George Robert Fitzgerald and Mr. Richard Martin, M. P. for Galway—The
“Prime Sergeant,” Lord Altamont’s wolf-dog—Shot by Fitzgerald—The
circumstance resented by Mr. Martin—The latter insulted by his
antagonist in the Dublin Theatre—Mission of Mr. Lyster to George
Robert, and its disastrous consequences—A legal inquiry and strange
decision—Meeting between the principals—Fitzgerald receives two shots
without injury—Explanation of that enigma.
A very illustrative anecdote of the habits of former times is afforded
by the celebrated rencontre between George Robert Fitzgerald of Turlow,
member for Mayo, and Mr. Richard Martin of Connemara, member for Galway
county, which occurred nearly half a century ago. Both were gentlemen of
great public notoriety: both men of family and of fortune. But of all
the _contrasts_ that ever existed in human nature, theirs was in the
superlative degree; for modern biography does not present a character
more eminently vindictive and sanguinary than the one, or an individual
more signalised by active humanity and benevolence than the other.
With the chief of Connemara I have now been nearly forty years in a
state of uninterrupted friendship:—failings he has—“let him who is
faultless throw the first stone!” The character I should give of him may
be summed up in a single sentence. “Urbanity toward women; benevolence
toward men; and humanity toward the brute creation.” I must observe,
however, that he is one of those good fellows who would rather do any
body’s business than his own; and durst look any thing in the face
rather than his own situation. As to his _charity_, I cannot say too
much; as to his _politics_, I cannot say too little.
His unfortunate antagonist, Mr. Fitzgerald, has long since met his
miserable fate. Mr. Martin still lives; and seems to defy, from the
strength of his constitution, both time and the destroyer. If _ever_ he
should become defunct, there is not a bullock, calf, goose, or hack, but
ought to _go into deep mourning_ for him.
The virulent animosity and unfinished conflicts between these celebrated
personages once formed a subject of very general conversation. When the
bullets of holster pistols flatten against the ribs of a gentleman,
there can be no great use in fighting any more with _him_: it is better
to break fresh ground with some more vulnerable amateur; and as “fire
eating” was at the period I allude to in full taste and fashion, no
person who felt a _penchant_ for chivalry need wait a single hour for a
thrust. Every gentleman then wore his sword or _couteau de chasse_,
which there could be no trouble in drawing.
I was quite unacquainted with the true state of the quarrel between
these parties, or the facts of their rencontres; and have begged my
friend Martin to give me a circumstantial detail, lest I might mistake
and be called a “bouncer:” he was so obliging as to comply; and I
conceive that his Ms. statement is so perspicuous and fair, almost
amounting to perfect impartiality—in that conversational style, too,
best calculated for narrative,—that I determine to give it in nearly the
same words; and when it is combined with a few facts which I learned
from another friend, I venture to think that a better outline of Mayo
and Galway lords, commoners, judges, country gentlemen, and _fire
eaters_, cannot be found. As, however, there is nothing in it chivalrous
in the _ladies’_ way—the whole being about _hate_ with not one particle
respecting _love_, I fear it will not be a favourite sketch with the
gentler part of the creation. To make them amends, I’ll search my old
trunks, and find if possible some pretty sketch that has _nothing but
love_ or _marriage_ in it, which they shall have as well dressed and
garnished as they can reasonably expect from so old a _cuisinier_; and
now, with their kind permission, we will proceed to County Mayo.
“George Robert Fitzgerald, having a deadly hate to all the Brown family,
but hating most Lord Altamont, rode up one morning from Turlow to
Westport House, and asked to see the big wolf-dog called the ‘Prime
Sergeant.’ When the animal appeared, he instantly shot it, and desired
the servants to tell their master that ‘until the noble peer became
charitable to the wandering poor whose broken meat was devoured by
hungry wolf-dogs, _he_ would not allow any such to be kept.’ He,
however, left a note to say that he _permitted_ Lady Anne, Lady
Elizabeth, and Lady Charlotte Brown, each to keep one _lap-dog_.
“Proud of this exploit, he rode into Lord Sligo’s town of Westport, and
proclaimed in the marketplace that he had just shot the _Prime Sergeant_
dead. The whole town was alarmed; an uproar arose: but after some debate
among the wisest or rather the _stoutest_ people in the town, whether
George Robert Fitzgerald ought not to be arrested if possible for this
deliberate murder of Counsellor Brown; he quieted all by saying, ‘I have
shot a much worthier _animal_, the big watch-dog.’[16]
-----
Footnote 16:
The Prime Sergeant of the Irish bar was then Lord Sligo’s brother—a
huge, fat, dull fellow; but the great _lawyer_ of the family. Prime
Sergeant Brown was considered as an oracle by the whole county of
Mayo: yet there could scarcely be found man less calculated to _tell
fortunes_. The watch-dog was named after him.
-----
“I was at this time much attached to the family; and debating in my own
mind how best to conduct myself toward my friends, I determined not to
tell George Robert my opinion, as it would be in effect to declare that
Lord Altamont wanted courage to defend his own honour. I therefore
resolved on seeking some more plausible ground of quarrel, which soon
presented itself; for at the summer assizes of Mayo, holden at
Castlebar, Charles Lionel Fitzgerald prosecuted his elder brother George
Robert for false imprisonment and savage conduct toward their father,
upon whom George Robert had fastened a chain and dray!
“The affair came on before Lord Carleton, and I volunteered in the only
cause I ever pleaded.[17]
-----
Footnote 17:
Mr. Richard Martin had been called to the Irish bar, as the eldest
sons of the most respectable families of Ireland then were, not, as
might be supposed, to practise for others, but with a supposition that
they would thereby be better enabled to defend their own _territories_
from judgments, mortgagees, custodiums, &c. &c., and to “stave off”
vulgar demands, which if too speedily conceded, might beget very
serious inconveniences.
-----
“An affidavit was produced, stating that the father was _not_ confined.
I observed, ‘that Robert Fitzgerald had long notice of this cause coming
on; and that the best answer would be the _attendance_ of the father
when he was called as one of the magistrates in the commission for the
county of Mayo.’
“Remesius Lennon, a battered old counsellor, on the other side, observed
that the father was one of the worst men living, and that it would be
unjust to censure any son for confining such a public nuisance.
“I opposed putting off the trial of George Robert, and concluded to this
effect:—‘Though believing that, in course of a long life, this wretched
father had committed many crimes, yet the greatest crime against society
and the greatest sin against Heaven that he ever perpetrated, was the
having _begotten the traverser_.’
“On this, George Robert said, smiling, ‘Martin, you look very
healthy—you take good care of your _constitution_; but I tell you, that
you have this day taken very bad care of your _life_.’
“The trial went on; and it was _proved_, among a great number of other
barbarities, that the father _was_ chained by his son George Robert to a
dray, and at times to a muzzled bear: a respectable jury found the
traverser guilty; and Lord Carleton sentenced him to three years’
imprisonment, and to pay a fine to the king of five hundred pounds.
“‘Kissing’ at this time went ‘by favour;’ and Mr. Conally, the
brother-in-law of George Robert, obtained from the late Duke of
Buckingham, then Lord Lieutenant, the pardon and release of Fitzgerald.
“Some months after, I happened to pass through Castlebar, and learned
that Mr. Fitzgerald was in the town. I had heard of his denunciations,
but my determination was, neither to _avoid_ nor _seek_ my antagonist.
Desirous of ascertaining what I had to expect, I requested a friend to
call on him, and, after conversation on some ordinary subject, to say
that _I_ had been in the town.
“This was done, and George Robert answered, ‘that he hoped, whenever we
met, it would not be as _enemies_.’
“My friend reported this: but, on the whole, I thought it as well not to
seek any occasion of meeting a person who, I apprehended, might, so soon
after our dispute, be induced to depart from his pacific resolution; I
therefore proceeded on my journey to Dublin.
“Mrs. Crawford, I found, had been engaged to play for a few nights at
Crow Street theatre, and I determined to see her _Belvidera_. I had not
long taken my seat in the front row of the stage-box, when I heard a
noisy, precipitate step, and an order given in a commanding tone for the
box to be opened. I turned, and saw Mr. Fitzgerald, who took his place
on the next row. His look indicated rage, and I therefore left my place
in front, and took my seat on the same row with him. He stared for a
moment or two directly into my face, then turned away and laughed, on
which I asked, ‘Have you any thing particular to say to _me_, Mr.
Fitzgerald?’
“He answered, with a stern look of defiance—‘Only to tell you that I
followed you from Castlebar, to proclaim you the _bully_ of the
Altamonts.’
“‘You have said enough, Mr. Fitzgerald; you no doubt expect to hear from
me, and it shall be early in the morning.’
“‘_I_ shall hear from _you_ to-morrow!’ he repeated, contemptuously,
making, as he spoke, a blow at me, and adding, ‘this will refresh your
memory.’ He then pulled back his body from behind the curtain of the
box, and instantly retreated toward the lobby.
“My feet got entangled in the curtain when I rushed out to follow my
antagonist, and I fell upon the floor. The present Lord Howden, then
Major Craddock, kindly lifted me up. When on my feet, I sprang into the
lobby, which was crowded almost to an overflow. I uttered all that rage
could dictate, accused Fitzgerald of cowardice, and told him he had
created the present _scene_ in order that we should be both bound over
to the peace.
“‘You have got a blow,’ replied he: ‘I desire to disgrace you, and when
you are punished to my liking _that_ way (and not before) you shall have
the _satisfaction_ of being shot, or run through the body.’
“Next day, I met the late Lord Donoughmore, and he most kindly said, if
I required it, he would deliver a message to Fitzgerald. I said, ‘No, I
could not think of embroiling any friend of mine with such a fellow;
that I would wear my sword, and trust to my opportunities of meeting
Fitzgerald.’
“I watched his house closely for several days, but he did not appear. At
this critical moment, a Mr. George Lyster called upon me, and said he
would take my message to Fitzgerald.
“I answered, ‘that of all things I most desired to meet him; that I
found I could not unkennel the fox; and that I would thank whomsoever
should succeed in putting us face to face.’ I was, however, cautious of
employing Lyster, knowing him to be Fitzgerald’s cousin, and supposing
it possible he might have been employed by Fitzgerald himself: this
induced me to try him and to say, ‘As you have _offered_ to go to this
gentleman, I will thank you to appoint the _earliest moment_ for a
meeting.’
“Mr. Lyster drew not back, but went to his cousin’s house, and was
ushered by one of the servants into the drawing-room. Mr. Fitzgerald
shortly entered, and as soon as Mr. Lyster hinted his business, our hero
desired the footman to send one of the valets: when the latter entered,
Fitzgerald said, ‘Francis, bring my cudgel with the green riband.’ When
Fitzgerald got this weapon, he addressed his relative thus—‘How dare you
bring a _message_ to me? Hold out your finger with the diamond-ring upon
it!’ Poor Lyster obeyed, ignorant of his design, and with one blow
Fitzgerald broke the finger, and the band of the ring, which fell on the
floor. ‘Now,’ proceeded he, ‘I order you to take up the ring, and
present it to me.’ As if thunderstruck, Lyster obeyed. When Fitzgerald
got possession of the ring, he put it into paper, and returned it to
Lyster, saying, ‘Young fellow, take care of the ring! put it up very
safe, and don’t swear I robbed you of a present from some fair one.’
“This dialogue (recounted to me by Lyster himself) was followed by
several blows, which cut and battered the young man severely. At last,
he rushed to the window, drove his head through a pane of glass, and
cried out for assistance. The police, hearing the cry, soon assembled;
and not finding any of the city magistrates, they having seized both
parties, conducted them into the presence of Mr. Justice Robinson.
“The judge first heard Lyster, and seeing him severely bruised, and
supposing his skull might be fractured, declared that the prisoner could
not be bailed.
“Fitzgerald now, on the other hand, asked to have his examination
entered against Lyster. He stated, ‘that Lyster was his relative, and
protected by him, and that I had _influenced_ the young man to deliver a
message from me.’ He said, ‘that Mr. Lyster _had_ delivered such a
_message_: that _he_ had answered mildly, that he would not fight Mr.
Martin;’ whereon, (says Fitzgerald,) this young gentleman said, ‘Then
you must fight _me_.’ My answer was, that I would not fight _any man_;
on which,’ continued George Robert, ‘he made several blows of the cudgel
I hold in my hand’ (his own) ‘at me. I happened to be more dexterous
than my assailant, and was fortunate enough to take the weapon out of
his hands, and in my own defence was obliged to strike in turn, or I
should have been murdered.’
“The old judge, believing every word of so plausible a statement, said,
‘I have heard enough; I commit Lyster for trial, and bind over Mr.
Fitzgerald to prosecute; and I do so, expressing my approbation of Mr.
Fitzgerald’s manly conduct, in refusing to fight Mr. Martin, and thus
appealing for redress to the laws of his country.’
“Shortly after this curious scene, I heard that Fitzgerald was at
Castlebar, and had it intimated to him that I should be there. I
travelled with Mr. H. Flood[18] in his carriage, and he kindly offered
to be my friend, which I declined—fearing to have exposed him to some
insult.
-----
Footnote 18:
This was the celebrated Henry Flood, the antagonist of
Grattan—certainly the ablest statesman of his day. He had himself
fought more than once; and had killed Mr. Eager, the father of Lord
Clifden, of Gowran.
-----
“I had sent my duelling pistols by a fellow who got drunk on the road,
and forgot his errand;—so that I remained some hours at Lord Lucan’s
house, expecting in vain their arrival, during which period I heard that
Mr. Fitzgerald was parading the town with a number of persons from
Turlow, his own estate, famous for its mobs trained to every kind of
outrage.[19] I heard, too, that he said, I waited for Lord Altamont’s
carriage, which, observed he significantly, _would not arrive_. Here I
have to remark that I had written a note to Lord Altamont, to say that I
would gladly compound for a slight wound in the expected affair, and
that I requested his carriage might be in waiting for me at Castlebar,
which is only eight miles from Westport. George Robert had heard this,
and said to the mob, ‘Mr. Martin expects Altamont’s carriage, but he may
wait long enough; for though the horse is a brave animal, I fancy
Altamont’s are like the owner, and will not stand the smell of powder.’
-----
Footnote 19:
These were the gentry by whom the author was some time subsequently so
closely beleaguered at the yarn fair at Castlebar, as hereafter
mentioned.
-----
“These taunts reached me; and procuring a case of the common holster
pistols my servant rode with, I determined to use them: but they were so
stiff in the trigger that I could hardly let them off. I fastened on my
sword, and putting my hand under Doctor Merlin’s arm, walked into the
town, and soon saw Fitzgerald, followed by his mob. He too wore his
sword, and I instantly told him to draw. He answered that he was lame,
the pavement bad, and that he could not keep his footing; that I had
Lord Lucan’s mob on my side; and that, in short, he would not fight me.
“I then said, ‘You will find me in the barrack-yard, where I shall
remain.’
“‘I shall be in no hurry, after having struck you for your pertness,’
said he.
“On this I flung a switch into his face, walked to the barrack, and got
sentries posted, with orders to keep out all persons but Mr. Fitzgerald
and his friend, whilst we should be fighting. He and Mr. Fenton soon
appeared: he had a good case of pistols in his hand, while I had the
wretched tools I named.
“I stood against a projecting part of the barrack wall, and desired Mr.
Fitzgerald to come as close as he pleased. He said a cannon would not
carry _so far_. I answered, ‘I will soon cure that, for I will now march
up until I lay my pistol to your face.’ I accordingly advanced, until
our pistols touched. We both fired: he missed me, but I hit him full in
the breast, and he fell back, supporting himself by a projection of
rock, and exclaiming, ‘Honour, Martin, honour!’
“I said,—‘If you are not disabled, I will wait as long as you choose!’
“At this moment, he couched treacherously like a cat, presented, fired,
and hit me. I returned the fire, and hit him: he again recovered, came
up, begged my pardon, asked to shake hands, and said, ‘Altamont has
caused all this, and now would not send you his carriage;—let us both
kick him!’
“Flood met me at the gate, and I leaned on him. I was taken to Doctor
Lendser’s, to have the wound dressed, but on the way desired my servant
to go with my compliments and inquire how Mr. Fitzgerald felt. Mr. Flood
said, ‘On no account make any inquiry, or, if he lives, you will have a
second fight.’ I was foolish, as will appear, and sent.
“I had not been many moments in bed when my hero entered the room with a
careful, timid step. He said, ‘Doctor, how do you find Mr. Martin?’ I
was quite surprised, but said, ‘I am very well, and hope you are not
badly hurt.’
“He then addressed me, and observed, ‘Doctor Merlin insulted me, and I
consider him a bully, and instrument of yours, and as such I will make
_you_ accountable.’
“I answered, ‘If I account with you, on a mutual understanding that
Doctor Merlin is beneath your notice, I shall have to fight him also for
such an imputation:—so put your renewed quarrel on some other ground. If
you say you did not ask my pardon, I will fight you again; or if you say
you are fond of such an _amusement_, I will fight ‘until my eyelids can
no longer wag.’
“‘Shall you be at Sligo?’ was Mr. Fitzgerald’s _reply_.
“I said, ‘It was not my present purpose; but if he _wished_ it, I would
be there, and that immediately.’
“He named the day, to which I assented. It was _reported_, but I cannot
vouch for the fact, that a party was sent to intercept and murder me.
Shortly after I reached Sligo, my opponent sent Sir M. Crafton to say,
that ‘Mr. Fitzgerald did not require any further renewal of the
quarrel;’ and thus the affair ended. My surprise at Fitzgerald’s being
alive and well, after having received two shots from _horse-pistols_
full upon him, was soon cleared up; he had _plated his body_ so as to
make it completely bullet proof. On receiving my fire, he fell from the
force of the balls striking him direct, and touching his concealed
armour.—My wound was in the body.
“The elegant and gentlemanly appearance of this man, as contrasted with
the savage treachery of his actions, was extremely curious and without
any parallel of which I am aware.”