in his revolution through the same 
 eternal round in the Hall of the Four Courts, have 
 sometimes recalled to me the recollection of Mr. 
 Beckford's melancholy fancies. 
 
 If I were called upon to assign the principal cause 
 of the calamities of which so many examples occur at 
 the Irish Bar, I should be disposed to say that their 
 chief source lay in the unnatural elevation to which 
 the members of that body are exalted by the provincial 
 inferiority to which Ireland is reduced. The absence 
 from the metropolis of the chief proprietors, and indeed 
 of almost all the leading gentry, has occasioned the 
 substitution of a kind of spurious aristocracy. An 
 Irish barrister is indebted for his importance to the 
 insignificance of his country; but this artificial station 
 becomes eventually a misfortune to those who arc 
 dependent upon their daily exertions for their support ; 
 and who, instead of practising those habits of provident 
 frugality, which are imposed by their comparative 
 obscurity upon the cloistered tenants of the two 
 Temples,* become slaves to their transitory conse- 
 
 * Ireland is, I believe, the only country where there exists among the 
 Bar this preposterous tendency to ostentatious expense. The French 
 Bar, for example, live in respectable privacy, and are wholly free from 
 extravagance. It is, I fancy, a mistake to suppose that the profits of the 
 more eminent among them are too inconsiderable to permit of the silliness 
 of display. The fees paid to French counsel of reputation, for their 
 opinions, are large. Those opinions indeed arc elaborate essays upon the
 
 CALAMITIES OP THE BAB. 207 
 
 quencc; and, after having wasted the hard earnings 
 of their youth and manhood in preposterous efforts of 
 display, leave their families no better inheritance than 
 the ephemeral sympathy of that public, whose worth- 
 less respect they had purchased at so large a cost. Let 
 
 law, and are called " Consultations." I had occasion, when in Paris, to 
 consult Trippier, who is accounted the hest lawyer in Paris. He lives 
 in the Rue C'roix des Petits Champs, in apartments of a small size and 
 indifferently furnished ; -and although he has amassed a large fortune, 
 and has only two daughters, lives with a prudence, which, if an Irish- 
 man were to publish a dictionary of synonymes, would be inserted as 
 another name for avarice. I was not a little anxious to see this cele- 
 brated advocate, and waited impatiently in his study for his arrival. A 
 French lawyer accompanied me, who observed that all his books related 
 exclusively to law. The speeches of Cochin and Patin seemed indeed to 
 be the only works connected with literature in his library. I was 
 informed that Trippier valued nothing but the profits of his trade, and 
 that he was wholly innocent of the sin of polite raiding. At last the 
 great legiste appeared. I was instantaneously struck with his strong 
 resemblance to Curran. He is of precisely the same dimensions, has a 
 countenance cast in the same mould, the same complexion, the same 
 irregularity of feature, and the same black and brilliant eye. It 
 also surprised me to find that there was an affinity in the sound of the 
 voice, and a similar tendency to place the hand on the chin, aud to throw 
 up the head and eye, in the act of speaking. He received us with brief 
 courtesy, and seemed very anxious that we should proceed at once to the 
 point. He placed himself in a huge chair, and assumed a most oracular 
 aspect. I was a good deal amused by the transition of his manner, in 
 which there was not a little of the conjuror. He drew one knee over the 
 other, and extended his foot, which was covered with a tight green 
 slipper. He wrapped himself up hi his black silk robe de chambre, sus- 
 tained his head with his left hand, fixed his forefinger on his brow, and 
 placing his right hand to his mouth, protruded his nether lip with an air 
 of infallibility. After hearing an oral statement, to which he gave an 
 occasional nod, he put his fee into his pocket, and saying that the facts 
 should be set forth upon paper, and that he should then write his 
 opinion, bowed us out of the room. Nota Bene. \ French lawyer 
 receives a double fee on a written statement, and fifteen Napoleons arc 
 not unusually paid to Trippier. A.
 
 208 SKETCHES OF THE BAR. 
 
 any man look back to the numerous instances in which 
 appeals have been made to the general commiseration 
 upon the decease of some eminent member of the Bar, 
 and he will not be disposed to controvert the justice of 
 this censure upon the ostentatious tendencies of the 
 profession. 
 
 The life of an eminent lawyer may be thus rapidly 
 sketched. He is called without any other property 
 than those talents which have not in general a 
 descendible quality. For some years he remains un- 
 employed : at last gets a brief, creeps into the partia- 
 lities of a solicitor, and sets up a bag and a wife 
 together. Irish morality does not permit the intro- 
 duction into the chambers of a barrister of those 
 moveable objects of unwedded endearment, which Lord 
 Thurlow used to recommend to the juvenile members 
 of the profession ; and marriage, that perpetual blister, 
 is prescribed as the only effectual sanative for the 
 turbulent passions of the Irish Bar. In the spirit of 
 imprudence, which is often mistaken for romance, our 
 young counsellor enters with some dowerless beauty 
 into an indissoluble copartnership of the heart. A 
 pretty pauper is almost sure to be a prodigal. " Live 
 like yourself, is soon my lady's word." Shall Mrs. 
 O'Brallaghan, the wife of a mere attorney, provokingly 
 display her amorphous ankle, as she ascends the crimson 
 steps of her carriage, with all the airs of fashionable 
 impertinence; and is the wife of a counsellor in full 
 practice, though she may have " ridden double " at her 
 aunt Deborah's, to be unprovided with that ordinary 
 convenience of persons of condition ? 
 
 After a faint show of resistance, the conjugal in- 
 junction is obeyed. But is it in an obscure street that
 
 CALAMITIES OF THE BAE. 209 
 
 the coachman is to bring his clattering horses to an 
 instantaneous stand? Is he to draw up in an alley, 
 and to wheel round in a cul de sac ? And then there is 
 such a bargain to be had of a house in Merrion-square. 
 A house in Merrion-square is accordingly purchased, and 
 a bond, with warrant of attorney for confessing judg- 
 ment thereon, is passed for the fine. The lady dis- 
 covers a taste in furniture, and the profits of four 
 circuits are made oblations to virtu. The counsellor is 
 raised to the dignity of king's counsel, and his lady is 
 initiated into the splendours of the Viceregal court. 
 
 She is now thrown into the eddies of fashionable 
 life ; and in order to afford evidence of her domestic 
 propensities, she issues cards to half the town, with an 
 intimation that she is " at home." She has all this 
 while been prolific to the full extent of Hibernian 
 fecundity. The counsellor's sons swagger it with the 
 choicest spirits of Kildare-street ; and the young ladies 
 are accomplished in all the multifarious departments of 
 musical and literary affectation. Quadrilles and waltzes 
 shake the illuminated chambers with a perpetual con- 
 cussion. The passenger is arrested in his nocturnal 
 progress by the crowd of brilliant vehicles before the 
 door, while the blaze of light streaming from the 
 windows, and the sound of the harp and the tabor, and 
 the din of extravagance, intimate the joyaunce that 
 is going on within. 
 
 But where is the counsellor all this while ? He sits 
 in a sequestered chamber, like a hermit in the forest of 
 Comus, and pursues his midnight labours by the light 
 of a solitary taper, scarcely hearing the din of pleasure 
 that rolls above his head. The wasteful splendour of 
 the drawing-room, and the patient drudgery of the 
 
 VOL. i. P
 
 210 SKETCHES OF THE BAB. 
 
 library, go on for years. The counsellor is at the top 
 of the forensic, and his lady stands upon the summit of 
 the fashionable, world. At length death knocks at the 
 door. He is seized by a sudden illness. The loud 
 knock of the judges peals upon his ear, but the double 
 tap of the attorney is heard no more. He makes an 
 unavailing effort to attend the Courts, but is hurried 
 back to his house, and laid in his bed. His eyes now 
 begin to open to the realities of his condition. In the 
 loneliness and silence of the sick man's chamber a train 
 of reflections presents itself to his mind, which his 
 former state of professional occupancy had tended to 
 exclude. He takes a death-bed survey of his circum- 
 stances; looks upon the future; and by the light of 
 that melancholy lamp that burns beside him, and 
 throws its shadowy gleams upon his fortunes, he sees 
 himself at the close of a most prosperous life, without a 
 groat. 
 
 The sense of his own folly and the anticipated desti- 
 tution of his family settle at his heart. He has not 
 adopted even the simple and cheap expedient of in- 
 suring his life, or by some miserable negligence has let 
 the insurance drop. What is to become of his wife 
 and his children ? From the source of his best affec- 
 tions, and of his purest pleasures, he drinks that potion 
 that aqua Tophana of the mind, which renders all 
 the expedients of art without avail. Despair sits minis- 
 tering beside him with her poisoned chalice, and bids 
 defiance to Colles and to Cheyne.* His family gather 
 about him. The last consolations of religion are given 
 
 * The former the most eminent surgeon, the latter the first physician 
 in Dublin at the period when this sketch was written. Neither of them 
 is now living.
 
 CALAMITIES OF THE BAB. 211 
 
 amidst heart-broken sobs ; and as he raises himself, and 
 stretches forth his head to receive the final rite, he 
 casts his eyes upon the wretches who surround him, 
 and shrinks b.ick at the sight. 
 
 It is in the midst of a scene like this, and when the 
 hour of agony is at hand, that the loud and heartless 
 voice of official insolence echoes from chamber to 
 chamber; and, after a brief interval, the dreadful cer- 
 tainty, of which the unhappy man had but too prescient 
 a surmise, is announced. The sheriff's officers have got 
 in ; his majesty's writ of fieri facias is in the progress 
 of execution ; the sanctuaries of death are violated by 
 the peremptory ministers of the law, the blanket and 
 the silk gown are seized together ; and this is the con- 
 clusion of a life of opulence and of distinction, and, 
 let me add, of folly as well as fame. After having 
 charmed his country by his eloquence, and enlightened 
 it by his erudition, he breathes his last sigh amidst the 
 tears of his children, the reproaches of his creditors, 
 and a bailiff's jest. 
 
 The calamities of which I have drawn this sombre 
 picture, are the result of weakness and ostentation. 
 Their victims are, upon that account, less deserving of 
 commiseration than the unhappy persons whose misfor- 
 tunes have not been their fault. This obvious reflection 
 recalls the image of Henry MacDougall. I hear his 
 honest laugh, which it was good for a splenetic heart to 
 hear; I see the triumph of sagacious humour in his 
 eye ; those feats of fine drollery, in which pleasantry 
 and usefulness were so felicitously combined, rise again 
 to my recollection ; the roar of merriment into which 
 the bar, the jury, and the bench used to be thrown by 
 this master of forensic mirth, returns upon my ear; 
 
 p 2
 
 212 SKETCHES OF THE BAR. 
 
 but, alas ! a disastrous token, with the types of death 
 upon it, mingles itself with these associations. Poor 
 MacDougall ! he was prized by the wise and beloved by 
 the good ; and, with a ready wit and a cheerful and 
 sonorous laugh, he had a manly and independent spirit 
 and a generous and feeling heart. 
 
 Mr. MacDougall was at the head of the Leinster 
 circuit, and was, if not the best, among the very first 
 class of cross-examiners at the Bar. No man better 
 knew how to assail an Irish witness. There was, at first, 
 nothing of the brow-beating or dictatorial tone about 
 this good-humoured inquisitor, who entered into an 
 easy familiarity with his victim, and addressed him in 
 that spirit of fantastic gibe, which is among the charac- 
 teristics of the country. The witness thought himself 
 on a level with the counsellor who invited him to a 
 wrestling-match in wit, and, holding it a great victory 
 to trip a lawyer up, promptly accepted the challenge. 
 A hard struggle used often to ensue, and many a time 
 I have seen the counsellor get a severe fall. However, 
 he contrived to be always uppermost at last. The whole 
 of " the fancy," who are very numerous in Dublin, used 
 to assemble to witness these intellectual gymnastics. A 
 kind of ring was formed round the combatants, and my 
 Lord Norbury sat as arbiter of the contest, and in- 
 sisted upon fair play. The peals of laughter which were 
 produced by his achievements in pleasantry procured for 
 MacDougall the title of " MacDougall of the Roar." 
 
 I shall not readily forget his last display. An action 
 for slander was brought by an apothecary against a rival 
 pharmacopolist. One of the apprentices of the plaintiff 
 was his leading witness, and it fell to Mr. MacDougall 
 to cross-examine him. The wily lawyer induced the
 
 CALAMITIES OF THE BAB. 213 
 
 youthful Podalirius to make a display of his acquire- 
 ments in detailing the whole process of his art. The 
 farce of " the Mock Doctor" has never produced more 
 mirth. All the faculty attended, and the crowd of 
 doctors, surgeons, and man-midwives reached the roof. 
 They were, however, reluctantly compelled to join in the 
 tumult of laughter created by this formidable jester at 
 their expense. The chorus of apothecaries in Moliere's 
 " Malade Imaginaire," in which the various mysteries 
 of the profession are detailed, does not disclose more 
 matter for merriment than was revealed in the course 
 of this ludicrous investigation. It is recorded of the 
 " satirical knave," that he was assailed by the illness of 
 which he died during the personation of a character 
 intended as a ridicule upon the faculty. I sat close to 
 Mr. MacDougall, and, while I participated in all its' 
 mirth, my attention was attracted by a handkerchief, 
 which the author of all this merriment was frequently 
 applying to his mouth, and which was clotted with 
 blood. I thought at first that it proceeded from some 
 ordinary effusion, and turned again towards the wit- 
 ness, when a loud laugh from the counsel at the 
 success of a question which he had administered to the 
 young apothecary, touching his performance of Romeo 
 in the private theatre in Fishamble-street, directed my 
 notice a second time to Mr. MacDougall, and I perceived 
 that, while the whole auditory was shaken with mirth, 
 he was taking a favourable opportunity of thrusting 
 the bloody handkerchief into his bag, without attracting 
 the general attention, and immediately after applied 
 another to his lips. 
 
 Again he set upon the Romeo of Fishamble-street, 
 and produced new bursts of ridicule, of which he took
 
 214 SKETCHES OF THE BAR. 
 
 advantage to steal his bloody napkins away, and to 
 supply himself, without notice, with the means of con- 
 cealing the malady which was hurrying him to the 
 grave. A day or two after this trial his illness and his 
 ruin were announced. His high reputation in his pro- 
 fession, his private worth, his large family, and the 
 opinion which had been entertained of his great profes- 
 sional prosperity, fixed the public attention upon him. 
 It was at last discovered that all the earnings of a labo- 
 rious life had been laid out in speculations upon lands 
 belonging to the corporation of Watcrford, to the repre- 
 rentation of which, it is supposed, he aspired. He had 
 borrowed large sums of money, and had subjected him- 
 self to enormous rents. He was induced, in the hope 
 of ultimately retrieving his circumstancess, to involve 
 himself more deeply in debt ; and the rank of King's 
 Counsel, to which he was raised by Mr. Plunket, in a 
 manner equally honourable to both, offered a new 
 career to his talents, and led him to expect that all his 
 difficulties might be at last surmounted. 
 
 But the hope was a vain one. The pressure was too 
 great for him to bear, and he sank at last beneath it. 
 For a long time he struggled hard to conceal the state 
 of his circumstances and of his mind, and assumed a 
 forced hilarity of manners. He was conspicuous for an 
 obstreperous gaiety at the bar-mess on his circuit, and 
 no man laughed so loudly or so long as he did ; but 
 when his apparently exuberant spirits were spoken of, 
 those who knew him well shook their heads, and hinted 
 that all was not right within. And so it proved to be. 
 His mind had for years been corroded with anxieties. 
 His constitution, although naturally vigorous, was slowly 
 shaken by the sapping of continual care. A mortal
 
 CALAMITIES OF THE BAK. 215 
 
 disease at length declared itself, in the increasing gush 
 of blood from the gums, which he had employed the 
 expedients thatl have mentioned to conceal. Yet even 
 in the hours of advancing dissolution, he could not be 
 induced to absent himself from court; and the scene 
 which I have been describing was one of those in which, 
 if I may so say, Momus and Death were brought into 
 fellowship. 
 
 He died a short time after the trial in which I had 
 noted this painful' incident. To the last, his love of 
 ludicrous association did not desert him. A little while 
 before his departure, one of his oldest friends was stand- 
 ing at his bed-side and bidding him farewell. During 
 this melancholy parting, a collapse of the jaws took 
 place, which rendered it necessary to tie a bandage 
 under the chin ; and in the performance of the opera- 
 tion, with the blood still oozing from his mouth, and 
 trickling down the sheets, he turned his eyes languidly 
 to his friend, and muttered, with a faint smile, " I never 
 thought to have died chapfallen." This observation 
 was not the result of insensibility ; quite the reverse. 
 " You should have seen him when he spoke it," said 
 the person who mentioned the circumstance ; " I 
 felt like the companion of Yorick's death-bed, who 
 perceived, by a jest, that the heart of his friend was 
 broken." It is consolatory to know, that since his 
 death his property has been turned to good account, 
 and that his family are placed in independence. 
 
 Never to attain to station at the Bar; to carry the 
 consciousness of high talent; to think that there is a 
 portable treasure in one's mind, which the attorneys do 
 not condescend to explore; to live for years in hope, 
 and to feel the proverbial sickness of the heart arising
 
 216 SKETCHES OF THE BAR. 
 
 from its procrastination these are serious ills. But 
 the loss of business, at an advanced period of life, is a 
 far greater calamity than never to have attained its 
 possession. Yet a distinction is to be taken. Those 
 who have been deserted by their business are divisible 
 into two classes, who are essentially different : the pru- 
 dent, who, with the forecast which is so rare a virtue in 
 Ireland, have taken advantage of the shining of their 
 fortunes, and, by a sagacious accumulation, are enabled 
 to encounter the caprices of public favour ; and they 
 who, after a life of profuseness, find themselves at last 
 abandoned by their clients, without having preserved 
 the means of respectable support. The former class 
 suggest a ludicrous, rather than a melancholy train of 
 images. The contemplation of a rich man out of em- 
 ployment affords more matter for merriment than for 
 condolence. 
 
 To this body of opulent veterans my friend Pomposo 
 belongs. His success at the Bar was eminent. He 
 possessed, in a high degree, a facility of fluent and 
 sonorous speech, and had an imposing and well-rounded 
 elocution, a deep and musical voice, a fine and com- 
 manding figure, and a solemn and didactic countenance. 
 He flourished at a period when a knowledge of the 
 minute technicalities of the law was not essential at the 
 Irish Bar. There was a time when an Irish counsellor 
 was winged to heaven by a bill of exchange, and drew 
 tears from the jury in an ejectment for non-payment of 
 rent. In those days Pomposo was in the highest re- 
 repute; and such was the demand for him, that the 
 attorneys up5R opposite sides galloped from the assize 
 towns to meet him, and sometimes arriving at the same 
 moment at the open windows of his carriage, thrust in
 
 CALAMITIES OF THE BAR. 217 
 
 their briefs, "with a shower of bank-notes, and simul- 
 taneously exclaimed that the counsellor belonged to 
 them. Upon these occasions Pomposo used to throw 
 himself back in his post-chaise with an air of imperious 
 nonchalance, and, pocketing the money of both parties, 
 protest that it was among the calamities of genius to be 
 stopped in the king's highway, and, drawing up the 
 windows of his carriage, commanded the postilion to 
 drive on. 
 
 This half-yearly "triumph of eloquence through the 
 Munster circuit lasted for a considerable time, and Pom- 
 poso found himself a rich man. When after the enact- 
 ment of the Union, English habits began to appear, and 
 the iron age of demurrers and of nonsuits succeeded to 
 the glorious days of apostrophes and harangues, it was 
 all over with Pomposo. Still he loved the Four Courts, 
 and haunted them. Becoming at last weary of walking 
 the Hall, he took refuge in the Library attached to the 
 Courts. It was pleasant to hear him ask, with an air of 
 earnestness, for the oldest and most unintelligible reper- 
 tories of black letter, in which he affected to seek a 
 pastime. Bracton seemed to be his manual, and Fleta 
 his vade-mecum. I have heard his deep and solemn 
 voice, which still retained its old rhetorical tones, break- 
 ing in upon the laborious meditations of the young 
 gentlemen who had recently returned from Butler's or 
 Sugden's offices, bristling with cases and with points, 
 and who just raised up their heads and invested their 
 features with aLincolnVinn expression at any intrusion 
 of a lawyer of the old school into this repository of 
 erudition. Pomposo, having armed himself with one of 
 the year-books, took his station tranquilly by the fire, 
 and after stirring it, and commenting with his habitual
 
 218 SKETCHES OP THE BAB. 
 
 magniloquence upon the weather, threw open the annals 
 of justice in the reign of the Edwards, and fell fast 
 asleep. It has been recorded of him that he has been 
 heard, upon these occasions, to speak in his slumbers ; 
 and while Queen Mab was galloping on his fingers, he 
 has alternately intermingled the prices of stocks with 
 adjurations to a Munster jury. 
 
 Pomposo still goes the circuit. No man is more punc- 
 tual in his attendance at the exact hour of dinner at the 
 Bar-room. The junior, who is generally fresh from a 
 pleader's office, and enamoured of Nisi Prius upon his 
 first tour, remains in court until the business is con- 
 cluded, and thus neglects the official duty which requires 
 his presence at the Bar-room at five o'clock. Pomposo 
 and an old friend or two enter together. Pomposo 
 draws forth his watch, and exclaims, "Ten minutes past 
 five o'clock, and the junior not yet come ! " Having a 
 taste for music, he beguiles the time with humming 
 some of those airs for which he was famous in his youth, 
 and goes through the best portion of the "Beggar's 
 Opera," when six o'clock strikes. "I protest it is six 
 o'clock, and the junior is not yet come 'When the 
 heart of a man,' &c.;" and so Pomposo continues until 
 seven o'clock, alternately inveighing against the remiss- 
 ness of modern juniors, and, as Wordsworth has ex- 
 pressed it, 
 
 " whistling many a snatch of merry tunes 
 
 That have no mirth in them." 
 
 The wealth which this very respectable gentleman 
 has accumulated raises him above the sympathy of the 
 Bar. The other class of barristers without employment 
 falls more immediately under the title with which I 
 have headed this article. There was a set of men at
 
 CALAMITIES OP THE BAB. 219 
 
 the Irish bar who, I think, may be designated as " the 
 Yelverton school of lawyers." Lord A.vonmore, the 
 Chief Baron of the Exchequer, whose name was Barry 
 Yelverton, originally belonged to that grade in society 
 which is within the reach of education, but below that 
 of refinement. He never lost the indigenous roughness 
 and asperity of character, which it has been said to be 
 the office of literature to soften and subdue; but he 
 had a noble intellect, and in the deep rush of his elo- 
 quence the imperfections of his manner were forgotten. 
 His familiarity with the models of antiquity was great, 
 and his mind had imbibed much of the spirit of the 
 orators of Greece and Rome, which he infused into his 
 own powerful discourses. So great was his solicitude 
 to imbue himself with the style of the eminent writers 
 whom he admired, that he translated several of their 
 works, without a view to publication. 
 
 His talents raised him to the highest place at the 
 Bar, and his political complaisance lifted him to the 
 Bench. In private life he possessed many excellent 
 qualities, of which the most conspicuous was his fidelity 
 in friendship. In his ascent, he raised up the com- 
 panions of his youth along with liim. The business of 
 the Court of Exchequer was, under his auspices, divided 
 among a set of choice spirits who had been the boon 
 companions of his youth, and belonged, as well as 
 himself, to a jovial fraternity, who designated themselves 
 by the very characteristic title of " Monks of the 
 Screw."* These merry gentlemen encountered a non- 
 
 * " A patriotic and convivial society," says Mr. William Henry Curran, 
 in his life of his father, who was one of the original members, " com- 
 posed of men such as Ireland could not easily assemble now. It was 
 a collection of the wit, the genius, and public virtue of the country ;
 
 220 SKETCHES OF THE BAR. 
 
 suit with a joke, and baffled authority with a repartee. 
 A system of avowed and convivial favouritism prevailed 
 in the court ; and the " fecundi calices" which had been 
 quaffed with his Lordship, were not unnaturally pre- 
 sumed to administer to the inspiration of counsel on 
 the succeeding day. The matins performed in court 
 were but a prolongation of the vespers which had been 
 celebrated at the abbot's house ; and as long as the 
 head of the order continued on the bench, the " Monks 
 of the Screw" were in vogue; but when the Chief 
 Baron died, their bags were immediately assailed with 
 atrophy. They lost their business, and many of them 
 died in extreme indigence. It may be readily imagined 
 that their habits were inconsistent with the spirit of 
 
 and though the name of the society itself is not embodied in any of the 
 national records, the names of many of its members are to be found in 
 every page, and will be remembered, while Ireland has a memory, with 
 gratitude and pride." 
 
 The club had a chartered song, which was written by Curran. The 
 following are two of the stanzas : 
 
 " When St. Patrick this order established, 
 
 He called us the Monks of the Screw ; 
 Good rules he revealed to our Abbot, 
 
 To guide us in what we should do. 
 But first he replenished our fountain 
 
 With liquor the best in the sky, 
 And he swore on the word of a saint 
 
 That the fountain should never run dry. 
 
 " Come each take his chalice, my brethren, 
 
 And with due devotion prepare, 
 With hands and with voices uplifted, 
 
 Our hymn to conclude with a prayer. 
 May this chapter oft joyously meet, 
 
 And this gladsome libation renew, 
 To the Saint, and the Founder, and Abbot, 
 
 And Prior and Monks of the Screw."
 
 CALAMITIES OF THE BAK. 221 
 
 saving. They were first pitied, then forgotten, and 
 soou after buried. 
 
 Most of these gentlemen flourished and withered 
 before my time. One of them, however, I do remem- 
 ber, who survived his companions, and whose natural 
 vitality of spirit, and Diogenes turn of philosophy, sus- 
 tained his energy to the last. This was Mr. Jeremiah 
 Keller, who was universally known by the more familiar 
 appellation of Jerry Keller in the Courts. The at- 
 torneys could deprive him of his briefs, but could not 
 rob him of his wit. He was a man 
 
 " replete with mocks, 
 
 Full of comparisons and wounding flouts." 
 
 The loss of business served to whet his satire and give 
 more poignancy to his biting mirth. He used to attend 
 the hall of the Courts with punctuality, and was gene- 
 rally surrounded by a circle of laughers, whom the 
 love of malicious pleasantry attracted about him. His 
 figure and demeanour were remarkable. He never put 
 on his wig and gown, as he scorned the affectation of 
 employment, but appeared in an old frieze great-coat of 
 rusty red, which reached to his heels, and enveloped 
 the whole of his gaunt and meagre person. A small 
 and pointed hat stood upon his head, with a narrow and 
 short curled brim. His arms were generally thrust into 
 the sleeves of his coat, which gave him a peculiarity of 
 attitude. Looking at him from a distance, you would 
 have taken him for some malevolent litigant from the 
 country, upon whose passions a group of mockers were 
 endeavouring to play; but, upon a more attentive 
 perusal of his countenance, you perceived a habit of 
 thought of a superior order, and the expression of no 
 ordinary mind.
 
 222 SKETCHES OF THE BAR. 
 
 His features were sharp, and pointed to the finest 
 edge. There was that acuteness of the nose which 
 denotes the lover of a gibe. His eyes were piercing, 
 clear, and brassy ; they were filled with a deadly irony, 
 which never left them. A flash of malignant exultation 
 played over his features when he saw how deeply the 
 shaft had struck, and with what a tenacity it stuck to 
 his victim. The quiver of his lip, in giving utterance 
 to some mortal sneer, was peculiarly comical : he seemed 
 as if he were chewing the poison before he spat it forth. 
 His teeth gave a short chatter of ridicule ; you heard a 
 dry laugh, a cachinnus which wrinkled all his features, 
 and, after a sardonic chuckle, he darted forth the fatal 
 jest, amidst those plaudits for its bitterness which had 
 become his only consolation. 
 
 Jerry Keller, as the senior, presided at the mess of 
 the Munster bar, and ruled in all the autocracy of 
 unrivalled wit. It was agreed upon all hands that 
 Jerry should have carte-blanche with every man's cha- 
 racter, and that none of his sarcasms, however formi- 
 dable, should provoke resentment. This was a necessary 
 stipulation; for when he had been roused by those 
 potations in which, according to a custom which he did 
 not consider as " honoured by the breach," he liberally 
 indulged, there was a Malagrowther savagcness in his 
 sarcasm which made even the most callous shrink. He 
 who laughed loudest at the thrust which his neighbour 
 had received, was the next to feel the weapons of this 
 immitigable satirist. To enter into a struggle with 
 him, was a tempting of God's providence. You were 
 sure to be pierced in an instant by this accomplished 
 gladiator, who could never be taken off his guard. 
 Jerry had been a Catholic, and still retained a lurking
 
 CALAMITIES OF THE BAB. 223 
 
 reverence for a herring upon Good Friday. A gentle- 
 man of no ordinary pretension, observing that Jem- 
 abstained from meat upon that sacred day, ventured to 
 observe, " I think, Jerry, you have still a damned deal 
 of the Pope in your belly." " If I have," said Jerry, 
 "you have a damned deal of the Pretender in your 
 head."* 
 
 I was one day (let not my reader allow himself to 
 be startled by too sudden a transition from Dublin to 
 Constantinople) I was, I recollect, one day repeating 
 this sarcasm to a gentleman who had recently returned 
 from the East, and mentioned the name of the barrister, 
 
 Mr. N , to whom it had been applied ; and I was 
 
 a good deal surprised, that, instead of joining in a laugh 
 at the bitterness of the retort, his face assumed a 
 melancholy expression. I asked him the cause of it, 
 when he told me, that the name which I had just 
 uttered, had recalled to him a very remarkable and very 
 painful incident which had happened to him at Con- 
 stantinople. I begged him to relate it. "I was one 
 evening," he said, " walking in the cemeteries of Con- 
 stantinople. But I have, I believe, written an account 
 of this adventure in my journal, and had better read it 
 to you." He accordingly took a huge book from a 
 drawer, and read as follows : 
 
 " It is not unusual for the inhabitants of the Asiatic 
 portion of the great capital of Islamism, to walk in the 
 evening amidst the vast repositories of the dead, which 
 are adjacent to Scutari. Death is little dreaded in the 
 East, while the remains of the deceased are objects of 
 tenderness and respect among their surviving kindred. 
 This pious sentiment being unaccompanied by that 
 
 * Mr. Keller is also mentioned in the sketch of Lord Norlmry, \vhere 
 his remark on the elevation of Judge Mayne is related.
 
 224 SKETCHES OF THE BAR. 
 
 dismay with which we are apt to look upon the grave, 
 attracts the Turks to the vast fields where their friends 
 and kindred are deposited. I proceeded upon a summer 
 evening, from Constantinople properly so called, to the 
 Asiatic side, and entered the vast groves of cypresses 
 which mark the residence of the dead. The evening 
 was brilliant. There was not a breath of wind to stir 
 the leaves of those dismal trees, which spread on every 
 side as far as the sight can reach, and being planted in 
 long and uniform lines, open vistas of death, and con- 
 duct the eye through long sweeps of sepulchres to the 
 horizon. The dwellings of the dead were filled with 
 the living. The ranges of cypresses were crowded with 
 Turks, who moved with that slow and solemn gait 
 which is peculiar to the country. The flowing and 
 splendid dresses of those majestic infidels, their lofty 
 turbans, of which the image is sculptured upon every 
 monument, their noble demeanour, and their silence 
 and collectedness, by the union of life and death to- 
 gether, gave an additional solemnity to this imposing 
 spectacle. 
 
 " The setting of the sun threw a mournful splendour 
 upon the foliage of the trees, and lighted up this forest 
 of death with a funereal glory. I leaned against a 
 cypress which grew over a grave on which roses had 
 been planted. From this spot, full of those " flower- 
 beds of graves/' as Mr. Hope has called them, and 
 which mothers or sisters had in all likelihood so 
 adorned (it is the usage in the East to apparel a tomb 
 with these domestic tokens of endearment), I looked 
 around me. While I was contemplating this " patri- 
 mony of the heirs to decay," my attention was attracted 
 by a man dressed in tattered white, and with a ragged 
 turban on his head, who stood at a small distance from
 
 CALAMITIES OF THE BAE. 225 
 
 me, and, although attired in the dress of the country, 
 had something of the Frank in his aspect. There was 
 an air of extreme loneliness and desolation about him. 
 He leaned with his back to a marble sepulchre, which 
 was raised by the side of the public road that for miles 
 traverses the cemeteries. His arms were folded, his 
 head was sunk on his chest, and his eyes fixed upon the 
 earth. The evening was far advanced, and, as it grew 
 dark, the crowds who had previously filled the cemete- 
 ries began to disperse. As the brightness of the 
 evening passed away, I perceived that dense and 
 motionless cloud of stagnant vapours which had dis- 
 appeared in the setting sun, but which, Mr. Hope tells 
 us, for ever hangs over these dreary realms, and is ex- 
 haled from the swelling soil ready to burst with its 
 festering contents. A chilly sensation stole upon me, 
 and I felt that I was ' set down in the midst of the 
 valley which was full of bones/ I was about to depart 
 from this dismal spot, when, looking towards the 
 sepulchre where I had observed the solitary figure I 
 have been describing, I perceived that he was approach- 
 ing. I was at first a little startled, and, although my 
 apprehensions passed away when he addressed me in 
 the English language, my surprise, when I looked at 
 him, was not a little increased. He said, that he con- 
 jectured from my appearance that I was an English- 
 man ; and was proceeding to implore, with the faltering 
 of shame, for the means of sustenance, when I could 
 not avoid exclaiming, ' Gracious God! can it be?' 
 'Alas!' said the unfortunate man, covering his face 
 
 with his hands, ' it is too true, I am Mr. N of the 
 
 Irish bar/ 
 
 The gentleman who read this singular incident from 
 
 VOL. i. Q
 
 226 SKETCHES OF THE BAR. 
 
 his journal, was at the time employed in writing a Tour 
 in the East, and may have tinged his description of the 
 cemeteries of Stamboul with some mental colours. But, 
 of the fact of this interview having taken place in the 
 burial-ground of Constantinople, I have no doubt. It 
 would not be easy to imagine adventures more disas- 
 trous than those of the unhappy Mr. N . He 
 
 moved in Dublin in the highest circles, and was prized 
 for the gracefulness of his manners and the gaiety of 
 his conversation. He became a favourite at the Castle, 
 and was admitted to the private parties at the Viceregal 
 palace. The late Duchess of Gordon visited Ireland, 
 and was greatly pleased with his genius for losing at 
 piquet. No person was preferred by that ingenious 
 dowager to a votary of fortune who still continued to 
 worship at a shrine where his prayers had never been 
 heard. It was rumoured that he was every day 
 plunging himself more deeply into ruin ; still he pre- 
 served his full and ruddy cheek, and his glittering and 
 cheerful eye. Upon a sudden, however, the crash came, 
 and his embarrassments compelled him to leave the 
 country. 
 
 He had one friend. Mr. Croker, of the Admiralty, 
 had known him when he was himself at the Irish Bar, 
 and was diligently employed in writing those admirable 
 satires, with which I shall endeavour, upon some future 
 occasion, to make the English public better acquainted; 
 for Mr. Croker is not only the author of " The Battle 
 of Talavera," but likewise of the " Familiar Epistles," 
 and is thought to have assisted Mr. N in the com- 
 position of "The Metropolis/' These very able pasqui- 
 nades were but the preludes to high undertakings. It 
 does Mr. Croker great honour, that, in his emergencies,
 
 CALAMITIES OF THE BAB. 227 
 
 his brother barrister and satirist was not forgotten. The 
 honourable secretary procured a lucrative situation for 
 
 Mr. N in the island of Malta. His Irish friends 
 
 looked forward to the period when he should be 
 enabled, after recruiting his circumstances, to return to 
 Ireland, and to reanimate Kildare-street Club-house 
 with that vivacious pleasantry, of which he was a feli- 
 citous master ; when, to every body's astonishment, it 
 
 was announced that Mr. N had left the island, had 
 
 taken up his residence at Constantinople, and renounced 
 his religion with "his hat. 
 
 He became a renegade, and invested his brows with a 
 turban. The motives assigned for this proceeding it is 
 not necessary io mention. It is probable, that he 
 involved himself a second time by play, and that he 
 had no other resource than the expedient of a con- 
 version, through the painful process of which he 
 heroically went. Having carried some money with him 
 to Constantinople, he at first made a considerable figure. 
 He was dressed in the extreme of Turkish fashion, and 
 was considered to have ingratiated himself by his talents 
 into the favour of some leading members of the Divan. 
 
 His prosperity at Constantinople, however, was 
 evanescent. His money was soon spent, and he fell 
 into distress. Letters of the most heart-rending kind 
 were written to his friends in Dublin, in which he re- 
 presented himself as in want of the common means of 
 subsistence. 
 
 It was in this direful state of destitution, that he 
 addressed himself, in the cemeteries of Constantinople, 
 to a person whom he guessed to be a native of these 
 countries, and whom he discovered to be his fellow- 
 citizen. His condition was lamentable beyond the
 
 228 SKETCHES OF THE BAR. 
 
 power of description. His dress was at once the 
 emblem of apostacy and of want. It hung in rags 
 about a person which, from a robust magnitude of 
 frame, had shrunk into miserable diminution. He 
 carried starvation in his cheeks ; ghastliness and misery 
 overspread his features, and despair stared in his glazed 
 and sunken eye. He did not long survive his calamities. 
 The conclusion of his story may be briefly told. For a 
 little while he continued to walk through the streets of 
 Constantinople, in search of nourishment, and haunted 
 its cemeteries like the dogs to which Christians are 
 compared. He had neither food, roof, or raiment. 
 At length he took the desperate resolution of re- 
 lapsing into Christianity ; for he indulged in the hope, 
 that, if he could return to his former faith, and effect 
 his escape from Constantinople, although he could not 
 appear in these countries again, yet, on the Continent, 
 he might obtain at least the means of life from 
 the friends who, although they could not forgive his 
 errors, might take compassion upon his distress. He 
 accordingly endeavoured to fly from Constantinople, 
 and induced some Englishmen who happened to be 
 there, to furnish money enough to effect his escape. 
 But the plot was discovered. He was pursued and 
 taken at a small distance from Constantinople ; his 
 head was struck off upon the beach of the Bosphorus, 
 and his body thrown into the sea.* 
 
 * The name of this unfortunate person was Xortlicotc.
 
 229 
 
 DIARY OF A BARRISTER. 
 
 , 1826.] 
 
 I AM an Irish Barrister, and go the Leinster Circuit. 
 I keep a diary of extra-professional occurrences, in this 
 half-yearly round, a sort of sentimental note-book, 
 which I preserve apart from the nisi prius adjudications 
 of the going judges of assize. In reading over my jour- 
 nal of the last Circuit, I find much matter which with 
 more leisure I could reduce into better shape. I shall 
 content myself for the present with an account of the 
 last assizes, or rather of myself during the last assizes 
 of Wexford, premising that I do little more than trans- 
 cribe the record of my own feelings and observations 
 from a diary, to which, as I have intimated, they were 
 committed without any intention that they should be 
 submitted to the public eye. This will account for the 
 character of the incidents, and the want of classification 
 in their detail. 
 
 I set off" from Dublin on the 17th of July, and on 
 Sunday morning passed in the mail-coach through 
 Ferns. In England, a barrister is not permitted to
 
 230 SKETCHES OF THE BAR. 
 
 travel in a public vehicle, lest he should be placed in 
 too endearing a juxta-position to an attorney. But in 
 Ireland no such prohibition exists ; and so little aris- 
 tocracy prevails in our migrations from town to town, 
 that a sort of connivance has been extended to the 
 cheap and rapid jaunting-cars by which Signer Bianconi 
 (an ingenious Italian) has opened a communication 
 between almost all the towns in the south of Ireland. 
 
 "Wexford is a very ancient town. It was formerly 
 surrounded by walls, a part of which continue standing. 
 They are mantled with ivy, and are rapidly mouldering 
 away ; but must once have been of considerable strength. 
 The remains of an old. monastery are situate at the 
 western gate. By a recent order of vestry, (at which 
 Catholics are not permitted to vote,) a tax was laid on 
 the inhabitants for the erection of a new church upon 
 the site of the monastic ruin. Upon entering Wexford 
 I missed a portion of the old building. I walked into 
 its precincts, and found that some of the venerable 
 archea of the ancient edifice had been thrown down, to 
 make way for the modern structure. The work of 
 devastation had been going on among the residences of 
 the dead. A churchyard encompasses these remains of 
 Christian antiquity ; and I observed that many a grave 
 had been torn up, in order to make a foundation for the 
 new Protestant church. The masons who had been at 
 work the preceding day, had left some of their imple- 
 ments behind them. To behold the line and the trowel 
 in the grave, would be at any time a painful spectacle ; 
 but this violation of the departed becomes exasperating 
 to our passions, aa well as offensive to our religious sen- 
 timents, when it is occasioned by an invasion of the 
 ancient and proper demesne of the almost universal faith
 
 DIARY OF A BABRISTEK. 231 
 
 of the people. Fragments of white bones had been 
 thrown up, and lay mingled with black mould upon the 
 green hillocks of the adjoining dead. " Why should 
 not that be the skull of an Abbot?" I exclaimed, as I 
 observed the fragments of a huge head which had been 
 recently cast up : " little did he think, that, in the very 
 sanctuary of his monastic splendour, he should ever be 
 ' twitched about the sconce' by a rude heretical knave, 
 and that a Protestant shovel should deal such profana- 
 tion upon a head so" deeply stored with the subtleties of 
 Scotus and the mysteries of Aquinas ! " 
 
 After passing some minutes in chewing the cud of 
 these bitter fancies, I became weary of my meditations 
 among the dead, and strolled towards the quay of Wex- 
 ford, upon which both church and chapel had poured 
 out all their promiscuous contents. Here was a large 
 gathering of young damsels, who after having gone 
 through their spiritual duties, came to perform the tem- 
 poral exercise of an Irish Sabbath. There was a great 
 display of Wexfordian finery. The women of Wexford 
 of the better class have, in general, a passion for dress, 
 to which I have heard that they sacrifice many of their 
 domestic comforts. This little town is remarkable for 
 a strange effort at saving and display. It is not uncom- 
 mon to see ladies, who reside in small and indifferently 
 furnished lodgings, issuing from dark and contracted 
 lanes in all the splendour which millinery can supply. 
 This tendency to extravagance in dress is the less 
 excusable, because Nature has done so much for their 
 faces and persons, as to render superfluous the efforts 
 of Art. The lower, as well as higher classes, are con- 
 spicuous for beauty. There are two baronies in this 
 county, in one of which the town is situate, the inhabi-
 
 232 SKETCHES OF THE BAR. 
 
 tants of which are descended from a colony planted by 
 the first English settlers, who never having intermingled 
 their blood with the coarser material of the country, 
 have retained a perfectly characteristic physiognomy, 
 and may be distinguished at a glance from the popula- 
 tion of the adjoining districts. The Irish face, although 
 full of shrewdness and vivacity, is deficient in propor- 
 tion and grace. Before you arrive in Wexford, in tra- 
 versing the craggy hills which overhang it, you meet 
 with countenances at every step, which are marked by 
 a rude energy and a barbarous strength. Through the 
 cloud of smoke that rolls from the doors of a hovel of 
 mud, you may observe the face of many an Hibernian 
 damsel, glowing with a ruddy and almost too-vigorous 
 health, made up of features whose rudeness is redeemed 
 by their flexibility and animation, with eyes full of 
 mockery and of will, and lips that seem to provoke 
 to an encounter in pleasantry, for which they are 
 always prepared. The dress of the genuine Irish fair 
 is just sufficient to conceal the more sacred of their 
 symmetries, but leaves the greater portion of their 
 persons in a state of brawny and formidable nudity. 
 
 But when you descend from the hills to the eastern 
 coast, you are immediately struck with a total dissimi- 
 larity of look, and cannot fail to notice a peculiarly 
 English aspect. I am disposed to think the young 
 women of the lower class in the baronies of Forth and 
 Bargy, even more graceful and feminine than the most 
 lovely of the English peasantry, whom I have ever had 
 occasion to notice. Their eyes arc of deep and tender 
 blue, their foreheads are high and smooth, their cheeks 
 have a clear transparent colour, and a sweetness of 
 expression sits on their full fresh lips, which is united
 
 DIARY OF A BARRISTER. 233 
 
 with perfect modesty, and renders them objects of pure 
 and respectful interest. They take a special care of 
 their persons, and exhibit that tidiness and neatness in 
 attire, for which their English kindred are remarkable. 
 I have often stopped to observe a girl from the barony 
 of Forth, in the market of Wexford, with her basket of 
 eggs or of chickens for sale, and wished that I were an 
 artist, in order that I might preserve her face and figure. 
 Her bonnet of bright and well-plaited straw just per- 
 mitted a few bright ringlets to escape upon her oval 
 cheek : over her head was thrown a kerchief of muslin 
 to protect her complexion from the sun. Her cloak of 
 blue cloth, trimmed with grey silk, hung gracefully from 
 her shoulders. Her boddice was tightly laced round a 
 graceful and symmetrical person. Her feet were com- 
 pressed in smart and well-polished shoes ; and as she 
 held out her basket to allure you into a purchase of her 
 commodities, her smile, with all its winningness, was 
 still so pure, that you did not dare to wish that she 
 should herself be thrown into the bargain. 
 
 It is clear that the peasantry of these districts are 
 a superior and better-ordered tribe. Industry and 
 morality prevail amongst them. Crime is almost un- 
 known in the baronies of Forth and Bargy. The 
 English reader will probably imagine that they must 
 be Protestants. On the contrary, the Roman Catholic 
 religion is their only creed, and all efforts at proselytism 
 have wholly failed. It has often been considered as 
 singular, that the Irish rebellion should have raged with 
 such fierceness among this moral and pacific peasantry. 
 Some are disposed to refer the intensity of their politi- 
 cal feelings to their attachment to the Catholic religion; 
 but I believe that the main cause of the temporary
 
 234 SKETCHES OF THE BAR. 
 
 ferocity into which they were excited, and in the indul- 
 gence of which they, for a while, threw off all their 
 former habits, had its origin in the excesses of which 
 a licentious soldiery were guilty, and that the dishonour 
 of their wives and daughters impelled them to revenge 
 and blood. 
 
 I have extended my description of the inhabitants of 
 these two Saxon districts (for they may be so called) 
 beyond the limits I had proposed. But I write in a 
 desultory fasiou, upon matters which are in themselves 
 somewhat unlinked together. While I was wandering 
 up and down the quay of Wexford, and, after having 
 fed my eyes to satiety, was beginning to yield to the 
 spirit of oscitation which is apt to creep upon a lawyer 
 on the Sabbath, a gentleman had the goodness to invite 
 me to accompany him up the river Slaney, to a fine 
 wood upon the banks of the stream, where he proposed 
 that his party should dine upon the refreshments with 
 which his barge was copiously stored. I gladly took 
 advantage of this very polite invitation ; the wind was 
 favourable, and wafted us along the smooth and glassy 
 stream with a rapid and delightful motion. The banks 
 are remarkable for their beauty. On the right hand, 
 as you proceed up the river, the seat of the La Hunt 
 family offers a series of acclivities covered with thick 
 and venerable wood. The temperature of the air is so 
 soft, and the aspect so much open to the mid-day sun, 
 that shrubs which are proper to southern latitudes grow 
 in abundance in these noble plantations. At every turn 
 of the stream, which winds in a sheet of silver through 
 a cultivated valley, landscapes worthy of the pencil of 
 Gainsborough or of Wilson are disclosed. Castles, old 
 Danish forts, the ruins of monasteries, and, I should
 
 DIABY OF A BARRISTER. 235 
 
 add, the falling halls of absentees, appear in a long suc- 
 cession upon both sides of the stream. 
 
 I was a good deal struck with a little nook, in which 
 a beautiful cottage rose out of green trees ; and asked 
 who was the proprietor. It had been built, it seems, 
 by Sir H. Bate Dudley, the former proprietor of the 
 Morning Herald, who resided for some time upon a 
 living given to him in. this diocese. I was informed 
 that he was respected by all classes, and beloved by 
 the poor. His departure was greatly regretted. Not 
 far from Sir H. Bate Dudley's cottage, is the residence 
 of Mr. Devereux, of Carrick Nana. He is said to be 
 descended from a brother of William the Conqueror, 
 and certainly belongs to one of the most ancient 
 families in Ireland. The political race of this gentle- 
 man is so honourably ardent, that he has gone to the 
 expense of collecting portraits of all the parliamentary 
 friends of Emancipation, and devoted a gallery to the 
 purpose. After passing his seat, we saw Mount 
 Leinster, towering in all its glory before us, with the 
 sun descending upon its peak. Having reached the 
 point of our destination, we landed in a deep and 
 tangled wood, and sat down to dinner in a cave which 
 overhangs the stream. 
 
 While we were sitting in. this spot, which I may 
 justly call a romantic one, a sweet voice rose from the 
 banks beneath, in the music of a melancholy air. It 
 was what I once heard a poor harper call " a lonesome 
 air." I do not know whether certain potations com- 
 pounded of a liquor which, in our love of the figurative, 
 we have called" mountain dew," might not have added to 
 the inspiration of the melody. When it ceased, we 
 proceeded to discover the fair vocalist who had uttered
 
 236 SKETCHES OF THE BAR. 
 
 such dulcet notes, and whom one of us compared to 
 the Lady in Comus. What was our disappointment, 
 when, upon approaching the spot from which the music 
 had proceeded, we fqund an assembly of Sabbatarian 
 wassailers, who gave vent to a loud and honest laugh, 
 as we arrived. The echoes took up their boisterous 
 merriment, which reverberated through the woods and 
 hills. The songstress who had so enchanted us, was 
 little better than a peasant girl. These good people, 
 who were sitting in a circle round a huge jug of punch, 
 had resolved to participate in the beauty of Nature, of 
 which we are all tenants in common, and like ourselves, 
 had roved out from the town to dine in the wood. 
 They entered their boat at the same time that we 
 pushed off from the bank, and accompanied us. 
 
 It was now evening. The broad water was without 
 a ripple. The sun had gone down behind Mount 
 Leinster, and a rich vermilion was spread over the 
 vast range of lofty and precipitous hills that bound the 
 western horizon. The night was advancing from the 
 east, towards which our boats were rapidly gliding. 
 The woods which hang upon the banks, had thrown 
 their broad shadows across the stream. We reached 
 the narrow pass where the remains of a palace of King 
 John, which is still called " Shaun's Court," stand 
 upon the river, while the Tower of Fitzstephen rises 
 upon the other bank. This was the first hold raised by 
 the English upon their landing. It is built on a rock, 
 and commands the gorge in which the Slaney is at this 
 point narrowly compressed. While our barge was 
 carried along the dark water, the fair vocalist, who was 
 in the other boat, was prevailed upon to sing an Irish 
 melody ; our oars were suspended. Without any know-
 
 DIARY OP A BARRISTER. 237 
 
 ledge of music, she possessed a fine voice, and was not 
 destitute of feeling. She selected an old Irish air, to 
 which Moore has appropriately allied the misfortunes 
 of Ireland. "Wexford is the birthplace of the poet;* 
 and as his beautiful words passed over the waters, I 
 could not avoid thinking that in his boyhood he must 
 often have lingered amidst the hills which surrounded 
 us, in which the loveliness of Nature is associated with 
 so many national recollections. It is not impossible 
 that his mind may have taken its first tinge from these 
 scenes, which it is difficult for even an ordinary person 
 to contemplate without a mournful emotion. The 
 enchanting melancholy of the air, which is commonly 
 called "The Coulin," and which was sweetly and 
 inartificially sung, went deeply into our hearts. The 
 impression left by the poetry and the music, which 
 were so well assisted by a beautiful locality, did not 
 soon pass away. 
 
 While our spirits were still under the influence of 
 the feelings which had been called forth by these simple 
 means, the lights of the town of Wexford were descried. 
 As we approached, I perceived the arches of the bridge, 
 which stretches its crazy length from the town to the 
 opposite side of the river. It was upon this bridge 
 that the infuriated insurgents, upon becoming masters 
 of Wexford, collected their prisoners, and murdered 
 them in what I was going to call cold blood .- but the 
 phrase would be an inappropriate one. The passions of 
 the people, which had been heated to the utmost 
 intensity in the course of that frightful contest, had 
 
 * The publication of Mr. Moore's Memoirs has settled the question 
 as to the place of his nativity. He was not born in Wexford, as Mr. 
 Shiel supposed, but in Aungier-street, Dublin.
 
 238 SKETCHES OF THE BAK. 
 
 not lost their rage at the time that they were guilty of 
 that terrific slaughter. A gentleman who sat by my 
 side, had witnessed most of the events to which I am 
 alluding. 
 
 As we neared the memorial of that horrible event, 
 (for the Bridge of "Wexford has almost become impass- 
 able, and scarcely serves any other purpose than that 
 of preserving the recollection of the sanguinary mis- 
 deeds enacted upon it) I inquired the details of the 
 massacre. He told me that some ninety persons, of 
 both sexes, were placed by the rebels upon the bridge ; 
 that their fate was intimated to them ; and that they 
 were desired to prepare for death. The Catholic clergy 
 interposed, without effect. The insurgents were bent 
 upon revenge for the wrongs which most of them had 
 individually sustained, and ferociously appealed to the 
 blood upon their own doors, in vindication of what 
 they had resolved to perpetrate. Their unfortunate 
 victims fell upon their knees, and cried out for mercy. 
 " You showed it not to our children," was the answer ; 
 and to such an answer no replication can be given in a 
 civil war. At the appointed moment, the gates of the 
 bridge were thrown open, and the work of death was 
 almost instantaneously completed. 
 
 We had now approached sufficiently near the bridge 
 to perceive its mouldering timbers with distinctness, 
 and to hear the plash of the waters against its rotten 
 planks. I am not guilty of any affectation when I say 
 that the sound was peculiarly dismal. The continuous 
 dash of the wave at all times (whatever be the cause, 
 and I leave it to metaphysicians to assign it) disposes 
 the mind to a mournful mood. Perhaps it is that the 
 rush of water, of which we are warned by its momen-
 
 DIARY OF A BARRISTER. 239 
 
 tary interruption, suggests the ideas of transitoriness, 
 and presents an image of the fleeting quality of our 
 existence. But there was something in the sound of 
 the river, as it broke upon the piles of decayed and 
 bending timber that sustain the bridge of "Wexford, of 
 a peculiarly melancholy and more than common-place 
 kind. I could not help thinking, as I surveyed that 
 decayed but still enduring fabric (why does not the 
 tide wash it into the sea ? ) that upon those shattered 
 boards, and weed-mantled planks, there had been many 
 a wretch who clung with a desperate tenacity for a 
 little longer life, until a thrust of the insurgent's pike 
 loosened the grasp of agony, and the corpse, after 
 whirling for a moment in the eddies beneath, was 
 wafted into .the ocean, and became the sea bird's 
 perch. 
 
 Such were the feelings with which I could not help 
 looking upon this memorial of the shame and disasters 
 of my country. A few days after, there occurred in 
 this very spot a scene which tended rather to rivet 
 than to weaken the political interest with which the 
 bridge of Wexford ought to be surveyed. Mr. 
 O' Council was brought as special counsel to Wexford : 
 the people determined to pay him all the honours 
 which it was in their power to bestow. It was decided 
 that an aquatic procession, if I may use the phrase,, 
 should meet him at Fitzstephen's Tower, and that he 
 should be attended by the citizens from the ground 
 where the English had fixed the foundations of their 
 dominion. The counsellor was accordingly met, at the 
 pass which I have described, by a fleet of boats, and 
 was forced to step into a triumphal barge, manned by 
 the choicest rowers who could be procured. They were
 
 240 SKETCHES OF THE BAR. 
 
 dressed in green jackets trimmed with gold. A large 
 flag of the same emblematical colour, with a harp 
 without a crown, floated from the stern. An immense 
 multitude were assembled upon the banks, and a vast 
 number of boats crowded the river. The counsellor 
 entered the patriotic barge with a show of reluctance, 
 and took his seat. Three cheers were given. 
 
 Considunt transtris ; intentaque bracHa remis : 
 Intenti expectant signum, exsultantiaque haurit 
 Corda pavor pulsans, laudumque adrecta cupido. 
 Inde, ubi clara dedit sonitnm tuba, finibus omnes, 
 Haud mora, prosilu6re suis : ferit sethera clamor 
 Nauticus : adductis spumant freta versa lacertis. 
 
 The spectacle exhibited in Wexford upon this occa- 
 sion was a striking one. The whole Catholic population 
 poured forth to greet Mr. O'Connell, and thousands 
 gathered upon the quay and bridge of Wexford to hail 
 his arrival. The Protestants, who find in every inci- 
 dent of this kind an association with the events of 1798, 
 stood with an expression of deep and angry gloom in 
 the midst of all the turbulent exultation of their Popish 
 fellow-citizens. I observed groups of silent and scowl- 
 ing men, whose physiognomies did not permit me to 
 doubt their religion. They muttered a few words to each 
 other, and seemed to gripe their hands as if they felt the 
 yeoman's sabre already in their grasp. The Catholics 
 were either heedless of their anger, or derided its impo- 
 tence. They were assembled in vast numbers upon the 
 bridge, which tottered beneath their weight. At length 
 the counsellor's barge came in sight. A cheer followed 
 every stroke of the oar, and at length he reached the 
 point selected for his reception in the city, and stepped 
 from his barge upon the bridge, which, I suppose, in the 
 eyes of the Protestant portion of the spectators, grew red
 
 DIARY OF A BARRISTER. 241 
 
 beneath his footsteps. In their disturbed imaginations 
 every foot-print was marked with blood. 
 
 The assi2es opened. The judges were the Chief- 
 Justice of the King's Bench, and Mr. Justice Johnson, 
 one of the judges of the Court of Common Pleas. 
 The former regularly goes the Leinster circuit; some 
 of his immediate friends and kindred are upon it. 
 Charles is the name of the Chief-Justice, and the 
 constellated lights, by which he is surrounded, have 
 been called "his wain." It is natural that a feeling of 
 disrelish for this undeviating adherence to Leinster 
 should exist at the Bar, and it is equally natural that 
 the Chief- Justice should disregard it. The ancient 
 residence of his family (which settled in Ireland in the 
 reign of Charles the Second) is situate in the county of 
 Kilkenny. It is for many reasons most dear to him. 
 His attachment to this domestic spot does not arise 
 from a mere idle pride of honourable birth, but takes its 
 origin in a most noble action. Although not bound to 
 do so, he sold his paternal property to pay his father's 
 debts, repurchased it with the profits of his industry and 
 his genius, and now holds the estate of his forefathers 
 by a better ^itle than descent. Lord Redesdale's nephew, 
 Mr. Mitford, who was deposited in Ireland by his able 
 uncle, has a great talent for drawing. One of his best 
 pictures hangs over the chimney of the principal room 
 at Kilmurry (the seat of the Chief-Justice) and appro- 
 priately represents Sterne's story of "the Sword." The 
 subject was felicitously chosen. It is impossible that 
 the Chief- Justice should not feel a strong attachment to 
 a mansion which affords an evidence at once of his 
 genius and of his virtues ; and it would be strange if he 
 did not exercise the privilege of selection which belongs 
 
 VOL. I. B
 
 242 SKETCHES OF THE BAR. 
 
 to his judicial rank, in favour of a circuit upon which 
 his own property is situate, in almost immediate con- 
 tiguity to every town in which it is his office to preside. 
 
 How far it is contrary to public policy to allow of this 
 perpetual return of the same judge to the same circuit, 
 admits of doubt. It is hard for a man of the purest 
 mind to divest himself of preconceptions, formed by in- 
 timate and reiterated observation. A judge is also apt to 
 take local views where he contracts topical connections, 
 and may consider it necessary to administer justice with 
 more rigour in districts with the habits of criminality of 
 which he may have acquired a peculiar intimacy. A 
 stronger anxiety for the suppression of atrocities in his 
 own immediate vicinage is almost inevitable. Offences 
 committed at our own door appear not only more 
 formidable, but enormous. It is, however, but just to 
 add, that if there be any judge, from whose constant 
 attendance of the Leinster circuit, not only no positive 
 evil, but an actual benefit arises, it is Charles Kendal 
 Bushe. As far as my observation extends, he is per- 
 fectly impartial. The rank or the religion of parties, 
 has no sort of weight with him; and to every case, 
 whatever may be the circumstances attending it, he gives 
 an equal and unbiassed hearing. His attention to the 
 interests of the lower orders, evinced by the extraordi- 
 nary solicitude with which he investigates their rights 
 in the trial of Civil Bill Appeals,* is above all praise. 
 
 It was formerly usual to hear civil bills at the close of 
 the assizes ; and the persons interested, who are almost 
 always of the humbler class, were kept in anxious and 
 expensive attendance for a whole week upon the court. 
 
 * Appeals from the decisions of the Assistant Barristers at Quarter
 
 DIARY OF A BAERISTEE. 243 
 
 Poor creatures, whose very being -was involved in the 
 result of their appeals, were assembled in a dismal 
 gathering in the town, and, before their causes were 
 heard, had expended nearly the whole amount of the 
 sum decreed against them, in awaiting the capricious 
 pleasure of the judge to reverse the sentence of the 
 inferior tribunal. When this branch of business was 
 called on, the judge was generally impatient to leave the 
 town, and hurried, with a careless precipitation through 
 matters which, however insignificant in the mind of the 
 wealthier suitor, were of permanent moment to the 
 wretched peasants, who flocked to the assizes for redress. 
 The Chief- Justice has reformed those crying abuses, and 
 devotes as much consideration to the trial of minor 
 cases, as to causes of the greatest magnitude. He has, 
 by introducing this practice, which could not have been 
 established by him without a continued selection of the 
 circuit, conferred signal advantages upon the public. 
 
 Mr. Justice Johnson was joined with the Chief 
 Justice in the commission. He is the brother of the 
 ex-judge of that name, who wrote the celebrated Letters 
 of Juverna, and who is justly accounted one of the 
 ablest men in Ireland.* The two brothers are men 
 
 * Neither of the Johnsons is now living. Robert Johnson, while a 
 Judge of the Common Pleas, was the author of a libel, published in 
 1803 in Cobbetfs Weekly Register, upon Lord Hardwicke, then Lord 
 Lieutenant of Ireland, Lord Rcdesdale, the Chancellor, Judge Osborne, 
 and others. Cobbett was tried for the publication in 1804, and found 
 guilty. Subsequently evidence was obtained against the Judge himself, 
 and having been indicted in England, he was arrested (or as his friends 
 called it, "kidnapped") in Ireland, upon a warrant issued by Lord 
 Ellenborough. The legality of the arrest was called in question, by writs 
 of habeas corpus, in the King's Bench, and afterwards in the Exchequer, 
 but after long arguments, in which Mr. Cnrran was Johnson's leading 
 counsel, the arrest was held to be good by both courts. To be brief, a 
 
 K2
 
 244 SKETCHES OF THE BAR. 
 
 of eminent talents, but wholly dissimilar in character. 
 The political writer is calm, ironical, biting, and sar- 
 castic, and uses shafts of the finest temper, steeped in 
 venom. The present judge is vehement, impetuous, 
 frank, and vigorous; and while the one shoots his 
 finely feathered arrows, the other whirls about a mas- 
 sive and roughly knotted club. He is warm and 
 excitable, and effervesces in an instant. This sudden- 
 ness has its origin in the goodness of his nature. If 
 he suspects collusion or fraud, or gets the least hint of 
 baseness in any transaction, he immediately takes fire. 
 In these moods of explosive honesty, there is some- 
 thing formidable to a person who does not know that 
 the ebullitions of integrity subside as rapidly as they 
 break out; and that, with all these indications of 
 angry temperament, he is in reality a kind and tract- 
 able man. 
 
 conviction followed, but the proceedings went no further ; the judge 
 resigned his office, and retired on a pension. 
 
 The Letters of Juverna appeared in the Dublin "Evening Post. The 
 " finely feathered arrows," which Kobert Johnson is described as shoot- 
 ing, is probably an allusion to a favourite project of the ex-judge, to 
 familiarize the peasantry of Ireland with the use of the bow as an engine 
 of patriotic warfare. But his warlike tastes exhibited themselves in other 
 ways besides the cultivation of archery. Mr. Moore saw him in liis rural 
 retreat in 1830, and gives the following curious account of his visit : 
 
 " Johnson's head runs upon mill tary matters in a way most strange 
 in an ex-judge of eighty. As soon as we got to his house, he took me 
 into his library to show me the sort of short rifle which Lord Edward 
 Fitzgerald recommended instead of the long unwieldy one used by the 
 American Indians ; also the kind of pike contrived either by Lord E. or 
 by Johnson himself, to be used in popular warfare, as at once the most 
 effective and portable. It was curious to see the little old judge, in an 
 erect posture, and with an eye full of fire, slinging his rifle over his 
 shoulder to show me with what ease it could be carried." Moore't 
 Memoirs, vol. iv.
 
 DIARY OF A BAREISTEE. 245 
 
 At the same time we must beware of wantonly pro- 
 voking him. "Noli irritare leonem," is a precept 
 which the contemplation of his countenance has some- 
 times recalled to me. His deep voice that issues upon 
 a hunter of subtleties in a roar, his broad and massive 
 face, a pair of ponderous brows that overhang his 
 flashing eyes, a certain shagginess of look, and a start 
 of the whole body with which he erects himself, sug- 
 gest the image of that " fine animal " to my mind. 
 This learned and excitable person, with all his sudden- 
 ness of emotion, is extremely good and kind-hearted; 
 and although he may now and then say a rough thing, 
 never aims a deliberate blow at the feelings or reputa- 
 tion of any man. As a criminal judge, he is truly 
 merciful and compassionate; and as a civil one, is 
 learned, sagacious, and acute. In the Court of Com- 
 mon Pleas he exhibits much more irritability than 
 upon circuits. He is exasperated by the witticisms of 
 Lord Norbury, who says that his brother is like a 
 young horse, and wishes to draw the entire coach him- 
 self. To adopt his Lordship's illustration, it must be 
 owned that he kicks and plunges when yoked with 
 " that gallant grey," but pulls single exceedingly well. 
 
 No trial of any very considerable interest occurred 
 during the last assizes ; but, in looking over my diary, 
 I find a sketch which I made at the time of a very 
 important case, which was tried by Judge Johnson 
 during a preceding circuit, and which it may gratify 
 the curiosity of the English reader to have transcribed. 
 I allude to the prosecution of Father Carroll, the 
 Wexford priest, who killed a child in a fit of insanity, 
 under circumstances which greatly excited the public 
 attention.
 
 246 SKETCHES OF THE BAB. 
 
 This unfortunate man, for he deserves no- harsher 
 appellation, had from his childhood a strong predis- 
 position to insanity. It was with great difficulty that 
 he succeeded in obtaining ordination. His aberrations 
 from reason, before they amounted to actual madness, 
 were connected with the subject of exorcism; and 
 although every person to whom he addressed his argu- 
 ments in favour of the expulsion of devils, smiled at 
 his extravagance, they still could not help acknowledging 
 that he argued with subtlety upon wrong premises, 
 and confessed that his applications of various passages 
 in the holy writings were ingenious, however mistaken. 
 It was in vain that Father Carroll was told that the 
 power of Satan to possess himself of human bodies 
 ceased with the revelation of Christian truth. He 
 appealed to the Acts of the Apostles, and to incidents 
 subsequent to the death of our Saviour, to establish 
 his favourite speculation. A medical man, with whom 
 he was intimate, perceived that the subject had laid 
 such a hold upon his naturally excitable imagination, 
 that he resorted to sedative medicines to avert the 
 progress of an incipient malady, to which he had an 
 organical predisposition. As long as he followed his 
 physician's advice, he abstained from any acts of a 
 very extravagant nature; but unhappily, before the 
 events took place, which formed the ground of a 
 capital prosecution, he neglected to take his usual 
 preventives, and became utterly deranged. 
 
 He suddenly fancied himself endowed with super- 
 natural authority. This fantastic notion seized upon 
 him in the midst of divine service ; after the wild per- 
 formance of which, he rushed into the public road 
 that led from the chapel to his house, in search of an
 
 DIABY OF A BAEEI6TEE. 247 
 
 object for the manifestation of his miraculous powers. 
 He was informed that a labourer of the name of Neill 
 was confined by illness to his bed; and being con- 
 vinced that he was possessed by an evil spirit, pro- 
 ceed to effect the removal of his enemy. His singular 
 demeanour attracted the attention of the passengers, 
 who followed him to Neill 5 s cottage ; which he had no 
 sooner entered, than he precipitated himself upon the 
 sick man, and began his miraculous operations with 
 marvellous vigour. " A severe pommelling was the pro- 
 cess of exorcism which he regarded as most effectual. 
 This he put into immediate and effectual practice. 
 Neill did not attempt to resist this athletic antagonist 
 of the devil. The unhappy gentleman had determined 
 to take Beelzebub by storm. After a long assault, he 
 succeeded in this strange achievement, and having 
 informed the astonished bystanders that he had taken 
 the enemy prisoner, announced that he should give 
 him no quarter, but plunge him into the Bed Sea. 
 
 The manner of this aquatic ceremony was described 
 by one of the witnesses, who endeavoured to illustrate 
 it by his gesture. After uttering various cabalistic 
 words, he whirled himself in a rapid rotation, with his 
 arms outstretched, and then, suddenly pausing and 
 raising himself into an attitude of importance befitting 
 his new authority, advanced with one arm a-kimbo, 
 and with the other extended, looking, as the witness 
 expressed it, " as if he held the devil by the tail," and 
 marched with a measured pace and a mysterious aspect 
 to a bridge upon the river Slaney, where he buried the 
 captive demon in what he took for the Red Sea. 
 
 Not contented with this exploit, he. exclaimed that 
 Neill had seven more devils, which he was determined
 
 248 SKETCHES OP THE BAR. 
 
 to expel from this peculiar object of diabolical predi- 
 lection. The operation was accordingly repeated with 
 such success, that Neill, after much strenuous expostu- 
 lation, leaped out of his bed, and exclaimed that he 
 was quite well. This circumstance produced a deep 
 impression upon the crowd, amongst whom there were 
 some Protestants; and two of the latter knelt down 
 and called upon the Lord to assist Father Carroll in 
 the perpetration of the next miracle, which, encouraged 
 by their pious sympathies, he almost immediately pro- 
 ceeded to commit. A poor woman happened to pass 
 along the road, whom he had no sooner observed, than 
 he knocked her down, and pursued a mode of exorcism 
 similar to that which I have described, with such effect, 
 that one of the spectators cried out for the people to 
 make way, " as he saw the devil coming out." 
 
 This achievement only served to excite the wretched 
 maniac, and impel him to another undertaking of the 
 same kind. He insisted "that the devil had taken 
 possession of Sinot's child." Sinot had a child who 
 had been affected by fits, and over whom the priest 
 had been requested by its mother to say prayers. This 
 was not only a natural, but I will add a reasonable 
 application. It is not supposed by Roman Catholics 
 that the prayers of a clergyman are endowed with any 
 preternatural efficacy ; but it is considered that praying 
 over the sick is a pious and religious act. The recollec- 
 tion of this fatal request passed across the distempered 
 mind of the madman, who hurried with an insane 
 alacrity to Sinot's cabin. It was composed of two 
 rooms upon the ground floor, in the smaller of which 
 lay the little victim. It was indeed so contracted that 
 it could not contain more than two or three persons.
 
 DIARY OF A BARRISTER. 249 
 
 The crowd who followed the priest remained outside, 
 and were utterly unconscious of what he was about to 
 do. The father of the child was not in the house when 
 Father Carroll entered it, and was prevented by the 
 pressure in the exterior room from approaching him; 
 and for some time after the death of the child was 
 wholly unconscious of what had taken place. 
 
 No efforts whatever were made to prevent his inter- 
 ference. He was produced as a witness upon the trial, 
 and swore that it did not enter into his thoughts that 
 Father Carroll intended to do the child the least harm. 
 He could not, he said, even see the priest. It is not 
 necessary to describe the manner of the infant's death. 
 It is enough to say, that after uttering a few feeble 
 cries, and calling upon its "mammy," every sound 
 became extinct. The madman had placed the child 
 under a tub, and life was extinguished. It may well 
 be imagined that the trial of this case excited a strong 
 sensation in the county where the rebellion had raged 
 with its most dangerous fury, and from which it will be 
 long before its recollections will have entirely passed 
 away. The Protestant party, forgetting that many of 
 their own sect had taken a partial share in the proceed- 
 ings, of which they had been at all events the passive 
 witnesses, exhibited a proud and disdainful exultation, 
 and affected a deep scorn for the intellectual debase- 
 ment of which they alleged this event to be a manifest 
 proof; while the Catholics disclosed a festered soreness 
 upon an incident which, they could not fail to feel, was 
 likely to expose them to much plausible imputation. 
 
 The Court-house was crowded to the roof by persons 
 of all classes and opinions, among whom the clergy of 
 both churches were conspicuous. It was filled with 
 parsons and Math priests. Although there is a certain
 
 250 SKETCHES OF THE BAB. 
 
 clerical affinity between ecclesiastics of all sorts, it was 
 not difficult, under a cloth of the same colour, to dis- 
 tinguish between the ministers of the two religions. 
 An expression of sly disdain, accompanied with a joy- 
 ous glitter of the eye, gleamed over the parsons' faces ; 
 while the countenances of the Catholic clergy betrayed, 
 in the rude play of their marked and impassioned 
 features, the bitter consciousness of unmerited humi- 
 liation. 
 
 The dress of the two clerical parties presented a sin- 
 gular contrast. The priests were cased in huge top-boots 
 of dubious and murky yellow and of bespattered black : 
 the parsons' taper limbs were inclosed in tight and sable 
 silk, which, by compressing, disclosed their plump pro- 
 portions. The nameless integuments of the popish 
 ministers of the gospel were framed of substantial 
 thickset, and bore evidence to the high trot of the 
 rough-coated nags with which they had descended from 
 the mountains; while the immaculate kerseymere of 
 the parsons' inexpressibles indicated with what nicety 
 they had picked their steps through all the mire of the 
 Catholic multitude round the court. The priests' dingy 
 waistcoats were closely fastened to their neckcloths, and 
 looked like an armour of economy ; while the parsons' 
 exhibited the finest cambric, wrought into minute and 
 snow-white folds. A ponderous mantle of smoking 
 frieze hung from the shoulders of the priest ; while a 
 well-shaped jerkin brought the parson's symmetries 
 into relief. The parson held a pinch of Prince's mix- 
 ture between his lifted fingers, while the priest impelled 
 a reiterated and ample mass of Lundifoot into his olfac- 
 tory organ. The priesf s cheek was ruddy with the keen 
 air of the mountain and the glen, while the faint blush 
 upon the parson's cheek left it a matter for conjecture,
 
 DIARY OF A BARRISTER. 251 
 
 whether it proceeded from some remnant of nature, or 
 was the result of the delicate tincture of art. The 
 former sat near the desk, and the latter near the 
 bench. 
 
 Beside the Clergy of the two religions, I observed 
 another class, whom, from their plain apparel and 
 primitive aspect, I took for the friars of Wexford, but 
 upon looking more closely I discovered my mistake. 
 There was a grimness in their expression, quite foreign 
 from the natural an"d easy cheerfulness of an Irish Fran- 
 ciscan ; and in their disastrous and Calvinistic visages, 
 their long lank hair, and the gloomy leer of mingled 
 hatred and derision with which they surveyed the 
 Catholics around them, I beheld the ghostly " teachers 
 of the Word." 
 
 A pause took place before the trial was called on, 
 which rendered expectation more intense; at length 
 Mr. Justice Johnson directed that the prisoner should 
 be brought forward. Every eye was turned to the 
 dock, and the prisoner stood at the bar. His figure 
 was tall and dignified. A large black cloak with a 
 scarlet collar was fastened with a clasp round his neck, 
 but not so closely as to cpnceal the ample chest, across 
 which his arms were loosely and resignedly folded. His 
 strong black hair was bound with a velvet band, to con- 
 ceal the recent incisions made by the surgeon in his 
 head. His countenance was smooth and finely chiseled; 
 and it was observed by many that his features, which, 
 though small, were marked, bore a miniature resem- 
 blance to Napoleon. His colour was dead and chalky, 
 and it was impossible to perceive the least play or variety 
 of emotion about the mouth, which continued open, and 
 of the colour of ashes. On being called on to plead, 
 he remained silent. The Court was about to direct an
 
 252 SKETCHES OF THE BAR. 
 
 inquiry whether he was " mute of malice," when it was 
 seen by a glance of his eye, that he was conscious of 
 the purport of the question; and by the directions of 
 his counsel he pleaded Not Guilty. 
 
 During the trial, which was conducted with the most 
 exemplary moderation by the counsel for the crown, he 
 retained his petrified and statue-like demeanour; and 
 although the heat was most intense, the hue of his face 
 and lips did not undergo the slightest change. The jury 
 found that he had committed the direful act under the 
 influence of insanity. Judge Johnson addressed him in 
 a very striking and pathetic manner. He seemed to 
 me to have blood in his eye for Prince Hohenloe, whose 
 miracles were then in vogue, and were supposed, how- 
 ever erroneously, to have contributed to the prisoner's 
 infatuation. This was a mistake : he was organically 
 insane, and was in reality as innocent as the poor child 
 who had perished in his hands. The learned judge 
 opened a masked battery upon Bamberg, and some of 
 the shots reached Home : but he should not have for- 
 gotten that there is a form for exorcism in the Pro- 
 testant as well as in the Roman Catholic ritual.* The 
 religion of England requires a further cleansing, and a 
 new Reformation might be a judicious project. 
 
 * This la a mistake. There is no form of exorcism in the services of 
 the Church of England as they exist at present ; but it is certain that 
 the revisers of the English ritual did not at first abolish that part of the 
 ancient baptismal rite which contained, among other ceremonials, the 
 signing with the cross and " the sacrament of salt," in which the form 
 of exorcism was included. Upon further revision, however, these por- 
 tions of the service disappeared. See the Prayer Book of 1549, and 
 Palmer's Origines Liturgicce, published at Oxford in 1836. 
 
 The Hohenloe miracles made a great noise in 1822-3. See the paper 
 entitled Exorcism of a Divine, for some curious particulars respecting 
 them.
 
 253 
 
 THE BURNING OF THE SHEAS. 
 
 [AUGUST, 1827.] 
 
 IT is by this title that the terrible crime in which so 
 many immolators and so many victims were involved, is 
 habitually designated ; whenever a man expatiates upon 
 the atrocities which disgrace the country, and upon the 
 conflagrations by which its character is blackened, he 
 refers, as to a leading illustration, to "the burning of 
 the Sheas." I shall not readily forget the impression 
 which was produced upon me, on my first passing near 
 the spot in which that dreadful incident took place, 
 when some of its details were narrated by one of my 
 fellow-travellers, in descending the narrow defile of 
 Glenbower. The remains of the habitation in which 
 eighteen human beings were committed together to the 
 flames are not visible from the road that winds at the 
 foot of the mountain on which it was situated ; but the 
 dark and gloomy glen in which the deed was done can 
 be pierced by the eye, when the mists that hang upon 
 the lofty ridge do not envelope it; and it is always with 
 awe, which is not a little assisted by the loneliness and 
 dreariness of the scene, that a traveller turns his eyes 
 towards that dismal valley, to which his attention is
 
 254 SKETCHES OP THE BAR. 
 
 directed by the habitual exclamation which I had never 
 failed to hear, "There is the place where the Sheas 
 were burned." 
 
 I had an opportunity, in consequence of having at- 
 tended two trials connected with that frightful event, of 
 learning the circumstances by which it was attended; 
 and as in these sketches I have not only endeavoured to 
 draw the portraits of individual barristers, but also to 
 describe the character of their occupations as influenced 
 by the nature of the cases in which they are engaged, 
 an occasional account of the most important and striking 
 of those cases falls within the scope of these essays, and 
 at all events may not be unattended with interest to the 
 reader. 
 
 Upon the morning of the 20th of November, 1821, 
 the remains of the house of Patrick Shea, a respectable 
 farmer, who held a considerable quantity of land at the 
 foot of the mountain of Slievenamaun, exhibited an 
 appalling spectacle. It had been consumed by fire on 
 the preceding night, and a large concourse of people 
 (the intelligence of the conflagration having been 
 rapidly diffused through the neighbouring glens) as- 
 sembled to look upon the ruins. Of the thatched roof 
 which had first received the fire, a few smoking rafters 
 were all that remained. The walls had given way, and 
 stood gaping in rents, through which, on approaching 
 them, the eye caught a glimpse of the dreadful effects 
 of the devouring element. The door was burned to its 
 hinges; and on arriving at the threshold, as awful a 
 scene offered itself to the spectator as is recorded in the 
 annals of terror. The bodies of sixteen human beings 
 of both sexes lay together in a mass of corpses. The 
 door having been closed when the flames broke out, the
 
 THE BURNING OP THE SHEAS. 255 
 
 inhabitants precipitated themselves towards it, and in 
 all likelihood mutually counteracted their efforts to 
 burst into the open air. The house being a small one, 
 every individual in it had an opportunity of rushing 
 towards the entrance, where they were gathered by 
 hope, and perished in despair. Here they lay piled 
 upon each other. Those who were uppermost were 
 burned to the bones, while the wretches who were 
 stretched beneath them were partially consumed. 
 
 One of the spectators, the uncle of a young woman, 
 Catherine Mullaly, who perished in the flames, described 
 the scene with a terrible particularity. With an ex- 
 pression of horror which six years had not effaced, he 
 said, when examined as a witness, that the melted flesh 
 ran from the heap of carcases in black streams along the 
 floor. But terrible as this sight must have been, there 
 was another still more appalling. The young woman, 
 whom I have already mentioned, Catherine Mullaly, 
 resided in the house, and had been not very long before 
 married. She had advanced a considerable period 
 in pregnancy, and her child, which was born in the 
 flames in a premature labour, made the eighteenth 
 victim. I shall never forget the answer given by her 
 uncle at the trial, when he was asked how many had 
 perished, he answered that there were seventeen ; but 
 if the child that was dropped (that was his phrase) in the 
 fire was counted, the whole would make eighteen. His 
 unfortunate niece was delivered of her offspring in the 
 midst of the flames. She was not found among the 
 mass of carcases at the door. There were sixteen 
 wretches assembled there, but, on advancing farther 
 into the house, in a corner of the room, lay the body of 
 this unhappy young creature, and the condition in which
 
 256 SKETCHES OP THE BAR. 
 
 her child was discovered, accounted for her separation 
 from the group of the dead. A tub of water lay on the 
 ground beside her. In it she had placed the infant of 
 which she had been just delivered while the fires were 
 raging about her, in the hope of preserving it ; and in 
 preserving its limbs she had succeeded, for the body 
 was perfect with the exception of the head, which was 
 held above the water, and which was burned away. 
 Near this tub she was found, with the skeleton of the 
 arm with which she had held her child hanging over it. 
 It will be supposed that the whole of this spectacle 
 excited a feeling of dismay among the spectators ; but 
 they were actuated by a variety of sentiments. Most 
 of them had learned caution and silence, which are 
 among the characteristics of the Irish peasantry, and, 
 whatever were their feelings, deemed it advisable to gaze 
 on without a comment; and there were not wanting 
 individuals who, folding their arms, and looking on the 
 awful retribution, whispered sternly to each other, "that 
 William Gorman was at last revenged." 
 
 When information of this dreadful event reached 
 Dublin, it produced, as it was natural to expect, a very 
 great sensation. It was at first believed that "the 
 burning of the Sheas" was the result of that con- 
 federacy, by which the peasantry had regulated the 
 taking of lands, and that as the previous tenant, one 
 William Gorman, had been ejected by the Sheas, 
 against the will of the people, the house had been set 
 on fire. But it was asked, what object could there be 
 in destroying so many individuals who were innocent of 
 all crime, and were mere labourers and servants in the 
 employment of the occupying farmer. This reflection, 
 and a wish to rescue the national character from the
 
 THE BURNING OF THE SHEAS. 257 
 
 disgrace of so wanton an atrocity, gradually induced a 
 surmise that the fire had been accidental; and this 
 conjecture was confirmed by the fact, that notwith- 
 standing a large reward had been offered for the dis- 
 covery of the incendiaries, no information was given to 
 the Government; at length, however, the fatal truth 
 was disclosed, and it was ascertained that the conflagra- 
 tion was the result of a plot executed by a considerable 
 band of men, and that the whole population in the 
 neighbourhood were well aware both of the project, and 
 of its execution. The first clue to this abominable 
 transaction was given by a woman of the name of Mary 
 Kelly. 
 
 This female had been a person of dissolute life, and 
 had married a servant, who, having relinquished his 
 emploj r ment, some time after his marriage established, 
 with the assistance of his wife, what is commonly called 
 "a Shebeen House/' in the vicinity of the Sheas, at the 
 foot of Slievenamaun. It was a kind of mountain 
 brothel, or rather combined the exercise of a variety of 
 trades, which, in the subdivision of labour that takes 
 place in towns, are generally practised apart. Her 
 husband stated that he sold spirits without licence; 
 provided board and lodging to any passengers who 
 thought it expedient to take up their abode with him ; 
 and that if a young man and woman had any wish to be 
 left alone in his hospitable and accommodating mansion 
 at a late hour at night, he and his wife did not think it 
 genteel to meddle with their discourse. It will be 
 thought singular, that in so wild and desolate a district, 
 in the midst of solitary glens and moors, such con- 
 veniences should exist ; but they are not unfrequent ; 
 and one often meets these traces of civilization in parts 
 
 VOL. I. S
 
 258 SKETCHES OF THE BAR. 
 
 of the country which carry no other evidence of refine- 
 ment. Mary Kelly appears to have superintended and 
 conducted this establishment ; her husband merely 
 giving it the sanction of wedlock, and joining in the 
 licentious conviviality which took place under his aus- 
 pices. But although his wife had, upon her own ad- 
 mission, been of profligate habits, until time had trans- 
 muted her, by the ordinary process, from a harlot to a 
 procuress, yet she does not appear to have been utterly 
 devoid of all virtuous sentiment ; and, indeed, the scene 
 which she had witnessed was of such a nature as to 
 awaken any remnant of conscience, which often, in the 
 midst of depravity, is found to linger behind. 
 
 A peasant of the name of "William Gorman, at whose 
 trial Sergeant Blackburne conducted the prosecution, 
 had originally held the house where the Sheas resided. 
 He was their under-tenant, and held the lowest place 
 in those numerous gradations of tenure into which 
 almost every field is divided and subdivided; for the 
 Sheas were not middle-men in the strict sense of the 
 word, but stood themselves at a great distance from the 
 head proprietor of the estate, although they were the 
 immediate landlords of Gorman. The more remote the 
 head landlord, the heavier the weight with which 
 oppression falls on the occupier of the soil. The owner 
 of the fee presses his lessee; the latter comes down 
 upon the tenant who derives from him, who, in his 
 turn, crushes his own immediate serf; and if, which 
 often happens in this long concatenation of vassalage, 
 there are many other interventions of estate, the occu- 
 pier of the soil is in proportion made to suffer ; and 
 is, to use the expression of Lord Clare, " ground to 
 powder," in this complicated system of exaction.
 
 THE BURNING OF THE SHEAS. 259 
 
 William Gorman was dealt with most severely. He 
 was distrained, sued in the superior courts, processed 
 by civil bill, in short, the whole machinery of the law 
 was put into action against him. Driven from his 
 home, deprived of his few fields, without covert or 
 shelter, he made an appeal to the league of peasants 
 with whom he was associated ; and as the Sheas had 
 infringed upon their statutes, it was determined that 
 they should die, and that an exemplary and appalling 
 vengeance should be taken of them. I saw William 
 Gorman at the bar of the court in which he was con- 
 demned : he heard the whole detail of the atrocities of 
 which he had been the primary agent. He was evi- 
 dently most solicitous for the preservation of life ; yet 
 the expression of anxiety which disturbed his ghastly 
 features occasionally gave way to the exulting con- 
 sciousness of his revenge; and, as he heard the nar- 
 ration of his own delinquencies, so far from intimating 
 contrition or remorse, a savage joy flashed over his 
 face; his eyes were lighted up with a fire as lurid as that 
 which he had kindled in the habitation of his enemies ; 
 his hand, which had previously quivered, and mani- 
 fested, in the irregular movement of his fingers, the 
 workings of deep anxiety, became, for a moment, 
 clenched; and when the groans of his victims were 
 described, his white teeth, which were unusually pro- 
 minent, were bared to the gums ; and, though he had 
 drained the cup of vengeance to the dregs, still he 
 seemed to smack his lips, and to lick the blood with 
 which his injuries had been redressed. 
 
 This man had the vindictive feelings of a savage; 
 but, while his barbarities admit of no sort of extenua- 
 tion, they still were not without a motive. His co- 
 
 s 2
 
 260 SKETCHES OF THE BAR. 
 
 partners in villany, however, who arranged and con- 
 ducted the enterprise, had no instigation of personal 
 vengeance towards the oppressors of William Gorman. 
 At their head was a bold and sagacious ruffian, whose 
 name was Maher. It was determined that their plot 
 should be carried into execution on Monday, the 20th 
 of November. On the preceding Saturday, Maher 
 went to Mary Kelly's house, and retired to a recess in 
 it, where he employed himself in melting lead, and 
 fusing it into balls. He was supposed to be a paramour 
 of Mary Kelly (though she strenuously denied it), and she 
 was certainly familiar with him. She had heard, (indeed, 
 it was known through the whole of that wild vicinage,) 
 that it was intended to inflict summary justice upon the 
 Sheas ; and being well aware that Maher was likely to 
 dip his hands in any bloody business which was to go 
 on, and observing his occupation, which he did not seek 
 to hide from her, she taxed him with his " slaughterous 
 thoughts," and having some good instincts left, begged 
 him not to take life away. Maher answered with equi- 
 vocation. During this colloquy, Catherine Mullaly, a 
 cousin of Mary Kelly, came into the house. 
 
 Maher was well acquainted with her, and had the 
 rude gallantry which is common among the Irish 
 peasantry. She resided as a servant with the Sheas. 
 Maher believed that there were arms in the Sheas' pos- 
 session, and knew that there were a number of persons 
 living in the house, with a view to their defence. The 
 extent, however, of their means of self-protection the 
 murderers had not ascertained, and it was important to 
 learn the fact, in order that they might adapt to cir- 
 cumstances their mode of attack. It is probable, that 
 if there had been no weapons in the house, the con-
 
 THE BURNING OF THE SHEAS. 261 
 
 spirators would have burst open the door, dragged the 
 Sheas out, and put them to death, and would have 
 spared the more unoffending victims : but having dis- 
 covered that there were fire-arms in abundance, they 
 considered the burning of the house as a measure of 
 self-defence, independently of the impression which a 
 massacre upon a large scale would be likely to produce. 
 
 Maher, therefore, sought to ascertain the state of 
 defence from Catherine Mullaly, and entered into con- 
 versation with her in the tone of mixed joke and gibe, 
 of which the lower orders, who delight in repartee, are 
 exceedingly fond. The young woman was pleased with 
 his attentions ; and in the innocence of her heart, not 
 having any suspicion of his intent, gradually disclosed 
 to him that there was a quantity of arms in the house. 
 Maher, on her departure, put on her cloak, and bade 
 her farewell in the tone of friendship. Mary Kelly, 
 who knew him well, and guessed at his object, the mo- 
 ment Catherine Mullaly was gone (for she did not dare 
 to speak in her presence) implored Maher, whatever he 
 might intend, not to harm Catherine Mullaly. She 
 extorted a promise from him to that effect, on which 
 she relied for the moment, and they separated ; Maher 
 with his balls, and Mary Kelly with the undertaking 
 for the life of Catherine Mullaly, in which she placed 
 so mistaken a confidence. After some reflection, how- 
 ever, her alarm for the safety of her relative, to wohm 
 she was much attached, revived, and during the next 
 day her suspicions were increased by the notes of pre- 
 paration which she observed between Maher and his 
 confederates. 
 
 However, she did not venture to speak ; for, to use 
 her own phrase, " a word would have been as much as
 
 262 SKETCHES OF THE BAB. 
 
 her life was worth \" still a terrible inquietude preyed 
 upon her, and, as if actuated by some mysterious im- 
 pulse, upon Monday night, when her husband, to whom 
 she never communicated her apprehensions, was asleep, 
 she silently rose from bed, and having huddled on his 
 coat, left her cabin, though it was near midnight, and 
 advanced cautiously and slowly along the hedges, until 
 she made her way to near Mailer's house. She stopped, 
 and heard the voices of men engaged in discussion, 
 which lasted some time ; at length the door opened 
 she hid herself behind some brambles, and bending 
 down, in order to avoid detection, which would have 
 been death, she marked the murderers as they came 
 forth. They issued from Maher's house in arms, and 
 walked in a sort of array, advancing in file. Eight of 
 them she knew ; and, as she alleged, distinctly recog- 
 nized them by their voices and looks. One of them 
 carried two pieces of turf, lighted at the extremities, 
 and kept the fire alive with his breath. They passed 
 her without observation, and proceeded upon their 
 dreadful destination. Trembling and terror-struck, but 
 still impelled to pursue them, she followed on from 
 hedge to hedge, until they got beyond her ; and per- 
 ceiving that they proceeded towards the house of the 
 Sheas, she stopped at a spot from which the house was 
 visible, and by which the murderers, after executing 
 their diabolical purpose, afterwards returned. 
 
 Here she remained in terrible anticipation, and her 
 conjecture was speedily verified. A fire suddenly ap- 
 peared in the roof of Shea's house ; the wind high, it 
 rose rapidly into a flame, and the whole was speedily in a 
 blaze. It cast around the rocky glen a frightful splen- 
 dour, and furnished, in its extensive diffusion of light,
 
 THE BURNING OF THE SHEAS. 263 
 
 the means of beholding all that took place close to the 
 burning cottage, in which shrieks and cries for mercy 
 began to be heard. The murderers had secured the 
 door; and having prevented all possibility of escape, 
 stood in groups about the house, and gazed on the pro- 
 gress of the conflagration. So far from being moved 
 to pity, they answered the invocations of their victims 
 with yells of ferocious laughter. They set up a war- 
 whoop of exultation, and, in token of triumph, dis- 
 charged their guns and blunderbusses to celebrate their 
 achievement. There was an occasional pause in their 
 shouts : nothing then was heard but the crackling of 
 the flames, that shed far and wide their desolate illu- 
 mination; and the spectatress of this dreadful scene, 
 though at some distance from it, declared that, in the 
 temporary abatement of the wind, and the cessation of 
 its gusts, she could at intervals hear the deep groans of 
 the dying, and the gulps of agony with which their 
 tortures were concluding. 
 
 But the fiends by whom these infernal fires were 
 kindled, soon reiterated their cries of exultation, and 
 discharged their guns again. The report of their fire- 
 arms, which was taken up by the echoes of the moun- 
 tain, produced a result which they had not anticipated. 
 On the opposite side of a hill which adjoined the house, 
 there resided a man of the name of Philip Dillon, who 
 was a friend of the Sheas. Hearing the discharge of 
 guns, and suspecting what had taken place, he sum- 
 moned as many as he could gather together, and pro- 
 ceeded at their head across the hill, in order, if possible, 
 to save the Sheas. They advanced towards the house, 
 but arrived too late: neither had they courage to attack 
 the murderers, who at once drew up before the flames
 
 264 SKETCHES OF THE BAB. 
 
 to meet them. Philip Dillon, indeed, defied them to 
 come on, but they declined his challenge, and waited 
 his attack, which, as his numbers were inferior, he 
 thought it prudent not to make. Both parties stood 
 looking at each other, and in the mean while the house 
 continued to blaze. The groans were heard for a little 
 time, until they grew fainter and fainter; and at length 
 all was silent. 
 
 Although the arrival of Philip Dillon did not contri- 
 bute to save any of the sufferers, still it was the means 
 of convicting William Gorman, by affording a corrobo- 
 ration to the testimony of Mary Kelly. John Butler, 
 a boy, who was in the employment of Philip Dillon, 
 and accompanied him to the burning house, was the 
 brother of one of the servants of the Sheas. Notwith- 
 standing he could not give any assistance to his brother, 
 yet his anxiety to discover the murderers induced him 
 to approach nearer than his companions to the flames, 
 when, by the fire which they had kindled, Butler had 
 an opportunity of identifying William Gorman, against 
 whom he gave his testimony, and thus sustained the 
 evidence of Mary Kelly. 
 
 All was now over the roof had fallen in, and the 
 ruins of the cottage were become a sepulchre. Gorman 
 and Maher, with their associates, left the scene of their 
 atrocities, and returned by the same path by which they 
 had arrived. Another eye, however, besides that of 
 God, was upon them. They passed a second time near 
 the place where Mary Kelly lay concealed : again she 
 cowered at their approach ; and, as they went by, had 
 a second opportunity of identifying them. Here a 
 circumstance took place which is, perhaps, more utterly 
 detestable than any other which I have yet recorded.
 
 THE BURNING OF THE SHEAS. 265 
 
 The conversation of the murderers turned upon the 
 doings of the night, and William Gorman amused the 
 party by mimicking the groans of the dying, and mock- 
 ing the agonies which he had inflicted. 
 
 The morning now began to break, and Mary Kelly, 
 haggard, affrighted, and laden with the dreadful know- 
 ledge of what had taken place, returned to her home. 
 Well aware, however, of the consequences of any dis- 
 closure, she did not utter a syllable to her husband, or 
 to her son, upon the subject; and although examined 
 next day before a magistrate, who conjectured, from 
 the ill-fame of her house, that she must have had some 
 cognizance of what had taken place, she declared herself 
 to be innocent of all knowledge. John Butler, too, who 
 had witnessed the death of his brother, immediately 
 proceeded to the house of his mother, Alicia Butler, an 
 old woman, who was produced as a witness for the 
 crown ; he awoke her from sleep, and told her that her 
 son had been burned alive. Her maternal feelings 
 burst into an exclamation of horror upon first hearing 
 this dreadful intelligence; but, instead of immediately 
 proceeding to a magistrate, she enjoined her son not to 
 speak on the subject, lest she herself, and all her family, 
 should suffer the same fate. 
 
 For sixteen months, no information whatever was 
 communicated to Government. Mary Kelly was still 
 silent, and did not dare to reproach Maher with the 
 murder of Catherine Mullaly, for whose life she had 
 made a stipulation. She did not even venture to look 
 in the face of the murderer, although, when he visited 
 at her house, which he continued to do, she could not 
 help shuddering at his presence. Still the deeds which 
 she had seen were inlaid and burned in dreadful colours
 
 266 SKETCHES OF THE BAR. 
 
 in her mind. The recollection of the frightful spectacle 
 never left her. She became almost incapable of sleep ; 
 and, haunted by images of horror, used in the dead of 
 night to rise from her bed, and wander over the lonely 
 glen in which she had seen such sights; and although 
 one would have supposed that she would have instinc- 
 tively fled from the spot, she felt herself drawn by a 
 kind of attraction to the ruins of Shea's habitation, 
 where she was accustomed to remain till the morning 
 broke, and then return wild and wan to her home. She 
 stated, when examined in private previous to the trial 
 in which she gave her evidence, that she was pursued 
 by the spectre of her unfortunate kinswoman, and that 
 whenever she lay down in her bed, she thought of the 
 " burning," and felt as if Catherine Mullaly was lying 
 beside her, holding her child, "as black as a coal, in her 
 arms." At length her conscience got the better of her 
 apprehensions, and in confession she revealed her secret 
 to a priest, who prevailed upon her to give information, 
 which, after a struggle, she communicated to Captain Des- 
 pard, a justice of the peace for the county of Tipperary. 
 Such were the incidents which accompanied the per- 
 petration of a crime, than which it is difficult to imagine 
 one more enormous. To do the people justice, imme- 
 diately after the conviction and execution of William 
 Gorman, they appeared to feel the greatest horror at 
 his guilt; and of that sentiment a Roman Catholic 
 assembly, held during the assizes, afforded a strong 
 proof. The assizes had gathered an immense concourse 
 of the lower orders from all parts of the country, and 
 Mr. Sheil, conceiving that a favourable opportunity had 
 presented itself for giving a salutary admonition to the 
 people, and believing that his advice would be fully as
 
 THE BURNING OF THE SHEAS. 267 
 
 likely to produce an impression as that of Mr. Sergeant 
 Blackburne, used his influence in procuring a public 
 meeting to be summoned. A vast multitude thronged 
 to the place of assembly; and I am bestowing no sort of 
 encomium upon Mr. Sheil, when I say that his speech 
 produced a great deal of effect upon the peasantry, for 
 the bare statement of the facts which appeared in evi- 
 dence in the course of the assizes, would have been 
 sufficient to awaken deep emotions wherever the in- 
 stincts of humanity were not utterly extinguished. 
 
 As Mr. SheiFs address contained a summary of the 
 principal cases in which Sergeant Blackburne was en- 
 gaged, and he dwelt especially upon that of Matthew 
 Hogan, which was attended by many afflicting circum- 
 stances, I shall close this article by a citation from the 
 concluding passages of that gentleman's speech. 
 
 "The recollection," he continued, "of what I have 
 seen and heard during the present assizes, is enough to 
 freeze the blood. Well might Judge Burton, who is a 
 good and tender-hearted man, well might he say, with 
 tears in his eyes, that he had not in the course of his 
 judicial experience beheld so frightful a mass of enor- 
 mities as the calendar presented.* How deep a stain 
 have those misdeeds left upon the character of your 
 county, and what efforts should not be made by every 
 man of ordinary humanity, to arrest the progress of 
 villany, which is rolling in a torrent of blood, and bear- 
 ing down all the restraints of law, morality, and reli- 
 gion before it. Look, for example, at the murder of 
 the Sheas, and tell me if there be anything in the 
 
 * The judge might well have recoiled from the duties of that terrible 
 Assizes; there were three hundred and eighty cases on the calendar, 
 including many detestable crimes, as well as the butchery of the Sheas.
 
 268 SKETCHES OF THE BAR. 
 
 records of horror by which that accursed deed has been 
 excelled ! The unborn child, the little innocent who 
 had never lifted its innocent hands, or breathed the air 
 of heaven the little child in its mother's womb .... 
 I do not wonder that the tears which flow down the 
 cheeks of many a rude face about me should bear attes- 
 tation to your horror of that detestable atrocity. But 
 I am wrong in saying that the child who perished in the 
 flames was not born. Its mother was delivered in the 
 midst of the flames. 
 
 " Merciful God ! Born in fire ! Sent into the world 
 in the midst of a furnace ! transferred from the womb 
 to the flames that raged round the agonies of an ex- 
 piring mother ! There are other mothers who hear me. 
 This vast assembly contains women, doomed by the 
 primeval malediction to the groans of child-birth, which 
 cannot be suppressed on the bed of down, into which 
 the rack of maternal agony still finds its way. But say, 
 you who know it best, you who are of the same sex as 
 Catherine Mullaly, what must have been the throes with 
 which she brought forth her unfortunate offspring, and 
 felt her infant consumed by the fires with which she was 
 surrounded ! We can but lift up our hands to the God 
 of Justice, and ask him why has he invested us with the 
 same forms as the demons who perpetrated that unex- 
 ampled murder ! And why did they commit it ? by 
 virtue of a horrible league by which they were asso- 
 ciated together, not only against their enemy, but 
 against human nature and the God who made it ; for 
 they were bound together they were sworn in the 
 name of their Creator, and they invoked Heaven to 
 sanctify a deed which they were confederated to perpe- 
 trate by a sacrament of Hell.
 
 THE BURNING OF THE SHEAS. 269 
 
 " Although accompanied by circumstances of inferior 
 terror, the recent assassination of Barry belongs to the 
 same class of guilt. A body of men at the close of 
 day enters a peaceful habitation, on the Sabbath, and 
 regardless of the cry of a frantic woman, who, grasping 
 one of the murderers, desired him 'to think of God, 
 and of the blessed night, and to spare the father of her 
 eight children" dragged him forth, and when he 
 'offered to give up the ground, tilled or untilled, if 
 they gave him his life/ answered him with a yell of 
 ferocious irony, and telling him 'he should have 
 ground enough/ plunged their bayonets into his heart! 
 An awful spectacle was presented on the trial of the 
 wretched men who were convicted of the assassination. 
 At one extremity of the bar there stood a boy, with a 
 blooming face and with down on his cheek, and at the 
 other an old man in the close of life, with a wild hag- 
 gard look, a deeply-furrowed countenance, and a head 
 covered with hoary and dishevelled hair. In describing 
 the frightful scene it is consoling to find that you share 
 with me in the unqualified detestation which I have 
 expressed ; and, indeed, I am convinced that it is un- 
 necessary to address to you any observation on the 
 subject. 
 
 "But, my good friends, I must call your attention 
 to another trial, I mean that of the Hogans, which 
 affords a melancholy lesson. That trial was connected 
 with the insane practice which exists amongst you, of 
 avenging the accidental affronts offered to individuals, 
 by enlisting whole clans in the quarrel and waging an 
 actual war, which is carried on by sanguinary battles. 
 I am very far from saying that the deaths which occur 
 in these barbarous feuds are to be compared with the
 
 270 
 
 guilt of preconcerted assassination, but that they are 
 accompanied with deep criminality there can be no 
 question ; the system, too, which produces them, is as 
 much marked with absurdity as it is deserving of con- 
 demnation. In this county, if a man chances to 
 receive a blow, instead of going to a magistrate to 
 swear informations, he lodges a complaint with his 
 clau, which enters into a compact to avenge the insult 
 a reaction is produced, and an. equally extensive 
 confederacy is formed on the other side. 
 
 " All this results from an indisposition to resort to 
 the law for protection ; for amongst you it is a point of 
 honour to avoid magistrates, and to reject all the ligi- 
 timate means provided for your redress. The battle 
 fought between the Hickeys and the Hogans, in which 
 not less than five hundred men were engaged, presents 
 in a strong light the consequences of this most strange 
 and preposterous system. Some of the Hickey party 
 were slain in the field, and four of the Hogans were 
 tried for their murder; they were found guilty of man- 
 slaughter three of them are married and have families, 
 and from their wives and children are condemned to 
 separate for ever. In my mind, these unhappy men 
 have been doomed to a fate still more disastrous than 
 those who have perished on the scaffold. In the 
 calamity which has befallen Matthew Hogan every 
 man in court felt a sympathy. With the exception 
 of his having made himself a party in the cause of his 
 clan, he has always conducted himself with propriety. 
 His landlord felt for him not only an interest, but a 
 strong regard, and exerted himself to the utmost in his 
 behalf. He never took a part in deeds of nocturnal 
 villany. He does not bear the dagger and the torch ;
 
 THE BURNING OP THE SHEAS. 271 
 
 honest, industrious, and of a mild and kindly nature, 
 he enjoyed the good will of every man who was ac- 
 quainted with him. His circumstances in the world 
 were not only comparatively good, but, when taken in 
 reference to his condition in society, were almost 
 opulent ; and he rather resembled an English yeoman 
 than an Irish peasant. 
 
 " His appearance at the bar was in a high degree 
 moving and impressive tall, athletic, and even noble 
 in his stature, with a face finely formed, and wholly 
 free from any ferocity of expression, he attracted every 
 eye, and excited, even among his prosecutors, a feeling 
 of commiseration. He formed a remarkable contrast 
 with the ordinary class of culprits who are arraigned in 
 our public tribunals. So far from having guilt and 
 depravity stamped upon him, the prevailing character 
 of his countenance was indicative of gentleness and 
 humanity. This man was convicted of manslaughter ; 
 and when he heard the sentence of transportation for 
 life, all colour fled from his cheek, his lips became 
 dry and ashy, his hand shook, and his eyes were the 
 more painful to look at from their being incapable of 
 tears. 
 
 "Most of you consider transportation a light evil, 
 and so it is, to those who have no ties to fasten them 
 to their country. I can well imagine that a deporta- 
 tion from this island, which for most of its inhabitants 
 is a miserable one, is to many a change greatly for the 
 better. Although it is, to a certain extent, painful to 
 be torn from the place with which our first recollec- 
 tions are associated, and the Irish people have strong 
 local attachments, and are fond of the place of their
 
 272 SKETCHES OF THE BAR. 
 
 birth, and of their fathers' graves; yet the fine sky, 
 the genial climate, and the deep and abundant soil of 
 New Holland, afford many compensations. But there 
 can be none for Matthew Hogan ; he is in the prime 
 of life, was a prosperous farmer ; he has a young and 
 amiable wife, who has borne him children ; but, alas ! 
 
 " Nor wife nor children more shall he behold, 
 Nor friends, nor sacred home." 
 
 He must leave his country for ever he must part from 
 all that he loves, and from all by whom he is beloved, 
 and liis heart will burst in the separation. On Monday 
 next he will see his family for the last time. What a 
 victim "do you behold, in that unfortunate man, of the 
 spirit of turbulence which rages amongst you ! 
 
 " Matthew Hogan will feel his misfortune with more 
 deep intensity, because he is naturally a sensitive- and 
 susceptible man. He was proved to have saved the 
 life of one of his antagonists in the very hottest fury 
 of the combat, from motives of generous commisera- 
 tion. One of his own kindred, in speaking to me of 
 his fate, said, 'he would feel it the more because (to 
 use the poor man's vernacular pronunciation) he was 
 so tinder.' This unhappy sensibility will produce a 
 more painful laceration of the heart than others would 
 experience, when he bids his infants and their mother 
 farewell for ever. The prison of this town will present 
 on Monday next a very afflicting spectacle. Before 
 he ascends the vehicle which is to convey him for 
 transportation to Cork, he will be allowed to take leave 
 of his family. His wife will cling with a breaking
 
 THE BURNING OF THE SHEAS. 273 
 
 heart to his bosom; and while her arms are folded 
 round his neck, while she sobs in the agony of a vir- 
 tuous anguish on his breast, his children, who used to 
 climb his knees in playful emulation for his caresses, 
 his little orphans, for they are doomed to orphanage 
 in their father's life- time 
 
 " I will not go on with this distressing picture ; your 
 own emotions (for there are many fathers and hus- 
 bands here) will complete it. But the sufferings of 
 poor Hogan will not end at the threshold of his prison; 
 he will be conveyed, in a vessel freighted with afflic- 
 tion, across the ocean, and will be set on the lonely 
 and distant land, from which he will return no more. 
 Others, who will have accompanied him, will soon 
 forget their country, and devote themselves to those 
 useful and active pursuits for which the colony affords 
 a field, and which will render them happier, by making 
 them better men. But the thoughts of home will still 
 press upon the mind of Matthew Hogan, and adhere 
 with a deadly tenacity to his heart. He will mope about, 
 in the vacant heedlessness of deep and settled sorrow; 
 he will have no incentive to exertion, for he will have 
 bidden farewell to hope. The instruments of labour 
 will hang idly in his hands; he will go through his 
 task without a consciousness of what he is doing ; or, 
 if he thinks at all, while he turns up the earth, he will 
 think of the little garden beside his native cottage, 
 which it was more a delight than a toil to till. Thus 
 his day will go by, and at its close his only consolation 
 will be to stand on the sea-shore, and fixing his eyes 
 in that direction in which he will have been taught 
 that his country lies, if not in the language, he will 
 
 VOL. I. T
 
 274 . SKETCHES OF THE BAR. 
 
 at least exclaim in the sentiments which have been 
 so simply and so pathetically expressed in the Song of 
 Exile: 
 
 " * Erin, my country ! though sad and forsaken 
 
 In dreams I revisit thy sea-heaten shore ; 
 But, alas ! in a far foreign land I awaken, 
 
 And sigh for the friends that can meet me no more. 
 Where is my cabin door, fast by the wild wood ? 
 
 Sisters and sire, did you weep for its fall ? 
 Where is the mother that look'd on my childhood ? 
 
 And where is the bosom-friend, dearer than all ?' "* 
 
 * Campbell's " Exile of Erin."
 
 275 
 
 FAREWELL OF LORD MANNERS. 
 
 [FEBRUARY, 1828.] 
 
 ON the 31st day of July, in the year of our Lord 
 1827, Lord Manners, the late Keeper of His Majesty's 
 Irish Conscience, bade the Irish Bar farewell. The 
 scene which took place upon that melancholy occasion 
 deserves to be recorded. It being understood that an 
 address of professional condolence on behalf of the more 
 loyal portion of the Bar was to be pronounced by 
 that tender enunciator of pathetic sentiment, the 
 Attorney General,* the Court of Chancery was crowded 
 at an early hour. The members of the Beef- Steak 
 Club, with countenances in which it was difficult to 
 determine whether their grief at the anticipated " ex- 
 port" from Ireland, or the traces of their multitudinous 
 convivialities, enjoyed a predominance, filled the gal- 
 leries on either side.f The junior aristocracy of the 
 bar, for whom the circuits have few attractions, occu- 
 
 * Mr. Joy, the subject of a previous sketch. 
 
 f The Beefsteak Club was a musical institution in Dublin, which has 
 ceased to exist j if we should not rather say that it still lives in the im- 
 proved form of the Catch Club, a society all the more harmonious and 
 festive for the exclusion of politics from its meetings. 
 
 T 2
 
 276 SKETCHES OF THE BAR. 
 
 pied the body of the court, while the multitude of 
 King's Counsel, in whom His Majesty scarcely finds a 
 verification of the divine saying of Solomon, were 
 arrayed along the benches, where it is their prerogative 
 to sit, in the enjoyment of that leisure which the public 
 so unfrequently disturb. 
 
 The assembly looked exceedingly dejected and blank. 
 A competition in sorrow appeared to have been got up 
 between the rival admirers of his Lordship, the Pharisees 
 of Leeson Street and the Sadducees of the Beef-Steak 
 Club.* "The Saints," however, from their habitual 
 longitude of visage, and the natural alliance between 
 their lugubrious devotion and despair, had a decided 
 advantage over the statesmen of revelry and the legis- 
 lators of song ; and it was admitted on all hands, that 
 Mr. M'Caskey should yield the palm of condolence to a 
 certain pious Serjeant, into whom the whole spirit of 
 the prophet Jeremy appeared to have been infused. 
 
 But the person most deserving of attention was Mr. 
 Saurin. Lord Manners had been his intimate associate 
 for twenty years. He had, upon his Lordship's first 
 arrival in Ireland, pre-occupied his mind; he took 
 advantage of his opportunities of access, and, having 
 crept like an earwig into his audience, he at last effected 
 a complete lodgment in his mind. Mr. Saurin estab- 
 lished a masterdom over his faculties, and gave to all 
 his passions the direction of his own. A very close 
 
 * Leeson Street is the street mentioned in another place, as bearing 
 the soubriquet of Swaddling-bar, in consequence of the congregation of 
 puritanical lawyers resident in it. Bayle has remarked that there is no 
 instance on record of an attorney being a saint ; he does not extend the 
 remark to barristers; and if he had done so, Leeson Street would have 
 refuted the assertion.
 
 FAREWELL OF LORD MANNERS. 277 
 
 intimacy grew up between them, which years of inter- 
 course cemented into regard. They were seen every 
 day walking together to the court, with that easy 
 lounge which indicated the carelessness and equality of 
 friendship.* 
 
 In one instance only had Lord Manners been wanting 
 in fidelity to his companion. He had been commis- 
 sioned to inform him, (at least, he was himself six 
 months before apprised of the intended movement,) 
 that Mr. Plunket would, in return for his services to the 
 Administration, be raised to the office of Attorney- 
 General for Ireland. Had Mr. Saurin been informed 
 of this determination, he might have acted more wisely 
 than he did, when in a fit of what his advocates have 
 been pleased to call magnanimity, but which was 
 nothing else than a paroxysm of offended arrogance, 
 he declined the Chief Justiceship of the King's Bench. 
 Lord Wellesley took him at his word, and gave him no 
 opportunity to retrace his steps. He would not, at all 
 events, have been taken unawares. Mr. Saurin is not 
 conspicuous for his tendencies to forgiveness, but he 
 pardoned the person in whose favour, of all others, a 
 barrister should make an exception from his vindictive 
 habits. Their intercourse was renewed ; and whatever 
 might have been the state of their hearts, their arms 
 continued to be linked together. This intimacy was 
 noted by the solicitors, and although deprived of his 
 official power, Mr. Saurin retained his business, and 
 
 * There was some spirited caricaturing in Ireland, a quarter of a 
 century since. It has disappeared, like other arts more to be regretted. 
 Lord Manners and Mr. Saurin were constant subjects for the comic 
 pencil. They were commonly drawn walking together and designated 
 the "Brothers-in-law."
 
 278 SKETCHES OF THE BAE. 
 
 the importance which attends it. The resignation, 
 therefore, of Lord Manners, to whose court his occu- 
 pations were confined, was accounted a personal mis- 
 fortune to himself. 
 
 From the peculiar circumstances in which he was 
 placed, he drew the general notice in the scene of sepa- 
 ration, and was an object of interest to those, who, 
 without any political sympathy or aversion, are observers 
 of feeling, and students of the human heart. In justice 
 to him it should be stated, that his bearing did not 
 greatly deviate from his ordinary demeanour, and that 
 he still looked the character which he had been for 
 some time playing, if not with profit, yet not without 
 applause, as the stoic of Orangeism, and the Cato of 
 " a falling state." Not that he appeared altogether 
 insensible, but, in his sympathies, his own calamities 
 did not seem to have any very ostensible share : any 
 expression of a melancholy kind, that was perceivable 
 through his dark and Huguenot complexion, seemed to 
 arise more immediately from the pains of friendship, 
 than from any sentiment in more direct connexion with 
 himself. 
 
 I cannot avoid thinking, however, that his mind 
 must have been full of scorpion recollections : there 
 was, at least, one incident which must have deeply 
 stung him. Had the address to Lord Manners been 
 pronounced by Mr. Plunket, Mr. Saurin might liave 
 been reconciled to the representation of the bar, in 
 the person of a man, who had long approved himself 
 his superior. But to see his own proselyte holding the 
 place to which he had acquired a sort of prescriptive 
 right, and to witness hi Henry Joy the Attorney- 
 General to a Whig Administration, while he was him-
 
 FAREWELL OF LORD MANNERS. 279 
 
 self without distinction or office, was, I ani sure, a 
 source of corrosive feeling, and must have pained him 
 to the core. It would, however, have been a misfor- 
 tune for the lovers of ridicule, if any man, except Mr. 
 Joy, had pronounced the address, which was delivered 
 to the departing Chancellor. He is a great master of 
 mockery, and looks a realization of Goethe's Mephisto- 
 philes. So strong is his addiction to that species of 
 satire, which is contained in exaggerated praise, that 
 he scarcely ever resorts to any other species of vitu- 
 peration. 
 
 Nature has been singularly favourable to him. His 
 short and upturned nose is admirably calculated to toss 
 his sarcasms off : his piercing and peering eyes gleam 
 and flash in the voluptuousness of malice, and exhibit 
 the keen delight with which he revels in ridicule and 
 luxuriates in derision. His chin is. protruded, like that 
 of the Cynic listening to St. Paul, in Raphael's Car- 
 toon : his muscles are full of flexibility, and are capable 
 of adapting themselves to every modification of irony. 
 They have the advantage, too, of being covered with a 
 skin that dimples into sneers with a plastic facility, and 
 looks like a manuscript of Juvenal found in the ashy 
 libraries of Herculaneum. In this eminent advocate 
 such an assemblage of physiognomical qualifications for 
 irony are united, as I scarcely think the countenance 
 of any orator in the ancient city of Sardos could have 
 presented.* His face was an admirable commentary 
 
 * Where did Mr. Shiel find this ancient city ? 2ap?<i was the Greek 
 name of the island of Sardinia, to which it has been the fashion of gram- 
 marians and lexicographers to trace the origin of the phrase "risus 
 Sardonicus." As it is a favourite phrase with Mr. Shiel, and frequently 
 occurs in these papers, we shall quote what Dr. Smith says on the
 
 280 SKETCHES OF THE BAR. 
 
 on the enormity of the encomium which he was deputed 
 to offer. The "Evening Mail/' indeed, the official 
 organ of the Orange party in Ireland, gave a some- 
 what different account of this amusing exhibition. 
 " Every sound," said that graphic journalist, " was 
 hushed, while the Attorney- General, with a tremulous 
 voice, but with a feeling and emphasis which showed 
 that the sentiments expressed came directly from his 
 
 heart " and so forth. 
 
 Then follows the address. I forbear from setting forth 
 the whole of it, but select a single sentence : " We," 
 said Mr. Joy, "cannot but admire that distinguished 
 ability, that strict impartiality, and that unremitting 
 assiduity, with which you have discharged the various 
 duties of your office." The delivery of this sentence 
 was a masterpiece of sarcastic recitation; and, to any 
 person who desired to become a proficient in the art of 
 sneering, of which Mr. Joy is so renowned a professor, 
 afforded an invaluable model. Cicero, in his oratorical 
 treatise, has given an analysis of the manner in which 
 certain fine fragments of eloquence have been delivered; 
 and, for the benefit of the students of irony, it may not 
 be improper to enter with some minuteness into a detail 
 of the varieties of excellence with which Mr. Joy pro- 
 subject. " Among the products of the island one of the most cele- 
 brated was the Sardonica herba, a poisonous plant, said to produce fatal 
 convulsions in the person who ate of it. These convulsions agitated and 
 distorted the mouth, so that the person appeared to laugh ; hence the 
 risus Sardonicua. "No plant possessing these properties is found at 
 present in Sardinia, and it is not impossible that the whole tale may 
 have arisen from a piece of bad etymology, since we find mention in 
 Homer (the Odyssey) of the apavioc yfXwc, which cannot have any 
 reference to Sardinia, but is probably connected with the verb oaipuv, 
 to grin." Dr. Smith's Classical Dictionary, art. Sardinia.
 
 FAREWELL OP LORD MANNERS. 281 
 
 nounced this panegyric. With this view, I shall take 
 each limb of the sentence apart. "We cannot but 
 admire:" In uttering these words, he gave his head 
 that slight shake, with which he generally announces 
 that he is about to let loose some formidable sarcasm. 
 He paused at the same time, as if he felt a qualm of 
 conscience at what he was about to speak, and expe- 
 rienced a momentary commiseration for the victim of 
 his cruel commendations. 
 
 This feeling of compassion, however, only lasted for 
 an instant, and he assumed the aspect that became the 
 utterance of the vituperative adulation which he had 
 undertaken to inflict. "We cannot but admire the 
 distinguished ability :" At the word "ability" it was 
 easy to perceive, that he could with difficulty restrain 
 his sense of extravagance from breaking into laughter. 
 However, he did succeed in keeping down the spirit of 
 ridicule within the just boundaries of derision. At the 
 same time he conveyed to his auditors (the Chancellor 
 excepted) the whole train of thought that was passing 
 in his mind; and by the magic of his countenance re- 
 called a series of amusing recollections. It was impos- 
 sible to look at him without remembering the exhibitions 
 which for twenty years had made the administration of 
 justice in the Irish Court of Chancery the subject of 
 Lord Redesdale's laughter, and of John Lord Eldon's 
 tears. He spoke it with such a force of mockery, that 
 he at once brought to the mind of the spectators that 
 spirit of ignorant self-sufficiency, and presumptuous 
 precipitation, with which Lord Manners discharged the 
 business of his court. 
 
 A hundred cases seemed to rise in his face. "Stack-
 
 282 SKETCHES OF THE BAR. 
 
 poole and Stackpoole " appeared in the curl of his lip ; 
 " Blake and Foster " quivered in the movement of his 
 nostrils ; "Brossley against the Corporation of Dublin" 
 appeared in his twinkling eyes ; and "reversal" seemed 
 to be written in large characters between his brows. 
 The next sarcasm which this unmerciful adulator pro- 
 ceeded to apply, turned on his lordship's selection of 
 magistrates. At the utterance of "strict impartiality," 
 the smile of Mr. Joy gleamed with a still yellower 
 lustre over his features, and he threw his countenance 
 into so expressive a grimace, that the whole loyal but 
 pauper magistracy of Ireland was brought at once to 
 my view. I beheld a long array of insolvent justices 
 with their arms out at the elbows, who had been 
 honoured, by virtue of their Protestantism, with His 
 Majesty's commission of the peace. I did not think it 
 possible for the powers of irony to go beyond this last 
 achievement of the Attorney- General, until he came to 
 talk of his lordship's unremitting assiduity. It was 
 well known to every man at the bar, that Lord Manners 
 abhorred his occupations. He trembled at an enthy- 
 mem, he sunk under a sorites, and was gored by the 
 horns of a dilemma. His irritability in court was the 
 subject of universal complaint. He seemed to labour 
 under an incapacity of fixing his attention for any con- 
 tinuity of time to any given matter of meditation ; and 
 by his wriggling in his seat during the admirable argu- 
 ments of Mr. Pennefather, and his averted eye, and the 
 puffing of his cheeks, exhibited his strong distaste for 
 reasoning, and the horror which he entertained for all 
 inductive thought. 
 
 It was in frosty weather that his excitability and fret-
 
 FAREWELL OF LORD MANNERS. 283 
 
 fulness of temperament were particularly conspicuous. 
 He was fond of shooting, and if he was detained by a 
 long argument beyond the usual period which he 
 allowed to the hearing of causes, about Christmas, he 
 broke out into fits and starts of ludicrous irritation. 
 Mr. Plunket used to say that whenever Lord Manners 
 heard the name of Mr. Hitchcock, (a gentleman of the 
 Irish Bar of considerable talents,) his Lordship used to 
 start, as if it were " Hish ! Cock !" that had struck his 
 ear. The memory of the Attorney- General, in compli- 
 menting him on his "unremitting assiduity," was, I am 
 sure, carried back to those scenes of judicial impatience, 
 in which, when the mercury stood at the freezing-point, 
 his lordship's intolerance of all argument was exem- 
 plified. The look with which Mr. Joy executed the 
 recitation of this portion of his address, was, if possible, 
 a higher feat. It was the chef-d'oeuvre of mockery, 
 and masterpiece of derision. His eyes, his brows, his 
 nose and chin but I will not undertake to describe 
 him enough to say, that such was the potency of his 
 sarcasm, that I was transported in fancy to the Duke of 
 Leinster's demesne at Carton, where his lordship used 
 to shoot, and I beheld him amidst those brambles of 
 which he was much fonder than the thorny quicksets of 
 the law, with his Chancellor hat, a green jacket, a 
 scarlet waistcoat, silk breeches, and long black gaiters, 
 which constituted his usual sporting attire.* 
 
 * The bat Lord Manners commonly wore had a strong likeness to 
 that of a great dignitary of the Church. As part of a sporting costume, 
 it must have been grotesque, and suggestive of irreverent ideas. His 
 Lordship's successors in the Chancellorship have not thought fit to 
 adopt his bat.
 
 284 SKETCHES OF THE BAR. 
 
 I was, however, recalled from this excursion of the 
 imagination, by the farewell address of his lordship to 
 the Bar. The Attorney. General had concluded, and 
 Lord Manners rose to bid it a long adieu. It did him 
 great credit that he did not follow the example of Lord 
 Redesdale, who wept and whimpered upon his taking 
 leave of Ireland and ten thousand a year. Lord 
 Manners had the materials of consolation in his pocket, 
 having received about two hundred thousand pounds of 
 the public money, for "the distinguished ability, the 
 strict impartiality, and unremitting assiduity," of which 
 Mr. Joy had performed the panegyric. So far from 
 indulging in any lachrymatory mood, his lordship proved 
 himself a partisan to the last, by giving vent to his 
 factious antipathies against the Solicitor-General. He 
 had strenuously resisted the nomination of Mr. Doherty 
 to the office, for which his talents as a speaker, both in 
 parliament and at the bar, had eminently qualified him. 
 There was not an individual of the profession who did 
 not feel convinced that Lord Manners was actuated by 
 an hostility arising from political motives, founded 
 upon Mr. Doherty's support of Catholic Emancipation. 
 Nearly the last sentence in his address is copied from 
 the " Evening Mail." " If," said his lordship, " I have 
 disappointed or delayed the expectations of any gentle- 
 man at the bar, I lament it. I can assure you, gentle- 
 men, I have not been actuated by a personal motive, or 
 hostile feeling against him, but by a sense of duty im- 
 posed on me, in the situation in which I am placed, to 
 protect the fair claims of the bar, by resisting, to the 
 utmost of my power, the interference of parliamentary 
 or political interest in the advancements in the law.
 
 FAREWELL OF LORD MANNERS. 285 
 
 It is obvious that under the veil of affected regret 
 which Lord Manners states himself to have felt at 
 having, with a view to the promotion of Sergeant 
 Lefroy, opposed the wishes of Mr. Canning and the 
 directions of the Cabinet, there lurks in the intimation 
 that his lordship had opposed the interference of parlia- 
 mentary and political interest, a reflection upon Mr. 
 Doherty, of which good feeling, as well as a sense of 
 justice, should have forbidden the expression. This 
 Parthian arrow should not have been discharged at such 
 a moment. It was not a time for the indulgence of 
 acrimonious feelings. 
 
 But independently of the rancour which is conveyed 
 in this reference to Mr. Doherty, it is surprising that 
 such a want of ordinary discretion should have been 
 manifested by an individual who was himself so ob- 
 noxious to the unkind observation with which, at 
 parting, he wantonly aspersed the advancement of a 
 member of the bar. Lord Manners had objected to 
 Mr. Doherty upon the ground of his juniority. He 
 was not himself of as long standing at the English Bar 
 when he was created Solicitor- General. Mr. Doherty 
 was at the head of his circuit, where he had evinced as 
 high qualifications as a speaker as any gentleman in the 
 whole profession. Lord Manners was unemployed at 
 the bar, except when he got a brief from his brother-in- 
 law, a solicitor of Lincoln's Inn. Lord Manners' ob- 
 jection to the exercise of parliamentary or political 
 interest, seems to be equally strange. What but the 
 power of the house of Rutland could ever have raised a 
 man of his feeble understanding and slight acquire- 
 ments, to the office of Lord Chancellor of Ireland, to
 
 286 
 
 the discharge of whose duties he was so utterly incom- 
 petent, that his able and erudite successor can scarcely v 
 refrain from expressing astonishment at the spirit of 
 blunder in which almost every one of Lord Manners' 
 orders, which came before him for revision, is con- 
 ceived ?* 
 
 * Lord Manners was succeeded by Sir Anthony Hart, who gave great 
 satisfaction both to the bar and the public during his short chancellorship.
 
 287 
 
 THE MURDER OF HOLY CROSS. 
 
 [JTTLT, 1828.] 
 
 THE delineation of the leading members of the Irish 
 Bar is not the only object of these sketches. It is my 
 purpose to describe the striking scenes, and to record 
 the remarkable incidents which fall within my own 
 forensic observation. That these incidents and scenes 
 should take place in our courts of justice, affords a 
 sufficient justification for making the " Sketches of the 
 Irish Bar" the medium of their narration. I might 
 also suggest, that the character of the Bar itself is 
 more or less influenced by the nature of the business 
 in which it is engaged. The mind of any man who 
 habitually attends the assizes of Clonmel carries deep, 
 and not perhaps the least useful, impressions away from 
 it. How often have I reproached myself with having 
 joined in the boisterous merriment which either the jests 
 of counsel, or the droll perjuries of the witnesses, have 
 produced during the trial of a capital offence ! How 
 often have I seen the bench, the jury, the bar, and the gal-
 
 288 SKETCHES OF THE BAR. 
 
 lerics of an Irish court of justice, in a roar of tumultu- 
 ous laughter, while I beheld in the dock the wild and 
 haggard face of a wretch who, placed on the verge of 
 eternity, seemed to be surveying the gulf on the brink 
 of which he stood, and presented, in his ghastly aspect 
 and motionless demeanour, a reproof of the spirit of 
 hilarity with which he was to be sent before his God ! 
 
 It is not that there is any kind of cruelty intermixed 
 with this tendency to mirth ; but that the perpetual 
 recurrence of incidents of the most awful character 
 divests them of the power of producing effect, and 
 
 that they 
 
 "Whose fall of hair 
 
 Would at a dismal treatise rouse and stir 
 As life were in't," 
 
 acquire such a familiarity with direness, that they be- 
 come not only insensible to the dreadful nature of the 
 spectacles which are presented, but scarcely conscious 
 of them. But it is not merely because the Bar itself 
 is under the operation of the incidents which furnish 
 the materials of their professional occupation, that I have 
 selected the last assizes of Clonmel as the subject of this 
 article. In narrating the events which attended the 
 murder of Daniel Mara, and the trial of his assassins, I 
 propose to myself the useful end of fixing the general 
 attention upon a state of things, which ought to lead all 
 wise and good men to the consideration of the only 
 effectual means by which the evils which result from 
 the moral condition of the country may be remedied. 
 
 In the month of April, 1827, a gentleman of the 
 name of Chadwick was murdered in open day, at a 
 place called Rath Cannon, in the immediate vicinity of
 
 THE MURDER OF HOLYCROSS. 289 
 
 the old Abbey of Holycross. Mr. Chadwick was the 
 member of an influential family, and was employed as 
 land agent in collecting their rents. The person who 
 fills this office in England is called a steward; but 
 in Ireland it is designated by the more honourable 
 name of a land agency. The discharge of the duties 
 of this situation must be always more or less obnoxious. 
 In times of public distress, the landlord, who is him- 
 self urged by his own creditors, urges his agent on, 
 and the latter inflicts upon the tenants the necessities 
 of his employer. I have heard that Mr. Chadwick was 
 not peculiarly rigorous in the exaction of rent, but he 
 was singularly injudicious in his demeanour towards the 
 lower orders. He believed that they detested him ; 
 and possessing personal courage, bade them defiance. 
 He was not a man of a bad heart ; but was despotic 
 and contumelious in his manners to those whose hatred 
 he returned with contempt. It is said that he used to 
 stand amongst a body of the peasantry, and, observing 
 that his corpulency was on the increase, was accustomed 
 to exclaim, " I think I am fattening upon your 
 curses \" 
 
 In answer to these taunts, the peasants who sur- 
 rounded him, and who were well habituated to the con- 
 cealment of their fierce and terrible passions, affected 
 to laugh, and said " that his honour was mighty plea- 
 sant ; and sure, his honour, God bless him, was always 
 fond of his joke!" But while they indulged in the 
 sycophancy under which they are wont to smother their 
 sanguinary detestations, they were lying in wait for the 
 occasion of revenge. Perhaps, however, they would 
 not have proceeded to the extremities to which they 
 had recourse, but for a determination evinced by Mr. 
 
 VOL. i. u
 
 290 SKETCHES OF THE BAR. 
 
 Cliadwick to take effectual means for keeping them in 
 awe. He set about building a police barrack at Rath 
 Cannon. It was resolved that Mr. jChadwick should 
 die. This decision was not the result of individual 
 vengeance. The wide confederacy into which the 
 lower orders are organised in Tipperary held council 
 upon him, and the village Areopagus pronounced his 
 sentence. 
 
 It remained to find an executioner. Patrick Grace, 
 who was almost a boy, but was distinguished by various 
 feats of guilty courage, offered himself as a volunteer 
 in what was regarded by him as an honourable cause. 
 He had set up in the county as a sort of knight-errant 
 against landlords ; and, in the spirit of a barbarous 
 chivalry, proffered his gratuitous services wherever 
 what he conceived to be a wrong was to be re-- 
 dressed. He proceeded to Rath Cannon; and without 
 adopting any sort of precaution, and while the public 
 road was traversed by numerous passengers^ in the 
 broad daylight, and just beside the barrack, in the con- 
 struction of which Mr, Chadwick was engaged, shot 
 that unfortunate gentleman, who fell instantly dead. 
 
 This dreadful crime produced a great sensation, not 
 only in the county where it was perpetrated, but through 
 the whole of Ireland. When it was announced in 
 Dublin, it created a sort of dismay, as it evinced the 
 spirit of atrocious intrepidity to which the peasantry 
 had been roused. It was justly accounted, by those 
 who looked upon this savage assassination with most 
 horror, as furnishing evidence of the moral condition 
 of the people, and aa intimating the consequences 
 which might be anticipated from the ferocity of the 
 paasantry, if ever they should be let loose. Patrick
 
 THE MURDER OP HOLYCR09S. 291 
 
 Grace calculated on impunity; but his confidence in 
 the power and terrors of the confederacy with which he 
 was associated was mistaken. A brave, and a religious 
 man, whose name was Philip Mara, was present at the 
 murder. He was standing beside his employer, Mr. 
 Chadwick, and saw Grace put him deliberately to death. 
 Grace was well aware that Mara had seen him, but did 
 not believe that he would dare to give evidence against 
 him. It is probable, too, that he conjectured that 
 Mara coincided with him in his ethics of assassination, 
 and applauded the proceeding. Mara, however, who 
 was a moral and virtuous man, was horror-struck by 
 what he had beheld; and under the influence of con- 
 scientious feelings, gave immediate information to a 
 magistrate. Patrick Grace was arrested, and tried at 
 the Summer Assizes of 1827. 
 
 I was not present at his trial, but have heard from 
 good authority that he displayed a fearless demeanour; 
 and that when he was convicted upon the evidence of 
 Philip Mara, he declared that before a year should go 
 by he should have vengeance in the grave. He was 
 ordered to be executed near the spot where his misdeed 
 had been perpetrated. This was a signal mistake, and 
 produced an effect exactly the reverse of what was 
 contemplated. The lower orders looked upon him as a 
 martyr; and his deportment, personal beauty, and un- 
 daunted courage, rendered him an object 'of deep 
 interest and sympathy upon the scaffold. He was 
 attended by a body of troops to the old Abbey of Holy- 
 cross, where not less that fifteen thousand people 
 assembled to behold him. 
 
 The site of the execution rendered the spectacle a 
 most striking one. The Abbey of Holycross is the 
 
 u 2
 
 292 THE SKETCHES OF THE BAR. 
 
 finest and most venerable monastic ruin in Ireland. 
 Most travellers turn from their way to survey it, and 
 leave it with a deep impression of its solemnity and 
 grandeur. A vast multitude was assembled round the 
 the scaffold. The prisoner was brought forward in the 
 midst of the profound silence of the people. He 
 ascended and surveyed them; and looked upon the 
 ruins of the edifice which had once been dedicated to 
 the worship of his religion, and to the sepulchres of 
 the dead which were strewed among its aisles, and had 
 been for ages as he was in a few minutes about to be. It 
 was not known whether he would call for vengeance from 
 his survivors, or for mercy from heaven. His kindred, 
 his close friends, his early companions, all that he loved 
 and all to whom he was dear, were around him, and 
 nothing, except an universal sob from his female rela- 
 tives, disturbed the awful taciturnity that prevailed. 
 At the side of Patrick Grace stood the priest the mild 
 admonitor of the heart, the soother of affliction, and 
 the preceptor of forgiveness, who attended him in the 
 last office of humanity, and who proved by the result 
 how well he had performed it. To the disappointment 
 of the people, Patrick Grace expressed himself pro- 
 foundly contrite ; and, although he evinced no fear of 
 death, at the instance of the Roman Catholic clergy- 
 man who attended him, implored the people to take 
 warning by his example. In a few moments after he 
 left existence. But the effect of his execution will be 
 estimated by this remarkable incident. His gloves were 
 handed by one of his relations to an old man of the 
 name of John Russel, as a keepsake. Russel drew 
 them on, and declared at the same time, that he should 
 wear them " till Paddy Grace was revenged :" and
 
 THE MURDER OF HOLYCROSS. 293 
 
 revenged he soon afterwards was, within the time which 
 he had himself prescribed for retribution, and in a 
 manner which is as much calculated to excite astonish- 
 ment at the strangeness, as detestation for the atrocity 
 of the crime, of which I proceed to narrate the details. 
 
 Philip Mara was removed by Government from the 
 country. It was perfectly obvious, that if he had con- 
 tinued to sojourn in Tipperary, his life would have been 
 taken speedily, and at all hazards, away. It was 
 decided that all his kindred should be exterminated. 
 He had three brothers; and the bare consanguinity 
 with a traitor (for his crime was treason) was regarded 
 as a sufficient offence to justify their immolation. If 
 they could not procure his own blood for the purposes 
 of sacrifice, it was however something to make libation 
 of that which flowed from the same source, 
 
 The crimes of the Irish are derived from the same 
 origin as their virtues. They have powerful domestic 
 attachments. Their love and devotion to their kindred 
 instruct them in the worst expedients of atrocity. 
 Knowing the affection which Mara had for his brothers, 
 they found the way to his heart in the kindest instincts 
 of humanity ; and from the consciousness of the pain 
 which the murder of " his mother's children" would 
 inflict, determined that he should endure it. It must 
 be owned, that there is a dreadful policy in this system. 
 The Government may withdraw their witnesses from 
 the country and afford them protection; but their 
 wives, their offspring, their parents, their brothers, sis- 
 ters, nay their remotest relatives, cannot be secure, and 
 the vengeance of the ferocious peasantry, if defrauded 
 of its more immediate and natural objects, will satiate 
 itself with some other victim. It was in conformity
 
 294 SKETCHES OP THE BAE. 
 
 with these atrocious principles of revenge that the 
 murder of the brothers of Philip Mara was resolved 
 upon. 
 
 Strange to tell, the whole body of the peasantry in 
 the neighbourhood of Rath Cannon, and far beyond 
 it, entered into a league, for the perpetration of this 
 abominable crime j and while the individuals who were 
 marked out for massacre were unconscious of what was 
 going forward, scarcely a man, woman, or child looked 
 them in the face, who did not know that they were 
 marked out for death. They were masons by trade, and 
 were employed in building the barrack at Rath Cannon, 
 on the spot where Chadwick had been assassinated, and 
 where the funeral of Patrick Grace (for so his execu- 
 tion was called) had been performed. The peasantry 
 looked in all probability with an evil eye upon every 
 man who had put his hand to this obnoxious work ; but 
 their main object was the extermination of Philip 
 Mara's brothers. They were three in number Daniel, 
 Laurence, and Timothy. On the first of October they 
 were at work, with an apprentice in the mason trade, at 
 the barrack at Rath Cannon. The name of this appren- 
 tice was Hickey. In the evening, about five o' clock, 
 they left off their work, and were returning homewards, 
 when eight men with arms rushed upon them. They 
 were fired at, but the fire-arms of the assassins were 
 in such bad condition, that the discharge of their rude 
 musketry had no effect. 
 
 Laurence, Timothy, and the apprentice, fled in dif- 
 ferent directions and escaped. Daniel Mara lost his 
 presence of mind, and instead of taking the same route 
 as the others, ran into the house of a poor widow. He 
 was pursued by the murderers, one of whom got in by
 
 THE MURDER OP HOLTCROSS. 295 
 
 a small window, while the others burst through the 
 door, and with circumstances of great savageness put 
 him to death. The intelligence of this event produced 
 a still greater sensation than the murder of Chadwick; 
 and was as much the subject of comment as some great 
 political incident, fraught with national consequences, 
 in the metropolis. The Government lost no time in 
 issuing proclamations, offering a reward of 2000/. for 
 information which should bring the assassins to justice. 
 The magnitude of the sum induced a hope that its 
 temptation would be found irresistible to poverty and 
 destitution so great as that which prevails among the 
 class of ordinary malefactors. It was well known that 
 hundreds had cognizance of the offence; and it was 
 concluded that, amongst so numerous a body, the tender 
 of so large a reward could not fail to offer an effectual 
 allurement. Weeks, however, passed over without the 
 communication of intelligence of any kind. Several 
 persons were arrested on suspicion, but were afterwards 
 discharged, as no more than conjecture could be 
 adduced against them. 
 
 Mr. Doherty, the Solicitor General, proceeded to the 
 county of Tipperary, in order to investigate the trans- 
 action, but for a considerable time all his scrutiny was 
 without avail. At length, however, an individual, of 
 the name of Thomas Fitzgerald, was committed to gaol 
 upon a charge of highway robbery, and in order to suvc 
 his life, furnished evidence upon which the Government 
 was enabled to pierce into the mysteries of delinquency. 
 The moment Fitzgerald unsealed his lips, a numerous 
 horde of malefactors were taken up, and farther reveal- 
 inents were made under the influence which the love of
 
 296 SKETCHES OF THE BAR. 
 
 life, and not of money, exercised over their minds. The 
 assizes came on, and on Monday, the 31st of March, 
 Patrick Lacy and John "Walsh were placed at the bar, 
 and to the indictment for the murder of Daniel Mara 
 pleaded Not Guilty. 
 
 The Court presented a very imposing spectacle. The 
 whole body of the gentry of Tipperary were assembled 
 in order to witness a trial, on which the security of life 
 and property was to depend. The box which is devoted 
 to the Grand Jury was thronged with the aristocracy 
 of the county, who manifested an anxiety far stronger 
 than the trial of an ordinary culprit is accustomed to 
 produce. An immense crowd of the peasantry was 
 gathered round the dock. All appeared to feel a deep 
 interest in what was to take place, but it was easy to 
 perceive in the diversity of solicitude which was ex- 
 pressed upon their faces, the degrees of sympathy which 
 connected them with the prisoners at the bar. The 
 more immediate kindred of the malefactors were dis- 
 tinguishable by their profound but still emotion from 
 those who were engaged in the same extensive organi- 
 zation, and were actuated by a selfish sense that their 
 personal interests were at stake, without having their 
 more tender affections involved in the result. 
 
 But besides the relatives and confederates of the 
 prisoners, there was a third class amongst the spectators, 
 in which another shade of sympathy was observable. 
 These were the mass of the peasantry, who had no 
 direct concern with the transaction, but whose princi- 
 ples and habits made them well-wishers to the men 
 who had put their lives in peril for what was regarded 
 as the common cause. Through the crowd were dis-
 
 THE MURDER OF HOLYCROSS. 297 
 
 persed a number of policemen, whose green regimentals, 
 high caps, and glittering bayonets, made them conspi- 
 cuous, and brought them into contrast with the peasants, 
 by whom they were surrounded. On the table stood 
 the governor of the gaol, with his ponderous keys, 
 which designated his office, and presented to the mind 
 associations which aided the effect of the scene. Mr. 
 Justice Moore appeared in his red robes lined with 
 black, and intimated by his aspect that he anticipated 
 the discharge of a" dreadful duty.* Beside him was 
 placed the Earl of Kingston, who had come from the 
 neighbouring county of Cork to witness the trial, and 
 whose great possessions gave him a peculiar concern in 
 tracing to their sources the disturbances, which had 
 already a formidable character, and intimated still more 
 terrible results. His dark and massive countenance, 
 with a shaggy and wild profusion of hair, his bold im- 
 perious lip, and large and deeply set eye, and his huge 
 and vigorous frame, rendered him a remarkable object, 
 without reference to his high rank and station, and to 
 the political part which he had played in circumstances 
 
 The late Mr. Arthur Moore, one of the puisne Judges of the Common 
 Pleas, and formerly an active member of the Irish Parliament, where he 
 stood beside Plunket, Bushe, and the other leading talents of the Irish 
 Bar, in opposition to the Union. In the remarkable scene which took place 
 during the debate on the 5th February, 1800, when Mr. Grattan, who 
 had just been returned for the borough of Wicklow, reappeared in the 
 house, for the first time after his secession, Mr. Moore bore a part to 
 which, with a justifiable vanity, he was fond of referring in the latter 
 part of his life. Mr. Grattan is described in the memorials of the period, 
 as entering the house at a late hour, introduced by the Rt. Hon. W. B. 
 Ponsonby and Mr. Arthur Moore. He was not eminent as a lawyer, 
 but he was liberal in his opinions, and a man of the most amiable cha- 
 racter and gentle manners. He retired from the Bench, in 1839, when 
 he was made a Privy Councillor.
 
 298 SKETCHES OF THE BAB. 
 
 of which it is not impossible that he may -witness, 
 although he should desire to avert, the return.* 
 
 The prisoners at the bar stood composed and firm. 
 Lacy, the youngest, was dressed with extreme care and 
 neatness. He was a tall handsome young man, with a 
 soft and healthful colour, and a bright and tranquil eye. 
 I was struck by the unusal whiteness of his hands, which 
 were loosely attached to each other. Walsh, his fellow 
 prisoner and his brother in crime, was a stout, short, 
 and square-built man, with a sturdy look, in which 
 there was more fierceness than in Lacy's countenance ; 
 yet the latter was a far more guilty malefactor, and had 
 been engaged in numerous achievements of the same 
 kind, whereas "Walsh bore an excellent reputation, and 
 obtained from his landlord, Mr. Creagh, the highest 
 testimony to his character. 
 
 The Solicitor-General, Mr. Doherty, rose to state 
 the case. He appeared more deeply impressed than I 
 have ever seen any public officer, with the responsibility 
 which had devolved upon him ; and by his solemn and 
 emphatic manner rendered a narration, which was preg- 
 nant with awful facts, so impressive, that during a 
 speech of several hours' continuance he kept attention 
 upon the watch, and scarcely a noise was heard, except 
 when some piece of evidence was announced which sur- 
 prised the prisoners, and made them give a slight start, 
 in which their astonishment and alarm at the extent of 
 the information of the Government were expressed^ 
 
 * The Earl took a violent part on the side of the Government during 
 the Kebellion of 1798. 
 
 t The speech of Mr. Doherty was highly eloquent. He took occasion 
 to describe the general condition of the country in language equally 
 simple, powerful, and true. To the causes of that condition he did not 
 advert, for it did not fall witliin his official province to do so ; hut he
 
 THE MURDER OF HOLTCROSS. 299 
 
 They preserved their composure while Mr. Doherty was 
 detailing the evidence of Fitzgerald., for they well knew 
 that he had become what is technically called " a stag/' 
 and turned informer. Neither were they greatly moved 
 at learning that another traitor, of the name of Ryan, 
 was to be produced, for rumours had gone abroad that 
 he was to corroborate Fitzgerald. They were well 
 aware that the jury would require more evidence than 
 the coincidence of swearing between two accomplices 
 could supply. It is indeed, held that one accomplice 
 can sustain another for the purposes of conviction, and 
 that their concurrence is sufficient to warrant a verdict 
 of guilty; still juries are in the habit of demanding 
 some better foundation for their findings, and, before 
 they take life away, exact a confirmation from some 
 pure and unquestionable source. 
 
 The Counsel for the prisoners participated with them 
 
 has since, in the House of Commons, pointed oxit what he conceived to 
 be the real source of these deplorahle evils. I regret that Mr. Doherty 
 did not take the pains to publish his speeches at Clonmel. Justice has 
 not been done to the diction in the newspapers hi which they were 
 reported. The publication of those speeches in an authentic form would 
 not only evince the talents of the able advocate by whom they were 
 delivered, but would also have the effect of showing, in a striking view, 
 the xmfairness of not allowing the counsel for the prisoners to speak, 
 while the Crown enlists all the power of rhetoric against them. The 
 fault is not with Mr. Doherty, but in the system, " Apcri os tuum 
 muto, et vindica inopem," is written in golden letters in the Court. The 
 law, instead of vindicating the poor man, shuts his counsel's month. I 
 have seen many cases where a powerful speech might have saved a pri- 
 soner's life. A good appeal to the jury would have preserved two of 
 the men who were convicted of the murder of Barry at Clonmel. It is 
 said that judges would not have time to go through the trials if Counsel 
 for the prisoners were allowed to speak. In other words, they would be 
 delayed from then: vacation villas upon circuit. What an excuse ! A.
 
 300 SKETCHES OF THE BAR. 
 
 in the belief that the Crown would not be able to 
 produce any witnesses except accomplices, 'and listened, 
 therefore, to the details of the murder of Daniel Mara, 
 however minute, without much apprehension for their 
 clients, until Mr. Doherty, turning towards the dock, 
 and lifting up and shaking his hand, pronounced the 
 name of " Kate Costello." 
 
 It smote the prisoners with dismay. At the time, 
 however, that Mr. Doherty made this announcement, 
 he was himself uncertain, I believe, whether Kate 
 Costello would consent to give the necessary evidence ; 
 and there was reason to calculate upon her reluctance 
 to make any disclosure by which the lives of " her 
 people," as the lower orders call their kindred, should 
 be affected. The statement of Mr. Doherty, which 
 was afterwards fully made out in proof, showed that a 
 wide conspiracy had been framed, in order to murder 
 Philip Mara's brothers. Fitzgerald and Lacy, who did 
 not reside in the neighbourhood of Rath Cannon, were 
 sent for by the relatives of Patrick Grace, as it was 
 well known that they were ready for the undertaking of 
 " the job." They received their instructions, and were 
 joined by other assassins. The band proceeded to Rath 
 Cannon, in order to execute their purpose, but acci- 
 dent prevented their victims from coming to the place 
 where they were expected; and the assassination was, in 
 consequence, adjourned for another week. In the 
 interval, however, they did not relent, but on the con- 
 trary, a new supply of murderers was collected, and 
 on Sunday, the 30th of September, the day preceding 
 the murder, they met again in the house of a farmer, 
 of the name of Jack Keogh, who lived beside the
 
 THE MURDER OP HOLTCROSS. 301 
 
 barrack where the Maras were at work. Here they were 
 attended by Kate Costello, the fatal witness, by whom 
 their destiny was to be sealed. 
 
 In the morning of Monday, the 1st of October, they 
 proceeded to an elevation called " The Grove," a hill 
 covered with trees, in which arms had been deposited. 
 This hill overlooked the barrack where the Maras were 
 at work. A party of conspirators joined the chief 
 assassins on this spot, and Kate Costello, a servant and 
 near relative of the Keoghs (who were engaged in the 
 murder) again attended them. She brought them food 
 and spirits. From this ambush they remained watching 
 their prey until five o'clock in the afternoon, when it 
 was announced that the Maras were coming down from 
 the scaffolding on which they were raising the barrack. 
 It appeared that some of the murderers did not know the 
 persons whose lives they were to take away, and that 
 their dress was mentioned as the means of recognition. 
 They advanced to the number of eight, and as I have 
 already intimated, succeeded in slaying one only of the 
 three brothers. 
 
 But the most illustrative incident in the whole trans- 
 action was not what took place at the murder, but a 
 circumstance which immediately succeeded it. The 
 assassins, with their hands red with the gore of man, 
 proceeded to the house of a farmer in good circum- 
 stances, whose name was John Russel. He was a man 
 of a decent aspect and demeanour, above the lower 
 class of peasants in station and habits, was not desti- 
 tute of education, spoke and reasoned weD, and was 
 accounted very orderly and well conducted. One would 
 suppose that he would have closed his doors against the 
 wretches who were still reeking with their crime. He
 
 302 SKETCHES OF THE BAR. 
 
 gave them welcome, tendered them his hospitality, and 
 provided them with food. In the room where they 
 were received by this hoary delinquent, there were two 
 individuals of a very different character and aspect from 
 each other. The one was a girl, Mary Russel, the 
 daughter of old Jack Russel, the proprietor of the 
 house. She was young, and of an exceedingly interest- 
 ing appearance. Her manners were greatly superior to 
 persons of her class, and she was delicate and gentle 
 in her habitual conduct and demeanour. Near her 
 there sat an old woman, in the most advanced stage 
 of life, who was a kind of Elspeth amongst them, and 
 from her age and relationship was an object of respect 
 and regard. The moment the assassins entered, Mary 
 Russel rushed up to them, and with a vehement earnest- 
 ness exclaimed, " Did you do any good ? " 
 
 They stated in reply that one of the Maras was shot; 
 when Peg Russel (the withered hag) who sat moping in 
 the reverie of old age, till her attention was aroused by 
 the sanguinary intelligence, lifted her shrivelled hand, 
 and cried out with a shrill and vehement bitterness, 
 " You might as well not have killed any, since you did 
 not kill them all/' Strange and dreadful condition of 
 Ireland ! The witness to a murder denounces it. He 
 flies the country. His brothers, for his crime, are 
 doomed to die. The whole population confederate in 
 their death. For weeks the conspiracy is planned, and 
 no relenting spirit interposes in their slaughterous deli- 
 berations. The appointed day arrives, and the murder 
 of an innocent man is effected, while the light is still 
 shining, and with the eye of man, which is as little 
 feared as that of God, upon them. The murderers 
 leave the spot where their fellow-creature lies weltering;
 
 THE MURDER OP HOLTCROSS. 303 
 
 and instead of being regarded as objects of execration 
 and of horror, are chid by women for their remissness 
 in the work of death, and for the scantiness of the 
 blood which they had poured out. Thus it is that in 
 this unfortunate country not only men are made bar- 
 barous, but women are unsexed, and filled 
 
 " From the crown to the toe, top-full 
 
 Of direst cruelty." 
 
 These were the facts which Mr. Doherty stated, and 
 they were established by the evidence. The first wit- 
 ness was Fitzgerald. When he was called, he did not 
 appeal- on the instant, for he was kept in a room adjoin- 
 ing the Court in order that he might not avail himself 
 of the statement and fit his evidence to it. His testi- 
 mony was of such importance, and it was known that 
 so much depended upon it that his arrival was waited 
 for with strong expectation ; and in the interval before 
 his appearance on the table, the mind had leisure to 
 form some conjectural picture of what he in all likeli- 
 hood was. I imagined that he must be some fierce- 
 looking, savage wretch, with baseness and perfidy, 
 intermingled with atrocity, in his brow, and whose 
 meanness would bespeak the informer, as his ferocity 
 would proclaim the assassin. I was deceived. 
 
 His coming was announced, way was made for him 
 and I saw leap upon the table, with an air of easy indif- 
 ference and manly familiarity, a tall athletic young man, 
 about two or three and twenty, with a countenance aa 
 intelligent in expression and symmetrical in feature, as 
 his limbs were vigorous and well-proportioned. His 
 head was perfectly shaped, and surmounted a neck of 
 singular strength and breadth, which lay open and rose 
 out of a chest of unusual massiveness and dilation. His
 
 304 SKETCHES OF THE BAR. 
 
 eyes were of deep and brilliant black, full of fire and 
 energy, intermixed with an expression of slyness and 
 sagacity. They had a peculiarly watchful look, and 
 indicated a vehemence of character, checked and tem- 
 pered by a cautious and observant spirit. The nose was 
 well formed and deeply rooted, but rose at the end with 
 some suddenness, which took off from the dignity of the 
 countenance, but displayed considerable breadth about 
 the nostrils, which were made to breathe fierceness and 
 disdain. The mouth of the villain (for he was one of 
 the first magnitude) was composed of thick but well- 
 shaped lips, in which firmness and intrepidity were 
 strongly marked ; and when opened, disclosed a range 
 of teeth of the finest form and colour. His hair was 
 short and thick, but his cheek was so fresh and fair, 
 that he scarcely seemed to have had any beard. The 
 fellow's dress was calculated to set off his figure. 
 It left his breast almost bare, and the knees of his 
 breeches being open, a great part of his muscular legs 
 appeared without covering, as his stockings did not reach 
 to the knee. 
 
 He was placed upon the chair appropriated to wit- 
 nesses, and turned at once to the Counsel for the Crown 
 in order to narrate his own doings as well as those of 
 his associates in depravity. I have never seen a cooler, 
 more precise, methodical, and consistent witness. He 
 detailed to the minutest point every circumstance which 
 had happened during a month's time, with a wonderful 
 accuracy. So far from manifesting any anxiety to con- 
 ceal or to excuse his own guilt, he on the contrary set 
 it forth in the blackest colours. He made himself a pro- 
 minent actor in the business of blood. The life which 
 he led was as singular as it was atrocious. He spent his
 
 THE MURDER OF HOLTCROSS. 305 
 
 time in committing outrages at night, and during the 
 day in exacting homage from the peasantry, whom he 
 had inspired with a deep dread of him. He walked 
 through the county in arms, and compelled every peasant 
 to give him bed and board wherever he appeared. In 
 the caprices of his tyranny, he would make persons who 
 chanced to pass him, kneel down and offer him reve- 
 rence, while he presented his musket at their heads. 
 
 Yet he was a favourite with the populace, who par- 
 doned the outrages committed on themselves, on account 
 of his readiness to avenge the affronts or the injuries 
 which they suffered from others. Villain as the fellow 
 was, it was not the reward which tempted him to be- 
 tray his associates. Though 2000 J. had been offered by 
 Government, he gave no information for several months ; 
 arid when he did give it, it was to save his life, which 
 he had forfeited by a highway robbery, for which he had 
 been arrested. He seemed exceedingly anxious to im- 
 press upon the crowd, that though he was a " stag, " it 
 was not for gold that he had sold the cause. Life itself 
 was the only bribe that could move his honour, and even 
 the temptation which the instinctive passion for existence 
 held out to him was for a long while resisted. 
 
 Mr. Hatchell cross-examined this formidable attes- 
 tator with extraordinary skill and dexterity, but he was 
 still unable to shake his evidence. * It was perfectly 
 consistent and compact, smooth and round, without any 
 point of discrepancy on which the most dexterous prac- 
 titioner could lay a strong hold. The most unfavour- 
 able circumstance to his cross-examiner was his openness 
 
 * The late Attorney-General for Ireland. In the cross-examination of 
 witnesses his reputation at the bar was not inferior to that of Mr. O'Con- 
 nell himself. 
 
 VOL. I. X
 
 306 SKETCHES OF THE BAB. 
 
 and candour. He had an ingenuousness in his atrocity 
 which defied all the ordinary expedients of counsel. 
 Most informers allege that they are influenced by the 
 pure love of justice to betray their accomplices. This 
 statement goes to shake their credit, because they are 
 manifestly perjured in the declaration. Fitzgerald, how- 
 ever, took a very different course. He disclaimed all 
 interest in the cause of justice, and repeatedly stated 
 that he would not have informed, except to rescue him- 
 self from the halter which was fastened round his neck. 
 When he left the table, he impressed every man who 
 heard him with a conviction of, not only his great crimi- 
 nality, but his extraordinary talents. 
 
 He was followed by another accomplice, of the name 
 of Ryan, who was less remarkable than Fitzgerald, but 
 whose statement was equally consistent, and its parts as 
 adhesive to each other as the more important informers. 
 They had been left in separate gaols, and had not had 
 any communication, so that it could not be suggested 
 that their evidence was the result of a comparison of 
 notes, and of a conspiracy against the prisoners. This 
 Hyan also alleged that he had informed merely to save 
 his life. These witnesses were succeeded by several, who 
 deposed to minute incidents which went to corroborate 
 the informers ; but notwithstanding that a strong case 
 had been made out by the Crown, still the testimony of 
 some untainted witness to the leading fact was requi- 
 site, and the Counsel for the prosecution felt that on 
 Kate Costello the conviction must still depend. She 
 had not taken any participation in the murder. She 
 could not be regarded as a member of the conspiracy ; 
 she was a servant in the house of old John Keogh, but 
 not an agent in the business ; and if she confirmed what
 
 THE MUEDER OF HOLTCEOSS. 307 
 
 the witnesses had deposed to, it was obvious that a con- 
 viction would ensue ; -while upon the other hand, if she 
 was not brought forward, the irant of her testimony 
 would produce a directly opposite result. 
 
 She was called, and a suspense far deeper than the ex- 
 pectation which had preceded the evidence of Fitzgerald 
 was apparent in every face. She did not come, and was 
 again summoned into court. Still Kate Costello did 
 not appear. Repeated requisitions were sent by the 
 Solicitor-General, but without effect ; at length every 
 one began to conjecture that she would disappoint and 
 foil the Crown, and the friends of the prisoners mur- 
 mured " that Kate Costello would not turn against her 
 people '" an obvious feeling of satisfaction pervaded the 
 crowd, and the prisoners exhibited a proportionate soli- 
 citude in which hope seemed to predominate. 
 
 Suddenly, however, the chamber-door communicating 
 with the room where the witnesses were kept was opened, 
 and one of the most extraordinary figures that ever ap- 
 peared in that stxange theatre an Irish Court of justice, 
 was produced. A withered, diminutive woman, who 
 was unable to support herself, and whose feet gave way 
 at every step, into which she was impelled by her atten- 
 dants, was seen entering the court, and tottering towards 
 the table. Her face was covered, and it was impossible, for 
 some time after she had been placed on the table, to trace 
 her features ; but her hands, which were as white and 
 clammy as a corpse's, and seemed to have undergone the 
 first process of decomposition, shook and shuddered, and 
 a thrill ran through the whole of her miserable and worn- 
 out frame. A few minutes elapsed before her veil was 
 removed; and when it was, the most ghastly face which 
 
 x 2
 
 308 SKETCHES OF THE BAR. 
 
 I have ever observed was disclosed. Her eyes were 
 quite closed, and the eyelids shrunken as if by the touch 
 of death. The lips were like ashes, and remained open 
 and without movement. Her breathing was scarcely 
 perceptible, aud as her head lay on her shoulder, her 
 long black hair fell dishevelled, and added to the gene- 
 ral character of disordered horror which was expressed 
 in her demeanour. 
 
 Now that she was produced, she seemed little 
 calculated to be of any use. Mr. Doherty repeatedly 
 addressed himself to her, and entreated her to answer. 
 She seemed unconscious even of the sound of his 
 voice. At length, however, with the aid of water, 
 which was applied to her mouth, and thrown in repeated 
 aspersions over her face, she was in some degree 
 restored, and was able to breathe a few words. An 
 interval of minutes elapsed between every question 
 and answer. Her voice was so low as to be scarcely 
 audible, and was rather an inarticulate whisper, than 
 the utterance of any connected sentence. She was, 
 with a great deal to do, conducted by the examiner 
 through some of the preliminary incidents, and at last 
 was brought to the scene in the grove where the 
 murderers were assembled. It remained that she 
 should recognise the prisoners. Unless this were done, 
 nothing would have been accomplished. The rod with 
 which culprits are identified was put into her hand, and 
 she was desired to stand up, to turn to the dock, and 
 to declare whether she saw in court, any of the men 
 whom she had seen in the grove on the day of the 
 murder. For a considerable time she could not be got 
 to rise from her seat ; and when she did, and stood up
 
 THE MUEDER OP HOLTCKOSS. 309 
 
 after a great effort over herself, before she had turned 
 round, but while the rod was trembling in her hand, 
 another extraordinary incident took place. 
 
 Walsh, one of the prisoners at the bar, cried out 
 with the most vehement gesture, " O God ! you are 
 going to murder me ! Fll not stand here to be murdered, 
 for I'm downright murdered, God help me!" This 
 cry, uttered by a man almost frenzied with excitation, 
 drew the attention of the whole Court to the prisoner ; 
 and the Judge inquired of him of what he complained. 
 Walsh then stated with more composure, that it was 
 unfair, while there was nobody in the dock but Lacy 
 and himself, to desire Kate Gostello to look at him, for 
 that he was marked out to her where he stood. This 
 was a very just observation, and Judge Moore immedi- 
 ately ordered that other prisoners should be brought 
 from the gaol into the dock, and that Walsh should be 
 shown to Kate Costello in the midst of a crowd. The 
 gaol was at a considerable distance, and a good deal of 
 time was consumed in complying with the directions of 
 the Judge. Kate Costello sank down again upon her 
 chair, and in the interval before the arrival of the 
 other prisoners we engaged in conjectures as to the 
 likelihood of Walsh being identified. She had never 
 seen him, except at the grove, and it was possible that 
 she might not remember him. In that event his life 
 was safe. 
 
 At last the other prisoners were introduced into the 
 dock. The sound of their fetters as they entered the 
 Court, and the grounding of the soldiers' muskets on 
 the pavement, struck me. It was now four o'clock in 
 the morning, the candles were almost wasted to their 
 sockets, and a dim and uncertain light was diffused
 
 310 SKETCHES OF THE BAR. 
 
 through the court. Haggardness sat upon the specta- 
 tors, and yet no wearinesss or exhaustion appeared. 
 The frightful interest of the scene preserved the mind 
 from fatigue. 
 
 The dock was crowded with malefactors, and brought 
 as they were in order that guilt of all kinds should be 
 confused and blended, they exhibited a most singular 
 spectacle. This assemblage of human beings laden 
 with chains was, perhaps, more melancholy from the 
 contrast which they presented between their condition 
 and their aspect. Even the pale light which glimmered 
 through the court did not prevent their cheeks from 
 looking ruddy and healthful. They had been awakened 
 in their lonely cells in order to be produced, and, as 
 they were not aware of the object of arraying them 
 together, there was some surprise mixed with fear in 
 their looks. I could not help whispering to myself as 
 I surveyed them : " What a noble and fine race of men 
 are here, and how much have they to answer for, 
 who, by degrading, have demoralised such a people ! " 
 
 The desire of Walsh having been complied with, the 
 witness was called upon a second time to place the rod 
 upon his head. She rose again, and turned round, 
 holding the fatal index in her hand. There was a deep 
 silence through the court ; the face of Walsh exhibited 
 the most intense anxiety, as the eyes of Kate Costello 
 rested upon the place where he stood. She appeared 
 at first not to recognise him, and the rod hung loosely 
 in her hand. I thought, as I saw her eyes traversing 
 the assemblage of malefactors, that she either did not 
 know him, or would affect not to remember him. At 
 last, however, she raised the rod, and stretched it forth, 
 but, before it was laid on the devoted head, a female
 
 THE MURDER OF HOLYCROSS. 311 
 
 voice exclaimed, "Oh, Kate \" This cry, which issued 
 from the crowd, and was probahly the exclamation of 
 some relative of the Keoghs, whose destiny depended 
 on that of Walsh, thrilled the witness to the core. 
 She felt the adjuration in the very recesses of her 
 being. 
 
 After a shudder, she collected herself again, and 
 advanced again towards the dock. She raised the rod 
 a second time/and having laid it on the head of Walsh, 
 who gave himself up as lost the moment it touched 
 him, she sank back into her chair. The feeling which 
 had filled the heart of every spectator here found a 
 vent, and a deep murmur was heard through the whole 
 court, mingled with sounds of stifled execration from 
 the mass of the people in the background. Lacy also 
 was identified ; and here it may be said that the trial 
 closed. "Walsh, who, while he entertained any hope, 
 had been almost convulsed with agitation, resumed his 
 original composure. He took no farther interest in the 
 proceeding, except when his landlord gave him a high 
 character for integrity and good conduct; and this 
 commendation he seemed rather to consider as a sort 
 of bequest which he should leave to his kindred, than 
 as the means of saving his life. It is unnecessary 
 almost to add, that the prisoners were found guilty. 
 
 Kate Costello, whose evidence was of such impor- 
 tance to the Crown, had acted as a species of menial in 
 the house of old John Keogh, but was a near relation 
 of her master. It is not uncommon among the lower 
 orders to introduce some dependent relative into the 
 family, who goes through offices of utility which are 
 quite free from degradation, and is at the same time 
 treated, to a great extent, as an equal. Kate Costello
 
 312 SKETCHES OF THE BAR. 
 
 sat down with old Jack Keogh and his sons at their 
 meals, and was accounted one of themselves. The 
 most implicit trust was placed in her ; and on one of 
 the assassins observing " that Kate Costello could hang 
 them all," another observed, " that there was no fear 
 of Kate." Nor would Kate ever have betrayed the 
 men who had placed their confidence in her from any 
 mercenary motives. Fitzgerald had stated that she 
 had been at " the Grove " in the morning of the day 
 on which the murder was committed, and that she 
 could confirm his testimony. She was in consequence 
 arrested, and was told that she should be hanged 
 unless she disclosed the truth. 
 
 Terror extorted from her the revealments which were 
 turned to such account. When examined as a witness 
 on the trial of Lacy and of Walsh, her agitation did 
 not arise from any regard for them, but from her 
 consciousness that if they were convicted her own 
 relatives and benefactors must share in their fate. The 
 trial of Patrick and John Keogh came on upon 
 Saturday the 5th of April, some days after the con- 
 viction of Lacy and of Walsh, who had been executed 
 in the interval. The trial of the Keoghs was post- 
 poned at the instance of the prisoners, but it was 
 understood that the Crown had no objection to the 
 delay, as great difficulty was supposed to have arisen in 
 persuading Kate Costello to give completion to the 
 useful work in which she had engaged. It was said 
 that the friends of the Keoghs had got access to her, 
 and that she had refused to come forward against " her 
 people." It was also rumoured that she had entertained 
 an attachment for John Keogh, and although he had 
 wronged her, and she had suffered severe detriment from
 
 THE MURDER OF HOLYCROSS. 313 
 
 their criminal connexion, that she loved him still, and 
 would not take his life away. There was, therefore, 
 enough of doubt incidental to the trial of the Keoghs 
 to give it the interest of uncertainty; and, however 
 fatal the omen which the conviction of their brother 
 conspirators held out, still it was supposed that Kate 
 Costello would recoil from her terrible task. 
 
 The Court was as much crowded as it had been on the 
 first trial, upon the morning on which the two Keoghs 
 were put at the bar. They were more immediate agents 
 in the assassination. It had been in a great measure 
 planned, as well as executed by them ; and there was a 
 farther circumstance of aggravation in their having 
 been in habits of intimacy with the deceased. When 
 placed at the bar, their appearance struck every spec- 
 tator as in strange anomaly with their misdeeds. They 
 both seemed to be farmers of the most respectable class. 
 Patrick, the younger, was perfectly well clad. He had 
 a blue coat and white waistcoat, of the best materials 
 used by the peasantry : a black silk-handkerchief was 
 carefully knotted on his neck. He was lower in stature, 
 and of less athletic proportions than his brother John, 
 but had a more determined and resolute physiognomy. 
 He looked alert, quick, and active. The other was of 
 gigantic stature, and of immense width of shoulder and 
 strength of limb. He rose beyond every man in court, 
 and towered in the dock. His dress was not as neatly 
 arranged as his brother's, and his neck was without 
 covering, which served to exhibit the hugeness of his 
 proportions. He looked in the vigour of powerful man- 
 hood. His face was ruddy and blooming, and was quite 
 destitute of all darkness and malevolence of expression. 
 There was perhaps too much fulness about the lips, and 
 some traces of savageness, as well as of voluptuous-
 
 314 SKETCHES OF THE BAR. 
 
 ness, might have been detected by a minute physiogno- 
 mist in their exuberance; but the bright blue of his 
 mild and intelligent eyes counterbalanced this evil 
 indication. 
 
 The aspect of these two young men was greatly cal- 
 culated to excite interest ; but there was another object 
 in court which was even more deserving of attention. 
 On the left hand of his two sons, and just near the 
 youngest of them, sat an old man, whose head was 
 covered with a profusion of grey hairs, and who, although 
 evidently greatly advanced in years, was of a hale and 
 healthful aspect. I did not notice him at first, but 
 in the course of the trial the glare which his eye gra- 
 dually acquired, and the passing of all colour from his 
 cheek, as the fate of his sons grew to certainty, drew my 
 observation, and I learned on enquiry, what I had readily 
 conjectured, that he was the father of the prisoners at 
 the bar. He did not utter a word during the fifteen or 
 sixteen hours that he remained in attendance upon the 
 dreadful scene which was going on before him. The 
 appearance of Kate Costello herself, whom he had 
 fostered, fed, and cherished, scarcely seemed to move 
 him from his terrible tranquillity. She was, as on the 
 former occasion, the pivot of the whole case. 
 
 The anticipations that she would not give evidence 
 " against her own flesh and blood" were wholly ground- 
 less, for on her second exhibition as a witness she 
 enacted her part with much more firmness and deter- 
 mination. She had before kept her eyes almost closed, 
 but she now opened and fixed them upon the Counsel, 
 and exhibited great quickness and shrewdness in their 
 expression, and watched the cross-examination with 
 great wariness and dexterity. I was greatly surprised 
 at this change, and can only refer it to the spirit of
 
 THE MURDER OF HOLYCROSS. 315 
 
 determination which her passage of the first difficulty 
 on. the former trial had produced. The first step in 
 blood had been taken, and she trod more firmly in 
 taking the second. Whatever may have been the cause, 
 she certainly exhibited little compunction in bringing 
 her cousins to justice, and laid the rod on the head of 
 her relative and supposed paramour without remorse. 
 
 At an early hour on Sunday morning the verdict of 
 guilty was brought in. The prisoners at the bar received 
 it without surprise, but turned deadly pale. The change 
 in John Keogh was more manifest, as in the morning 
 of Saturday he stood blooming with health at the bar, 
 and was now as white as a shroud. The Judge told 
 them that as it was the morning of Easter Sunday, 
 (which is commemorative of the resurrection of the 
 Saviour,) he should not then pronounce sentence upon 
 them. They cried out : " A long day, a long day, my 
 lord !" and at the same time begged that their bodies 
 might be given to their father. This prayer was uttered 
 with a sound resembling the wail of an Irish funeral, 
 and accompanied with a most pathetic gesture. They 
 both swung themselves with a sort of oscillation up and 
 down, with their heads thrown back, striking their 
 hands, with the fingers half closed, against their breasts, 
 in the manner which Roman Catholics use in saying 
 the Confiteor. The reference which they made to 
 their father drew my attention to the miserable old 
 man. Two persons, friends of his, had attended him 
 in court, and when his sons, after having been found 
 guilty, were about to be removed, he was lifted on the 
 table, on which he was with difficulty sustained, and 
 was brought near to the dock. He wanted to embrace 
 John Keogh, and stretched out his arms towards him. 
 The latter, whose manliness now forsook him, leaned
 
 316 SKETCHES OP THE BAR. 
 
 over the iron spikes to his full length, got the old man 
 into his bosom, and while the tears ran down his face, 
 pressed him long and closely to his heart. They were 
 at length separated, and the sons were removed to the 
 cells appointed for the condemned. 
 
 The Judge left the bench, and the court was gradu- 
 ally cleared. Still the father of the prisoners remained 
 between his two attendants almost insensible. He [was 
 almost the last to depart. I followed him out. It was 
 a dark and stormy night. The wind beat full against 
 the miserable wretch, and made him totter as he went 
 along. His attendants were addressing to him some 
 words of consolation connected with religion, (for these 
 people are, with all their crimes, not destitute of reli- 
 gious impressions,) but the old man only answered 
 them with his moans. He said nothing articulate, but 
 during all the way to the obscure cellar into which 
 they led him, continued moaning as he went. It was 
 not, I trust, a mere love of the excitement which arises 
 from the contemplation of scenes in which the passions 
 are brought out, that made me watch this scene of human 
 misery. I may say without affectation, that I was (as 
 who would not have been ?) profoundly moved by what I 
 saw ; and when I beheld this forlorn and desolate man 
 descend into his wretched abode, which was lighted by 
 a feeble candle, and saw him fall upon his knees in 
 helplessness, while his attendants gave way to sorrow, 
 I could not restrain my own tears. 
 
 The scenes of misery did not stop here. Old John 
 Russel pleaded guilty. He had two sons, lads of fifteen 
 or sixteen, and, in the hope of saving them, acknow- 
 ledged his crime at the bar : " Let them," he said in 
 the gaol where I saw him, " let them put me on the trap 
 if they like, but let them spare the boys."
 
 317 
 
 OBSERVATIONS ON AGRARIAN CRIME. 
 
 [JtTLT, 1828.] 
 
 BUT I shall not proceed further in the detail of these 
 dreadful incidents. There were many other trials at 
 the assizes, in which terrible disclosures of barbarity 
 took place. For three weeks the two Judges were un- 
 remittingly employed in trying cases of dreadful atro- 
 city, and in almost every instance the perpetrators of 
 crimes the most detestable were persons whose general 
 moral conduct stood in a wonderful contrast with their 
 isolated acts of depravity. 
 
 Almost every offence was connected with the great 
 agrarian organization which prevails through the 
 country. It must be acknowledged that, terrible as 
 the misdeeds of the Tipperary peasantry must upon all 
 hands be admitted to be, yet, in general, there was 
 none of the meanness and turpitude observable in their 
 enormities which characterise the crimes that are dis- 
 closed at an English assize. There were scarcely any 
 examples of murder committed for mere gain. It 
 seemed to be a point of honour with the malefactors to
 
 318 SKETCHES OP THE BAB. 
 
 take blood, and to spurn at money. Almost every 
 offence was committed in carrying a system into effect, 
 and the victims who were sacrificed were considered by 
 their immolators as offered up, upon a justifiable prin- 
 ciple of necessary extermination. These are assuredly 
 important facts, and after having contemplated these 
 moral phenomena, it becomes a duty to inquire into 
 the causes from which these marvellous atrocities derive 
 their origin. 
 
 But before I proceed to suggest what I conceive to 
 be the sources of a condition so disastrous, it is not 
 inappropriate to inquire how long the lower orders in 
 Ireland have been habituated to these terrible practices, 
 and to look back to the period at which they may [be 
 considered to have their origin. If these crimes were 
 of a novel character, and had a recent existence, that 
 circumstance would afford strong grounds for con- 
 cluding that temporary expedients, and the vigorous 
 administration of the law applied to the suppression of 
 local and ephemeral disturbances, would be of avail. 
 But if we find that it is not now, or within these few 
 years, that these symptoms of demoralization have 
 appeared, it is then reasonable to conclude that there 
 must be some essential vice, some radical imperfection 
 in the general system by which the country is governed, 
 and it is necessary to ascertain what the extent and root 
 of the evil is, before any effectual remedy can be dis- 
 covered for its cure. This is a subject of paramount 
 interest, and its importance will justify the writer of 
 this article, after a detail of the extraordinary incidents 
 which he has narrated, in taking a rapid retrospect of 
 antecedent events, of which recent transactions may be 
 reasonably accounted the perpetuation. In doing so,
 
 AGBABIAN CRIME. 319 
 
 some coincidence may be found with what the writer 
 may have observed elsewhere, but the fear of incurring 
 the imputation either of tediousness or self-citation 
 shall not deter him from references to what he conceives, 
 to be of great and momentous materiality. 
 
 The first and leading feature in the disturbances and 
 atrocities of Tipperary is, that they are of an old date, 
 and have been for much more than half a century of 
 uninterrupted continuance. Arthur Young travelled in 
 Ireland in the years 1776, 1777, and 1778. His excel- 
 lent book is entitled, " A Tour in Ireland, with general 
 Observations on the present State of that Kingdom/' 
 Although the professed object of Arthur Young in visit- 
 ing Ireland was to ascertain the condition of its agri- 
 culture, and a great portion of his work turns upon that 
 subject, yet he has also investigated its political condi- 
 tion, and pointed out what he conceived to be the chief 
 evils by which the country was afflicted, and the mode 
 of removing them. He adverts particularly to the state 
 of the peasantry in the south of Ireland, [and it is well 
 worthy of remark that the outrages which are now in 
 daily commission, were of exactly the same character as 
 the atrocities which were perpetrated by the Whiteboys 
 (as the insurgents were called) in 1760. 
 
 " The Whiteboys," says Arthur Young, in page 75 of 
 the quarto edition, "began in Tipperary. It was a 
 common practice with them to go in parties about the 
 country, swearing many to be true to them, and forcing 
 them to join, by menaces which they very often carried 
 into execution. At last they set up to be general 
 redressers of grievances punished all obnoxious persons 
 who advanced the value of lands, or held farms over their 
 head ; and having taken the administration of justice
 
 320 SKETCHES OP THE BAR. 
 
 into their own hands, were not very exact in the distri- 
 bution of it. They forced masters to release their appren- 
 tices, carried off the daughters of rich farmers, ravished 
 them into marriages, levied sums of money on the 
 middling and lower farmers in order to support their 
 cause in defending prosecutions against them, and many 
 of them subsisted without work, supported by these 
 prosecutions. Sometimes they committed considerable 
 robberies, breaking into houses, and taking money under 
 pretence of redressing grievances. In the course of 
 these outrages they burned several houses, and destroyed 
 the whole substance of those obnoxious to them. The 
 barbarities they committed were shocking. One of their 
 usual punishments, and by no means the most severe, 
 was taking people out of their beds, carrying them 
 naked in winter on horseback for some distance, and 
 burying them up to their chin in a hole with briers, not 
 forgetting to cut off one of their ears." 
 
 Arthur Young goes on to say that the Government 
 had not succeeded in discovering any radical cure. It 
 will scarcely be disputed that the Whiteboyism of 1760 
 corresponds with that of 1828; and if, when Arthur 
 Young wrote his valuable book, the Government had 
 not discovered any " radical cure," it will scarcely be 
 suggested that any remedy has since been devised. 
 From the period at which these outrages commenced, 
 the evil has continued in a rapidly progressive augmen- 
 tation. Every expedient which legislative ingenuity 
 could invent has been [tried. All that the terrors of 
 the law could accomplish, has been put into experiment 
 without avail. Special Commissioners and special dele- 
 gations of counsel have been almost annually des- 
 patched into the disturbed districts, and crime appears
 
 AGRARIAN CRIME. 321 
 
 to have only undergone a pruning, while its roots 
 remained untouched. Mr. Doherty is not the first Soli- 
 citor-General of great abilities who has been despatched 
 by Government for the purpose of awing the peasantry 
 into their duty. The present Chief Justice of the 
 King's Bench,. upon filling Mr. Doherty' s office, was sent 
 upon the same painful errand, and after having been 
 equally successful in procuring the conviction of male- 
 factors, and brandished the naked sword of justice with 
 as puissant an arm, new atrocities have almost imme- 
 diately afterwards broken forth, and furnished new 
 occasions for the exercise of his commanding eloquence. 
 It is reasonable to presume that the recent executions 
 at Clonmel will not be attended with any more perma- 
 nently useful consequences, and symptoms are already 
 begining to reappear, which independently of the ad- 
 monitions of experience, may well induce an apprehen- 
 sion that before much time shall go by, the law officers 
 of the crown will have to go through the same terrible 
 routine of prosecution. 
 
 It is said, indeed, by many sanguine speculators on 
 the public peace, that now, indeed, something effectual 
 has been done, and that the gaol and the gibbet have 
 given a lesson that will not be speedily forgotten. 
 How often has the same thing been said when the 
 scaffold was strewed with the same heaps of the dead J 
 How often have the prophets of tranquillity been falsified 
 by the event. If the crimes which, ever since the year 
 1 760, have been uninterruptedly committed, and have 
 followed in such a rapid and tumultuous succession, 
 had been only of occasional occurrence, it would be 
 reasonable to conclude that the terrors of the law could 
 repress them. But it is manifest that the system of 
 
 VOL. i. Y
 
 322 SKETCHES OF T1IE BAR. 
 
 atrocity does not depend upon causes merely ephemeral, 
 and cannot therefore, be under the operation of tempo- 
 rary checks. We have not merely witnessed sudden 
 inundations which, after a rapid desolation, have sud- 
 denly subsided ; we behold a stream as deep as it is dark, 
 which indicates, by its continuous current, that it is 
 derived from an unfailing fountain, and which however 
 augmented by the contribution of other springs of bit- 
 terness, must be indebted for its main supply to some 
 abundant and distant source. Where then is the well- 
 head to be found ? Where are we to seek for the origin 
 of evils, which are of such a character that they carry 
 with them the clearest evidence that their causes must 
 be as enduring as themselves ? 
 
 It may at first view, and to any man who is not well 
 acquainted with the moral feelings and habits of the 
 great body of the population of Ireland, seem a para- 
 doxical proposition that the laws which affect the Roman 
 Catholics furnish a clue by which, however complicated 
 the mazes may be which constitute the labyrinth of 
 calamity, it will not be difficult to trace our way. It 
 may be asked, with a great appearance of plausibility, 
 (and indeed it is often inquired,) what possible effect the 
 exclusion of a few Roman Catholic gentlemen from Par- 
 liament, and of still fewer Roman Catholic barristers from 
 the bench, can produce in deteriorating the moral habits 
 of the people ? This, however, is not the true view of the 
 matter. The exclusion of Roman Catholics from office 
 is one of the results of the penal code, but it is a sophism 
 to suggest that it is the sum total of the law itself, and 
 that the whole of it might be resolved into that single 
 proposition. The just mode of presenting the question 
 would be this : " What effect does the penal code pro-
 
 AGRARIAN CRIME. 323 
 
 duce by separating the higher and the lower orders from 
 each other ? " 
 
 Before I suggest any reasons of my own, it may be 
 judicious to refer to the same writer, from whom I have 
 extracted a description of the state of the peasantry, 
 with which its present condition singularly corresponds. 
 The authority of Arthur Young is of great value, because 
 his opinions were not in the least degree influenced by 
 those passions which, are almost inseparable from every 
 native of Ireland. He was an Englishman had no 
 share in the factious animosities by which this country 
 is divided he had a cool, deliberate, and scientific 
 mind was a sober thinker, and a deep scrutiniser into 
 the frame and constitution of society, and was entirely 
 free from all tendency to extravagance in speculation, 
 either political or religious. Arthur Young's book con- 
 sists of two parts. In the first he gives a minute ac- 
 count of what he saw in Ireland, and in the second, 
 under a series of chapters, one of which is appropriately 
 entitled " Oppression/' he states what he conceives to 
 be the causes of the lamentable condition of the people. 
 
 Having prefixed this title of "oppression" to the 
 29th page of the second part of his book, he says, 
 " The landlord of an Irish estate inhabited by Roman 
 Catholics, is a sort of despot, who yields obedience in 
 whatever concerns the poor to no law but his own will. 
 To discover what the liberty of a people is, we must 
 live amongst them, and not look for it in the statutes of 
 the realm ; the language of written law may be that of 
 liberty, but the situation of the poor may speak no 
 language but that of slavery. There is too much of 
 this contradiction in Ireland ; a long series of oppres- 
 sion, aided by many very ill-judged laws, has brought 
 
 Y 2
 
 324 SKETCHES OF THE BAR. 
 
 landlords into a habit of exerting a very lofty superiority, 
 and their vassals into that of a most unlimited sub- 
 mission : speaking a language that is despised, professing 
 a religion that is abhorred; and being disarmed, the 
 poor find themselves, in many cases, slaves, even in the 
 bosom of written liberty ! . . . The abominable dis- 
 tinction of religion united with the oppressive conduct 
 of the little country gentlemen, or rather vermin of the 
 kingdom, who were never out of it, all together bear 
 still very heavy on the poor people, and subject them 
 to situations more mortifying than we ever behold in 
 England." 
 
 In the next page after these preliminary observations, 
 this able writer (who said in vain fifty years ago, what 
 since that time so many eminent men have been in 
 vain repeating), points out more immediately the 
 causes of the crimes committed by the peasantry, 
 which he distinctly refers to the distinctions of religion. 
 "The proper distinction in all the discontents of the 
 people is into Protestant and Catholic. The Whiteboys 
 being labouring Catholics, met with all those oppres- 
 sions I have described, and would probably have 
 continued in full submission, had not very severe 
 treatment blown up the flame of resistance. The 
 atrocious acts they were guilty of made them the 
 objects of general indignation: acts were passed for 
 their punishment, which seemed calculated for the 
 meridian of Barbary : it is manifest that the gentlemen 
 of Ireland never thought of a radical cure, from over- 
 looking the real cause of the disease, which, in fact, lay 
 in themselves, and not in the wretches they doomed to 
 the gallows. Let them change their own conduct 
 entirely, and the poor will not long riot. Treat them
 
 AGRARIAN CRIME. 325 
 
 like men, who ought to be free as yourselves : put an 
 end to that system of religious persecution, which for 
 seventy years has divided the kingdom against itself. 
 In these two things lies the cure of insurrection 
 perform them completely, and you will have an affec- 
 tionate poor, instead of oppressed and discontented 
 vassals ; a better treatment of the poor in Ireland is a 
 very material point to the welfare of the whole British 
 empire. Events may happen which may convince us 
 fatally of this truth. If not, oppression would have 
 broken all the spirit and resentment of men. By what 
 policy the Government of England can, for so many 
 years, have permitted such an absurd system to be 
 matured in Ireland, is beyond the power of plain sense 
 to discover." 
 
 Arthur Young may be wrong in his inference, (I do 
 not think that he is), but, be he right or wrong, I have 
 succeeded in establishing that he, whose evidence was 
 most dispassionate and impartial, referred the agrarian 
 barbarities of the lower orders to the oppression of the 
 Roman Catholics. But the passage which I have cited 
 is not the strongest. The seventh section of his work 
 is entitled "Religion/* After saying that "the domi- 
 neering aristocracy of five hundred thousand Protestants 
 feel the sweets of having two millions of slaves," (the 
 Roman Catholic body was then not one-third of what 
 the penal code has since made it), he observes : " the 
 disturbances of the Whiteboys, which lasted ten yearSj 
 (what would he now say of their duration?) in spite of 
 every exertion of legal power, were, in many circum- 
 stances, very remarkable, and in none more so than 
 in the surprising intelligence among the insurgents, 
 wherever found. It was universal, and almost instan-
 
 326 SKETCHES OF THE BAR. 
 
 taneous. The numerous bodies of them, at whatever 
 distance from each other, seemed animated by one 
 zeal, and not a single instance was known, in that long 
 course of time, of a single individual betraying the 
 cause. The severest threats and the most splendid 
 promises of reward had no other effect than to draw 
 closer the bonds which cemented a multitude to all 
 appearance so desultory. It was then evident that the 
 iron hand of oppression had been far enough from 
 securing the obedience, or crushing the spirit of the 
 people ; and all reflecting men, who consider the value 
 of religious liberty, will wish it may never have that 
 effect, will trust in the wisdom of Almighty God, for 
 teaching man to respect even those prejudices of his 
 brethren, that arc imbibed as sacred rights, even from 
 earliest infancy ; that, by dear-bought experience of the 
 futility and ruiu of the attempt, the persecuting spirit 
 may cease, and toleration establish that harmony and 
 security which, five score years' experience has told us, 
 is not to be purchased at the expense of humanity/' 
 
 This is strong language, and was used by a man who 
 had no connecting sympathy of interest, of religion, or 
 of nationality with Ireland. So unequivocal an opinion, 
 expressed by a person of such authority, and whose 
 credit is not affected by any imaginable circumstance, 
 must be admitted to have great weight, even if there 
 was a difficulty in perceiving the grounds on which that 
 opinion rested. But there is little or none. The law 
 divides the Protestant proprietor from the Catholic 
 tiller of the soil, and generates a feeling of tyrannical 
 domination in the one, and of hatred and distrust in 
 the other. The Irish peasant is not divided from 
 his landlord by the ordinary demarcations of society.
 
 AGRARIAN CRIME. 327 
 
 Another barrier is erected, and as if the poor and the 
 rich were not already sufficiently separated, religion is 
 raised as an additional boundary between them. The 
 operation of the feelings, which are the consequence 
 of this division, is stronger in the county of Tipperary 
 than elsewhere. It is a peculiarly Cromwellian district, 
 or, in other words, the holy warriors of the Protector 
 chose it as their land of peculiar promise, and selected 
 it as a favourite -object of confiscation. The lower 
 orders have good memories. There is scarce a peasant 
 who, as he passes the road, will not point to the 
 splendid mansions of the aristocracy, embowered in 
 groves, or rising upon fertile elevations, and tell you 
 the name of the pious Corporal, or the inspired 
 Sergeant, from whom the present proprietors derive a 
 title which, even at this day, appears to be of a modern 
 origin. These reminiscences are of a most injurious 
 tendency. 
 
 But, after all, it is the system of religious separation 
 which nurtures the passions of the peasantry with 
 these pernicious recollections. They are not permitted 
 to forget that Protestantism is stamped upon every 
 institution in the country, and their own sunderance 
 , from the privileged class is perpetually brought to their 
 minds. Judges, sheriffs, magistrates, Crown counselj 
 law officers, all are Protestant. The very sight of a 
 court of justice reminds them of the degradations 
 attached to their religion, by presenting them with 
 the ocular proof of the advantages and honours which 
 belong to the legal creed. It is not, therefore, wonder- 
 ful that they should feel themselves a branded caste; 
 that they should have a consciousness that they belong 
 to a debased and inferior community; and having no
 
 328 SKETCHES OF THE BA.R. 
 
 confidence in the upper classes, and no reliance in the 
 sectarian administration of the law, that they should 
 establish a code of barbarous legislation among them- 
 selves, and have recourse to -what Lord Bacon calls 
 " the wild justice" of revenge. 
 
 A change of system would not perhaps produce 
 immediate effects upon the character of the people, 
 but I believe that its results would be much more 
 speedy than is generally imagined. At all events, the 
 experiment of conciliation is worth the trial. Every 
 other expedient has been resorted to, and has wholly 
 failed. It remains that the legislature, after exhausting 
 all other means of tranquillising Ireland, should, upon a 
 mere chance of success, adopt the remedy which has at 
 least the sanction of illustrious names for its recom- 
 mendation. The union of the two great classes of the 
 people in Ireland, in other words, the emancipation of 
 the Roman Catholics, is in this view not only recom- 
 mended by motives of policy, but of humanity; for 
 who that has witnessed the scenes which I have (perhaps 
 at too much length) detailed in these pages, can fail to 
 feel that, if the demoralization of the people arises from 
 bad government, the men who from feelings of partisan- 
 ship persevere in that system of misrule will have to 
 render a terrible account.
 
 329 
 
 NOTES UPON CIRCUIT. 
 
 [NOVEMBEE, 1829.] 
 
 DURING the last Leinster Circuit, I noted down the 
 incidents which were disclosed in several remarkable 
 trials. An attentive observer will readily find in reali- 
 ties as much matter for excitement, and calculated to 
 produce an interest as lively as invention will supply. 
 Justice may be said, in Ireland, to minister to romance; 
 for, in her periodical progresses through the South, she 
 brings to light the passions of a people, in whose delin- 
 quencies there is often as much of strangeness as of 
 atrocity. 
 
 Wexford. A case was tried here, in which murder 
 and adultery appeared in a fellowship of a very 
 hideous and extraordinary kind. A cobler's hut, in a 
 village situate at about six miles from Wexford, fur- 
 nished a stage for a frightful tragedy, in which Mrs. 
 Crosbie, the wife of a brogue-maker, performed the 
 part of Clytemnestra. The murderer was journeyman 
 to the husband. Before the ^Egisthus of the last was 
 arraigned, I anticipated that some huge and muscular 
 villain would raise his gaunt form at the dock, and that
 
 330 SKETCHES OF THE BAR. 
 
 the predilections of Mrs. Crosbie would be justified by 
 the configuration of the fascinating assassin ; and I was 
 not a little surprised, when a squalid wretch, with scarce 
 enough of raiment to hide his emaciation, appeared at 
 the bar as the hero of a sanguinary amour. 
 
 When John Brown (that was the prisoner's name) 
 heard the indictment read, by which he was charged 
 with having poisoned his master, in confederacy with 
 his wife, his plea of " Not Guilty" seemed to be sus- 
 tained by all the accessories of innocence .which a 
 peculiar repulsiveness could supply. His cadaverous 
 and charnel look; his lips that were blanched with starva- 
 tion; eyes in which fear and famine glared together ; 
 his wild and matted hair ; his stooping and contracted 
 form; his ragged clothes, and the union of physical 
 meanness with cowering debasement, constituted such 
 a nauseating combination, as rendered it almost incre- 
 dible that any woman should have seen in him an object 
 of voluptuous preference. He found advocates in his 
 ghastliness, and in the assemblage of loathsome cir- 
 cumstances that were arrayed about him, more powerful 
 than any aid which the eloquence or the dexterity of 
 counsel could supply. He had not the means of em- 
 ploying one ; and Judge Johnson begged a gentleman 
 of the bar to relieve him in some degree from the painful 
 responsibility of trying a person who was wholly unde- 
 fended, by giving him his gratuitous assistance. 
 
 In support of the prosecution, the first witness pro- 
 duced was John Hanton, who gave evidence of the 
 leading facts, in the following narrative. Crosbie was 
 a master brogue-maker, who employed the prisoner, as 
 well as the witness, in working in his shop. Crosbie 
 was married to a woman of whom he manifested jealousy,
 
 NOTES UPON CIRCUIT. 331 
 
 and complained that she was too intimate with the 
 prisoner. The latter, upon a holiday, walked with the 
 witness to Wexford, and on his way declared that he 
 would cure Crosbie of his suspicions. They proceeded 
 to the town, where Brown purchased a quantity of 
 arsenic and red precipitate ; and on their way home he 
 of his own accord told his companion, that he and Mrs. 
 Crosbie had determined to put the husband out of the 
 way. This intelligence was, as the witness stated, 
 gratuitously conveyed : Brown had no motive whatever 
 for telling him that the death of their master had been 
 resolved upon. He made no commentary, and neither 
 assented to nor remonstrated against the abominable 
 design. They proceeded to Crosbie' s house, and here 
 a strange expedient was adopted by Brown. It appears 
 that he irnagined that if he did not actually deliver 
 the poison with his own hand to the woman, who had 
 commissioned him to procure it, he would not be 
 guilty of the contemplated murder. In order, there- 
 fore, to relieve his conscience, he placed Hanton, the 
 witness, between himself and Mrs. Crosbie, and having 
 taken his hand, while Hanton held that of Mrs. Crosbie, 
 he delivered the poison to Hanton, while the latter 
 passed it to the wife. At this statement of an expe- 
 dient, which was designated as the legerdemain of 
 assassination, everybody in Court seemed to start ; and 
 Judge Johnson, struck with what appeared to be the 
 gross improbability of the whole story, became mani- 
 festly favourable to the prisoner. 
 
 The poison having been delivered to Mrs. Crosbie, it 
 was agreed upon, in the presence of Hanton, (who had, 
 according to his own account, no sort of concern in the 
 transaction, not having the least penchant for the wife
 
 332 SKETCHES OP THE BAR. 
 
 of his employer, and expecting no benefit from his 
 death,) that Mrs. Crosbie should mix the arsenic in 
 bread-and-butter; and without resorting to the red 
 precipitate, which was to be reserved for an emergency, 
 that they should try what the former poison would 
 accomplish. Mrs. Crosbie was not slow in carrying 
 the project into execution. Her husband became im- 
 mediately unwell, and the amiable wife affected a deep 
 concern for his sufferings. The prisoner at the bar 
 beheld him writhing in torture, and stood unappalled. 
 It was apprehended that the arsenic would not effect 
 their object with sufficient celerity, and Brown advised 
 that the red precipitate should be applied. Accordingly 
 Mrs. Crosbie put it into a cup of tea, and telling her 
 husband that it would relieve him, applied it to his 
 burning lips. The potion was swallowed, and Crosbie 
 expired. 
 
 He was interred with unusual haste no inquest was 
 held the witness left the village, and went to live at a 
 distance. He did not know what became of Brown and 
 Mrs. Crosbie; and it was after the lapse of a great 
 length of time, Mrs. Crosbie having died in the inter- 
 val, that he gave information upon which the prisoner 
 was arrested. The testimony of this witness was, upon 
 cross-examination, greatly shaken. Upon being asked 
 what motive John Brown could have in communicating 
 to him his intention to commit the murder, and in 
 handing the poison to him that he might pass it to 
 Mrs. Crosbie, he was unable to suggest even a plau- 
 sible reason. His concealment of the crime, too, for 
 many years, without his suggesting any inducement to 
 disclose it at so late a period, gave to his entire evidence 
 a colour of fabrication. He was at best an informer ;
 
 NOTES UPON CIRCUIT. 333 
 
 and therefore, as the Judge observed, upon his single 
 and uncorroborated statement, the prisoner could not 
 be found guilty. A policeman was produced, who 
 swore that Brown, on being arrested, declared that 
 Hanton had as much to do with the matter as he had. 
 This, however, was not such an acknowledgment as would 
 convict. It was also proved that Brown fled from the 
 village some time after the murder; but on investiga- 
 tion it was discovered that the priest of the parish had, 
 upon the ground of his profligate life, and from his 
 suspicion that he had committed the assassination, 
 ordered him to leave his district. Thus his absconding 
 was accounted for. 
 
 Had the case closed here Brown would have escaped; 
 but at length a witness, of a very extraordinary aspect, 
 who awakened universal attention by the strange- 
 ness of her countenance and figure, appeared. A 
 female dwarf, about three feet in height, although 
 eighteen, years of age, deformed in every limb, with a 
 head almost as large as the entire residue of her squat 
 and distorted body, and a countenance stamped with 
 the expression of broad idiocy, was lifted to the table. 
 She was obviously " an innocent," and an effort was 
 made to exclude her evidence, on the allegation that 
 she could have no idea of a future state. However, 
 there gleamed through the darkness by which her intel- 
 lect was enveloped a sufficient ray to show that she had 
 some notion of a place of punishment, and she mut- 
 tered the word " hell," with a stare of horror which 
 made way for her attestation. Her aspect was in itself 
 hideous enough, without any accessory, to excite a 
 painful sensation in every one who beheld her; but 
 when she stated that Mrs. Crosbie was her mother, and 
 it was manifest that the idiot child was come to brand
 
 334 SKETCHES OF THE BAR. 
 
 the barbarous parent, the interest which she excited 
 was as distressing as it was universal. 
 
 She swore that her mother had seven children, and 
 that on the night of Crosbie's death they all slept in 
 their mother's room; and she farther deposed, that 
 Brown had on that very night lain with her detestable 
 mother. In the chamber where her family were all 
 assembled, and while her husband was stretched cold 
 and dead in the room beneath, the murderess had 
 received her confederate in assassination, who remained 
 locked in her guilty embraces, surrounded by the off- 
 spring of his abominable paramour. It was observed 
 by the counsel for the prisoner, that out of the seven 
 children only one was produced. It was answered that 
 they were all, with the exception of the last witness 
 and her brother, confirmed idiots, who were almost 
 incapable of articulation, but that the brother should 
 be produced. This was accordingly done. A boy. 
 who had been struck with a visitation nearly as 
 calamitous as his sister, and was ricketty and decrepid, 
 gave the same account as the former witness, and 
 proved the adulterous intercourse to have taken place 
 immediately after the assassination. This poor crea- 
 ture mentioned that Brown and his mother went off 
 together ; and that he and the rest of the family being 
 all utterly destitute, were taken in, from compassion, 
 to the houses of the neighbours, where they had been 
 since charitably sustained. 
 
 As he left the table, a most painful exhibition took 
 place. His mother had been dead for a considerable 
 time. He was ignorant of this fact ; and although he 
 had been abandoned by her, and he had every motive to 
 hold her memory in detestation, while he was going 
 down, after his examination, he suddenly paused, and
 
 NOTES UPON CIRCUIT. 335 
 
 turning to the counsel for the Crown, with an eye in 
 which, in the midst of vacancy, an instinctive affection 
 was still apparent, he inquired, in a voice of infantine 
 plaintiveness, "Where is my mammy? where is my 
 mammy?" It is almost superfluous to state that the 
 prisoner was convicted. He was immediately sentenced, 
 and (a circumstance of rare occurrence in Ireland) his 
 execution caused general satisfaction among the people. 
 
 Waterford. An action for a libel, in which a young 
 lady was the plaintiff, and another young lady was the 
 defendant, produced great interest, and brought before 
 the public some incidents of a very peculiar kind. I do 
 not remember to have ever witnessed more extraor- 
 dinary disclosures than were made in the case of " Miss 
 
 Sarah Anthony v. Miss Jane E ." The latter, a 
 
 woman of a very respectable family, had, for some 
 time before the action was commenced, taken up her 
 residence with a younger sister, whose name was Anne, 
 upon a very wild and romantic spot upon the sea-coast, 
 at Tramore. This village is situate on a steep acclivity, 
 at the entrance of the harbour of Waterford, and, from 
 the rugged height on which it stands, commands a noble 
 prospect. Immediately beneath, the sea rolls upon an 
 immense beach of bright and polished sand, and, in the 
 storms that rage there in the winter, throws in numerous 
 wrecks on its enormous billows. On the left, the river 
 Suir is seen discharging itself into the sea; while, on 
 the right hand, an iron-bound coast; piled up to a great 
 elevation, receives the breakers of the Atlantic, which 
 come to burst, after their long sweep over the ocean, on 
 our shore. 
 
 Miss Jane E had lived in the circles of fashion- 
 able life; but weary of its turmoil, and being of a
 
 336 SKETCHES OF THE BAR. 
 
 poetical cast of mind, she selected this spot for her 
 abode. She became an author, and published a volume 
 of poems, in a very beautiful form, in which, although 
 Messrs. Longman and Co. may not have found their 
 sale very profitable, she evinced a good deal of ability. 
 Her metrical reveries are filled with perpetual refer- 
 ences to the ocean-scenery by which she was surrounded. 
 She sought in the deep caverns into which that fine 
 shore has been excavated by the eternal fretting of the 
 element to which it is exposed, substitutes for the lofty 
 halls where she had been accustomed to dwell; the 
 stalactites that depended from their arched chambers 
 made her forget the brilliant lustres of the illuminated 
 ball-room : and the voices of the deep lulled her into 
 an oblivion of that tumultuous world which she had 
 abandoned. 
 
 Here she dwelt, for a period, happy and contented, 
 enjoying the society of a beloved sister, to whom many 
 of her poems are inscribed, and unmolested by any of 
 the passions which attend the pursuits and embitter the 
 pleasures of those who reside in the agitation of society. 
 The perusal of her meditations in this sequestered spot 
 would lead to a conclusion that she considered herself 
 impregnable to any vehement and disturbing emotion ; 
 but Love contrived to climb over all the barriers which 
 even the rocks of Tramore had afforded, and finding 
 his way into the cottage of these amiable recluses, left 
 the door ajar, and gave Jealousy an opportunity of 
 stealing in. 
 
 In the winter of the year 1827, Captain Eutland was 
 appointed Chief Constable of Police upon the Tramore 
 station. The arrival of Telemachus upon her island 
 was not more fatal to the peace of Calypso. The
 
 NOTES UPON CIRCUIT. 337 
 
 captain, an Englishman by birth, with the politeness 
 that belongs to his country, combined, in irresistible 
 fascination, the strenuousness of address by which the 
 natives of Ireland are supposed to be distinguished. He 
 was at once ardent and gentle, refined and vehement; 
 of fiery emotions, but happily tempered by manners of 
 the softest and blandest character. With these advan- 
 tages, he united a frank and pleasing aspect, a bright 
 eye, black whiskers, that would have furnished strings 
 for the bow of Cupid, a complexion of a rich brown 
 hue, and, with all these attractions, a figure that would 
 have justified a comparison to the station of " Harry 
 Mercury" by any of the blue-stockings of the city of 
 Waterford. The proximity to this Phaon of the police 
 would have been dangerous to a poet of the softer sex 
 in the crowd and whirl of the most brilliant society ; 
 what, then, must have been his influences in the wintry 
 loneliness of that coast upon which an evil destiny had 
 cast him? 
 
 He became acquainted with the Misses E , and it 
 
 was soon intimated to him that a conjugal proposition to 
 one or other of them would be favourably received. That 
 urbanity by which military men are distinguised, and 
 beyond which the Captain did not go, was considered to 
 amount to an intimation that either of the ladies must 
 be an object of predilection. A Mrs. Christopher was 
 employed to sound the depths of the Captain's heart. 
 He, however, declared himself to have the fear of 
 Malthus before his eyes ; and while he felt thankful for 
 the preference, conceived his constabulary office to be 
 incompatible with any matrimonial avocations. This 
 
 suggestion was received by Miss Jane E with all 
 
 the indignation which it was calculated to create in the 
 
 VOL. I. z
 
 338 SKETCHES OF THE BAR. 
 
 female bosom. Instead of referring this frigidity to 
 the philosophical temperament with which the Captain 
 seemed to be endowed, his insensibility was attributed 
 to another influence, and the exasperated fair one was 
 not slow in discovering a Eucharis among the nymphs 
 who not unfrequently attended the Captain in Lis 
 excursions on the beach of Tramore. Miss Anthony, 
 a young lady of considerable personal attractions, and 
 of the highest merit, resided with her father at a small 
 
 cottage in the vicinity of Miss E . Mr. Rutland 
 
 was introduced to Mr. Anthony, who received him with 
 that spirit of candid hospitality which is characteristic 
 of the country; and, with their father's sanction, he 
 was welcomed by his daughters whenever he visited at 
 their house. They met him with the frank facility of 
 demeanour which belongs to Irishwomen, the gayest 
 and the most innocent in the world ; and which, so far 
 from being indicative of any evil propensity, argues no 
 fear of danger, in the ignorance of sin. Mr. Rutland 
 deserved the kindness of the family, with which he was 
 upon the terms of familiar but respectful acquaintance. 
 He never paid, nor was he expected to pay, what is, I 
 believe technically known by the name of " marked 
 attention." He was looked upon merely as a friend, 
 and was never accounted a lover. 
 
 The moment, however, that Miss E discovered 
 
 he had occasionally taken tea at Miss Anthony's, a fierce 
 jealousy took possession of her. She ascribed to this 
 innocent girl what she regarded as the scandalous deser- 
 tion of the Captain. At first, she contented herself 
 with mocking her imaginary rival with derisive gestures 
 whenever she chanced to meet her. She next proceeded 
 to observe, among her acquaintances, that the shape of
 
 NOTES UPON CIRCUIT. 339 
 
 Miss Anthony had assumed a semicircular configura- 
 tion, and that her waist was no longer "fine hy degrees, 
 and beautifully less." She then proceeded to such ex- 
 tremities as to tell Mv. Rutland that his favourite was 
 no better than what Desdemona feared to utter, and 
 that the Foundling Hospital was likely to receive an 
 accession to its members by their joint instrumentality. 
 He recoiled at the calumny, and turned with indignant 
 abhorrence from the accuser. This, however, only 
 tended to confirm her detestation of Miss Anthony, 
 and she contrived a scheme for her destruction, as 
 singular as a jealous woman ever devised. Knowing 
 that she could not effect her ends by charging Miss 
 Anthony before any magistrate in the neighbourhood, 
 because her character was above impeachment, she 
 addressed to Alderman Darley, who is at the head of 
 the police establishment in Dublin, the following extra- 
 ordinary letter : 
 
 "Tramore, Saturday, May the 3rd, 1828. 
 " Sir, 'If you will send a confidential person here, on 
 the part of the Crown, I can give some information, 
 which I accidentally heard, that may bring to light a 
 murder committed here, about six months ago. The 
 person should be a stranger, unconnected in Waterford. 
 I would communicate my information by letter, but 
 that would not answer ; nor can I communicate with 
 the police officer here, as his co-operation will be 
 essential afterwards. Let the person who comes take 
 a car in Waterford, and come to "Whelan's Hotel, and 
 send for Miss E , retaining the car for his return to 
 
 Waterford. 
 
 " JANE E .* 
 
 z 2
 
 340 SKETCHES OF THE BAR. 
 
 Upon receipt of this extraordinary letter, Alderman 
 Darley wrote to require Miss E to be more ex- 
 plicit ; on which she addressed the following letter to 
 him : 
 
 " Sir, The circumstances I alluded to, in the letter 
 of the third, were these : Another person and I were 
 walking, and we heard the scream and a long-drawn 
 groan of a child, on the 2nd of November, issuing from 
 the premises or house of a Mr. Anthony, near the 
 public walk to Tramore. Immediately after, and before 
 we had time to take off our bonnets, (for we were on 
 our return from our walk when we heard this,) the 
 maid, then living with the family, went by our house, 
 with a band-box resting on her hip, and tied round 
 with a reddish and white handkerchief; and I heard 
 afterwards that she was stopped by two men in Water- 
 ford, who opened the bandbox, and found in it a dead 
 child. Doctor Dowsley, of Carrick, and the police 
 officer here, can give some account to whom the child 
 belonged ; it being about a week or ten days old when 
 the circumstance occurred, and there were but two 
 persons then remaining in the house, namely, Sally 
 Anthony and the servant. One reason that I wished 
 to have a person sent was, that I could show the situa- 
 tion of the place, and from whence I heard the scream 
 of injury, and quick succeeding groan of death. I have 
 had a struggle with myself about mentioning the cir- 
 cumstances; but murder should not be let to pass, 
 when one sees it followed by a system of audacity, as 
 there were two women lay-in within a fortnight in that 
 house. The police officer can give every information as 
 to the child missing, as he was stopping in the house at
 
 NOTES UPON CIRCUIT. 341 
 
 the time of the last. If it should be thought expedient to 
 
 send any person down, he may come to Mrs. E 's 
 
 house, and inquire for Miss E , and I will tell him 
 
 the reason I did not give that permission at first. 
 
 " JANE E ." 
 
 "Tramore, May 9, 1828." 
 
 Alderman Darley having received these minute speci- 
 fications, dispatched a police constable to Miss E , 
 
 who distinctly charged Miss Anthony with infanticide. 
 An immediate investigation took place. The matter 
 was examined before a bench of magistrates, and the 
 whole story, from beginning to end, was proved to be 
 destitute of the least foundation. For a libel, unprece- 
 dented in the annals of calumny, an action was brought. 
 The counsel for Miss Anthony stated, not only that the 
 whole charge was abominably false, but that it would 
 be proved that, at the time specified by the defendant 
 as that in which the infanticide was committed, the 
 plaintiff was not in the town of Tramore.* 
 
 " I will," he said, " in confutation of the calumny to 
 which the annals of malevolence do not afford a parallel, 
 establish the noblest alibi in which a virtuous woman 
 ever found the shield of her honourable name. It will 
 be proved to you, that the young lady, against whose 
 life, and what is far dearer than her life, this dreadful 
 accusation has been levelled, was not at the place where 
 this frightful crime is alleged to have been committed. 
 Where was she at the moment selected by the defendant 
 with all the minuteness of atrocious specification ? I 
 will not show you that she was revolving in the giddy 
 mazes of a dance or that she was contemplating some 
 * The counsel was Mr. Shell himself.
 
 342 SKETCHES OF THE BAR. 
 
 scenic spectacle from the boxes of a theatre or that 
 she was rolling in a gilded chariot amidst the streets of 
 your city or that, amidst a crowd of enchanted audi- 
 tors, she was evoking the notes of melody from some 
 instrument of music with her soft and thrilling touch. 
 No, gentlemen; my client, although a gentlewoman by 
 birth and station, does not belong to those circles 
 which are ordinarily denominated "fashionable," and 
 where you might expect to find her engaged in the pur- 
 suit of idle and heartless pleasure. Fortune has placed 
 her in that sphere of life in which there is most virtue, 
 and most affection to be found, and where the fulfilment 
 of her domestic duties is not only the chief end of the 
 existence of a woman, but also gives to her her greatest 
 charm. 
 
 " Not of the ball-room, nor of the theatre, nor of the 
 parade, nor of the concert-room, nor of the banquet ; 
 mine shall be the alibi of the death-bed; and in place 
 of the infanticide mother sitting in madness at the 
 cradle of her murdered offspring, (for that is the pic- 
 ture which her rival has presented,) I will show you the 
 affectionate daughter kneeling at the pillow of that 
 couch from which her father was never again to rise. 
 He had left Tramorc in the month of October, and was 
 struck soon after with a severe illness, of which he died. 
 Miss Anthony attended him in his last moments. She 
 was the sentinel whom filial love had set to keep watch 
 over agony, at the very time that she is represented as 
 having been engaged in the horrible sacrifice of the 
 holiest instincts of maternal nature to the artificial 
 impulses of sexual shame. The hand that you are told 
 was laying its deadly pressure upon the respiration of 
 her child, was chafing the burning temples of her
 
 NOTES UPON CIRCUIT. 343 
 
 expiring father. She held his head upon the bosom 
 which is represented to have been teeming with a guilty 
 aliment ; she was wiping the foam away from his livid 
 lips; and as the last moments of mortality drew near, 
 when he became incapable of utterance, she explained 
 the asking but half-extinguished eye, and repeating the 
 orisons of the dying, in the fulfilment of her angelic 
 functions, became his interpreter with Heaven. 
 
 " Gentlemen, this young lady has the strongest claims 
 upon your sympathy. Reputation is to her of incal- 
 culable value. No woman ever had a higher title to 
 the compassion of the generous and the good. I mil 
 not even make an exception in favour of that pure and 
 noble lady, the daughter of the illustrious man who has 
 transmitted to his children, as an inheritance, the large 
 measure of popular favour which his great services to 
 Irelaiid have received. The public mind is still under 
 the influence of the profound indignation excited by the 
 detestable slander which was cast upon the chaste and 
 the amiable woman, whose lofty station and unblemished 
 life could not raise her beyond the reach of a base and 
 factious calumny. But is it for the great and the 
 exalted that your commiseration should be reserved? 
 Are the titled and the opulent, who are encompassed 
 with all the pomp of fashion, and who have many bars 
 upon their patrician gates against affliction, and many 
 alleviations of calamity when it intrudes into their 
 gilded abodes, to engross all your sympathy? Do you 
 think that the tears which trickled down the face of 
 that eminent lady, for whom every arm is lifted, ran 
 more rapidly and more warmly than those streams of 
 anguish which fell from the eyes of one far more humble, 
 but not less pure ? Do you think that the heart of my
 
 344 SKETCHES OF THE BAR. 
 
 client was wrung with pangs of inferior poignancy, and 
 that her bosom heaved with less agony, when she fell 
 upon her knees, and asked of Almighty God, to whom 
 she flew for refuge, what she had done to deserve a 
 calamity like this ? Believe me, that she felt her mis- 
 fortunes as profoundly, and that she is as well entitled 
 to your manly commiseration, as if she had been born 
 upon the pinnacles of fortune and the summits of the 
 world. 
 
 "I appeal to a principle which is drawn from the 
 divine ethics of that religion, of which the Founder was 
 not only the herald of immortal truth from Heaven, 
 but the celestial legislator of the feelings, and the legis- 
 lator of the heart. Make the case your own ; and in 
 forming an estimate of the injury which has been sus- 
 tained by the plaintiff and her family, let every one of 
 you inquire of himself how he would feel if his own 
 child were charged with all this infamy, and were to 
 fall, upon hearing it, senseless into his arms? But, 
 alas ! I am not borne out by any affinity to this case in 
 the comparison which I have suggested to you. I am 
 not justified in the hypothesis with which I have ven- 
 tured to send you to your own homes in quest of a just 
 standard of appreciation. My client is without a father. 
 He lies in that profound asylum in which neither joy 
 nor sorrow can ever reach him 
 
 - wrapp'd in everlasting sleep, 
 He neither hears her sigh, nor sees her weep. 
 
 She is an orphan; and yet not so she is not altogethe r 
 destitute of parental sympathy, when you will adopt her 
 injuries and make her wrongs your own. Fathers, 
 brothers, husbands, gentlemen, and men of honour, will
 
 NOTES UPON CIECUIT. 345 
 
 you not take part with this inoffensive, innocent, father- 
 less, and most unhappy girl ! " 
 
 The statement being concluded, the letters were 
 proved. Captain Rutland was examined, and by his 
 personal appearance, which was of the finest order of 
 fine forms, offered some kind of justification for the 
 vehement feelings which he had excited. He com- 
 pletely exculpated Miss Anthony. The counsel for the 
 defendant admitted that the entire libel was destitute of 
 foundation, but attributed it to mental delusion. The 
 
 plaintiff was not able to show that Miss E was 
 
 worth more than five hundred pounds, for which the 
 jury found a verdict ; and thus ended a trial which went 
 a great way to prove "furens quid foemina possit." 
 
 Kilkenny. In the Criminal Court, a conviction of 
 three men for the murder of a man of the name of 
 Devereux, afforded an illustration of the moral condition 
 of the peasantry, and one of the instances in which murder 
 is at last overtaken by a slow but certain retribution. 
 Devereux took a few acres of land from which the 
 prisoners at the bar had been ejected. It was resolved 
 that he should die ; sentence having been pronounced 
 upon him by the secret tribunal, which Captain Rock 
 has established for the redress of wrongs, which are not 
 only not cognizable, but are produced in the imagina- 
 tion of the loM'er orders by the law. Devereux was 
 aware that his head had been devoted. He never slept 
 out of the town of Callan, which was at three miles 
 distance from the farm, and always walked with arms 
 about him. 
 
 However, the ministers of agrarian vengeance were 
 not to be frustrated. A day was fixed for his immola- 
 tion. The whole country was apprised of it. As he
 
 346 SKETCHES OF THE BAR. 
 
 was walking in the broad light in his fields r one of his 
 labourers engaged him in conversation, and at the 
 corner of a hedge three men rushed on him, when his 
 companion pinioned his elbows behind his back, in order 
 to prevent him from drawing the pistol which he endea- 
 voured to grasp, and, beating his forehead in, left him 
 dead upon the ground. The whole scene was observed 
 by a woman, who was aware that the murder was to be 
 perpetrated, and went out for the purpose of seeing the 
 spectacle. She was induced, by the reward offered by 
 Government, to give information, on which the execu- 
 tioners of Devereux were hanged. Devereux was him- 
 self a bad and bloody man, and at the trial it was stated 
 by one of the witnesses for the prosecution that he had, 
 many years before, committed murder. The question 
 was not pursued, and whom he had murdered I did not 
 at the moment learn. 
 
 Upon the day appointed for the punishment of the 
 men who had taken his own life away, I left Kilkenny 
 for Clonmel. It was a bright and cheerful day. The 
 very breathing of the air under a cloudless sky, and in 
 a delightful temperature, seemed to intimate the value 
 of existence, and gave to the consciousness of a light and 
 unburthened vitality a great charm. It was a day 
 which should scarce have been selected for the ministry 
 of death. As I advanced, I observed crowds of people 
 assembling in various directions, and climbing upon 
 hedges, where women and girls as well as men, were 
 seen straining upon tiptoe, in order to catch a glimpse 
 of some object by which they seemed to be singularly 
 attracted. On looking towards the gaol, I perceived in 
 the rope which was depending from the pulley to which 
 it was attached, and in the rest of the apparatus of jus-
 
 NOTES UPON CIRCUIT. 347 
 
 tice, the motives of this intense curiosity. The mur- 
 derers of Devereux were about to die. I saw the door 
 of the prison leading to the stage on which they were to 
 perform a part that appeared to be likely to engage the 
 sympathies of the spectators, open, and presently the 
 iron balcony was occupied by the figures of the doomed 
 and of the executioner. This was sufficient for the 
 gratification of any love of this kind of excitation which 
 I may happen to possess, and turning from the frightful 
 spectacle, I desired "the driver, who obeyed the orders 
 with some reluctance, to push on. 
 
 We were soon out of sight of this painful scene. I 
 fell into conversation with the postilion, who was con- 
 tinually turning back to catch a parting view of the 
 catastrophe : and from him I learned, what I after- 
 wards inquired about and found his statement con- 
 firmed, that Devereux, upwards of twenty-five years 
 before, had imbrued his hands in blood. He had joined 
 in the conspiracy of the unfortunate Robert Emmet. 
 The insurgents rushed into Thomas-street, and ad- 
 vanced towards the Castle, scattering dismay before 
 them. They met a carriage, which they stopped. Some 
 of the crowd exclaimed, " It is Lord Norbury I" That 
 instant the door of the carriage was burst open, and, while 
 the unhappy gentleman inside it exclaimed, " No ! I am 
 your friend, Lord Kilwarden," the hand of Devereux 
 drove a pike through his heart. 
 
 Clonmel. This ancient city takes its name from the 
 appellation by which, in the language of the country, 
 the valley in which it is situate was once known. It 
 means, in Irish, " the vale of honey ;" and the beauty 
 and fertility of the landscape which offers itself to the 
 eye on approaching the town, justify the sweetest dcsigna-
 
 348 SKETCHES OF THE BAR. 
 
 tion which the Gaelic could supply. Cromwell, who was 
 a good judge of that kind of picturesque which the " vale 
 of honey" supplies, gave his corroborative and fatal 
 attestation to this figurative name. From the brow of 
 a hill, that forms one of the steps to the summits of the 
 fine mountain of Slievenamaun, just above the ancient 
 castellated residence of the Ormond family, the soldier 
 paused at the head of his devout and rapacious veterans, 
 and stretching out his truncheoned hand towards the 
 deep Suir, that rolled through fields teeming with fer- 
 tility, and towards those beautiful acclivities in which 
 all the loveliness and the plenty of a new land of 
 Canaan were disclosed, he exclaimed: " This is a country 
 worth fighting for !" 
 
 That the people of such a country are worthy of 
 being carried to the highest point of civilization by the 
 descendants of its conquerors, is a sentiment which 
 suggests itself to me whenever I pass the dark and deep 
 ravine of Glenmaur, which opens upon a prospect on 
 which a student of the graphic and of the agricultural 
 arts would repose with equal delight. It was evening 
 when I last entered this splendid tract, which is as 
 much distinguished by the richness of its soil, as by the 
 noble scenery with which it is encompassed.* A per- 
 son addicted in the least degree to the contemplation of 
 Nature in her finest forms, could not have failed to look 
 with a deep pleasure upon the wide expanse into which 
 
 * Spenser, who painted the enduring beauties of Ireland in verse, as 
 he did her transitory evils in his no less admirable prose, has immor- 
 talized both town and river 
 
 " the gentle Shuir that making way 
 
 By sweet Clonmel adorns rich Waterford." 
 
 faery Queen.
 
 NOTES UPON CIRCUIT. 349 
 
 so much of the beautiful, the useful, and fhe grand, is 
 crowded into an assemblage of splendid circumstance. 
 
 I gazed with an admiration which habit had rather 
 augmented than impaired, upon the river, advancing in 
 mazes of broad and shining water to its harbour, where 
 it conveys, by a prompt current, the products of a 
 country laden with all the wealth of prosperous culti- 
 vation ; the deep woods of Coolnamuc and of Gurteen, 
 rising out of lofty cliffs, and surmounted by still higher 
 and grander elevations ; the blue mountains of "Water- 
 ford and of Comara, which appear to have been cast by 
 some frolic spirit who watched over the convulsions of 
 the globe, in peculiarly fantastiq forms ; the huge limbs 
 of Slievenamaun throwing, from a forest of pines, a 
 massive shadow half-way over the landscape ; the glit- 
 tering encampment of golden clouds, through which 
 the sun was setting over the distant and gigantic 
 Galtees; the undulating ridges, heaved out of the 
 earth, that overhang Clonmel itself, and exhibit the 
 efforts which agriculture is every day making to climb 
 to their summits, in the patchwork of verdure and corn, 
 that intrudes upon their lone and heathy summits. 
 
 I entered the town with my mind filled with the 
 images and reflections which this series of enchanting 
 objects had produced; but my reveries did not long 
 continue, for, as the carriage rolled beside the barracks, 
 in which a strong garrison is maintained, I heard a 
 loud and discordant howling from a number of bare- 
 footed and ragged boys, who were running with long 
 sheets of printed paper streaming from their hands, 
 while they exclaimed, with a prophetic, but unintended 
 veracity : " Here's a list of all the prisoners who are to 
 be tried and found guilty at the Assizes of the County
 
 350 SKETCHES OF THE BAR. 
 
 of Tipperary." Whatever pleasing relics of meditation 
 had been allowed to remain by the shrill screaming of 
 these heralds of justice, who were thus busy in an- 
 nouncing her terrible approach, were effectually dissi- 
 pated by the purchase of one of the documents which 
 furnished the matter of their clamorous announcement; 
 and looking over the miscellany of atrocities which was 
 detailed in the frightful catalogue, I could not help 
 contrasting the loveliness of the scene through which I 
 had been passing, with the hideousness of the moral 
 spectacle, of which I anticipated that I should be a 
 witness during the assizes. 
 
 The trial of five brothers, whose names were Wallace, 
 for the murder of Arthur Graham, the husband of their 
 sister, laid a great hold on my attention. Arthur 
 Graham excited the jealousy of his wife by his atten- 
 tions to a girl much younger and handsomer than her- 
 self, Miss Winny Fahy. Among the instances which 
 were given in evidence to show his partiality for Winny, 
 (the abbreviation of Winifred), it was proved by a 
 wood-ranger that Graham had surreptitiously cut down 
 a tree, and that his object was to provide means for 
 " the edication " of his pretty mistress, whom he was 
 desirous of having instructed in the accomplishment of 
 reading. This tree of knowledge bore him very bitter 
 fruits. The charge and defence were made in the 
 presence of one of his brothers-in-law ; and urged on, 
 as it was supposed, by his wife, to avenge her wrongs, 
 they resolved that Graham should die. He was found 
 dead near his house with evident marks of strangula- 
 tion. It appeared from traces on the ground, that he 
 had been dragged, with a rope round his neck, through 
 several fields, and that his head had, as he was hauled
 
 NOTES UPON CIRCUIT. 351 
 
 along in this horrible process of lengthened suffocation, 
 struck against stones, which were dabbled with his 
 blood. 
 
 When the barbarous business had been completed, 
 and his murderers had glutted their hatred to satiety, 
 they threw his corpse, with the eyes starting from their 
 sockets, and with the tongue lolling from the expanded 
 mouth, into a ditch, where he was next day discovered. 
 It was justly observed by an old beldam, the mother of 
 his assassins, that it would have been much wiser not 
 to have indulged in the luxury of a procrastinated exe- 
 cution, and that if they had tucked him up to a tree, 
 and left him hanging, it would have been supposed 
 that he had committed suicide. This judicious, but 
 tardy remark, was communicated to one of her sons in 
 a whisper at his fire-side, where they sat together over 
 the expiring embers, and were going over the incidents 
 of the execution. " Oh, then, honey," said the hoary 
 mother, " how did you do his job for him ?" 
 
 The son imagined that his answer would be heard by 
 no other than the associate in his sanguinary proceed- 
 ings ; but there was another ear open to the sounds. 
 It was remarked by a peasant boy, who was tending 
 cattle, that while the wake of Arthur Graham was 
 going on, there was a light shining at the windows 
 of his brother-in-law's cottage. His curiosity was 
 awakened. He crept to the door, and overheard the 
 revealments in which the son and mother beguiled the 
 tedium of midnight together. His evidence was most 
 material, so far as it affected one of the prisoners. The 
 principal witness against them was a child eight years 
 of age, whose testimony seemed to have been prepared 
 by that Providence by which the murderer is so often
 
 352 SKETCHES OP THE BAR. 
 
 entangled in his own snares. It may be said that the 
 assassins were hanged by the very rope with which they 
 strangled their sister's husband. They had assembled 
 together before they set out upon their dreadful exploit, 
 in a house that adjoined one in which a child of 
 about eight years of age chanced to reside. This 
 child, who had great sprightliness and vivacity, went 
 into the cabin of the Wallaces to play, and, going 
 towards a hen-roost, took up a rope which depended 
 from it, on which there was a noose. He began to 
 amuse himself with it, on which one of the prisoners at 
 the bar, in a rough tone, desired him to desist. He 
 then left the house. His uncle subsequently ordered 
 him to put up a horse in an adjoining field where there 
 was a quarry. He had advanced to the edge of the 
 quarry, and looking down, beheld the five brothers 
 together, two of whom were holding the rope, at either 
 end, and arranging the noose. "Is it slaughtering 
 ye're going?" said the boy. Strange state of things 
 when the first idea that offers itself to a child, on 
 seeing five men together, is associated with blood ! 
 "Bring out Pat Hayes (the boy's uncle), and we'll 
 soon slaughter him ; but you'd better be off" was the 
 reply. 
 
 The only farther conversation which he overheard, 
 was relative to the propriety of one of the brothers 
 changing his dress. The boy was cross-examined by 
 Mr. Hatchell, with all his accustomed caution and 
 astuteness (qualities which he most happily unites), but 
 he could not be shaken. A child is the most formid- 
 able of all witnesses. Those most versed in criminal 
 courts almost give a case over the moment a child 
 appears. Their testimony is so distinct, so direct, so
 
 NOTES UPON CIRCUIT. 353 
 
 minute, and at the same time so clear, and the frank- 
 ness of their manner is so persuasive and so natural 
 a concomitant of truth, that every question that is put 
 to them gives corrohoration to their statement. The 
 boy, on being interrogated as to all that he did on that 
 occasion, gave a history of a wicked gander, of which 
 he was afraid, and which he fought with a little switch. 
 This dropped out quite unexpectedly; and afterwards 
 another witness, favourable to the prisoners, confirmed 
 every word which the boy had told of his encounter 
 with the gander at the door of the prisoners' house. 
 
 Four of the brothers were convicted, there being a 
 slight circumstance which saved the fifth, who was not 
 identified with perfect accuracy. But if he was allowed 
 to survive, it was to behold a frightful domestic scene. 
 The County Infirmary is at Cashel, about nine miles 
 from the place of execution. The four brothers who 
 were convicted, having been hanged, their bodies were 
 sent to Cashel for dissection, pursuant to that part of 
 the sentence which is more dreaded than death. The 
 surgeon's knife excites more horror than the hangman's 
 cord. The four corpses were placed on the same cart r 
 and bound together in a pile, which, as the vehicle 
 rolled rapidly off, was seen to heave and toss from the 
 motion, as if some relics of life and animation were in 
 it. An arm would sometimes be shaken from its 
 position, and sometimes a head was seen to depend 
 from the side of the cart, with the throat marked with 
 the compressing circle which had squeezed vitality 
 away. If the fifth brother was guilty, this sight must 
 have been a sufficient punishment. 
 
 There was another case of mercenary assassination, 
 which even in Clonmel excited dismay. It may be 
 
 VOL. i. 2 A
 
 354 SKETCHES OF THE BAR. 
 
 told in three words. A man of about thirty, and a lad 
 of sixteen, were hired, for the sum of thirty shillings, 
 to kill a person obnoxious to their employer. This 
 bargain is a model in the economy of murder. They 
 had never seen the individual whom they were paid to 
 slay. At noon they entered a field where there were 
 several people at work, and having inquired for their 
 victim, they proceeded towards him with perfect deli- 
 beration, and blew out his brains. " A long day, my 
 Lord !" cried the elder assassin, with a sort of scream, 
 as he swung himself back, and, repeating the words of 
 supplication, reiterated his moan, while he closed his 
 eyes and wrung his hands. "Villain!" I could not 
 help muttering to myself; " you gave but a short day 
 to the wretch whose blood you took at your Iscariot 
 valuation." 
 
 The reader may be shocked at these details. I was 
 weary, as well as appalled, with beholding them; and 
 about a fortnight after the assizes had commenced, 
 " having supped full of horrors," I left the Court-house, 
 and proceeded to a reading-room of the main street, 
 which has been chiefly established by the Quakers of 
 Clomnel, of whom there is an abundance in that 
 bustling and money-making town. Strangers are, by 
 the courtesy of "the Friends," allowed to read the 
 public journals, which were chiefly of a strong con- 
 stitutional cast. Having taken my seat amongst a set 
 of sober, but rosy-faced, sleek-cheeked, and broad- 
 brimmed personages, whose portly bearing and glossy 
 pinguescence would have satisfied me that they belonged 
 to a sect, the fanaticism of whose creed serves only to 
 bring into antithetical relief the sagacity of their 
 practice, without the occasional " thee and thou," with
 
 NOTES UPON CIRCUIT. 355 
 
 which their demure politeness was besprinkled. 
 " Perhaps thee would like to read the ' Evening Mail ?' " 
 "I thank you, Sir; I prefer the ' Post." ' " Thee 
 would like to read an article in the ' Standard/ on 
 Mr. Peel?" "I should rather look into the 'Times/ 
 upon the benefits of Emancipation." We have not got 
 the ' Times/ " says a sly Quaker, who had been just 
 reading a paper which gave him a look of liquorish 
 roguery; " but thee may have the ( Age/ " as he 
 handed over the pious repertory with an aspect of 
 subdued derision. 
 
 I felt that sort of tingling at the fingers which a man 
 experiences when he gets into his hands a journal 
 which he is determined to treat with the philosophy 
 of Sir Fretful, when my attention was attracted by an 
 exceedingly gentleman-like and demi-Protestant-looking 
 sort of Quaker, who was at the other end of the room, 
 narrating an attack which had been made upon three 
 Englishmen at what he called his factory at Portlaw. 
 I knew him at once to be David Malcolmson, who has 
 established the immense and incalculably beneficial 
 manufactory at the place, in the county of Waterford, 
 which he had just mentioned; and being exceedingly 
 anxious to form an acquaintance with a man who is 
 accumulating wealth while he is diffusing happiness and 
 industry about him, I approached the circle of respect- 
 ful auditors, who were listening with deferential atten- 
 tion to a man of so much sense and -of so much 
 gold. 
 
 He was stating, that three Englishmen belonging to 
 his factory had been attacked by a body of the 
 peasantry; but he acquitted the persons in his own 
 employment ; and while he lamented it, he said that 
 
 2 A 2
 
 356 SKETCHES OF THE BAR. 
 
 his horror of having anything to do with courts of 
 justice was such that he should not prosecute, and he 
 was sure that the people would soon acquire a wiser 
 and a better way of thinking. I was struck with his 
 good sense, and fell into conversation with him. Per- 
 ceiving that I was anxious to learn some details respect- 
 ing his great establishment, he told me that I could 
 see a miniature of it in Clomnel, where he had recently 
 introduced a factory of calicoes, and which was hard 
 by. He offered, with great urbanity, to accompany 
 me to it. I gladly availed myself of it, and we pro- 
 ceeded to a large white building which stands imme- 
 diately on the banks of the river, and where I heard 
 the rattling of the shuttle as I approached the temple 
 of industry, accompanied by the author of all the good, 
 of which I already received intimations from the 
 rapidity with which I heard some hundred looms going 
 through the operations. I entered under the roof, 
 where I soon beheld the evidences of all the good 
 which a single wise and benevolent man is able to 
 accomplish. 
 
 What a change from the scene which I had just been 
 witnessing at the Court-house ! A vast, immense apart- 
 ment, lined with looms on either side, was occupied by 
 a crowd of little blooming girls, who with the most 
 animated cheerfulness, and with a happy gaiety, with 
 health ruddy in their faces, and with their hands and 
 naked feet plying the respective machines over which 
 they presided, exhibited what, in the midst of such a 
 town as Clonmel, would be looked upon by the coldest 
 of observers as a delightful scene. The incessant play 
 of their limbs, as they busied through their work ; the 
 creaking of the looms; the rapid evolutions of the
 
 NOTES UPON CIRCUIT. 357 
 
 shuttle ; their perfect cleanliness, which is peremptorily 
 enjoined (each girl being obliged to comb and wash 
 herself every morning) ; the freshness of the air which 
 came breathing in from the river through the opened 
 windows, that afforded glimpses of beautiful scenery; 
 the whiteness of the walls, without a speck upon them ; 
 and the air of hilarity that was diffused over the whole 
 assemblage of what were to me new objects, gave me 
 a deep and unmixed satisfaction. 
 
 If I were to single out the feature in the scene by 
 which I was chiefly struck, it was David Malcolmson 
 himself. As he passed along, there was none of that 
 base adulation which Irish superiors are too much in 
 the habit of exacting from those to whom they give 
 bread. The girls looked at him with glances of thank- 
 fulness, but still went on uninterruptedly with their 
 occupations. He evidently felt that best of all 
 luxuries, the consciousness of being the creator of 
 felicity. 
 
 I could not refrain from telling him so, and express- 
 ing my own admiration of all that I saw about me. 
 " Thee/' he answered, " sees nothing comparable to 
 what I have done at Portlaw; but in order to save 
 these little girls from the wretched fate to which their 
 poverty had doomed them, I have snatched them out 
 of garrets and of cellars, and placed them here/' With 
 that, he led me through several other divisions of the 
 factory, which, to the height of several stories, con- 
 tained a series of apartments dedicated to the same 
 purposes. As we walked along, I took occasion to 
 inquire into some particulars respecting his larger 
 establishment at Portlaw. He had laid out upwards 
 of sixty thousand pounds upon it. There are upwards
 
 358 SKETCHES OF THE BAR. 
 
 of thirty-two thousand pieces made in each week. At 
 least one thousand persons derive subsistence and good 
 habits from it. Originally, he employed Englishmen ; 
 but he found that the Irish, on being properly in- 
 structed, were just as expert. The English had inter- 
 married with the families in the vicinity, and a perfectly 
 good understanding prevailed, which had never been 
 deviated from, except in the instance alluded to in the 
 morning. The strictest morality was preserved, it being 
 a rule to dismiss every girl who was guilty of the 
 slightest impropriety. Drunkenness had been banished; 
 and a school had been established, where no sectarian 
 animosities, no quarrels about the Bible, were allowed 
 to prevail. Here all the children of the factory were 
 instructed in reading, writing, and the elements of 
 arithmetic, and no sort of interference with their 
 religion was attempted. 
 
 All this detail I elicited from my friend David, to 
 whom I addressed a great variety of questions, which 
 forced him into some expatiation upon himself. He 
 was evidently gratified by the honest applause which he 
 had won from me, and offered to lead me from his 
 factory to his mill. It is situate at the other end of the 
 town, near an old bridge, and occupies a very consider- 
 able space. It is, I believe, the finest in Ireland. I 
 felt dizzy at the play of the- machinery, that, turned by 
 a broad torrent obtained from the Suir, which rolls 
 upon its enormous wheels, went on with its gigantic 
 labours. Here half the harvest of the adjacent counties, 
 as well as of Tipperary, is powdered under the huge 
 mill-stones that I saw wheeling with incalculable 
 rapidity, and is thence poured into the London mar- 
 kets. Honest David showed me, with some touch of
 
 NOTES UPON CIRCUIT. 359 
 
 the pride of wealth, this great concern. We ascended 
 flight after flight of stairs to a vast height. On reach- 
 ing one of the loftiest stages of the building, I saw a 
 young man shovelling the flour with his own hands into 
 a large tube, and covered with its particles. " That is 
 my son/' said David ; " he will teach others, by having 
 first practised his business himself." 
 
 We ascended to the top. Here, through an aperture 
 in the wall, which was destined for the admission of air, 
 there was an enchanting prospect of the Suir winding 
 through its romantic valley. David expressed himself 
 with admiration of the grandeur of the scene. It struck 
 me, however, that the Quaker's eye, instead of travelling 
 over the remote reaches which led the vision into the 
 far-off recesses of the Galtee mountains, was looking 
 directly down. " Is it not a beautiful river ? " he ex- 
 claimed : " Has thee ever seen so fine a river ?" and all 
 the while he was looking at nothing but the mill-race 
 below. " The Suir/' I answered, " is a second Pactolus 
 to you, and, I perceive, it is rolling in golden waves 
 over your wheel." The Quaker smiled. 
 
 We descended, and in our progress down, I observed 
 a man working very assiduously in driving holes through 
 a sheet of lead. His countenance struck me as peculiar; 
 and, noting that I had observed him, the Quaker told 
 me that he was deaf and dumb, but that there was one 
 of the millers who could converse with him by signs. 
 The dragoman was called ; and I put various questions, 
 which were conveyed and answered with signs, and I 
 received most satisfactory replies. The deaf and dumb 
 man, I was told, remembered with singular minuteness 
 all that he had ever seen, and was a great politician. 
 In order to put his recollection to the test, I desired
 
 360 SKETCHES OF THE BAR. 
 
 the interpreter to ask him if he remembered the 
 Rebellion? After some gesticulation by the former, 
 the dummy started up, and began to writhe his face 
 into grimaces, in which agony and horror were ex- 
 pressed, while he twisted his back, and quivered in 
 every limb, as if he were enduring torture ; and while 
 with one hand he touched his shoulders, that mimicked 
 convulsive suffering, with the other he imitated the 
 gesture of a man who was inflicting a flagellation. 
 " That," said the interpreter, " represents Sir Thomas 
 Judkin Fitzgerald."* 
 
 This exhibition was too much associated with the 
 scenes from which I had escaped when I left the Court- 
 house ; and leaving the part of Sir Thomas to be 
 enacted by the deaf and dumb man in my absence, 
 I descended. David Malcolmson was so well satisfied 
 by the impression which he had made on me by his fac- 
 tory and his mill, that he suggested I might find a walk 
 to his house, which is situated outside Clonmel, an 
 agreeable one. We proceeded there. The plantations 
 and shrubberies were exceedingly-well laid out, except 
 that there was a touch of citizenship in some of the 
 ornaments. When he showed me "his ruin," which 
 consisted of a pile of rocks raised into the shape of a 
 tower, I was at once reminded of Mr. Stirling. We 
 sat down together in a grotto made of shells, and of all 
 sorts of rarities which could be collected in the vicinity, 
 and which were brought together in a very incongruous 
 assortment. A piece of stone, that looked like the pro- 
 file of an old woman, seemed to be greatly prized by 
 him. I was not very sorry to lead him from a discus- 
 
 * An Irish gentleman, notorious for having united in 1798 the func- 
 tions of magistrate and executioner.
 
 NOTES UPON CIRCUIT. 361 
 
 sion on the fine arts, to which I found that he was 
 approaching, and I said : " Bye-the-bye, Mr. Malcolm- 
 son, I just recollect it was not Lord Anglesey at your 
 manufactory at Portlaw?" This brought him back, 
 where he was at home. He was excited as much as a 
 Quaker can be by the question, and starting up, broke 
 into a lavish panegyric upon the late Lord-Lieutenant. 
 I availed myself of his ecstacy to effect my retreat from 
 the grotto. 
 
 As we walked towards the house, David expatiated in 
 the tones and in the phrases of a genuine admiration 
 upon the chivalrous and lofty-minded Marquis. The 
 latter had gone through his whole factory ; had inspected 
 every minute arrangement; and finding a proof in what 
 this most meritorious and intelligent person had effected, 
 by the unaided force of his own enterprising spirit, of 
 what might be accomplished in other parts of the coun- 
 try, he had declared David Malcolmson to be, what he 
 unquestionably is a benefactor of Ireland. Discours- 
 ing upon the merits of Lord Anglesey, who had suc- 
 ceeded in producing enthusiasm even in the mind of a 
 Quaker, who generally reserves his emotions for the other 
 world, and his calm common sense for this, we reached 
 the house. Notwithstanding all its elaborate plainness, 
 I everywhere observed the lurking indications of luxury, 
 which was only thinly veiled by an ostentatious sim- 
 plicity. An ancient lady, robed in the richest silks, 
 which were, however, cut out after the fashion of her 
 sect, rose to receive me. I should willingly have tarried 
 longer, but I recollected that it was necessary to return 
 to Court, in order to attend the trial of the Borisokane 
 Police. 
 
 As I took my leave, the worthy Quaker begged of me
 
 362 SKETCHES OF THE BAR. 
 
 to accept a present. He took from the shelf of a book- 
 case a book, entitled "The Doctrines of Friends, or 
 Principles of the Christian Religion/' written by Elisha 
 Bates ; and published in the state of Ohio, in America. 
 He wished, he said, to disabuse me of some vulgar 
 notions respecting the religious tenets of Quakers. 
 Accepting the work with thanks, I assured him that I 
 should never be disposed to quarrel with the opinions of 
 a man in whose life the genuine spirit of Christian 
 benevolence was so powerfully exemplified. I passed 
 rapidly through his grounds, and after a few minutes, 
 found myself in the centre of the Court-house, where 
 the Solicitor- General was laying down the law of mur- 
 der; while Father Spain, sitting at the table immedi- 
 ately opposite, was leaning with his chin upon his hand, 
 and fixing his black Andalusian eye upon him.
 
 POLITICAL SKETCHES.
 
 365 
 
 STATE OF PARTIES IN DUBLIN. 
 
 , 1823.] 
 
 You express your astonishment at the proceedings 
 which have taken place in the Irish Metropolis, and ask 
 me for a detail of what I have seen and felt amidst this 
 incoherent and distracted people, who are so widely 
 removed from our English habits of action and of 
 thought, as to excite that sort of curiosity which attends 
 an investigation of the manners of a remote and out- 
 landish race.* 
 
 * This and the two following papers give a lively though desultory 
 account of the broils and discords that prevailed in Ireland, after the 
 pacificatory visit of George the Fourth, and during the early part of the 
 administration of the celebrated Marquis of Wellesley. " Munster will 
 be soon up/' says Captain Rock in his Memoirs, " the Lords Justices 
 have gone down to tranquillize it." Lord "Wellesley had the best abilities. 
 and the best intentions, but the " Pacata Hibernia" was not destined to 
 be the work of his viceroyalty. The case was much too bad for the 
 weak remedies he was provided with. His government, too, was divided, 
 like everything else hi the country. He was controlled himself by Mr. 
 Goulburn; and Mr. Plunket, as Attorney-General, had Mr. Joy, as 
 Solicitor, to balance him. This was too feeble a machinery to preserve 
 order ; an orange toast, or the fluttering of an orange ribbon, was suffi- 
 cient to throw everything into confusion. 
 
 Dublin, as the seat of government, was, of course, the head-quarters 
 of anarchy. The political comedy of All in the Wrong was acted there, 
 not, however, without some deplorable scenes interspersed. The most 
 eminent personages played their parts, while, as usual in seditious times,
 
 366 POLITICAL SKETCHES. 
 
 Ireland is indeed, a kind of Terra del Fuego the 
 country of fire and passion, and almost at the extremity 
 of the political world. I landed in Dublin shortly after 
 the departure of the King. The factious feelings, which 
 had been restrained by his presence, did not, for a little 
 time after his valedictory admonition, resume their un- 
 disguised and stormy force. They stood in awe before 
 their sovereign, and were checked by his rebuke. It 
 had been well if the promoters of division had not been 
 merely censured, but chastised. The King paused at 
 the " Quos ego" and directed less of his attention to the 
 task of retribution than of peace. The vehement spirits 
 retreated for an interval to their recesses. However 
 indignant, they limited the expression of their anger to 
 the walls of their Common Council. They were impri- 
 soned, but grumbled round their den " magno cum 
 murmure montis" When, however, they were relieved 
 from the abashment which the presence of Majesty had 
 inspired, the ^Eolus of this boisterous party impelled the 
 ancient missiles over the boundaries within which their 
 ferocity had been confined, and let them loose upon the 
 community. 
 
 "The glorious and immortal memory" was flung 
 by the Lord Mayor from the civic throne against the 
 barrier of decorum, by which the tempestuous fury of 
 the Corporators had been reluctantly restrained. The 
 insulting commemoration was hailed by the Orange fac- 
 tion with a sort of barbarous joy. Alderman James 
 was accounted the regenerator of sound principle, and 
 raised into an importance to which neither his station 
 nor his wealth gave him any legitimate claim. Such 
 
 the most worthless characters of the day, tipsy aldermen, fanatical par- 
 sons, and dull pamphleteers, rose into momentary consequence in the 
 general hurly-burly.
 
 STATE OF PARTIES IN DUBLIN. 367 
 
 is the miserable condition of this province that sheriffs 
 and lord mayors are lifted into political consequence, and 
 almost participate in the government of the country. 
 The violation of the royal precept was considered as an 
 achievement : a sort of chivalry was discovered by the 
 Orangemen of Dublin in the offence which was offered 
 at their orgies by the bacchanalians of the Common 
 Council; and the opprobrious celebration of the disas- 
 ters of their country was received by them as a pledge 
 of the unendangered continuance of their old immunities 
 of insult. 
 
 Their pride however, suddenly moulted its feathers, 
 when the appointment of Lord Wellesley as Lord Lieu- 
 tenant of Ireland, in room of the nobleman who had 
 given countenance to this wanton contumely, was an- 
 nounced.* The intelligence produced dismay among the 
 Orange faction, and a feeling of proportionate gratifica- 
 tion in the great body of the people. Yet upon the en- 
 trance of Lord Wellesley into the city, a circumstance 
 occurred which excited a general surprise. The Lord 
 Mayor advanced to receive him in compliance with a 
 mere customary form. It was anticipated that he would 
 meet with anything but a demonstration of favour. 
 Judge, then, of the general astonishment, when the man 
 who had given the obnoxious toast, was selected as the 
 primary object of the viceregal partialities. Alderman 
 James was touched with the talismanic sword, and 
 started into " Sir Kingston." 
 
 In making him a Baronet, I doubt not but Lord 
 "Wellesley imagined that he might conciliate the party 
 to which he belonged. Yet the Marquis was sensible 
 of the anomaly of his conduct, and cast upon his native 
 air the blame of this inconsistent act. He said that he 
 * Lord Wellesley succeeded Earl Talbot.
 
 368 POLITICAL SKETCHES. 
 
 had committed a blunder, and a convenient gentleman 
 took a portion of its discredit to himself. Mr. Blake, 
 his lordship's intimate friend, attributed the mistake to 
 his own inadvertence. " Sir Kingston," he intimated, 
 resolutely rejected the inglorious notoriety of a knight- 
 hood, and demanded a Baronetcy as the only remunera- 
 tion which was at all adequate to his services. " In the 
 hurry of the moment," said Mr. Blake, "I could not 
 avoid gratifying his vanity; and my noble friend, at 
 my instance, threw the thing away." By this expe- 
 dient, a double object was secured by Mr. Blake he 
 relieved his patron from an embarrassment, and signi- 
 fied his own influence to the public. 
 
 The history of this shrewd and ingenious gentleman 
 is not a little singular, and affords an example of the 
 felicitous combination of sagacity and good fortune, 
 which is necessary to elevate a man so suddenly, from a 
 comparatively inferior condition to the enjoyment of 
 consequence and power. He is, I have been informed 
 by his friends, the younger son of a respectable famity 
 belonging to the county of Galway, with fully as many 
 ancestors in their genealogy as acres in their estate. 
 An ensigncy in the militia was his first grade in the 
 ladder of success. His mind was active, and, although 
 without the advantage of regular service in the line, he 
 soon acquired so much skill and knowledge as to become 
 adjutant to the regiment. The troops committed to his 
 raw instructions were soon distinguished by their supe- 
 riority over the rest of these pacific levies. Upon the 
 exchange of militias, Mr. Blake went to England, and, 
 with the accustomed good luck of his countrymen, 
 formed a useful and happy matrimonial alliance. He 
 was urged by his new connexions, and impelled by a 
 consciousness of his abilities, to go to the Bar.
 
 STATE OF PAETIES IN DUBLIN. 369 
 
 He was well aware (for he not only possesses a know- 
 ledge of others, but the rarer science of knowing him- 
 self) that he had few of the qualifications necessary to 
 distinguish himself as an advocate, and chose the less 
 brilliant, but more certain path of equity pleading. 
 
 Having studied mankind, as well as law, he speedily 
 obtained employment. Professing the Roman Catholic 
 religion, he engaged in the transactions of the London 
 board of noblemen and gentlemen of that persuasion, 
 who are associated for the attainment of their civil 
 rights. In this body he soon gained an ascendancy. 
 He was greatly superior in address to the devout pa- 
 tricians, whose noble blood had been so regularly inter- 
 changed among each other, from the pious and aristo- 
 cratic fear of contaminating their faith in their descent, 
 that it hadmeandered for centuries through a few virtuous 
 and highly titled families, undisturbed by any violent 
 infusion of vulgar intellect, and unsullied by a single 
 intermixture of heterodox love. Circulating through 
 the same channels, it began to stagnate at last. In an 
 assembly so constituted, it was not unnatural that this 
 intrepid barrister should speedily obtain a considerable 
 sway. He became intimate with the chief Catholics of 
 England, and was employed by them, in his professional 
 capacity, in the management of their affairs. In effec- 
 tuating various arrangements with their creditors, he 
 displayed so much practical dexterity that his financial 
 reputation was gradually diffused among the nobility, and 
 through the medium of these useful accomplishments he 
 was introduced to Lord Wellesley. Mr. Blake ingrati- 
 ated himself into his favour, and was soon intrusted 
 with his bosom thoughts. These circumstances, com- 
 bined with his professional talents, which are consider- 
 
 VOL. T. 2 B
 
 370 POLITICAL SKETCHES. 
 
 able, accelerated his progress at the Bar. Lord Eldon 
 could not but smile upon the prosperous associate of the 
 nobles of the land ; and he rose into full business. 
 
 In Ireland, however, little had been heard of him ; 
 and when the approaching arrival of Lord Wellesley 
 was announced, the paragraphs in the London papers 
 which mentioned that his Lordship was accompanied 
 by his friend Mr. Blake, and that he had set off from 
 his house to prosecute his journey to this country, 
 excited a general curiosity. It was soon ascertained 
 that he was among the dispensers of fortune. He 
 furnished an early evidence of his influence over the 
 new viceroy, in the instance which I have already 
 specified ; and succeeded to a certain extent in allaying 
 the resentment of the people, at the distinction conferred 
 upon the person who had been the first to infringe the 
 injunctions of the King. The marked civilities which 
 were paid him by Mr. Plunket, confirmed the general 
 notion of his importance. The obsequious assiduity 
 with which that learned gentleman courted the favourite 
 of Lord Wellesley, stood in strong contrast with his 
 habitual coldness and reserve. It was understood that 
 Mr. Blake was consulted upon measures and upon 
 men ; he was known to be a puller of the wires in the 
 political puppet-show. 
 
 Another remarkable proof of his sway with the 
 Lord Lieutenant occurred soon after his arrival : Lord 
 Wellesley was invited by the Corporation to a public 
 dinner. Mr. Blake was, of course, among the guests, 
 and his health was proposed in compliment to the 
 Marquis. The representative of the King started up to 
 return thanks. This excited universal astonishment. 
 Mr. Blake sat beside him, and, interposing between his
 
 STATE OF PARTIES IN DUBLIN. 371 
 
 friendship and his dignity, superseded his viceregal 
 proxy, and expressed his gratitude himself. I have 
 dwelt upon the merits and good fortune of this pros- 
 perous barrister, because the distinction conferred upon 
 him by Lord Wellesley made him a conspicuous feature 
 in the political picture, and because the strength of 
 friendship entertained for him by so illustrious an 
 individual, throws a light upon the character of the 
 latter, as it reflects honour upon the object of his 
 regard.* 
 
 Lord Wellesley disclosed other traits of a peculiar 
 mind at the civic banquet. He made many speeches, 
 and in every one of them gave indications of a love for 
 oratorical exhibition. He indulged in encomiastic 
 expatiations upon the achievements of his family, 
 which, in a man of questionable merit would have 
 excited something like a smile, and which, with all his 
 talents, could not fail to produce amongst his most 
 sincere admirers a feeling of mingled surprise and 
 regret. The fire and nobleness of his manner, and the 
 power of his diction, were thrown away upon such an 
 audience. He flung his fine thoughts, like pearls, 
 
 * The subsequent career of Mr. Blake in connection with Irish affairs 
 was highly distinguished, and justified the opinion entertained of him by 
 so eminent a statesman as the Marquis of Wellesley. For many years 
 Mr. Blake was an able and indefatigable labourer in the public service ; 
 several important local improvements in Ireland are due to his industry 
 and sagacity; but he was chiefly conspicuous in the cause of popular 
 instruction, and as a Commissioner of National Education took a leading 
 part in the administration of the system, and contributed largely to its 
 efficiency and success. He was also a Commissioner of Charitable 
 Donations and Bequests, and a member of the Irish Privy Council. He 
 died somewhat prematurely in 1849, and proved his anxiety for the 
 progress of the National Schools by a munificent legacy in aid of their 
 funds. 
 
 2 B 2
 
 372 POLITICAL SKETCHES. 
 
 upon a porcine herd; while a certain peculiarity of 
 character, and an overweening self-complacency, struck 
 the dullest observer of them all. Of one fact, however, 
 he apprised the assembly, which was not wholly 
 unimportant namely, that his illustrious relative, the 
 Duke of Wellington, was not ashamed of his country. 
 This disclosure produced a strong concussion of tables, 
 and large libations were offered up in celebration of 
 the newly disclosed patriotism of his Grace. Upon 
 the succeeding day, the orations of the Lord Lieu- 
 tenant were the subject of general comment. It was 
 admitted that he was a splendid luminary, but it was 
 also observed that he had a rotation upon himself. 
 
 There were some, however, who divined much policy 
 in the indulgence of these egotistical propensities. By 
 talking of himself he successfully avoided any treading 
 upon topics which were full of smouldering fire. What- 
 ever may have been his purpose, whether his praises of 
 his family were the pourings-out of natural vanity, or 
 the glossing over and evasion of delicate and dangerous 
 subjects, he escaped for some time any direct collision 
 with the Orange party : and even when Mr. Saurin 
 the head of that party was removed from the office of 
 Attorney-general, to make room for Mr. Plunket, Lord 
 Wellesley was not so much the object of their indigna- 
 tion as the successor to their fallen and extinguished 
 cynosure. 
 
 This change in the law department was the first 
 measure of a decisive character which distinguished 
 Lord Wellesley 's administration. Mr. Plunket was the 
 chief advocate of the Catholics : and his promotion was, 
 in some degree, an intimation of a sentiment in the 
 British cabinet favourable to that body. The High-
 
 STATE OF PAETIES IN DUBLIN. 373 
 
 Churchmen, however, suppressed their vexation; and 
 when the first levee was held at the Castle, it was 
 attended by both parties. The concourse of Roman 
 Catholics was considerable. Until Lord Wellesley's 
 arrival, they had studiously avoided the gates of the 
 Irish palace. They had been ill-used at court; and 
 Lord Fingall himself, with all his disarming gentleness 
 of demeanour, had been insulted by a cold and repulsive 
 formality, which even his meek spirit could not calmly 
 brook. A fungous trader or two might be seen there 
 exhibiting their daughters in the vulgar sentimentality 
 of a minuet, through which they were conducted by 
 Sir Charles Vernon, with a mixture of official mockery 
 and nonchalance; but, with such exceptions, scarcely a 
 single Roman Catholic debased himself by the unre- 
 quited servility of attending the provincial court. 
 
 Upon the arrival of Lord Wellesley, however, both 
 parties thronged at his levee, and seemed to vie with 
 each other in the proffer of their emulative respect. 
 He received the different factious with cordiality, and 
 paid particular attention to Mr. O'Connell, who made 
 his first appearance upon this occasion in the character 
 of a courtier. It was said that Lord Wellesley requested 
 his co-operation in his efforts to tranquillize Ireland. 
 The flattery had a momentary operation. The infusion 
 of oil allayed his turbulence for a little while; but 
 Mr. O'Connell was too shrewd to be long deceived. He 
 soon became aware that this was the mere language of 
 courtesy, in the strict etymology of the word. He was 
 never once invited to dine " with his Excellency :" 
 and what was much more important, he, ( and every 
 other Catholic, perceived that the patronage of the 
 government, instead of being equally and indiscrimi-
 
 374 POLITICAL SKETCHES. 
 
 nately distributed among the members of both religions, 
 was confined to its former channels, and flowed exclu- 
 sively among the professors of the opposite creed. 
 
 The government of Lord Wellesley did not advance 
 in popularity. The country was desolated by famine 
 and insurgency. The measures adopted for the sup- 
 pression of both were judicious, but lost nothing in the 
 description which was given of his generalship and 
 benevolence in the despatches which were transmitted 
 to the British cabinet. Ireland was represented as the 
 theatre of regular warfare ; and the evolutions of a few 
 regiments of dragoons were recorded with all the 
 minuteness of specification with which an historian 
 would have commemorated the events of an illustrious 
 campaign. Lord Wellesley appeared to have mistaken 
 Captain Bock for Tippoo Saib. The pigsties of Bally- 
 namuck were transmuted, in his visions of military 
 renown, into the battlements of Seringapatam. A 
 horde of savages, maddened by hunger, were magnified 
 into Mahratta myriads ; and their inglorious slaughter 
 was swelled, with "bombast circumstance," into rivalry 
 with the viceroy's Oriental triumphs. 
 
 The fact was, that Lord Wellesley was fitted for a 
 greater theatre, and was like a fine actor in a village, 
 who wastes the same energy of genius upon the wretch- 
 edness of a contracted scene, which he had before 
 displayed upon a wider and more exalted stage. The 
 mock rebellion was easily repressed, and the exigencies 
 of the peasantry were gradually removed by the gene- 
 rosity of the English nation, aided by the summer sun, 
 whose glorious bounty it resembled. The political sur- 
 face was not agitated by any strong collision of parties, 
 and the machinery of government went on in noiseless
 
 STATE OF PARTIES IN DUBLIN. 375 
 
 regularity through the stagnation of the public mind. 
 The Orangemen were restored to a perfect security that 
 the system had only nominally changed ; and the liberal 
 party, habituated as they were to disappointment, sunk 
 back into the quiet of despair. 
 
 As, however, the 12th of July approached, a revived 
 solicitude arose respecting the steps which would be 
 adopted by Lord Wellesley with regard to the com- 
 memoration of the national dishonour, in which the 
 Orangemen were in the habit of indulging upon that 
 day, with the annexation of every irritating circum- 
 stance that their perverse ingenuity could devise. It 
 was asked : " Will Lord Wellesley tolerate this insult ? 
 Will he permit the re-enactment of the annual outrage, 
 and shew us by proof, what we had before been only 
 taught by conjecture, that his mission is a mere delu- 
 sion, and that he will now throw away the very forms of 
 that conciliatory purpose for which we were told that he 
 was sent amongst us ?" The Orangemen, on the other 
 hand, looked forward with an equal anxiety to the result, 
 as they considered the investment "of their idol in his 
 symbolic trappings, the irrefragable test of their autho- 
 rity.* 
 
 On the day immediately previous to that of this fac- 
 tious celebration, Mr. O' Council addressed a letter to 
 Lord Wellesley, couched in phrases of affected respect, 
 but insinuating a suspicion of his sincerity, and an 
 anticipation of the recurrence of the insult, with the 
 connivance, if not with the actual sanction, of the Irish 
 
 * It was the usage in those days to deck the equestrian statue of 
 King William in College Green with orange and blue ribbons, the colours 
 of the house of Nassau. The majority of the Protestant decorators had 
 no very clear idea whether they were tricking out William the Dutch- 
 man or William the Norman.
 
 376 POLITICAL SKETCHES. 
 
 Council. This letter attracted general notice. It was 
 said to have galled Lord Wellesley, and threw him into 
 a practical dilemma. If he prevented the dressing of 
 the statue by the forcible exercise of his authority, it 
 would be said that he had been terrified into energy 
 by the leading demagogue of Ireland ; and if he did 
 not interfere, the popular feeling would be fired into 
 additional exasperation, by the previous excitement 
 produced by the passionate appeal of the Catholic 
 barrister. 
 
 I am inclined to think that Mr. O'Connell foresaw 
 these consequences when he addressed the viceroy, and 
 retaliated upon him for the hollowness of his profes- 
 sions. To himself, Lord Wellesley endeavoured to 
 escape from this embarrassing condition, by employing 
 the influence of government to induce the Orangemen 
 by gentle remonstrance to discontinue the offensive 
 practice; and at his instance, Master Ellis and Sir 
 Abraham Bradley King exerted themselves in the 
 Orange lodges to persuade their associates to comply 
 with the desire of the Lord-Lieutenant. But the 
 Orangemen rejected the proposition with disdain, and 
 in the morning the statue stood arrayed with more than 
 its usual tawdriness of decoration. 
 
 The popular party were aghast. The Orangemen 
 exulted with an increased ferocity of triumph ; and the 
 mutual animosity of both was proportionably aug- 
 mented. The political rancour created by these un- 
 happy causes hardly needed the interposition of a 
 churchman, to lift it to an overflowing height. Doctor 
 Magee had been raised to the archiepiscopal see, through 
 the patronage of his college friend, Mr. Plunket. He 
 had, when a fellow of the University of Dublin, been 
 distinguished by the liberality of his sentiments, which
 
 STATE OF PARTIES IN DUBLIN. 377 
 
 put him into strong contrast with that learned body. 
 His book on the Atonement was indeed embittered by 
 a good deal of the odium theologicum, but allowance was 
 made for the almost unavoidable necessity of seasoning 
 so unpalatable a topic with the stimulants of invective. 
 It was supposed, that as soon as he had obtained the 
 archiepiscopal throne, he would revert to his former 
 opinions, and, having no farther objects of ambition to 
 prosecute, would profess the sentiments which a pecu- 
 liarity of situation had induced him to suppress. 
 
 But the public little understood the real character of 
 this successful prelate, in supposing that he would limit 
 his aspirations to a provincial see. He had risen from 
 a sizarship in the University to this singular elevation, 
 in which another would have reposed. But in the 
 Alpine progress of such a mind (if I may use the 
 expression) new and more glittering heights arose at 
 every step in his ascent; and York and Canterbury 
 gleamed on him in their holy loftiness, the moment he 
 had reached the exalted station which opened a wider and 
 more heavenly horizon to his views. Lord Sidmouth 
 was understood to have said, when he attended the 
 King to Dublin, that during all his intercourse with 
 political life, he had never seen a man of a more am- 
 bitious temperament than this pious divine, and that he 
 had realized all that he had imagined of the political 
 passion in its most exclusive and engrossing force.* 
 
 Just after his promotion, he exhibited a most fantastic 
 
 * " L'appetit vient en mangeant/' said the celebrated Amyot, when 
 he solicited the Bishopric of Auxerre from Henry III. of France, who 
 had not long before given him a fair Abbey. It was the same with 
 Doctor Magee. The see of Dublin only gave him a stomach for the 
 Primacy.
 
 378 POLITICAL SKETCHES. 
 
 aspect. There was a mixture of "VVolsey and Doctor 
 Syntax about him. Great talents seemed to be com- 
 bined in a strange confederacy with the pedantry of the 
 college. I should proceed in my description of this 
 person, but that it would lead me beyond my limits; 
 and I must reserve him for a future delineation. This 
 humble successor of the first propagators of Christianity 
 contributed, in the effervescent state of the public mind, 
 to swell its fermentation. He delivered an address to 
 his clergy, which contained an invective against the 
 creed of six millions of his fellow-subjects ; and lest his 
 satire should not adhere where it was directed, it was 
 barbed with an antithesis. The Dissenters, he said, had 
 a religion without a church, and the Papists had a church 
 without a religion.* 
 
 This single phrase threw the Catholic clergy into a 
 paroxysm of indignation ; and pamphlet upon pamphlet 
 was volleyed from the theological press at the head of 
 the mitred heretic. The Catholic Bishop of Carlow, 
 Doctor Doyle, was the ablest among the many antago- 
 nists who entered the briary field of controversy against 
 the Protestant prelate. The effects upon the two par- 
 ties were fatal to the restoration of public amity between 
 them. The streets were placarded with religious tracts, 
 and all the monstrosities of sectarian hate were exhibited 
 in every corner of the city. The Harlot of Babylon was 
 carted, upon one hand, in all her scarlet gorgeousness 
 and impurity ; and hell was opened, with all its flames, 
 for the misbelieving heretic upon the other. It was 
 impossible to pass through the most sequestered lane 
 without being stunned with reciprocal denunciations of 
 
 * Doctor Magce is a favourite subject with Mr. Shell. See the 
 Exorcism of a Divine, &c.
 
 STATE OF PARTIES IN DUBLIN. 379 
 
 the devil. You were assailed by clamorous boys in 
 every quarter, who importuned you with their shrill 
 cries to purchase their twopenny confutations. 
 
 In the midst of this confusion, two personages of great 
 polemical renown precipitated themselves among the 
 combatants, and the fight was suspended by all others 
 to witness their matchless prowess. Doctors Magee and 
 Doyle fell into insignificance in the shock between Sir 
 Harcourt Lees and the Reverend Mr. Hayes, the worthy 
 representatives of the ferocious factions to which they 
 respectively belonged, and whose achievements surpass 
 the most glorious feats of the heroes of the Lutrin. The 
 former is a parson, who had been long notorious as an 
 eminent lover of the chase, and had recently become a 
 sort of Nimrod in controversy, and hunted down the 
 unfortunate Papists through the dens and forests of 
 their obscure and bewildering creed. Father Hayes 
 averred in the pulpit that he had witnessed an exor- 
 cism in Rome (from which he had himself been just 
 exorcised by the Pope), and that Beelzebub had been 
 vomited by a young lady of fifteen in the shape of a brass 
 button. These were his claims to the public credit. Sir 
 Harcourt saw an assassin in every Papist, and imagined 
 that his valuable life was the great stay of the established 
 church, and the object of universal conspiracy in Ireland. 
 His fancy was bespattered with blood, and, as he was 
 vain of his powers of authorship, the visions of his reli- 
 gious malady acquired new horror in their transmission 
 from his brain to paper. The better class of both reli- 
 gions laughed at these champions of orthodoxy; but, 
 unhappily, the lower orders were inflamed by their 
 insane malevolence. They infected ignorant readers 
 with the distemper of the head and heart under which 
 they reciprocaDy laboured.
 
 380 POLITICAL SKETCHES. 
 
 The public mind was in this unhappy condition when 
 the fourth of November arrived. This is -one of the 
 days on which the statue of William is dressed ; and, to 
 the astonishment of Dublin, in place of being attired 
 with its Orange memorials, it was surrounded by a body 
 of troops, who effectually prevented all access to the 
 obnoxious emblem. Its forlorn idolaters beheld it from 
 a distance, with a heavy heart, unadorned by a single 
 ribbon, and reft of the gauay pageantry with which it 
 was wont to be festooned. Lord Wellesley had re- 
 covered the energy of his character. His mind had 
 started from its oblivion of what was due to the country 
 and to himself. Disabused of all idle hope of being 
 able to tame the hyena, he resolved to inclose it in its 
 den. The measure to which he resorted was advised by 
 Mr. Plunket, and approved of by the British Cabinet. 
 But Lord Chancellor Manners, and the ex-attorney- 
 general, Mr. Saurin, (the Gog and Magog of the Orange 
 party,) declared the step to be illegal. Emboldened by 
 such an alliance, the faction converted their murmurs to 
 invective. Meanwhile Lord Wellesley rose rapidly in 
 the favour of the people ; and, taking advantage of tlie 
 popular sentiment, for the first time went publicly to 
 the theatre. You are already aware of the outrage 
 which was perpetrated within its walls.* The details of 
 this atrocity have been so minutely set out in the evi- 
 dence laid before the public, that it would be super- 
 fluous to recapitulate it. A generous indignation at the 
 
 * The outrage went by the name of the " Bottle Rebellion," because 
 a bottle was flung from the galleries at the Lord- Lieutenant, or at least 
 at the box where he sat. It would have been wiser on the part of the 
 Government had they been contented with the expression of the public 
 resentment, and restrained their own. But a state-prosecution was 
 resolved on ; and what should have been dealt with as merely a disgraceful 
 riot was exalted into something approaching the dignity of high treason.
 
 STATE OF PARTIES IN DUBLIN. 381 
 
 Orange crime pervaded the great mass of the Irish 
 public ; and although in a few instances the sheriffs of 
 counties endeavoured to thwart its expression, it burst 
 out from all parts of the country. 
 
 In Dublin the most respectable meeting which I ever 
 saw convened in Ireland addressed Lord Wellesley in 
 the language of unsophisticated regard. He was so 
 much gratified by the friendship of his countrymen, 
 that he resolved to receive the address in public, and 
 the gates of the Castle were thrown open to the citizens 
 of Dublin. Great numbers went in court-dresses, but 
 access was given to every person of decent appearance 
 who thought proper to approach him. I entered with 
 the crowd. Two o'clock was the hour appointed for 
 presenting of the address, but the Lord Lieutenant did 
 not arrive until four, from his country residence in the 
 Phoenix Park. The tedium of expectation was relieved 
 by an abundant supply of Hock and Madeira, which 
 was distributed indiscriminately among the somewhat 
 motley assembly. To many the taste of either beverage 
 was attended with the delight of novelty, and their 
 patriotism was not a little exhilarated by the liberality 
 of their potations. The copiousness of their draughts 
 was attended with the natural results, and the liquid 
 brightness of eye, and warm suffusion of cheek, bore 
 attestation to the presence of the rosy god. 'It was 
 pleasant to observe the wonder with which the worthy 
 citizens surveyed the abode of viceregal majesty, and 
 the air of fidgetty importance with which they endea- 
 voured to assume the manners and demeanour of the 
 practised courtiers, who eyed them with a glance of 
 ineffable disdain. 
 
 I stood beside a huge man of commerce, whose purse
 
 382 POLITICAL SKETCHES. 
 
 and person were said to be correspondent to each other, 
 and perceived that he was endeavouring to imitate the 
 deportment of Sir Charles Vernon, the master of the 
 ceremonies at the Castle. The latter became aware of 
 his purpose, and in the spirit of whim, which has since 
 proved fatal to his fortunes, threw himself into a variety 
 of antic attitudes, which were copied with ludicrous 
 fidelity by the honest gentleman, who had unfortu- 
 nately selected the court-jester as his prototype. The 
 frolic was soon felt by the group about them, and pro- 
 duced much merriment at the expense of the innocent 
 person who followed his model through every evolution 
 of grimace. 
 
 My attention was drawn from this piece of practical 
 humour by a figure not less preposterous. A student of 
 Trinity College, dressed in the costume of the University, 
 had drunk of the Court nectar to intoxication, and began 
 to declaim in broken Latin with a barbarous volubility. 
 He speedily attracted the general notice, and was 
 accompanied from room to room by a troop of mockers, 
 who urged him on in his career of visionary disputation 
 (for he imagined himself to be engaged in some scholastic 
 controversy) by the repetition of some of the jargon of 
 Murray's Logic. At length he fastened upon the Arch- 
 bishop of Dublin, who was rocking himself with an 
 hierarchical swing through St. Patrick's Hall, and threw 
 down the gauntlet to that ingenious divine. Doctor 
 Magee did not at all relish the proposal, and endea- 
 voured to escape from him ; but the relentless logician 
 pursued the doctor with a torrent of strange gibberish, 
 until he was compelled to apply to one of the beef- 
 eaters to interpose between him and this inveterate 
 disciple of the Stagyrite.
 
 STATE OF PARTIES IN DUBLIN. 383 
 
 At length Lord "Wellesley arrived with all his suite, 
 and his appearance was full of imposing effect. The 
 day was advanced into evening, and little of its beams 
 broke through the windows of the lofty and expansive 
 room in which a great concourse had assembled. The 
 crimson curtains of the throne, which had been raised 
 for the king during his visit, were illuminated by broad 
 and brilliant lights, and threw a rich and gorgeous tone 
 over the scene. The splendid dresses of the persons 
 in immediate waiting upon the Lord Lieutenant, filled 
 the depth of the background with gold and silver, and 
 before him stood a vast and breathless mass of men 
 which reached to the opposite extremity of the hall. 
 Lord Wellesley was before the throne, and, while the 
 Lord Mayor read the address, I had full opportunity 
 to observe him. 
 
 With a person almost diminutive, he had, notwith- 
 standing, a most dignified deportment. I never saw a 
 finer head. It realized the " beau ideal " of all that I 
 had previously conceived requisite for the physiognomy 
 of a statesman. His fixed and illuminated eyes his 
 lofty and vaulted forehead, sprinkled with a few white 
 hairs his bold and commanding mouth, and the 
 aspiring and eagle-like expression of soul which per- 
 vaded his countenance, struck me with admiration. I 
 had heard that his body had been wasted by time and 
 pleasure, but he appeared in perfect health and vigour. 
 In place of the emaciation which I had anticipated, and 
 that pale cast of thought which we associate with legis- 
 lative cares, his face was fresh and almost ruddy. " The 
 pure and eloquent blood spoke in his cheeks." While 
 the address was reading, I could perceive a deep and 
 generous emotion about him, and forgave him at once
 
 384 POLITICAL SKETCHES. 
 
 for all the egotism which in his printed speeches had 
 startled my sense of propriety, but which was mitigated, 
 if not completely justified, by its companionship with 
 so much nobleness and elevation as were associated 
 with his aspect. 
 
 When the Lord Mayor had concluded, there was a 
 long pause, and for some moments Lord Wellesley 
 remained silent. But " his look drew audience." At 
 length his mind broke out in high, piercing, and mea- 
 sured accents, which were fraught with strong and 
 exalted sentiment, and attended with an intenser ex- 
 citation than I remember ever to have witnessed in a 
 popular assembly. His intonations were perfect : they 
 were not subdued by the cold rules of diplomatic 
 etiquette, but ascended into fine and impassioned ora- 
 tory. His whole frame seemed agitated and inspired. 
 His person seemed to have lost the pettiness of its 
 dimensions, and to have been heightened by the in- 
 forming spirit. The enthusiasm which was produced 
 burst through the restraints of strict propriety; and 
 almost every sentence was cheered by repeated accla- 
 mation. I feared that this unusual expression of the 
 public feeling would have alarmed his sense of de- 
 corum ; but, in place of disturbing him in his course, 
 he appeared to derive a new fervour from the cordial 
 applause which he received. In one instance, however, 
 he fell into exaggeration, which, redeemed as it was by 
 his admirable delivery, did not at first surprise his 
 hearers, but was afterwards observed upon. He said 
 that he had attained such a high pitch of happiness, 
 that he could scarcely hope for the recurrence of so 
 much felicity; and that "if the poniard were lifted 
 against his bosom, he would bid the assassin strike."
 
 STATE OF PARTIES IN DUBLIN. 385 
 
 This somewhat melodramatic sentiment was delivered 
 very much in the manner of Kean, and both in con- 
 ception and enunciation certainly savoured of the 
 Boulevards. But, altogether, the speech, with a few 
 of such imperfections, was a piece of noble, and, I 
 believe, of sincere eloquence. The meeting dispersed 
 with an unqualified feeling of admiration for the 
 nobleman who had given so fine an utterance to his 
 generous sentiments, and expressed so genuine and 
 so rare an affection for his country. Lord Welles- 
 ley's reply added to the exasperation of the Orange 
 party ; and the events which succeeded raised it to its 
 height. 
 
 The grand jury, composed in a great degree of 
 affiliated Orangemen, threw out the bills of indictment 
 tendered by the Crown against the perpetrators of the 
 outrage at the Theatre. Mr. Plunket announced his 
 resolution to proceed by ex officio information ; and a 
 day was appointed for a trial at bar. The most anxious 
 suspense awaited its arrival. A deep pulsation throbbed 
 through the city. The ordinary occupations of life 
 appeared to be laid aside in the agitating expectation 
 of the event which was to set a seal upon the future 
 government of Ireland. It engrossed the thoughts 
 and tongues of men, and exercised a painful monopoly 
 of all their hopes and anticipations. At length the 
 day of trial appeared amidst the heaviness of a grey 
 and sombre morning. It was announced beforehand, 
 that the judges would take their seats precisely at nine 
 o'clock j the doors of the court to be opened at half- 
 past seven. The earliness of the hour, immaterial as 
 it may seem, had the effect of throwing society out of 
 
 VOL. I. 2 c
 
 386 POLITICAL SKETCHES. 
 
 its ordinary habits. "Whiskey-punch and early rising 
 are sworn foes. The citizens of Dublin are much 
 fonder of putting on their nightcaps than their morning 
 dress at cock- crowing. But on this occasion all accus- 
 tomed comforts were nobly sacrificed. Politicians of 
 every class and mind, corporators, beef-eaters, Catho- 
 lic, Orange, liberal and radical, all bravely started up 
 at half-past six to exchange the soothing glories of a 
 tipsy dream for the raw encounter of the cold realities 
 of a winter morning. 
 
 I reached the hall of the Four Courts about eight 
 o'clock, but had the mortification to find that I was too 
 late. The Orangemen, true to their principle of making 
 a push on every occasion for the Protestant ascendancy, 
 were in the field before me. As soon as the doors were 
 opened, one tremendous rush filled in an instant the 
 galleries and every avenue of the court. However, I 
 remembered the Irish saying, that Avith patience and per- 
 severance, a man may open an oyster with a rolling-pin. 
 I acted upon this doctrine, and by dint of shoving and 
 insinuation, contrived, after a full hour's hard work, to 
 attain a place in one of the dark side-lobbies of the 
 court, from which, by standing on tiptoe, I could catch 
 a view of what was going on within. Even this I could 
 achieve only through one small aperture ; and the effect 
 was as if I had been looking at some gorgeous spectacle 
 through the eye-hole of a rareeshow-box. The pro- 
 ceedings had not yet commenced, and I had time to 
 examine in detail the silent scene. 
 
 There was not a murmur in the court ; but the first 
 glance at the auditory would have satisfied you that 
 deep passions were working there, and could not long
 
 STATE OF PARTIES IN T DUBLIN. 387 
 
 be hushed. The signs of this were most apparent in 
 the galleries. You saw it in the scowling brows of the 
 Orange partisans and few else were there; in the 
 compressed lip in the roll of ferocious confidence with 
 which their eyes went round the scene that reminded 
 them of their strength in the glare of factious recog- 
 nition with which they greeted the accused, and assured 
 them of a triumph. My eye next rested upon the 
 crowded benches of the bar. They, too, betrayed a 
 consciousness of being themselves upon their trial. 
 Instead of the legal nonchalance with which they 
 usually await the coming-on of the most important 
 cause, they now presented a series of countenances 
 quivering with political resentment. Of all the classes 
 in the community, this body had felt perhaps the most 
 intensely the late determination to control the preten- 
 sions of the Protestant ascendancy ; for with them all 
 prescriptive privileges had been most complete and 
 undisputed. 
 
 It was easy to trace their emotions in their looks 
 in the fixed and deadly sneer in the flush of haughty 
 indignation in the impassioned gestures, with which, 
 in whispers among themselves, they arraigned the whole 
 proceeding, and foretold the disasters it would bring^ 
 upon the land. The sentiment of alarm and exaspera- 
 tion extended to many who had heretofore been re- 
 garded by others, and by themselves, as free from the 
 taint of party ; but in the heat of the times, their coun- 
 tenances (like their native marble when brought near 
 the fire) had broken out in spots and stains, which had 
 hitherto lain concealed beneath the surface. As I 
 looked round upon this scene of prejudice and anger, 
 
 2 c 2
 
 POLITICAL SKETCHES. 
 
 the first question that pressed upon me was, whether 
 the present was an occasion upon which impartial 
 justice could be expected ; whether in such an audi- 
 ence a jury could be found (for the panel was dispersed 
 through the galleries) who could shake off the passions 
 of even that single morning, and remember nothing 
 but the evidence and their oaths. I could not venture 
 to pronounce in the affirmative. 
 
 Still it was quite refreshing to perceive, that in 
 despite of every obstacle that faction could interpose, 
 the cause of justice had one great and certain stay. 
 When I turned to the bench and witnessed the stead- 
 fast and cheerful dignity of the judges, I felt assured 
 that in that quarter the public interests were secure. 
 The appearance, and the respective characters of the 
 men, forced this cheering conviction upon the mind, 
 There was Bushe, pledged by his whole life against the 
 cause of religious persecution, and too strong and proud 
 to be panic-struck. Burton, a gift to Ireland, from a 
 country where law is sacred cautious, sagacious, and 
 enlightened vigorous and independent at all times, 
 and " best when provoked." Jebb and Vandeleur 
 gentle and efficient in the discharge of their ordi- 
 nary functions as yet untried upon any great occa- 
 sion, but sure to be firm and upright upon an emer- 
 gency. 
 
 It seems fated that in this tragi-comic nation, how- 
 ever a public proceeding may terminate, it should not 
 pass away without many a hearty laugh. In the pre- 
 sent instance, the business of the day opened with a 
 joke. Mr. Plunket rose " to call the attention of the 
 court to a matter of some importance :" a dead silence
 
 STATE OF PARTIES IN DUEL^ 7 . 389 
 
 prevailed. The Attorney-General proceeded with, much 
 gravity to state, " that he had been anxiously waiting the 
 arrival of his colleagues, the Solicitor-General and Mr. 
 Serjeant Lefroy; and that, after a long search for them 
 in all directions, it had been just discovered that they 
 were both in one of the avenues of the court, firmly 
 wedged in among the populace, with a prospect of im- 
 mediate suffocation, unless their lordships should be 
 pleased to interfere in their behalf ! " The political tenets 
 of the two learned sufferers were well known ; and the 
 most bigoted Orangeman in the galleries could not 
 refrain from a loud giggle at the notion of two such 
 personages writhing under the horrors of a popular 
 embrace. The Chief Justice contrived to draw the veil 
 of judicial gravity over the rising smile, while he gave 
 the necessary orders ; and Mr. Sheriff Thorpe, with the 
 most heroical alertness, rushed out of court, breathing 
 from his looks the determination to employ all the 
 powers vested in his Lilliputian person by the constitu- 
 tion, to rescue his friends from so novel a situation. 
 He soon returned triumphantly, producing the two 
 learned bodies in proof of what his civil prowess could 
 achieve ; and the proceedings of the day were no longer 
 deferred. 
 
 The proceedings of this singular trial are now before 
 the public ; I take it for granted you have read them 
 if you have not, they are far too voluminous for me 
 to detail ; nor will my limits permit me to offer any- 
 thing in the way of minute criticism upon the speci- 
 mens of Irish oratory elicited upon this occasion. Mr. 
 Plunket's speech was on a level with his subject, but 
 scarcely with himself. The Solicitor- General's was
 
 390 POLITICAL SKETCHES. 
 
 tame and technical : he felt too much sympathy with 
 Orange principles, and he openly avowed them, to 
 prove a formidable denouncer of Orange excesses.* 
 Mr. North's address was the most applauded ; but had 
 I space, I should hardly think it fair to forestall the 
 ingenious author of the Bar Sketches, by whom Mr. 
 North's admirers expect to see him presented, ere long, 
 in vivid colours to the public.f 
 
 By the way, it was whispered about, during the pre- 
 sent trial, that this forensic portrait painter, respecting 
 whom much grave conjecture has been afloat here, was 
 actually in attendance ; and no other than a lady of 
 
 rank Lady B/ (not the Dowager of the name, who 
 
 was resuscitated at eighty-six to give evidence upon this 
 trial, and who looked like Erichtho, filled with the re- 
 animating spirit of faction.) The fair reporteress daily 
 occupied a prominent situation in the gallery, where 
 her Scotch physiognomy was contrasted with the Crom- 
 wellian visages that glared about her. She held a silver 
 pen, that was pressed occasionally against her lips, while 
 her eyes gleamed with the most intense anxiety for 
 the fate of the prisoners, with whom she seemed to par- 
 ticipate in emotion ; and the instant the least circum- 
 stance was mentioned at all favourable to them, her 
 white hand darted to the paper before her, on which 
 
 * The Solicitor-General was Mr. Joy, whose portrait Mr. Sheil has 
 drawn at full length in another place. He has there also given a 
 minnte account of Mr. Joy's speech in the case of the Orange rioters. 
 
 f 1 A sketch of Mr. North appeared subsequently from the pen of 
 Mr. William Henry Curran. The lady alluded to in the next sentence 
 as the suspected "forensic portrait painter" was the Lady Eossmore 
 of the day.
 
 STATE OF PARTIES IN DUBLIN. 391 
 
 she scrawled, with an agitating velocity, for a moment, 
 and then assumed her attitude of restless vigilance 
 again. This " recording angel," the only person of her 
 sex in the gallery, pressed and jammed collaterally, and 
 a posteriore, by the incumbent mass of low Orange- 
 men among whom she was stowed, struck me as one 
 of the most singular features in this strange and 
 fantastic scene. 
 
 The final result of the trial was what many had anti- 
 cipated ; and under the peculiar circumstances of this 
 distracted province, it was perhaps the most fortunate 
 that could have occurred. The Orangemen fondly 
 counted upon a verdict of acquittal to the .last. Their 
 sympathy never flagged for an instant. During each 
 succeeding day of the proceedings they were the first 
 to fill the court ; and the space outside was regularly 
 occupied by a phalanx of them in close columns, where 
 they remained from nine to six, insensible of fatigue, 
 with outstretched necks, to catch a rumour of what was 
 going on within ; and communing in muttered curses 
 with each other, as often as the report was wafted to 
 them, that the profane hand of the Attorney- General 
 was farther withdrawing the veil which had heretofore 
 enveloped the sublime mysteries of their association. 
 But I feel that I have exceeded the boundaries which 
 I had prescribed to myself, and must postpone to some 
 future letter, the detail of the events which took place 
 subsequent to the trial, and which are now passing 
 before my eyes. The Dublin election the chairing 
 the conflict between the College and the mob the 
 Beef-steak Club the Chancellor and Sir Charles Ver- 
 non, will furnish materials for my next communication.
 
 392 POLITICAL SKETCHES, 
 
 It is probable that further subjects will in the interval 
 start up. The dragon's teeth will never cease to spring 
 from this prolific soil and every hour will add to the 
 abundance of the disastrous harvest.
 
 393 
 
 STATE OF PARTIES IN DUBLIN. 
 
 [MABCH, 1823.] 
 
 MY last letter concluded with the trial of the Orange 
 rioters. While the public mind was agitated by the 
 forensic contest, a new and more abundant source of 
 bitterness was unsealed. The death of Mr. Hans 
 Hamilton (of whom I know nothing, except that I 
 have seen him read his speeches from his hat) occa- 
 sioned a vacancy in the representation of the county 
 of Dublin. Sir Compton Domville, who always voted 
 against the Catholics, was persuaded to leave the 
 retirement of private life for the silent tranquillity 
 of which he seems to be eminently fitted, and upon 
 the strength of the Orange party, backed with 
 twenty thousand pounds a-year, to offer himself as 
 an appropriate successor, which he certainly was 
 calculated to be, to the " late lamented member/* 
 Circumstances appeared to have combined for his 
 success. The Catholic interest which centered among 
 the middlemen, had seemingly been annihilated by 
 the peace, and Protestant ascendancy was seised in
 
 394 POLITICAL SKETCHES. 
 
 fee-simple of the whole county. The political epidemic, 
 which had broken out like a moral typ'hus, raged 
 through all classes, and almost every landed proprietor 
 had caught the infection. Calculating upon the entire 
 subserviency of their tenantry, the gentry of the county 
 entered into an apparently invincible combination in 
 favour of Sir Compton, who started as the champion of 
 Orangeism. The certainty of a triumph produced a 
 premature intoxication, and the anticipated election of 
 Sir Compton was held out as a test of their supremacy 
 as unequivocal as if he were already seated in the 
 House. 
 
 This preposterous vaunt wounded the pride of the 
 opposite party to the quick, and Mr. Luke Whyte was 
 not slow to perceive that the moment had at last arrived 
 for the achievement of the darling object of his am- 
 bition, in the advancement of his son to the represen- 
 tation of the county. You have not, perhaps, heard of 
 Luke "Whyte, but he is well worth a glance, and in 
 this desultory outline, I propose to give you rather a 
 sketch of the individuals engaged in the passing inci- 
 dents, than a grave and formal detail of the events in 
 which they were involved. 
 
 Luke Whyte is in, Ireland a person of considerable 
 importance, although in England he would in all likeli- 
 hood have been almost unknown. So many strange 
 and sudden productions of fortune are thrown up by 
 the rich commercial soil of England, that they seldom 
 attract a very peculiar notice; while in Ireland the 
 means of acquisition are so limited, that the wealth of 
 Luke Whyte is regarded as prodigious. The pouch 
 and paunch of the hugest alderman of Cheapside are 
 not beyond the emulation of the humblest tenant of a
 
 STATE OF PARTIES IN DUBLIN. 395 
 
 desk, who, in the nibbing of his pen, casts through a 
 dusky window an aspiring glance at the ponderous 
 citizen, and cheered by the golden model, bends with 
 alacrity to his work again ; but when the spare figure 
 of Luke Whyte glides like the ghost of Croesus through 
 College Green, where is the Hibernian shopboy who 
 ever dreamed of compassing his portentous treasures ? 
 In truth, the amazing fortune of this singularly pros- 
 perous man defeats all conjecture of the means by 
 which it could have been accumulated. Some forty 
 years ago he would have furnished matter for the 
 ecstacies of Mr. Wordsworth. If the profound author 
 of the " Excursion " had seen him in one of the pere- 
 grinations incidental to his itinerant profession, he 
 might have derived many valuable hints from so inte- 
 resting a prototype, and added to the sublime beauties 
 of that admirable poem. Its hero and Mr. Whyte 
 were of the same craft, or, to speak more appropriately 
 both with respect to Mr. Whyte and to Mr. Words- 
 worth, of the same mystery. To avoid the use of an 
 ignoble word from which the poet has studiously ab- 
 stained, and express the fact with circumlocutory dignity, 
 Mr. Whyte was no more or less than 
 
 A wandering merchant, bent beneath his load. 
 
 The latter consisted of books which he carried through 
 various parts of the country; and I have heard old 
 men say that they remember to have seen him with his 
 cargo of portable literature upon his back, toiling upon 
 a blustering day along the road, and driving a hard 
 bargain for Corderey or Cornelius Nepos at the door 
 of a village school. When he had acquired a sufficient 
 sum, through dint of his vagrant industry, to dispense
 
 396 POLITICAL SKETCHES. 
 
 with the necessity of travelling, he fixed himself in 
 more permanent importance at a stall in a small alley 
 called Crampton-court, and soon afterwards purchased 
 a shop. Book-piracy was at that time legal in Ireland, 
 and the buccaneers of literature drove a profitable trade. 
 Luke Whyte accordingly became a publisher. He 
 next engaged in speculations in the lottery, from the 
 lottery he plunged into the funds, and turned the 
 rebellion to a good account. Further I a munable to 
 retrace his progress to the golden summit on which he 
 stands ; but it is enough to say that he is now worth a 
 million of money. 
 
 He is largely endowed with good sense ; and so far 
 from blushing at the former inferiority of his station, 
 he looks back from his elevation with a sentiment of 
 honourable pride upon the road which has conducted 
 him to such an eminence. It is not a little remarkable 
 that his manners are wholly free from vulgarity, and 
 not only unaffected, but highly polished, and not with- 
 out a cast of the court. Strongly as he is attached to 
 gold, he is still more fond of power, and never allows 
 his avarice to interfere with his ambition. Previous 
 to the Dublin election he had already secured the 
 representation of the county of Leitrim for himself. 
 He next aimed at putting his son in parliament for 
 Dublin. He had failed on two occasions in a contest 
 with Colonel Talbot, and expended an immense sum of 
 money in the adventure.* The popular feelings had 
 
 * Colonel Talbot was afterwards raised to the peerage by the title of 
 Lord Talbot de Malahide. He was a man of sterling worth, public and 
 private, possessing a shrewd knowledge of the world and a taste for the 
 elegancies of literature. The cause of Catholic Emancipation had no 
 more ardent or consistent supporter. He represented the county of 
 Dublin on the popular interest in several parliaments.
 
 STATE OF PARTIES IN DUBLIN. 397 
 
 been enlisted by Colonel Talbot, and bore down the 
 thousands of his competitor, who now perceived that in 
 opposing Sir Compton Domville, he might marshal the 
 very means upon his side to which his former defeat 
 might have been attributed. Accordingly he proposed 
 his son at the hustings threw his coffers open, and 
 announced himself the champion of the Papists. 
 
 The popish party, seeing the treasures of Luke Whyte 
 unclosed, took heart at the sight, and their leaders 
 formed themselves into a committee for his support. 
 The most efficient amongst the latter was a gentleman 
 of the name of Murphy. His history may be told in 
 three words : he started in life without a guinea, fled 
 the country in 1798, came back when the troubles were 
 over, engaged in the trade of a salesmaster, and is now 
 worth 10,000/. a-year. Mr. Murphy is one of the 
 shrewdest and most energetic men in Dublin. He has 
 been turned into an aristocrat by circumstance, but is 
 by nature a republican, and looks so shrewd, so bold, 
 and dark, that he may be regarded as a kind of beau 
 ideal of Captain Rock. He felt a just indignation at 
 the insolence of the ascendancy faction, and embarked 
 with honourable ardour in the cause of Popery and 
 Whyte. With a bag of gold in one hand, and with 
 the cross in the other, Mr. Murphy was irresistible. 
 His eloquence was of a tangible sort, and was imme- 
 diately felt through the whole county. 
 
 The patriotic rhetoric of Mr. O'Connell was blended 
 with the more palpable logic of the great potentate of 
 Smithfield. The great popular orator, not contented 
 with an harangue to the multitude upon the hustings, 
 went a kind of circuit through the chapels upon the sea- 
 coast. Great numbers of the freeholders of Dublin are
 
 398 POLITICAL SKETCHES. 
 
 fishermen, who, even near the metropolis, exhibit the 
 wildness, and almost the mood, of the tempestuous 
 element from which their livelihood is obtained. They 
 of course had heard of the renowned O* Connell, but the 
 real presence of the orator had never before been pre- 
 sented to them. He addressed them in their native 
 tongue, and infused all the artifice of a long-practised 
 pleader into its rude and barbarous strength. To these 
 efforts the co-operation of the Catholic clergy was united. 
 It was urged as a matter of reproach to them that they 
 interfered ; but it was forgotten that every Protestant 
 clergyman in the county was enthusiastically devoted 
 to Sir Compton Domville, with the single and signal 
 exception of Sir Harcourt Lees, who, true to his nature, 
 if not to his opinions, gave his vote to the Popish 
 candidate. 
 
 This union of gold, patriotism, and religion, was at- 
 tended with its legitimate results ; nor is it to be much 
 wondered at, and still less perhaps is it to be deplored, that 
 the Irish peasant should, under these combined incen- 
 tives, have been debauched from that subserviency to 
 his landlord, which in the estimate of every petty 
 squire should be as uncalculating as the allegiance of 
 the ox to the driver who goads him to the stall. So 
 highly wrought was the enthusiasm of the people, that 
 in the space of a few days the opulent, and hitherto ab- 
 solute proprietors of the county, were left destitute of 
 all influence, and without the power of commanding a 
 single vote. The frieze-coated patriots, who were sent 
 in 'droves to the election-booths in order to vote for Sir 
 Compton, under the very eye and to the beard of their 
 astounded masters, flourished their shillelahs, and 
 shouted for whisky, religion, and Colonel Whyte.
 
 STATE OF PARTIES IN DUBLIN. 399 
 
 The scenes exhibited at the hustings were full of fero- 
 cious drollery. The moment a freeholder appeared at 
 them, who intimated an intention to support Sir Comp- 
 ton, he was assailed upon all sides with a strange 
 confusion of appeal. A tremendous cry was sent up by 
 the multitude O'Connell, with a stentorian voice and 
 brandished arms, bade him remember Ireland : Father 
 M'Farland exclaimed : " Will you sell your religion?" 
 while Mr. Murphy, seizing him with his brawny hand, 
 and whispering "five guineas" in his ear, completed the 
 seduction, and set him down in triumph upon the tallies 
 of Colonel Whyte. Vainly did the ominous landlord, a 
 prophet who accomplishes his own predictions, bid him 
 remember the 25th of March vainly did he foretel the 
 sale of his blanket, the starvation of his children, the 
 howling of his wife, and the freezing of the winter night. 
 Inflamed with patriotism and whisky, and heedless of 
 these portentous auguries, the half-emancipated enthu- 
 siast leaped heroically into the gulph. Then rose a peal 
 of acclamation which " frighted Chaos and old Night," 
 or, in plainer speech, astounded Lord Norbury, and 
 appalled the Corporation. 
 
 The events of even a Westminster election can give 
 you but little notion of the grotesque character of a 
 Dublin one. I have often been present at an English 
 contest, but never witnessed so fantastic a scene. The 
 native ardour of the national temperament was roused 
 into its wildest excitation every countenance glowed 
 with passion every gesture was informed with emo- 
 tion every movement was a tumult and every sound 
 an exclamation. They shouted, cursed, and stamped 
 their hands were clenched, their eyes were on fire, and 
 their mouths in foam. The whole assembly would have
 
 400 POLITICAL SKETCHES. 
 
 looked like a great collection of maniacs to some sober 
 English spectator, who, however, in retiring from the 
 uproar, would have been inclined to attribute a still 
 higher degree of delirium to the men who nurture the 
 fatal discords which generate such calamitous results. 
 
 It was not alone to the hustings that the visible re- 
 sults of the election were confined. The streets of the 
 city were filled with uproar, and while the Orangemen 
 were rejoicing at their victory in the Four Courts, the 
 Papists were indulging in an equally ferocious exultation 
 at their Kilmainham triumph. At length the friends of 
 Sir Compton advised him to relinquish the field, and 
 Why te was proclaimed the member for the county, after 
 an expense which none but his father could have sus- 
 tained. But the collision of party was not destined to 
 terminate with the contest. The populace insisted upon 
 chairing the successful candidate. An enormous mass 
 of people moved through the streets of Dublin with 
 Colonel Whyte at its head. The vast procession ex- 
 tended as far as the eye could reach. The living body 
 rolled like a great tide through the metropolis. No 
 tumult or interruption occurred until the people had 
 reached the gates of the College, and suddenly a large 
 quantity of stones and bricks was flung from the roofs 
 of the building upon the multitude below. Several 
 severe wounds were inflicted in the performance of this 
 academic exploit. -The mob, infuriated at the unpro- 
 voked aggression, burst through the iron railing which 
 divides the area before the College from the street, and 
 seized upon certain unhappy loiterers, who would pro- 
 bably have been sacrificed to their fury, had not some 
 of the more respectable persons in the crowd interfered 
 for their preservation. This circumstance may appear
 
 STATE OF PARTIES IN DUBLIN. 401 
 
 trivial in itself, but it was one of the many symptoms of 
 the inveterate detestation which was rapidly growing up, 
 and has been since matured between the two parties in 
 Ireland. 
 
 I pass from the election to the Beef-steak Club 
 singular transition ! and yet it scarcely illustrates the 
 art of sinking. Whatever bathos may be in its title, 
 the Beef-steak Club is not without importance in a 
 country where the most momentous results originate 
 from the obscurest source. This society was established 
 in Dublin by a Mr. M'Caskey. The love of music was 
 the ostensible object of the association, but the rites of 
 Apollo were speedily blended with the adoration of a 
 more exhilarating god. These fanatics in music soon 
 exhibited an enthusiasm of a very oposite kind : as was 
 natural in Ireland, the professors of harmony became 
 the propagators of discord. A few years ago the politi- 
 cal feelings of the club were manifested in rather a re- 
 markable way. A nobleman, so distinguished at the 
 Kilkenny theatricals for the fidelity of his representa- 
 tions in the parts of ostlers and of grooms, that it was 
 supposed that Nature and Fortune must have quarrelled 
 at his nativity, proposed from the chair of this society, 
 in the midst of one of its boisterous orgies, a toast, the 
 malice of which can only be surpassed by its absurdity. 
 It ran to this effect " The Pope in the pillory, pelted 
 by the Devil with the heads of priests," together with 
 other concomitants, which I shall not soil the paper by 
 inditing. 
 
 Of this society the Lord Chancellor is a zealous and 
 conspicuous member. This nobleman is the creature 
 of impulse, and having been educated in England in 
 high-church principles, and surrounded upon his arrival 
 
 VOL. i. 2 D
 
 402 POLITICAL SKETCHES. 
 
 in Ireland with the menials of the Castle, derived an 
 unhappy confirmation in his impassioned biasses, from 
 those whose interest it was to bring forth the seeds of 
 Orangeism which had been originally deposited in his 
 mind. His ardent temperament abandoned itself en- 
 tirely to their seductions, and he became the chief and 
 avowed protector of the anti-Irish party in Ireland. 
 He is by nature and by habit an inveterate Tory ; and, 
 indeed, has so strong a cast of the Stuart family, with 
 which he is connected, and is withal so spare and spectral, 
 that he looks like the phantom of the departed dynasty. 
 Upon his qualifications to fill his high judicial situation, 
 it would be foreign to my purpose to pronounce ; it is 
 enough to say, that he is an unqualified supporter of 
 Protestant prerogative ; that he has a horror of " Popery 
 and wooden shoes," and that, while he discards the 
 miracles of Prince Hohenloe, he would not, for the 
 Chancellorship of Great Britain, sit down at dinner 
 with a party of thirteen. The meetings of the Beef- 
 steak Club being free from this numerical omen, 
 Lord Manners readily consented to join their political 
 festivities at a moment when the spirit of faction raged 
 with the utmost intensity, and virtually presided at one 
 of the Orange feasts, which was held in the midst of all 
 the uproar of party which I have just described. 
 
 How far his association with the proselytes of 
 Mr. M'Caskey may be consistent with the dignity of 
 the house of Rutland and the keeper of the seals, 
 I shall not venture to decide; but it did certainly 
 appear not a little singular that a man having so large 
 a share in the government of the country, and an 
 influence almost co-extensive with that of Lord Wellesley 
 himself, should in such a crisis have descended to a
 
 STATE OF PAETIES IN DUBLIN. 403 
 
 convivial familiarity with the political zealots who 
 frequented this obnoxious club; and should by his 
 presence have extended an implied approbation to the 
 principles and feelings which they unequivocally ex- 
 pressed. A very numerous assembly of the subscribers 
 was convened; champagne and claret circulated with 
 rapidity, and when the votaries of Apollo had been 
 roused to the just level of enthusiasm, the chairman 
 proposed as a toast "The exports of Ireland." The 
 rumours which had previously prevailed of the contem- 
 plated removal of Lord Wellesley, suggested to every 
 person present that the toast was given in allusion to 
 that measure, and it was hailed accordingly with votive 
 acclamation. 
 
 There is a passage in the letters of Lord Essex, 
 written when he was Lord Lieutenant of Ireland, so 
 immediately appropriate to the state of Protestant 
 feeling at this moment, that I cannot forbear from 
 transcribing it. It falls, indeed, into a very remarkable 
 coincidence with the situation of Lord "Wellesley. 
 Lord Essex, in page 35 of the volume of his letters, 
 says : " The reports which every day are transmitted 
 hither from England of my remove, is the principal 
 cause of their stubbornness ; and, indeed, it is a mis- 
 fortune to His Majesty's affairs that such rumours are 
 spread, for I do not believe that under the sun there 
 are a people more apt to despise their governors than 
 some here are, and will, if they have any imagination 
 that they are to be recalled." 
 
 This sentiment, which appears to be almost indigenous 
 in Ireland, was illustrated at the period of which I am 
 speaking; and when "The exports of Ireland" was 
 given as a toast from the chair of the Beef-steak Club,
 
 404 POLITICAL SKETCHES. 
 
 it -was loudly and rapturously cheered by those who 
 found in the toast an occasion for venting their gratifi- 
 cation at the anticipated exportation of the noble 
 Marquis, which was more strenuously desired by the 
 Orangemen than his demi-measures and oscillating 
 policy appeared to justify. There could be no doubt 
 that it was intended to apply to Lord Wellesley, 
 although the Chancellor afterwards stated, in his own 
 defence, that it admitted of a different interpretation. 
 If the question of construction had been regularly 
 discussed in his Lordship's court, it would in all proba- 
 bility have afforded a field for the exercise of much 
 ingenious ratiocination : but in the public mind no 
 doubt existed as to the intent of the parties. 
 
 The anger of the noble Marquis at this immediately 
 personal affront, was said to be unbounded. The vice- 
 regal irritation was speedily embodied in a measure of 
 domestic and summary retribution. Three ill-starred 
 officers of the Castle happened to have attended at the 
 obnoxious club, when the anti-Wellesley toast was 
 given. I have forgotten the name of one of them, 
 which has nothing to fix it in the memory. Sir Charles 
 Vernon, the gentleman-usher, and the ex-officio fan- 
 holder to the " Ladies Lieutenant" (we are now happily 
 relieved from these mock and mob-led queens*), and 
 Mr. Stanhope, the brother-in-law of the Duke of 
 Leinster, were the other unhappy wights who had the 
 misfortune to attest these symbolical expressions of 
 dislike. On the following day they were dismissed. 
 This proceeding produced a singular sensation. Fami- 
 
 * This was written before the Marquis of Wellesley's marriage. The 
 citizens of Dublin still persist in giving the style and title of Lady 
 Lieutenant to the wives of their beloved viceroys.
 
 STATE OP PARTIES IN DUBLIN. 405 
 
 liarized as the ' Orangemen were with the tameness 
 of the administration, they were astounded at what 
 appeared to be so bold and adventurous a step. Those 
 who held no place were loud in their invectives against 
 the autocratic character of the Marquis's resentment. 
 They forgot, or rather they affected not to remember^ 
 that under the constitutional administration of the 
 Duke of Richmond, the brother of the very Mr. Stanhope 
 (who was now discharged) had been deprived of the 
 very same office, for attending a dinner given by the 
 Roman Catholics of Dublin, at which nothing offensive 
 had taken place. Such are the incongruities of faction. 
 
 This expulsion of three placemen produced upon 
 their brethren in office a different effect. While those 
 who had nothing to lose were loud in their reprobation, 
 the underlings of authority the petty tenants of office 
 the menials of the Custom House and the Post 
 Office, stood silent and aghast. The name of Lord 
 Wellesley, which had before been a standing jest, and 
 furnished matter for relaxation among the clerks in 
 every public office in Dublin, was no longer pronounced 
 in those abodes of alternate insolence and subserviency. 
 There prevailed over those domiciles of inferior Orange- 
 ism "a death-like silence and a dread repose." Nor 
 was this sentiment confined to the humble dandies of 
 the quill. It extended itself even to the parasitical 
 expectants at the Bar ; and the birds of prey, whose 
 vulture sagacity had long scented the demise of some 
 paralytic chairman of a county, or of some apoplectic 
 Master in Chancery, moulted many a feather. It was 
 supposed that farther dismissals would take place, and 
 the apprehension produced a dismal taciturnity for a 
 considerable time. 
 
 VOL. i. 2 n 3
 
 406 POLITICAL SKETCHES. 
 
 But at length the countenances of the Williatnites 
 began to clear up they resumed the use of the organ 
 of invective, and were gradually restored to the enjoy- 
 ment of that factious loquacity which serves to exhi- 
 larate the labours of the fiscal desk. They saw that 
 Lord Wellesley had indulged in a just resentment of 
 an individual affront, but that his indignation was not 
 tinged by any political vindictiveness ; and relied upon 
 the evidence of impunity afforded in the example of a 
 gentleman who had been engaged in the theatrical riot, 
 and who continued to hold and still enjoys many 
 lucrative situations, from which the Government did not 
 dare to remove him.* The passions which had been 
 repressed by a temporary barrier, burst through it with 
 an augmented force. The imperfect effort at indepen- 
 dence made by the Irish Government was designated 
 as an act of Oriental autocracy, and the fate of Sir 
 Charles Vernon afforded an ample field for reprobatory 
 exclamation. He had acquired the liking of the ordi- 
 nary frequenters of the Castle, and possessed all the 
 talents requisite for his vocation. The motley per- 
 sonage, who charmed the melancholy Jaques in the 
 forest of Ardennes, could not surpass him in his 
 adaptation to his office ; and so wide and genuine was 
 his popularity amongst a certain class, that it might 
 have been aptly said upon his dismissal, 
 
 MiniED, balatrones hoc genus omne 
 
 Moestum ac solicitum est. 
 
 * The forhearancc of Lord Wellesley's administration is remarkable. 
 The instance above mentioned deserves notice, but a circumstance which 
 recently occurred is still more singular. Lord Wellesley lately dined 
 with the Corporation, and among the persons officially employed to pre- 
 side at the dinner and lead his Lordship into the banquet-room, was one 
 of the chief rioters at the theatre.
 
 STATE OF PARTIES IN DUBLIN. 407 
 
 The solicitude for the fate of the Dublin Tigellius 
 was not, however, confined to persons of this caste, but 
 reached to nobler bosoms. A certain conspicuous 
 octogenarian dropped tears of rheum upon hearing of 
 his fate, and vowed by her widowhood that she would 
 never enter the Castle again. Lord Manners also 
 expressed an equally unqualified resentment. The 
 natural good-nature of his lordship was moved by 
 Vernon's misfortunes, and he also felt this discharge 
 from the vice-regal service as an indirect rebuke to 
 himself. It was said that his lordship expressed great 
 and loud irritation, and rumours were dispersed that 
 either Lord Wellesley or Lord Manners would leave 
 the country. It is certain that the latter wrote letters 
 of bitter complaint to the heads of his own family 
 and to the leaders of the high-church party in 
 England. 
 
 I have heard from good authority that the Duke of 
 Rutland, Lord Lonsdale, and one or two of the other 
 great proprietors in the House of Commons, held a 
 meeting in London, and deliberated upon the means 
 of effecting the removal of Lord Wellesley, but 
 having felt the sense of the Lower House, they aban- 
 doned the proposed measure, and determined to com- 
 promise the differences between the noble lords. 
 Neither of the latter could afford to indulge in anv 
 
 |0 
 
 very practical resentment, and consented to retain 
 their stations upon the pathetic and conclusive plea 
 of Shakspeare's apothecary. Accordingly a fantastic 
 kind of accommodation was effected between them. 
 Poor Sir C.harles, however, was not included in this 
 prudential negotiation, and fell gradually into oblivion. 
 The bells upon his cap were no longer heard at the
 
 408 POLITICAL SKETCHES. 
 
 Castle. His practical jokes, his innocent caricatures, 
 and innocuous buffooneries, were no longer remembered; 
 and what is much more deserving of regret, his 
 domestic virtues were forgotten in the reconciliation 
 of the great contending personages. The latter readily 
 compromised their differences under the salutary 
 influence of reciprocal convenience. The facility of 
 the adjustment excited some surprise; but much 
 greater astonishment was produced by the event which 
 almost immediately succeeded. 
 
 The insult offered to Lord Wellesley was marked 
 and unequivocal. So deeply had it penetrated into the 
 very core and vitals of his pride, that he had instan- 
 taneously dismissed the dependents upon whom his 
 resentment could be practically exemplified. What, 
 think you, was the issue of the viceregal exasperation ? 
 You will start at the bare mention of the fact. The 
 brother of the Duke of Wellington, the conqueror of 
 Tippoo Saib, the moving spirit of the Spanish war 
 the lofty statesman, the impassioned orator, and the 
 philosophical politician he who, upon his first arrival 
 in this country, had united the suffrages of the British 
 empire, and seemed to be of all men the best qualified 
 for an undertaking in which sagacity and elevation 
 were to be combined he, galled and blistered as he 
 was by a wanton and deliberate offence, selected this 
 convocation of wassailers for an especial mark of favour, 
 and, uninvited, announced his intention to dine with 
 the Beef-steak Club. 
 
 This communication from the Castle was at first 
 received as an idle rumour. The liberal party ex- 
 claimed, "It is impossible! True it is that he made 
 a baronet of the man who was the first to violate the
 
 STATE OF PARTIES IN DUBLIN. 409 
 
 King's commands ; it is true that he shook hands with 
 Alderman Thorpe; it is true that he has flattered, 
 without cajoling the Corporation; and for all this there 
 is, perhaps, an extenuation, if not an excuse : he has 
 been driven by the exigency of circumstances to a 
 thousand acts, from which his principles as a statesman, 
 and his own noble instincts, must have made him 
 shrink. But that he should dine with the Beef-steak 
 Club ! the thing's impossible !" With such expressions 
 of indignant incredulity this report was received. Yet 
 it gradually gained ground upon the public disbelief, 
 and at last the day on which these novel festivities 
 were to take place, was formally and authentically pro- 
 claimed. The day arrived, and Lord Wellesley sat in 
 the midst of the Orange orgies, by the side of the very 
 man with whom he had just declared that he could no 
 longer act in concert in the government of Ireland. 
 
 The triumph of Lord Manners was complete. Even 
 his accustomed urbanity could not prevent him from 
 indulging in some partial expression of superiority. His 
 black eyes glistened with more than their usual fire ; a 
 deeper shade of orange was infused into his complexion: 
 his Stuart smile assumed a more lordly courtesy. With 
 the exception of the immediate suite of the Lord Lieu- 
 tenant, there was scarcely one friend of his in the whole 
 assembly the tables were lined with men who eyed 
 the noble Marquis with an expression in which hatred 
 appeared to have given way to a less vehement emotion. 
 
 The evening passed slowly and heavily away, and in 
 place of the usual bustle and clamorous jocularity which 
 accompany such assemblies, a certain dullness, arising 
 from the consciousness of restraint, prevailed over the 
 meeting. Lord Wellesley affected high spirits, but it
 
 410 POLITICAL SKETCHES. 
 
 was easy to perceive that he was personating a part, 
 which he felt at last that he ought not to have under- 
 taken. He was not actually insulted to his face, 
 although he took a sudden offence at some phrases of 
 the Lord Chancellor, who, in pronouncing judgment 
 upon the excellence and utility of the Beef-steak Club, 
 congratulated Lord Wellesley upon the opportunity 
 which he enjoyed of relaxing, amidst these recreative 
 convocations, from the rigour and austerity of his 
 political labours. The latter imagined, but I believe 
 erroneously, that something disrespectful was intended, 
 and suddenly started at the banquet at the ghost of his 
 own dignity. The Chancellor assured him that he was 
 under an erroneous impression ; and he rested ap- 
 parently contented with the explanation. 
 
 Nothing remarkable occurred until the hour for Lord 
 Wellesley's departure, which was anxiously expected by 
 the company, had arrived. They had entered into a 
 stipulation that "The exports of Ireland" should not 
 be drunk in his presence, and waited for the moment of 
 his departure to indulge in this contumelious toast. At 
 length he signified his intention to retire: the whole 
 assembly rose he walked through the files of Orange- 
 men upon each side, and bowed as he passed along. He 
 reached the door, while every glass was filling to the 
 brim; and scarce had he crossed the threshold, when 
 " The exports of Ireland" was given, and received with 
 loud and vivacious acclamations. 
 
 The noble Marquis hurried down stairs, with the 
 shouts of laughter, which proceeded from the meeting, 
 ringing in his ears, and returned to the Castle after an 
 effort of conciliation, which, whatever may be thought 
 of it in a political point of view, must be regarded as a
 
 STATE OF PARTIES IN DUBLIN. 411 
 
 pattern of Christian virtue, in which the precept of for- 
 giveness was carried to a point of perfection that excited 
 as much wonder as admiration. Those who had formed 
 an estimate of his character from his Oriental achieve- 
 ments, expected that his descent in the "West would be 
 attended with a scarcely inferior lustre. It was hoped 
 that he would leave behind him a track of illumination 
 which would be long reflected by his country. It is 
 possible that some beam of light may yet break through 
 the dimness in which he is enveloped, but hitherto we 
 have only had occasion to contrast his glory in the East 
 with the clouded setting of his renown. 
 
 While these incidents were taking place, the ex- At- 
 torney-general, Mr. Saurin .... But I have exceeded 
 my limits, and must postpone a detail of the events 
 which were produced by the agency of that once 
 important, and still remarkable person. 
 
 END OF VOL. I.
 
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 DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE OP 
 
 SAMUEL PEPTS, F.R.S., 
 
 SECRETARY TO THE ADMIRALTY IN THE REIGNS OF CHARLES II. 
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 a considerable portion of the seventeenth century, has been 
 so fully acknowledged by every scholar and critic, that it 
 is now scarcely necessary to remind the reader of the ad- 
 vantages he possessed for producing the most complete and 
 trustworthy record of events, and the most agreeable picture 
 of society and manners, to be found in the literature of any 
 nation. In confidential communication with the reigning 
 sovereigns, holding high official employment, placed at the 
 head of the Scientific and Learned of a period remarkable 
 for intellectual impulse, mingling in every circle, and ob- 
 serving everything and everybody whose characteristics were 
 worth noting down; and possessing, moreover, an intelli- 
 gence peculiarly fitted for seizing the most graphic points in 
 whatever he attempted to delineate, PEPYS may be considered 
 the most valuable as well as the most entertaining of our 
 National Historians. 
 
 A New and Cheap Edition of this work, comprising all the 
 restored passages and the additional annotations that have 
 been called for by the vast advances in antiquarian and his- 
 torical knowledge during the last twenty years, will doubtless 
 be regarded as one of the most agreeable additions that could 
 be made to the library of the general reader.
 
 OPINIONS OF THE PRESS ON PEPYS' DIARY. 
 
 FROM THE EDINBURGH REVIEW. 
 
 u Without making any exception in favour of any other production 
 of ancient or modern diarists, we unhesitatingly characterise this journal 
 as the most remarkable production of its kind which has ever been 
 given to the world. Pepys' Diary makes us comprehend the great 
 historical events of the age, and the people who bore a part in them, 
 and gives us more clear glimpses into the true English life of the times 
 than all the other memorials of them that have come down to our own." 
 
 FROM THE QUARTERLY REVIEW. 
 
 "There is much in Pepys' Diary that throws a distinct and vivid 
 light over the picture of England and its government during the period 
 succeeding the Restoration. If, quitting the broad path of history, we 
 look for minute information concerning ancient manners and customs, 
 the progress of arts and sciences, and the various branches of antiquity, 
 we have never seen a mine so rich as these volumes. The variety of 
 Pepys' tastes and pursuits led him into almost every department of 
 life. He was a man of business, a man of information, a man of whim, 
 and, to a certain degree, a man of pleasure. He was a statesman, a 
 bel-esprit, a virtuoso, and a connoisseur. His curiosity made him an 
 unwearied, as well as an universal, learner, and whatever he saw found 
 its way into his tablets." 
 
 FROM THE ATHENAEUM. 
 
 "The best book of its kind in the English language. The new 
 matter is extremely curious, and occasionally far more characteristic 
 and entertaining than the old. The writer is seen in a clearer light, 
 and the reader is taken into his inmost soul. Pepys' Diary is the ablest 
 picture of the age in which the writer lived, and a work of standard im- 
 portance in English literature." 
 
 FROM THE EXAMINER. 
 
 " We place a high value on Pepys' Diary as the richest and most 
 delightful contribution ever made to the history of English life and 
 manners in the latter half of the seventeenth century." 
 
 FROM TAIT'8 MAGAZINE. 
 
 " We owe Pepys a debt of gratitude for the rare and curious informa- 
 tion he has bequeathed to us in this most amusing and interesting work. 
 HU Diary is valuable, as depicting to us many of the most important 
 characters of the times. Its author has bequeathed to us the records of 
 his heart the very reflection of his energetic mind ; and his quaint but 
 happy narrative clears up numerous disputed points throws light into 
 many of the dark corners of history, and lays bare the hidden substratum 
 of events which gave birth to, and supported the visible progress of, the 
 nation." 
 
 FROM THE MORNING PO8T. 
 
 " Of all the records that have ever been published, Pepys' Diary 
 gives us the most vivid and trustworthy picture of the times, and the 
 clearest view of the state of English public affairs and of English 
 society during the reign of Charles II. We see there, as in a map, 
 the vices of the monarch, the intrigues of the Cabinet, the wanton follies 
 
 f the court, and the many calamities to which the nation was subjected 
 during the memorable period of fire, plague, and general licentiousness."
 
 IMPORTANT NEW HISTORICAL WORK. 
 
 Now ready, in 2 vols. post Svo, embellished with Portraits, price 2 Is. bound, 
 
 BY MRS. MATTHEW HALL. 
 
 OPINIONS OF THE PRESS. 
 
 FROM THE LITERARY GAZETTE. 
 
 " Mrs. Hall's work presents a clear and connected series of records of the early 
 female sovereigns of England, of whom only a few scattered anecdotes have 
 hitherto been familiarly known to general readers. The book is of great interest, 
 as containing many notices of English life and manners in the remote times of 
 oar British, Roman, Saxon, and Danish ancestors." 
 
 SUNDAY TIMES. 
 
 " These volumes open up a new and interesting page of history to the majority 
 of readers. What Miss Strickland has achieved for English Queens since the 
 Norman era, has been accomplished by Mrs. Hall on behalf of the royal ladies 
 who, as wives of Saxon kings, have influenced the destinies of Britain." 
 
 SUN. 
 
 " Mrs. Hall may be congratulated on having successfully accomplished a very 
 arduous undertaking. Her volumes form a useful introduction to the usual 
 commencement of English history." 
 
 CRITIC. 
 
 " The most instructive history we possess of the prse-Conquest period. It 
 should take its place by the side of Miss Strickland's ' Lives of the Queens.' " 
 
 OBSERVER. 
 
 " Of all our female historicc-biographical writers, Mrs. Hall seems to us to be 
 one of the most painstaking, erudite, and variously and profoundly accomplished. 
 Her valuable volumes contain not only the lives of the Queens before the Con- 
 quest, but a very excellent history of England previously to the Norman 
 dynasty." 
 
 BELL'S MESSENGER. 
 
 " These interesting volumes have been compiled with judgment, discretion, 
 and taste. Mrs. Hall has spared neither pains nor labour to make her history 
 worthy of the characters she has essayed to illustrate. The book is, in every 
 sense, an addition of decided value to the annals of the British people." 
 
 NEW QUARTERLY REVIEW. 
 
 " These volumes have long been a desideratum, and will be hailed as a useful, 
 and indeed essential, introduction to Miss Strickland's world-famous biographical 
 history."
 
 THE PEERAGE AND BARONETAGE 
 
 OF THE BEITISH EMPIKE. 
 
 BY SIR BERNARD BURKE, 
 
 ULSTER KING OF ARMS. 
 
 A NEW EDITION, REVISED AND CORRECTED FROM 
 
 THE PERSONAL COMMUNICATIONS OF 
 
 THE NOBILITY, &c. 
 
 With 1500 Engravings of ARMS. In I vol. (comprising as much matter 
 as twenty ordinary volumes), 38s. bound. 
 
 The following is a List of the Principal Contents of this Standard Work: 
 
 I. A full and interesting history of 
 each order of the English Nobility, 
 shoeing its origin, rise, titles, immu- 
 nities, privileges, &c. 
 
 II. A complete Memoir of the Queen 
 and Royal Family, forming a brief 
 genealogical History of the Sovereign of 
 this country, and deducing the descent 
 of the Plantagenets, Tudors, Stuarts, 
 and Guelphs, through their various 
 ramifications. To this section is ap- 
 pended a list of those Peers and others 
 who inherit the distinguished honour 
 of Quartering the Royal Arms of 
 Plantagenet. 
 
 III. An Authentic table of Precedence. 
 
 IV. A perfect HISTORY OF ALL THE 
 PEERS AND BARONETS, with the 
 fullest details of their ancestors and 
 descendants, and particulars respecting 
 every collateral member of each family, 
 and all intermarriages, &c. 
 
 V. The Spiritual Lords. 
 
 VI. Foreign Noblemen, subjects by 
 birth of the British Crown. 
 
 VII. Extinct Peerages, of which 
 descendants still exist. 
 
 VIII. Peerages claimed. 
 
 IX. Surnames of Peers and Peeresses, 
 with Heirs Apparent and Presumptive. 
 
 X. Courtesy titles of Eldest Sons. 
 
 XI. Peerages of the Three Kingdoms 
 in order of Precedence. 
 
 XII. Baronets in order of Precedence. 
 
 XIII. Privy Councillors of England 
 and Ireland. 
 
 XIV. Daughters of Peers married to 
 Commoners. 
 
 XV. ALL THE OKDERS OF KNIGHT- 
 HOOD, with every Knight and all the 
 Knights Bachelors. 
 
 XVI. Mottoes translated, with poeti- 
 cal illustrations. 
 
 " The most complete, the most convenient, and the cheapest work of the kind 
 ever given to the public." Sun. 
 
 " The best genealogical and heraldic dictionary of the Peerage and Baronetage, 
 and the first authority on all questions affecting the aristocracy." Globe. 
 
 " For the amazing quantity of personal and family history, admirable arrange- 
 ment of details, and accuracy of information, this genealogical and heraldic 
 Dictionary is without a rival. It is now the standard and acknowledged book of 
 reference upon all questions touching pedigree, and direct or collateral affinity 
 with the titled aristocracy. The lineage of each distinguished house is deduced 
 through all the various ramifications. Every collateral branch, however remotely 
 connected, is introduced ; and the alliances are so carefully inserted, as to show, 
 in all instances, the connexion which so intimately exists between the titled and 
 unfilled aristocracy. We have also much most entertaining historical matter, 
 nd many very curious and interesting family traditions. The work is, in fact, a 
 complete cyclopedia of the whole titled classes of the empire, supplying all the 
 information that can possibly be desired on the subject." Morning Post.
 
 CHEAP EDITION OF THE 
 DIARY AND COEEESPONDENCE OP 
 
 JOHN EVELYN, F.R.S. 
 
 Now completed, with Portraits, in Four Volumes, post octavo (either of 
 which may be had separately}, price 6s. each, handsomely bound, 
 
 COMPRISING ALL THE IMPORTANT ADDITIONAL NOTES, LETTERS, AND OTHER 
 ILLUSTRATIONS LAST MADE. 
 
 " We rejoice to welcome this beautiful and compact edition of Evelyn. It is 
 intended as a companion to the recent edition of Pepys, and presents similar claims 
 to interest and notice. . Evelyn was greatly above the vast majority of his con- 
 temporaries, and the Diary which records the incidents in his long life, extending 
 over the greater part of a century, is deservedly esteemed one of the most valuable 
 and interesting books in the language. Evelyn took part in the breaking out of 
 the civil war against Charles I., and he lived to see William of Orange ascend the 
 throne. Through the days of Strafford and Laud, to those of Sancroft and Ken, he 
 was the steady friend of moderation and peace in the English Church. He 
 interceded alike for the royalist and the regicide ; he was the correspondent of 
 Cowley, the patron of Jeremy Taylor, the associate and fellow-student of Boyle ; 
 and over all the interval between Vandyck and Kneller, between the youth of 
 Milton and the old age of Dryden, poetry and the arts found him an intelligent 
 adviser, and a cordial friend. There are, on the whole, very few men of whom 
 England has more reason to be proud. He stands among the first in the list of 
 Gentlemen. We heartily commend so good an edition of this English classic." 
 Examiner. 
 
 " This work is a necessary companion to the popular histories of our country, 
 to Hume, Hallam, Macaulay, and Lingard. Sun. 
 
 LIYES OF THE PRINCESSES OF ENGLAND. 
 
 By MRS. EVERETT GREEN, 
 
 EDITOR OF THE " LETTERS OF ROYAL AND ILLUSTRIOUS LADIES." 
 
 5 vols., post 8vo, with Illustrations, 10s. 6d. each, bound. 
 %* One Volume more will complete the Series. 
 
 " This work is a worthy companion to Miss Strickland's admirable ' Queens 
 of England.' That celebrated work, although its heroines were, for the most 
 part, foreign Princesses, related almost entirely to the history of this country. 
 The Princesses of England, on the contrary, are themselves English, but their 
 lives are nearly all connected with foreign nations. Their biographies, conse- 
 quently, afford us a glimpse of the manners and customs of the chief European 
 kingdoms, a circumstance which not only gives to the work the charm of variety, 
 but which is likely to render it peculiarly useful to the general reader, as it links 
 together by association the contemporaneous history of various nations. We 
 cordially commend Mrs. Green's production to general attention ; it is (neces- 
 sarily) as useful as history, and fully as entertaining as romance." Sun.
 
 10 INTERESTING WORKS 
 
 SER B. BUBKE'S DICTIONAET OF THE 
 
 EXTINCT, DORMANT, AND ABEYANT PEERAGES 
 
 OF ENGLAND, SCOTLAND, AND IRELAND. 
 
 Beautifully printed, in 1 voL 8vo, containing 800 double-column pages, 
 21s. bound. 
 
 This work connects, in many instances, the new with the old nobility, and it 
 will in all cases show the cause which has influenced the revival of an extinct 
 dignity in a new creation. It should be particularly noticed, that this new work 
 appertains nearly as much to extant as to extinct persons of distinction; for 
 though dignities pass away, it rarely occurs that whole families do. 
 
 HISTORY OF THE LANDED GENTRY. 
 & Genealogical Bicttonarg 
 
 OF THE WHOLE OF THE UNTITLED ARISTOCRACY 
 OF ENGLAND, SCOTLAND, AND IRELAND. 
 
 By SIR BERNARD BURKE. 
 A new and improved Edition, in 1 vol., uniform with the " Peerage." 
 
 (7* THE PURCHASERS of the earlier editions of the Dictionary of the Landed 
 Gentry are requested to take notice that 
 
 A COPIOUS INDEX 
 
 lias been compiled with great care and at great expense, containing REFERENCES 
 
 TO THE NAMES OF EVERY PERSON ( Upwards of 100,000) MENTIONED IN THE 
 
 WORK, and may be had bound uniformly with the work: price, 5s. 
 
 ROMANTIC RECORDS OF THE ARISTOCRACY. 
 
 By SIR BERNARD BURKE. 
 SECOSD ASD CHEATER EDITION, 2 vols., post 8vo, 21s. bound. 
 
 " The most curious incidents, the most stirring tales, and the most remarkable 
 circumstances connected with the histories, public and private, of our noble houses 
 and aristocratic families, are here given in a shape which will preserve them 
 in the library, and render them the favourite study of those who are interested 
 in the romance of real life. These stories, with all the reality of establish ed fact, 
 rwd with as much spirit as the tales of Boccaccio, and are as full of strange 
 matter for reflection and amazement" Britannia.
 
 PUBLISHED FOB HENRY COLBURN. 
 
 MEMOIRS OF HORACE WALPOLE. 
 
 EDITED BY 
 
 ELIOT WARBURTON. 
 
 Cheaper Edition, in 2 vols. 8vo, with Portraits, 16s. bound. 
 
 " These Memoirs form a necessary addition to the library of every English 
 gentleman. They nearly complete the chain of mixed personal, political, and 
 literary history, commencing with 'Evelyn' and 'Pepys,' and ending almost in 
 our own day with the histories of Mr. Macaulay and Lord Mahon." Standard. 
 
 THE LIFE AND REIGN OF CHARLES I. 
 
 By I. DISKAELI. 
 
 A NEW EDITION. REVISED BY THE AUTHOR, AND EDITED BY 
 HIS SON, THE RT. HON. B. DISRAELI, M.P. 2 vols., 8vo, 28s. bound. 
 
 " By far the most important work on the important age of Charles I. that 
 modern tunes Jiave produced." Quarterly Review. 
 
 IATE BISHOP OF PISTOIA AND PEATO; 
 
 BEFOBMEB OF CATHOLICISM IN TUSCANY. 
 
 Cheaper Edition, 2 yols. 8vo, 12s. bound. 
 
 The leading feature of this important work is its application to the great 
 question now at issue between our Protestant and Catholic fellow-subjects. It 
 contains a complete expose of the Romish Church Establishment during the 
 eighteenth century, and of the abuses of the Jesuits throughout the greater 
 part of Europe. Many particulars of the most thrilling kind are brought to 
 light. 
 
 HISTORIC SCENES. 
 
 By AGNES STEICKLAND. 
 
 Author of " Lives of the Queens of England," Sec. 1 vol., post 8vo, 
 
 elegantly bound, with Portrait of the Author, 10s. 6d. 
 " This attractive volume is replete with interest. Like Miss Strickland's 
 former works, it will be found, we doubt not, in the hands of youthful branches 
 of a family as well as in those of their parents, to all and each of whom it 
 cannot fail to be alike amusing and instructive." Britannia. 
 
 MEMOIRS OF LADY JANE GREY. 
 
 By SIE HAKEIS NICOLAS. 1 vol. 8vo, bound, 6s.
 
 12 INTERESTING WORKS 
 
 MEMOIRS OF PRINCE ALBERT; 
 
 AND THE HOUSE OF SAXONY. 
 
 Second Edition, revised, with Additions, by Authority. 
 1 vol., post 8vo, with Portrait, bound, 6s. 
 
 REVELATIONS OF PRINCE TALLEYRAND. 
 
 Second Edition, 1 volume, post 8vo, with Portrait, 10s. 6d. bound. 
 
 " We have perused this work with extreme interest. It is a portrait of Tal- 
 leyrand drawn by his own hand." Morning Post. 
 
 " A more interesting work has not issued from the press for many years. It is 
 in truth a most complete Boswell sketch of the greatest diplomatist of the age." 
 Sunday Times. 
 
 MADAME CAMPAN'S MEMOIRS 
 
 OF THE COURT OF MARIE ANTOINETTE. 
 
 Cheaper Edition, 2 vols. 8vo, with Portraits, price 7s. 
 
 " We have seldom perused so entertaining a work. It is as a mirror of the 
 most splendid Court in Europe, at a time when the monarchy had not been shorn 
 of any of its beams, that it is particularly worthy of attention." Chronicle. 
 
 LIFE AND LETTERS OF THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE. 
 
 3 vols., small 8vo, 15s. 
 
 "A curious and entertaining piece of domestic biography of a most extra- 
 ordinary person, under circumstances almost unprecedented." New Monthly. 
 
 _ " An extremely amusing book, full of anecdotes and traits of character of 
 kings, princes, nobles, generals," Sx.Morninff Journal. 
 
 MEMOIRS OF A HUNGARIAN LADY. 
 MADAME PULSZKY. 
 
 WRITTEN BY HERSELF. 2 vols., 12s. bound. 
 
 "Worthy of a place by the side of the Memoirs of Madame de Stael and 
 Madame Campan.' 1 Globe. 
 
 MEMOIRS OF A GREEK LADY, 
 
 THE ADOPTED DAUGHTEK OF THE LATE 
 QUEEN CAROLINE. 
 
 WRITTEN BY HERSELF. 2 vols., post 8vo, price 12s. bound.
 
 PUBLISHED FOR HENRY COLBURN. 1 3 
 
 Now ready, PART XL, price 5s., of 
 
 M. A. THIERS' HISTORY OF FRANCE 
 
 UNDER NAPOLEON. 
 
 A SEQUEL TO HIS HISTORY OF THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. 
 
 As guardian to the archives of the state, SI. Thiers had access to diplomatic 
 papers and other documents of the highest importance, hitherto known only to a 
 privileged few. From private sources M. Thiers has also derived much valuable 
 information. Many interesting memoirs, diaries, and letters, all hitherto unpub- 
 lished, and most of them destined for political reasons to remain so, have been 
 placed at his disposal ; while all the leading characters of the empire, who were 
 alive when the author undertook the present history, have supplied him with a 
 mass of incidents and anecdotes which nave never before appeared in print. 
 
 N.B. Any of the Parts may, for the present, be had separately, at 5s. each ; 
 and subscribers are recommended to complete their sets as soon as possible, to 
 prevent disappointment. 
 
 ** The public are requested to be particular in giving their orders for 
 " COLBCRN'S AUTHORISED TRANSLATION." 
 
 RUSSIA UNDER THE AUTOCRAT NICHOLAS I. 
 
 BY IVAN GOLOVINE, A RUSSIAN SUBJECT. 
 Cheaper Edition, 2 vols., with a full-length Portrait of the 
 
 Emperor, 10s. bound. 
 
 " These are volumes of an extremely interesting nature, emanating from the 
 pen of a Russian, noble by birth, who has escaped beyond the reach of the Czar's 
 power, The merits of the work are very considerable. It throws a new light on 
 the state of the empire its aspect, political and domestic its manners; the 
 employes about the palace, court, and capital ; its police ; its spies ; its depraved 
 society," &c. Sunday Times. 
 
 JAPAN AND THE JAPANESE, 
 
 Comprising the Narrative of a Three Years' Residence in Japan, with 
 an Account of British Commercial Intercourse with that Country. 
 
 By CAPTAIN GOLOWNIN. 
 
 NEW and CHEAPER EDITION. 2 vols. post 8vo, 10s. bound. 
 " No European has been able, from personal observation and experience, to com- 
 municate a tenth part of the intelligence furnished by this writer." British 
 Review. 
 
 MEMOIRS AND CORRESPONDENCE OF 
 SIR ROBERT MURRAY KEITH, K.B., 
 
 Minister Plenipotentiary at the Courts of Dresden, Copenhagen, and Vienna, 
 from 1769 to 1793 ; with Biographical Memoirs of 
 
 QUEEN CAROLINE MATILDA, SISTER OF GEORGE III. 
 
 Cheaper Edition. Two vols., post 8vo, with Portraits, 15s. bound.
 
 14 INTERESTING WORKS 
 
 THE CRESCENT AND THE CROSS; 
 OR, ROMANCE AND REALITIES OF EASTERN TRAVEL. 
 
 By ELIOT WARBURTON, Esq. 
 CHEAP EDITION, revised, in 1 vol., with numerous Illustrations, 6s. bound. 
 
 " A book calculated to prove more practically useful was never penned than 
 the * Crescent and the Cross' a work which surpasses all others in its homage 
 for the sublime and its love for the beautiful in those famous regions consecrated 
 to everlasting immortality in the annals of the prophets and which no other 
 modern writer has ever depicted with a pencil at once so reverent and so pic- 
 turesque." Sun. 
 
 LORD LINDSAY'S. LETTERS ON THE HOLY LAND. 
 
 FOURTH EDITION, Revised, 1 voL, post 8vo, with Illustrations, 6s. bound. 
 
 " Lord Lindsay has felt and recorded what he saw with the wisdom of a philo- 
 sopher, and the iaith of an enlightened Christian." Quarterly Review. 
 
 NARRATIVE OF A 
 TWO YEARS' RESIDENCE AT NINEVEH; 
 
 With Remarks on the Chaldeans, Nestorians, Yezidees, &c. 
 
 By the Rev. J. P. FLETCHER. 
 Cheaper Edition. Two vols., post 8vo, 12s. bound. 
 
 ADVENTURES IN GEORGIA, CIRCASSIA, AND RUSSIA. 
 
 By Lieutenant-Colonel G. POULETT CAMERON, C.B., K.T.S., &c. 
 2 vols., post 8vo, bound, 12s. 
 
 CAPTAINS KING AND FITZROY. 
 
 NARRATIVE OF THE TEN YEARS' VOYAGE ROUND 
 
 THE WORLD, 
 OF H.M.S. ADVENTURE AND BEAGLE. 
 
 Cheaper Edition, in 2 large vols. 8vo, with Maps, Charts, and upwards 
 of Sixty Illustrations, by Landseer, and other eminents Artists, 
 price \l 11s. 6d. bound. 
 
 a".!L" f *** j 1 " ?*. [ nterC8tin narratives of voyaging that it has fallen to our 
 tice, *nd which must always occupy a distinguished space in the historr 
 of dentine " 
 
 , py 
 
 of dentine navigation." Quarterly Review.
 
 PUBLISHED FOR HENRY COLBURN. 15 
 
 THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON'S CAMPAIGN 
 
 IN THE NETHERLANDS IN 1815. 
 
 Comprising the Battles of Ligny, Quatre Bras, and Waterloo. Illustrated by 
 
 Official Documents. 
 
 By WILLIAM MUDFORD, Esq. 
 1 vol., 4to, with Thirty Coloured Plates, Portraits, Maps, Plans, &C., bound, 21s. 
 
 LIGHTS AND SHADES OF MILITARY LIFE. 
 
 Edited by the late Lieutenant- General Sir CHAELES NAPIER, G.C.B., 
 Commander- in-Chief in India, &c. 1 voL, 8vo, 6s. bound. 
 
 "Narratives of stirring interest, which should be in the hands of every 
 officer in her Majesty's service." Globe. 
 
 STORY OF THE PENINSULAR WAR. 
 
 A COMPANION VOLUME TO MR. GLEIG'S 
 "STORY OF THE BATTLE OF WATERLOO." 
 
 With Six Portraits and Map, 5s. bound. 
 
 THE NEMESIS IN CHINA; 
 
 COMPRISING A COMPLETE 
 
 HISTORY OF THE WAR IN THAT COUNTRY. 
 
 From Notes of Captain W. H. HALL, R.N. 
 
 1 vol., Plates, 6s. bound. 
 
 " Capt. Hall's narrative of the services of the Nemesis is full of interest, and 
 will, we are sure, be valuable hereafter, as affording most curious materials for 
 the history of steam navigation." Quarterly Review. 
 
 CAPTAIN CRAWFORD'S NAVAL REMINISCENCES; 
 
 COMPRISING MEMOIRS OF 
 
 ADMIRALS SLR E. OWEN, SIR B. HALLO WELL CAREW, 
 
 AND OTHER DISTINGUISHED COMMANDERS. 
 
 2 Tola., post 8vo, with Portraits, 12s. bound. 
 
 ADVENTURES OF A S L D I E K. 
 
 WEITTEN BY HBISELF. 
 
 Being the Memoirs of EDWARD COSTELLO, of the Rifle Brigade, 
 
 and late Captain in the British Legion. Cheap Edition, with 
 
 Portrait, 3s. 6d. bound. 
 
 " An excellent book of its class. A true and vivid picture of a soldier's life." 
 Atheruttm. 
 
 " This highly interesting volume is filled with details and anecdotes of the most 
 startling character, and well deserves a place in the library of every regiment 
 hi the service." Naval and Military Gazette.
 
 16 WORKS PUBLISHED FOR HENRY COEBURN. 
 
 PASSAGES IN THE LIFE OF 
 
 MRS. MARGARET MAITLAND, OF SUNNYSIDE. 
 
 WRITTEN BY HERSELF. 
 Third and Cheaper Edition, 1 vol., 6s. bound. 
 
 " Nothing half so true or so touching in the delineation of Scottish character 
 has appeared since Gait published his ' Annals of the Parish,' and this is purer 
 and deeper than Gait, and even more absolutely and simply true." Lord Jeffrey. 
 
 Cheaper Edition, in 3 vols., price 10s. 6d., half-bound, 
 
 FORTUNE: A STORY OF LONDON LIFE. 
 
 By D. T. COULTON, Esq. 
 
 " A brilliant novel. A more vivid picture of various phases of society has not 
 been painted since ' Vivian Grey' first dazzled and confounded the world; but it 
 is the biting satire of fashionable life, the moral anatomy of high society, which 
 will attract all readers. In every sense of the word, ' Fortune ' is an excellent 
 novel." Observer. 
 
 " ' Fortune' is not a romance, but a novel. All is reality about it: the time, 
 the characters, and the incidents. In its reality consists its charm and its 
 merit It is, indeed, an extraordinary work, and has introduced to the world 
 of fiction a new writer of singular ability, with a genius more that of Bulwcr 
 than any to whom we can compare it." Critic. 
 
 ZOOLOGICAL RECREATIONS. 
 
 By W. J. BRODERIP, Esq., F.R.S. 
 Cheaper Edition, 1 vol., post 8vo, 6s. bound. 
 
 " This work abounds in the most delightful records of animal life. It is just 
 the book we should like to see in the hands of youth ; nor could a teacher make 
 his pupil a more acceptable present." Kidd's Journal of Natural History. 
 
 THE HALL AND THE HAMLET. 
 
 By WILLIAM HOWITT. 
 
 Author of " The Book of the Seasons," " Rural Life in England," &c. 
 Cheaper Edition, 2 vols., post 8vo, 12s. bound. 
 
 ," T ?.. work is ful1 of delightful sketches and sweet and enchanting pictures 
 I life, and we have no doubt will be read not only at the homestead of the 
 ;irmer, but at the mansion of the squire, or the castle of the lord, with gratifica- 
 tion and delight" Sunday Times. 
 
 PUBLISHED FOE HENRY COLBUEN, 
 BY HIS SUCCESSORS, HURST & BLACKETT, 
 
 GREAT MAKLBOBOUGH STREET. 

 
 THE LIBRARY 
 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 Santa Barbara 
 
 THIS BOOK IS DUE ON THE LAST DATE 
 STAMPED BELOW.
 
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