My first acquaintance with the Duke of Wellington and the late Marquess
of Londonderry, at a dinner at my own house—Some memoirs and anecdotes
of the former as a public man—My close connexion with government—Lord
Clare’s animosity to me suspended—Extraordinary conference between
Lord Castlereagh, Mr. Cooke, and me, in August 1798—Singular
communication—Offers made to me for succession as solicitor-general—I
decline the terms proposed—Lord Castlereagh’s letter to me—Character
of Mr. Pelham, now Earl of Chichester.
My personal acquaintance with the Duke of Wellington originated
accidentally, soon after I commenced public life; and so clearly shows
the versatility of men, the fallibility of judgment, and the total
uncertainty of all human prediction, that I cannot avoid mentioning it.
In 1793, when I was in high repute, most prosperous at the bar, living
in the first ranks of society, a distinguished favourite at the
vice-regal court, and designated as a candidate for the first offices of
my profession, I occasionally gave large splendid dinners, according to
the habit invariably adopted in those times by persons circumstanced
like myself.—At one of those entertainments Major Hobart (Lord
Buckinghamshire); Sir John Parnell; Isaac Corry; I think Lord Limerick;
Sir John (afterward Lord) de Blacquiere; Lords Llandaff, Dillon,
Yelverton; the Speaker, &c. &c.—in all, upward of twenty noblemen and
commoners did me the honour of partaking my fare: to assist in preparing
which Lord Clonmel sent me his two grand cooks. At that period I was not
unentertaining; and a most cheerful party was predicted.—The House had
sat late, and etiquette never permitted us to go to dinner (where the
Speaker was a guest) until his arrival, unless he had specially desired
us to do so.
The Speaker did not join us till nine o’clock, when Sir John Parnell
brought with him, and introduced to me, Captain Wellesley and Mr.
Stewart, two young members, who having remained in the House, he had
insisted on their coming with him to my dinner, where he told them good
cheer and a hearty welcome would be found; and in this he was not
mistaken.
Captain Arthur Wellesley had, in 1790, been returned to Parliament for
Trim, County Meath, a borough under the patronage of his brother, the
Earl of Mornington.[56] He was then ruddy-faced and juvenile in
appearance, and rather popular among the young men of his age and
station. His address was not polished: he occasionally spoke in
Parliament, but not successfully, and never on important subjects; and
evinced no promise of that unparalleled celebrity and splendour he has
since reached, and whereto intrepidity and decision, good luck and great
military science, have justly combined to elevate him. As to his late
_civil_ triumph, I will suspend giving my opinion, though I hold a
strong one.
-----
Footnote 56:
I think he was opposed by the present Mr. Saurin, and Mr. Tod Jones
(who afterward sent a bullet through Sir Richard Musgrave’s abdomen).
-----
Lord Castlereagh was the son of Mr. Stewart, a country gentleman,
generally accounted to be a very clever man, in the north of Ireland. He
had been a professed and not very moderate _patriot_, and at one time
carried his ideas of opposition exceedingly far,—becoming a leading
member of the Reform and Liberal societies.[57]
-----
Footnote 57:
See the history of Belfast, and the northern clubs and volunteer
resolutions of that period—namely, 1779 or 1780. He and Mr. Joy, a
printer, drew them up conjointly.
-----
Lord Castlereagh began his career in the Irish Parliament, by a motion
for a committee to inquire into the representation of the people, with
the ulterior object of a reform in Parliament. He made a good speech,
and had a majority in the House, which he certainly did not expect, and
I am sure did not _wish for_. He was unequal and unwilling to push that
point to further trial: the matter cooled in a few days; and after the
next division, was deserted entirely. Mr. Stewart, however, after that
speech, was considered as a very clever young man, and in all points
well taught and tutored by his father, whose marriage with the Marquess
of Camden’s sister was the remote cause of all his future successes:—how
sadly terminated!
At the period to which I allude, I feel confident nobody could have
predicted that one of those young gentlemen would become the most
celebrated general of his era, and the other the most unfortunate
minister of Europe. However, it is observable, that to the personal
intimacy and reciprocal friendship of those two individuals, they
mutually owed the extent of their respective elevation and
celebrity:—Sir Arthur Wellesley never would have had the chief command
in Spain but for the ministerial aid of Lord Castlereagh; and Lord
Castlereagh never could have stood his ground as a minister, but for
Lord Wellington’s successes.
At my house the evening passed amidst that glow of well-bred, witty, and
cordial vinous conviviality, which was, I believe, peculiar to high
society in Ireland.
From that night I became somewhat intimate with Captain Wellesley and
Mr. Stewart; and perceived certain amiable qualities in both. Change of
times, or the intoxication of prosperity, certainly tends either to
diminish or increase some natural traits in every man’s character, or to
neutralise qualities which had previously been prominent. Indeed, if
Lord Wellington had continued until now the same frank, plain,
open-hearted man, he certainly must have been better proof against those
causes which usually excite a metamorphosis of human character than any
one who ever preceded him. Still, if possible, he would have been a
_greater_ man; at least, he would have better drawn the distinction
between a _warrior_ and a _hero_—terms not altogether synonymous.
Many years subsequently to the dinner-party I have mentioned, after Sir
Arthur had returned from India, I one day met Lord Castlereagh in the
Strand, and a gentleman with him. His lordship stopped me, whereat I was
rather surprised, as we had not met for some time: he spoke _very_
kindly, smiled, and asked if I had forgotten my old friend? It was Sir
Arthur Wellesley whom I discovered in his companion; but looking so
sallow and wan, and with every mark of what is called a worn-out man,
that I was truly concerned at his appearance.—But he soon recovered his
health and looks, and went as the Duke of Richmond’s secretary to
Ireland; where he was in all material traits still Sir Arthur
Wellesley—but it was Sir Arthur Wellesley judiciously improved. He had
not forgotten his friends, nor did he forget himself. He told me that he
had accepted the office of secretary only on the terms that it should
not impede or interfere with his military pursuits; and what he said
proved true, for he was soon sent, as second in command of the troops,
with Lord Cathcart to Copenhagen, to break through the law of nations,
and execute upon a Christian state and ancient ally the most
distinguished piece of treachery that history records.
On Sir Arthur’s return he recommenced his duty of secretary; and during
his residence in Ireland, in that capacity, I did not hear one complaint
against any part of his conduct either as a public or private man. He
was afterward appointed to command in Spain: an appointment which was, I
then thought, expected by Sir John Doyle. I do not mean to infer the
least disparagement to either the military or diplomatic talents of Sir
John; but his politics, or at least those of his friends, were opposite,
and he might have pursued a very different course to decide (for the
_time being_) the fate of Europe.
A few days before Sir Arthur’s departure for Spain, I requested him and
Lord Manners to spend a day with me, which they did. The company was not
very large, but some of Sir Arthur’s military friends were of the
party:—the late Sir Charles Asgill, the present General Meyrick, &c. &c.
I never saw him more cheerful or happy. The bombardment of Copenhagen
being by chance stated as a topic of remark, I did not join in its
praise; but, on the other hand, muttered that I never did nor should
approve of it.
“Damn it, Barrington!” said Sir Arthur, “why? what do you mean to
say?”—“I say, Sir Arthur,” replied I, “that it was the very best
devised, the very best executed, and the most just and necessary
‘_robbery_ and _murder_’ now on record!” He laughed, and we soon
adjourned to the drawing-rooms, where Lady Barrington had a ball and
supper as a _finish_ for the departing hero.
In 1815, having been shut up in Paris during the siege, I went out to
Neuilly to pay a visit to the duke before our troops got into the
city.—I had not seen him since the day above-mentioned; and he had
intermediately much changed in his appearance, though seeming just as
friendly.
I knew his Grace when Captain Wellesley—Sir Arthur Wellesley—Secretary
Wellesley—Ambassador Wellesley—and Duke of Wellington. In the first
stage of this career, I was, as a public man, more than his equal; in
the last, nobody is so much. However, it is a fine reflection for the
contemporaries of great people, that it will be “all the same a hundred
years hence!” and heroes, diplomatists,[58] &c. must either become very
good-tempered fellows when they meet in the Elysian fields, or—there
must be a very strong _police_ to keep them in order.
-----
Footnote 58:
The following unpublished lines, by Miss M. Tylden, the most talented
young lady I ever met, depict the frivolity and short-lived nature of
human vanities more forcibly than a hundred sermons—if we calmly
reflect what a contemptible _animal_ is man!—
“The kingdoms of the world have pass’d away,
And its strong empires moulder’d into dust,
Swift as the changes of a poet’s dream;
And kings and heroes, and the mighty minds
Whose hopes circled eternity, and seized
The stars as their inheritance, and grew
Too big for mortal frames—until they sank
Into the narrow bounds of nature:—
These are the things which, even nameless now,
Are on the earth forgot—or, if retain’d,
Of power, of life, and motion all bereft!”
-----
Whilst the duke was at St. Denis, I was present in the French Chamber of
Deputies when the question of _capitulation_ was discussed; and most
undoubtedly Marshal Ney supported that measure upon the basis of a
_general amnesty_. On any other, it would never have been listened to:
the battle would have taken place; and the Duke of Wellington would have
had to contest the most sanguinary and desperate engagement of his day
with a numerous and well-appointed army, frantic with zeal to revenge
their disgrace at Waterloo. This I _know_:—for I was (truly against the
grain) kept more than twelve hours in the midst of that army at Vilette,
two days before the capitulation. Of this more will be seen in the last
volume. I cannot but remark, that if Ney had been pardoned, and the
horses not sent to Venice, or the Louvre plundered, the _spirit_ of the
capitulation—nay, the very _words_ of it—would have been more strictly
adhered to.
I must be rightly understood respecting Lord Londonderry, to whom,
individually, I never had the slightest objection. I always found him
friendly, though cold; and fair, though ambiguous.—I never knew him
break his word; and believe him to have been, as a private gentleman,
unconnected with Parliament or official negotiations, perfectly
honourable. But here my eulogy must close; for, with regard to public
character, his lordship must, I fear, be pronounced corrupt. When
determined on a point, nothing could stop him. In Ireland, his career
was distinguished by public bribery and palpable misrepresentations:—of
which assertion, had I not indisputable and ample proof, I would not
hazard it.
Mr. Pelham (now Earl of Chichester) was secretary to Lord Camden when
lord lieutenant. I had the good fortune and pleasure (for it was a great
pleasure to me) to be on very friendly terms with this amiable and
engaging gentleman, and have seldom met any public personage I liked so
well—moderate, honourable, sufficiently firm and sufficiently spirited:
I had a real gratification in attaching myself not only to his measures,
but to his society. In all our intercourse (which ceased with his
departure) I found him candid and just, and experienced at his hands
several public acts of kindness and attention.
Mr. Pelham’s parliamentary talents were not of a splendid order. The
people of Ireland never required _stars_ for ministers; but a fair and
candid secretary was a great treat to them, and Mr. Pelham was making
rapid way in public esteem (though no friend to emancipation). The last
day I ever saw him in Ireland he and his brother-in-law, Lord Sheffield,
did me the favour of dining with me in Merrion Square. I perceived he
was uncommonly dull, and regretted the circumstance much: he obviously
grew worse,—at length laid his head upon the table, and when he departed
was extremely ill: next day he was in a violent fever, his life was long
despaired of; he recovered with difficulty, and, on his recovery,
returned to England. Mr. Stewart (by marriage the lord lieutenant’s
nephew) was named as _locum tenens_ during Mr. Pelham’s absence, or
(should he not return) until the appointment of another secretary. But
he was soon discovered by his employers to be fit for _any_ business;
and as it had been long in the secret contemplation of the British
ministry to extinguish the Irish Parliament, either by fraud or
force,—and Lord Camden being considered too inactive (perhaps too
conscientious and honourable) to resort to either of those weapons, it
was determined to send over an old servant-of-all-work, who had fought
till he was beaten, and negotiated till he was outwitted. This person
(Lord Cornwallis), with the assistance of his young secretary, would
stop at nothing necessary to effect the purpose; and they could, between
them, carry a measure which few other persons, at that period, durst
have attempted.
These fragments are not intended as political episodes. The result of
that coalition every body knows: I shall only state so much of the
transaction as relates to my own individual concerns. I had an interview
with Lord Castlereagh, some time after he came into office, at Mr.
Cooke’s chambers. He told me he understood I expected to be the next
solicitor-general, and had applied for the office. I answered, that I
not only expected as much, but considered myself, under all
circumstances, _entitled_ to that preferment. He and Mr. Cooke both
said, “yes;” and recommended me to make “my _party good_ with Lord
Clare,” who had expressed “no indisposition” to the appointment on a
vacancy. Had I not been supposed of some use to the government, I do not
doubt but Lord Clare would have preferred many other more subservient
gentry of my profession. But he knew that although Lord Westmoreland, on
leaving Ireland, had made no express stipulation, he had subsequently
gone as far as he could with Lord Camden for my promotion. Lord Clare
played me off cleverly, until, in the month of August 1799, I was sent
for in private by the secretary, Edward Cooke, who had been a
particularly confidential friend of mine for several years. Having first
enjoined secrecy as to the subject of our conference, he told me that a
measure of great import had been under consideration in the English
cabinet, and might _possibly_ be acted on: and then proceeding to
acquaint me that Lord Clare had made no objection to my promotion, he
asked in so many words if I would support the “question of _a union_, IF
it should be brought forward?” I was struck as if by a shot! I had no
idea of such a thing being now seriously contemplated, although I had
often heard of it as a measure suggested in 1763. My mind had never any
doubts upon the degrading subject, all thoughts whereof had been
considered as banished for ever by the _Volunteers_, and the
Renunciation passed by the British legislature, in 1782. I therefore
replied at once, “No, never!”—“You’ll think better of it, Barrington!”
said he. “_Never!_” rejoined I: and the discussion was dropped; nor did
I confide it to any save one individual, who differed with me very much,
at least as to the mode of my refusal.
I was determined, however, to know how the matter really stood; and,
without touching on the late conversation, desired to be apprised
whether they preserved the intention of appointing me solicitor-general.
I received no other answer than the following letter from Lord
Castlereagh, without any explanation;—but it was enveloped in a very
long one from Mr. Cooke, headed “strictly private;” and, therefore, of
course, still remaining so, at least during my life. It may one day be
considered a very remarkable public document.
September 7, 1799.
“My dear sir,
“I am directed by his Excellency, the Lord Lieutenant,
to assure you, that he would be glad to avail himself of any
proper opportunity of complying with your wishes; and that he
regrets much he is at present so particularly circumstanced with
respect to the office of solicitor-general, that he feels it
impossible to gratify your desire as to that appointment. I
should, myself, have been very happy had I been able to
communicate to you a more favourable result.
“Dear Sir, yours very sincerely,
“CASTLEREAGH.”
I have never had any thing more to do with the successive governments of
Ireland,[59] and have used much forbearance in giving my opinion of
Irish lord chancellors, except Mr. Ponsonby, whom nobody ever heard me
praise as a _very great lawyer_, but whom every body has heard me term a
_just judge_, an honest, friendly man, and an adequate chancellor.
-----
Footnote 59:
Lord Castlereagh’s letter to me put, in fact, a civil end to my dreams
of promotion; and I was neither sinister nor cunning enough to regain
any influence after the Union was effected.
-----
Of Lord Camden, I believe, there was no second opinion in the circle
wherein I moved:—a better man could not be; but instead of governing, he
was governed: and intimately acquainted as I was with every procedure
and measure during his administration in Ireland, I do most fully acquit
him, individually, of the outrageous, impolitic, and ill-judged measures
which distinguished his rule. As to Lord Clare, he was despotic, and the
greatest enemy Ireland ever had. His father had been a Roman Catholic,
and intended for a priest, but changed his tenets, became a barrister of
great and just celebrity, and left many children.
Lord Clare was _latterly_ my most inveterate enemy: the cause shall
hereafter[60] be no secret;—it arose from a vicious littleness of mind
scarcely credible, and proves to me that implacability of temper never
exists without attendant faults; and although it may be deprecated by
cringing, is seldom influenced by feelings of generosity.
-----
Footnote 60:
If this _cause_ involved no names but his lordship’s and my own, it
should appear in _these volumes_; but it is a much more comprehensive
subject, and I feel too delicate on the point at present to enlarge
further upon it.
-----