CHAPTER XVII

THE REGENCY--STRUGGLE BETWEEN WHIG AND TORY CAMPS--O'LEARY AND THE

PRINCE OF WALES

The State Papers throw no light on what Plowden styles 'the arbitrary

withdrawal of O'Leary's pension.' The following historic incident, now

forgotten, and curious in its detail, may have led to that act.

In 1789, a great struggle raged between the Parliaments of England

and Ireland on the question of creating the Prince of Wales Regent

during the insanity of George the Third. The Prince at this time had

been bound up, politically and socially, with the Whigs. Pitt, fearing

that the Regency might prove fatal to his ambition and his Cabinet,

resisted the heir-apparent's right to the prerogative of his father,

and declared that 'the Prince had no better right to administer the

government during his father's incapacity than any other subject of the

realm.' An address to the Prince from the Irish Parliament requested

that he would 'take upon himself the government of Ireland during the

continuation of the King's indisposition, and no longer; and under the

title of Prince Regent of Ireland, in the name, and on behalf of his

Majesty, to exercise, according to the laws and constitution of that

kingdom, all regal powers, jurisdiction, and prerogatives to the crown

and government thereof belonging.'

Pelham, speaking of 'the tricks and intrigues of Mr. Pitt's faction,'

adds, 'I have not time to express how strongly the Prince is affected

by the confidence and attachment of the Irish Parliament.' Portland

takes the same tone. The Buckingham Papers afford rich material for a

history of this struggle. The noble editor admits that 'the Parliament

of Ireland preserved the unquestionable right of deciding the Regency

in their own way. The position of Lord Buckingham[603] had become

peculiarly embarrassing. What course should be taken in the event of

such an address being carried? The predicament was so strange, and

involved constitutional considerations of such importance, as to give

the most serious disquietude to the Administration.'[604]

Hopes were felt that the King might recover. The Viceroy receives

instructions to use obstructive tactics, 'to use every possible

endeavour, by all means in your power, debating every question,

dividing upon every question, moving adjournment upon adjournment,

and every other mode that can be suggested, to gain time!'[605] But

the Viceroy did more. He openly threatened to make each opponent 'the

victim of his vote.' Fitzgibbon was promised the seals and a peerage

if he succeeded for Pitt. Lures and threats were alternately held out.

The peerages of Kilmaine, Glentworth, and Cloncurry were sold for hard

cash, and the proceeds laid out in the purchase of members. Meanwhile

the King got well. Thereupon the Master of the Rolls, the Treasurer,

the Clerk of Permits, the Postmaster-general, the Secretary of War,

the Comptroller of Stamps, and other public servants, were dismissed.

The Duke of Leinster, Lord Shannon, the Ponsonbys were cashiered.

Employments that had long remained dormant were revived, sinecures

created, salaries increased; while such offices as the Board of Stamps

and Accounts, hitherto filled by one, became a joint concern. The

weigh-mastership of Cork was divided into three parts, the duties of

which were discharged by deputies, while the principals, who pocketed

the profits, held seats in Parliament. In 1790, one hundred and ten

placemen were members of the House. The Viceroy, Buckingham, during his

short régime, added 13,040_l._ a year to the pension list; the names

of the recipients are already on record. On the other hand, some men

who had taken the Prince's side in the contest lost their pensions.

O'Leary may have been in this batch.[606] Croly, in his 'Life of George

IV,' dilates on the intimate relations which subsisted between the

Prince and the priest, and adds that O'Leary was no unskilful medium

of intercourse between his Church and the Whigs, and contributed in no

slight degree to the popularity of the Prince in Ireland. According to

Buckley, the Prince patronised O'Leary to such an extent that rumour

whispered it was by him the marriage ceremony with Mrs. Fitzherbert had

been performed.

Barrington, describing the chastisement applied to those who, in

Ireland, favoured the appointment of the Prince as Regent, says: 'Lord

Buckingham vented his wrath on the country;' but what proof have we

that the alleged agent of the Castle, O'Leary, incurred that Viceroy's

displeasure?

In 1789, the year O'Leary removed permanently to London, he settled

down, at the Spanish Ambassador's Chapel in London, as an assistant

priest to Dr. Hussey, and, apparently, a most unwelcome one. An

extraordinary pamphlet, not known to his biographers, was privately

issued by O'Leary referring to a feud between himself and Dr. Hussey.

At page 11 O'Leary writes:--

The old clerk told me in the vestry, 'that I might now return to

Ireland, as my enemy, the Marquis of Buckingham, had returned to

England.' Surprised how or where the clerk of a vestry could get

such an insulting information, I recollected that his master [Dr.

Hussey] had told me some time before that he had seen a letter

from the Marquis of Buckingham, when Viceroy of Ireland, to some

nobleman or gentleman of the English Catholic Committee, wherein he

depicted the Catholics of that kingdom in very unfavourable if not

odious colours, and painted me as one of the ringleaders.[607]

This serves to explain Dr. England's remark in 1822, when accounting

for O'Leary's permanent removal to London, that 'his residence in

Ireland had become painful;'[608] but elsewhere in his book he assigns

a different reason for the change.

It has been stated [he writes] that a secret condition was annexed

to this grant, binding O'Leary to reside in England,[609] and

preventing him from further interference in the political concerns

of the empire. The fact, however, is that O'Leary had made previous

arrangements for a permanent residence in London--not only as being

more favourable to his health, which generally suffered by his

visits to Dublin, but from a rational conviction that the great

seat of influence and power was the proper sphere of his benevolent

exertions.

This biographer did not know O'Leary personally; his conjecture,

or explanation, is plausible. But few men would remove for their

health to the purlieus of St. Giles and Soho, the mission with which

O'Leary had most to do. Its fearful squalor at the period described

is curiously shown in Clinch's recently published 'Bloomsbury and St.

Giles.' It will be remembered that the preacher of his funeral sermon

conveys that the migration in 1789 was caused by O'Leary's refusal to

write in a venal Dublin print against the party with whom he had long

been associated. Snubbed by the Viceroy, Buckingham, his usefulness

at Dublin Castle was now a thing of the past; but yet, as he could

not afford to give up all State endowment, I suspect that he settled

down in London in some undefined diplomatic rôle, where his tact and

influence would find a field for exercise. A most careful memoir of

O'Leary, ending with the words 'Requiescat in pace'--written probably

by his friend and co-religionist Plowden--appears in the 'Gentleman's

Magazine' for February 1802. It contains some facts not noticed by his

more diffuse biographers. 'This laudable conduct,' we are told, 'did

not escape the attention of the Irish Government, and induced them,

when he quitted Ireland, to recommend him to men of power in this

country.' I believe that O'Leary's removal to London was made under

Government auspices, extended in the hope that, by his diplomatic

power, it might lead to useful knowledge and results.

As George, Prince of Wales, held Whig views at this time, Mr. Pitt's

great career ran some risk of being cut short. The Prince gathered

round him the leading Whig lights, including O'Leary, as we learn

from Croly's 'Life of George IV.'[610] A good picture of life in the

Pavilion at Brighton is given, and of the brilliant jokes which capped

the hits of Sheridan and Curran. But O'Leary's presence had, I think,

a deeper significance. With graver men his intercourse was frequent.

'Edmund Burke was very marked in the regard which he manifested to

O'Leary,' writes England. 'Fox was not only Pitt's rival, but the

leader of a powerful party constantly on the watch to oust Pitt from

office.' It may be presumed that the men of power in London to whom

O'Leary, on leaving Ireland, had letters from Dublin Castle, occupied a

camp hostile to the Whig garrison of the Pavilion.

One proof that O'Leary wished to regain favour with Pitt is afforded

by the casual remark of his biographer. 'When O'Leary learned that

his friend (Plowden) was engaged at the desire of Pitt in writing

the 'Historical Review,' he sent him his invaluable collections, as

affording the best and most authentic materials for the recent history

of Ireland.'[611]

I do not like that phrase of Plowden in which he says--when speaking

of O'Leary's pension--that it was only after giving repeated proofs

that the secret condition had been complied with, he received a large

arrear.[612] Plowden no doubt thinks that the pension was meant as

'hush money;' but it is a question whether O'Leary was quite frank

with him as to its character.

'An oak of the forest is too old to be transplanted at fifty,' said

Grattan, regarding Flood's removal to London in 1784. 'Disgusted with

the condition of his country,' writes O'Leary's later biographer,

Buckley, 'and hopeless of doing anything by which it could be improved,

he resolved on quitting it altogether and living in the free atmosphere

of England, so congenial to a bounding and manly temperament like

his.... In the year 1789 Arthur O'Leary left Ireland for ever, and

took up his residence in London as one of the chaplains to the Spanish

Embassy.'[613] It appears, however, from the testimony of Plowden, the

attached friend of O'Leary, that it was a condition expressly made

by the Crown that O'Leary was 'to reside no more in Ireland.'[614]

I suspect that the appointment just described was brought about by

Court intrigue. From the time of the Armada the movements of the

Spanish minister were viewed with jealousy, often with alarm. In

1779, when the combined fleets of Spain and France rode menacingly in

the Channel, O'Leary, as we have seen, denounced them to the Irish

people, and his appointment to the Spanish embassy must have been the

work of England rather than of Spain. In 1789 strained relations had

again arisen between Spain and England; and a few years later war was

actually declared by Spain.[615] Sydney states that O'Leary had already

consented to furnish secret information.[616] His present position

would enable him to acquire knowledge of, not only the designs of

Spain, but of Dr. Hussey too; and without saying that O'Leary could be

capable of downright treachery, it is probable that Pitt believed he

would. It will be remembered that, in 1780, Dr. Hussey, chief chaplain

to the Spanish embassy in London, had been sent with Richard Cumberland

to effect a treaty with the Court of Spain, a negotiation not entirely

successful. What was the precise nature of the hold which Hussey,

originally a Carthusian monk, acquired over the Court of England is

destined to remain shrouded. Buckley says it was at the special request

of George III. that Dr. Hussey accompanied Mr. Cumberland on a secret

mission to Madrid.[617]

What Cumberland himself thought of his colleague is curious to see. We

are told that 'the high-sounding titles and dignities showered upon

Dr. Hussey by the Court of Spain outweighed in his balance English

guineas;' that 'in his heart he was as high a priest as à Becket, and

as stiff a Catholic as ever kissed the cross;' but yet 'had left behind

him in his coffin at La Trappe no one passion native or ingrafted

that belonged to him when he entered it.' So clear-sighted a man as

Hussey could not fail to see the secret thoughts of Cumberland, or to

have diagnosed, in his turn, the jaundiced retina through which he

was viewed; for Cumberland complains of 'his singular, sudden, and

capricious conduct to the author and his family, of which he was an

inmate.'[618] Hussey had demanded his passports to return to England;

but on Cumberland's remonstrance paused, and cancelled a letter he had

addressed to the English Secretary of State asking leave to return.

Mystery covers much of this mission to Spain, for Cumberland says, 'I

will reveal no more than I am in honour and strict conscience warranted

to make public. For twenty years I have been silent, making no appeals

at any time but to my official employers, who were pledged to do me

justice.'[619]

Mr. Froude tells us that Dr. Hussey[620] was in the confidence of

Dundas and Portland, and had received favours from them. Both were

prominent statesmen in the Cabinet of Pitt, and both eventually turned

against Hussey. Dr. Hussey is described as Chaplain to his Catholic

Majesty of Spain, and Rector of the Church of the Spanish Embassy in

London. He evidently knew something of O'Leary not revealed to the

world.

At this point it may be well to open once more the pamphlet privately

printed--'A Narrative of the Misunderstanding between the Rev. Arthur

O'Leary and the Rev. Mr. Hussey.' Its purport, O'Leary says, is to

remove the bad impressions which a late report, one which impugned his

morality, might have made on some Catholic families, and the reader is

requested either to burn the brochure, or erase altogether the name of

Mr. Hussey. The latter is just the man to have muttered 'qui s'excuse

s'accuse' as he read the following; and O'Leary's remark serves to show

that Hussey suspected he had deeper motives.

The desire of co-operating in the work of the ministry [writes

O'Leary] was my only inducement for associating with Mr. [Hussey]

in the Spanish Ambassador's Chapel. He soon began to throw some

obstacles in my way--but in the most insulting and contemptuous

manner. The old clerk of his vestry, who retails among the common

people all the stories he hears from his employer, was commissioned

by him to direct me in the choice of my theme [in the pulpit].[621]

In 1780, the Spanish ambassador to London was, we learn, 'Count Fernan

Nunez, who had committed himself to a conversation from which Mr.

Hussey drew very promising expectations.'[622] But in 1789 we find

him succeeded by no less a person than the Marquis del Campo, whose

previous attitude, as sub-Premier of Spain, had filled the British

Cabinet with alarm.[623] Orde, writing to Nepean, of the Home Office,

five years before, tells him to be very watchful over this minister;

and O'Leary's friend, Plowden, whatever he means by it, says that it

was only after giving repeated proofs that the secret conditions had

been complied with, that O'Leary received a large arrear of his pension.

'A Narrative of the Misunderstanding' between O'Leary and Hussey

shows that the appointment of the former as Hussey's colleague was

forced upon the latter, and that Hussey distrusted and despised him,

confirming the old adage, two of a trade never agree. O'Leary complains

that on Good Friday, in presence of a crowded congregation numbering

many Protestants, Hussey sent

one of the boys who attend the altar, twice into the pulpit to

interrupt me in the most pathetic part of my discourse by chucking

the sleeves of my surplice and ordering me to come down under

pretence that the ceremonies of the day were too long. Thus a scene

was exhibited of which neither the congregation nor myself had ever

been spectators before.

And again:--

By the manner in which he concerted his plans, in waiting until

the eve of the days on which I was to appear in public, and

then sending me, on a sudden, verbal messages by his clerk, and

afterwards such insulting notes as no Prelate would send to the

meanest clergyman in his diocese, one would be apt to imagine that

he played the part of a skilful general, who amuses an enemy the

better to decoy him unprepared into an ambuscade.

I was surprised at such peremptory mandates from a man who, at

most, could pretend but to an equality.... But his view was, either

to disgust me with the chapel, or to commit me with the public, in

thus thwarting me in the exercise of my functions.

O'Leary was the lion of the hour; his portrait looked out from the

windows of Bond Street and Piccadilly, surrounded by soul-stirring

sentiments culled from his published books.[624] There it was that Dr.

Hussey sought to reduce his prestige, which he considered overcharged,

and to destroy the confidence and respect usually manifested in his

regard. It is certain that he felt as uncomfortable in his society as

he had ever done in the hair shirt and enforced reserve of La Trappe.

He did not brand O'Leary as a spy; he could not do so without offending

the Government; but he raised what lawyers call 'a false issue.' Indeed

O'Leary charges the doctor, on strong circumstantial evidence, with

having supplied to the newspapers paragraphs in which an unworthy

innuendo is advanced, and one by no means calculated to exalt the

friar's reputation for asceticism: 'In proportion as the breach widened

between us, the paragraphs rose in a climax to a greater degree of

asperity.'[625]

Many curious things transpire in this _brochure_, and amongst them

the following: 'I got the very singular information,' writes O'Leary,

'that some years before, in a boarding school at Hampstead, then under

his (Hussey's) direction, he took my picture out of a frame, tore it

in several pieces, and cast it away with disdain, saying, "One would

imagine he is founder of this establishment."'[626] Here again I submit

that Dr. Hussey raised a false issue, and his dislike to O'Leary, as

evidenced by this strong proceeding, must have had deeper grounds than

the paltry plea assigned.

When this affair relative to the picture happened [writes O'Leary]

I was in Ireland, in the full bloom of my reputation,[627] which I

would have preserved unfaded to the last moment of my existence,

had it not spread on the lips of a man to whom I cannot apply the

Italian proverb, Whatever your mouth touches, it heals: 'La vostra

bocca sana quel die tocca' (p. 14).

Dr. Hussey, as already stated, was in the secrets of the Crown. In

1784 Sydney tells Orde, rightly or wrongly, that O'Leary had consented

to furnish private information. In 1789 O'Leary, as we have seen,

removed to London and settled down in alarming proximity not only to

Hussey, but to the minister of Spain. Hussey's attachment to Spanish

interests, Cumberland states, outweighed his devotion to his English

patrons, and of course it was highly inconvenient that a man who played

fast and loose with both should be domesticated with O'Leary. 'They are

all of them designing knaves,' writes Orde, and doubtless he and his

colleagues, acting on the coarse prejudice thus expressed, urged the

arrangement on the principle of 'set a thief to catch a thief.' The

more refined Sydney probably calculated that it would be 'diamond cut

diamond' between them.

The effort it must have cost so polished a person as Dr. Hussey to

pursue the course ascribed to him may be inferred from the words

of Charles Butler: 'He was a man of great genius, of enlightened

piety, with manners at once imposing and elegant, and of enchanting

conversation: he did not come in contact with many whom he did not

subdue: the highest rank often sunk before him.' Cumberland, his

companion in the secret mission, describes him as wearing 'a smile

seductive; his address was smooth, obsequious, studiously obliging and,

at times, glowingly heightened into an impassioned show of friendship

and affection. He was quick enough,' he adds, 'in finding out the

characters of men.'

O'Leary appealed to Bishop Douglas, and a meeting between the parties

took place at his house. The result was a written statement, dated June

21, 1791, that Dr. Hussey never had any crime or immoral conduct to

allege against O'Leary, and that he had left the Spanish Ambassador's

chapel of his own free will. 'Mr. O'Leary and I have come to a full

explanation upon all past misunderstandings, and are both satisfied

with the explanation,' writes Dr. Hussey. This paper was certified

by Bishops Douglas and Berington[628] and by Francis Plowden to be

conformable to Dr. Hussey's verbal declaration. The finale was worthy

of an ecclesiastic who wished to avoid disedifying the laity by

unseemly wrangles. But, privately, Dr. Hussey took means to prevent a

recurrence of an incident which greatly annoyed him. The Castlereagh

Papers contain a letter to Lord Hobart from Sir J. Cox Hippisley, in

which he mentions as having been reported to Rome, 'a very offensive

measure of Hussey's in a way so as to have produced a sort of censure

on Bishop Douglas of London.' Dr. Hussey, it is stated, had claimed

the right, as chaplain to the Spanish mission, of nominating priests

to officiate at the Spanish chapel in London independently of Bishop

Douglas.[629]

Frequent reference has been already made to Del Campo. The concluding

words of O'Leary's 'Narrative' go on to say:--

I intended to complain in person or to write a severe letter

against him to the Marquis del Campo,[630] than whom there are

few ambassadors[631] of a more amiable disposition, or in whose

train a chaplain would be more happy. But, expecting never to be

disturbed by Mr. [Hussey], after leaving him in the unrivalled

possession of his pulpit and controversy, I retired without the

slightest murmur. Had I even been treated with that civility to

which I was entitled, I would yet have quitted York Street. We were

on the eve of a war with Spain, and from my peculiar obligations to

my own sovereign, in case of a threatened invasion, I would have

returned to Ireland, where, upon a similar occasion, the exertions

in the line of my profession had been attended with the happiest

results in promoting that loyalty which recommends my Religion and

countrymen.

Here O'Leary, though so recently attached to the Spanish embassy,

declares himself a partisan, if not a sentinel, in the English

interest. It appears that, while officiating at Spanish Place, he

lodged in Warwick Street, probably acting as assistant chaplain to

the Bavarian embassy as well, and where, as Mrs. Bellamy records, he

arrived opportunely, in 1783, to adjust angry difficulties that had

arisen in that quarter. Seven years later, although ostensibly pastor

of St. Patrick's, Soho, from 1790 to his death, he seems still attached

in some way to the Bavarian chapel and embassy, for the preface to

his sermon in denunciation of French principles is dated from Warwick

Street, though the sermon itself had been preached at St. Patrick's.

In March 1797, O'Leary's desire to retain the favour of Pitt is

traceable in the sermon to which reference has just been made. It was

preached before a congregation mainly Irish, but embracing also the

famous Duchess of Devonshire, and many other great personages.[632] Its

aim is apparent in the account given of it by the 'Monthly Review' as

'a discourse well adapted to keep alive a high degree of good, warm,

Christian hatred of the French, on whom the preacher is very severe,

with now and then a stroke of pleasantry, sarcasm and rough wit.'

Ireland had been nearly lost to England the previous year by Hoche's

expedition to Bantry Bay, but England's unsubsidised allies, the winds,

had come to her aid. O'Leary's discourse, occupying fifty pages, was at

once issued in pamphlet shape, and reprinted in Dublin.

As has been already observed, O'Leary maintained cordial relations with

some men who bore a bad name. Francis Higgins, originally a Newgate

felon, became at last a most influential negotiator. Plowden exhibits

fully his unpleasant character in the 'Historical Review,' vol. ii.

pp. 256-9. 'This man' he says, 'had the address, by coarse flattery

and assumed arrogance, to worm himself into the intimacy of several

persons of rank and consequence, who demeaned themselves by their

obsequiousness to his art, or sold themselves to him. The fact that

he died worth 40,000_l._ is highly illustrative of the system which

generated, fostered, and pampered this species of reptile.' Higgins is

shown by the 'Cornwallis Papers' to have been a spy on a great scale.

There is reason to know that he wormed himself into the confidence of

O'Leary; and reason to fear that he turned it to account. The man who

began his career by duping a Jesuit and obtaining his co-operation

in making an heiress his wife, is not likely to have failed with the

genial Franciscan. Higgins early won the friendship of O'Leary; and

his bequest 'to my long and faithful friend, the Rev. Arthur O'Leary,'

has been already noticed. Fidelity to Shamado seems like fidelity to

Mephistopheles!

Higgins liked to utilise profitably the information he acquired from

pliable Catholics like Magan.[633] Magan was a barrister, and held

his head high. It will be remembered that Higgins drew from him the

secret of Lord Edward Fitzgerald's hiding place, and for this service

alone received 1,000_l._ in hand, and a pension of 300_l._ a year. The

'Sham Squire' was not the man to leave money, in 1791, 'to his long and

faithful friend,' O'Leary, unless he had made more than the amount by

the use of him. Higgins claims O'Leary as a dear friend; the habits of

the time warrant the assumption that he was his boon companion too. In

the unguarded intimacy of social intercourse, that frank and affable

nature is likely to have enriched the Squire's stock of gossip. To what

extent that confidence was unfolded can be now but darkly surmised.

O'Leary, if called upon to reveal information to the Government, may

have acted with reserve. In softer moments[634] much may have leaked

out which was not deliberate betrayal.

It is casually stated by Mr. Lecky (vol. vii. p. 211) that Higgins, in

enumerating his services to the Government, especially mentions the

expense he had incurred in entertaining priests, and other persons

of the higher class, for the purpose of obtaining intelligence. In

one respect O'Leary's intercourse with Higgins worked for good. The

newspaper of the latter, though an organ of Orangeism, advocated the

Catholic claims.

In 1796 Dr. Hussey, afterwards Bishop of Waterford, seems to have

accepted the post of secret agent,--probably not widely dissimilar from

that which the statesmen of 1784 thought O'Leary would not object to

discharge. Higgins, writing to Dublin Castle in October 1796, expresses

regret that the Government had not been very judicious in their

selection of 'an agent for acting on the Catholics.[635] 'The Roman

Catholic body hold a superficial opinion of Dr. Hussey as a courtly

priest. If anything was to be effected or wished to be done in the

Roman Catholic body, Dr. O'Leary would do more with them in one hour

than Hussey in seven years. Of this I am perfectly assured; and O'Leary

not ten days since wrote me word he would shortly claim a bed at my

house.'

O'Leary had a nephew for whom in a recently published letter he hopes

to provide a berth when some friends of his would regain their power.

The allusion no doubt is to Fox and the Whigs. This is the nephew

noticed by Francis Higgins, in a secret letter to Under-Secretary Cooke

eight months before the rebellion. 'At a meeting at Bond's, which Lord

Edward Fitzgerald and O'Connor attended, O'Connor read a letter from

Fox which had been delivered to him (O'C.) by O'Leary, nephew of Dr.

O'Leary, who had arrived from London with despatches from Mr. Fox,

and set off in the mail for Cork the same night.' These despatches

concurred with the United Irishmen as to the necessity of enforcing a

parliamentary reform.[636]

The bequest of Higgins to O'Leary is noticed as strange by the priest's

biographer. Was it meant by way of restitution, seeing that the compact

to pay O'Leary had been broken? As in the case of the betrayal of Lord

Edward Fitzgerald by Magan, 'Shamado' no doubt pocketed the lion's

share.

The will of Francis Higgins goes on to say: 'To Andrew D. O'Kelly,

of Piccadilly, London, I leave 300_l._: declaring that if I did not

know that he, my friend, was in great affluence, I would have freely

bequeathed him any property I might be possessed of.' This was the

man sometimes known as Count O'Kelly, but more generally as Colonel

O'Kelly. An Irish judge who once acted as advising counsel for the

legatees of O'Kelly, informs me that the latter was originally a

jockey, afterwards a successful blackleg, and was made colonel of a

regiment that never existed, simply by the Prince Regent addressing

him under that title. This explains a remark made by the 'St. James's

Gazette,' that 'his military rank, whatever right he may have had to

it, as well as to his Countship, could never obtain for him an entrance

to the clubs of his fellow sportsmen.'[637] He owned the racehorse

'Eclipse,' and by its aid netted 124,000_l._

There has been much discussion by O'Leary's biographers upon Plowden's

statement as to the stoppage of the pension, and they vainly try to

account for so harsh a step. 'What the reason for this withholding

was, it is not easy to ascertain,' writes Father Buckley; but, from an

observation in the 'Life of Grattan,' by his son, we surmise that it

must have been because O'Leary refused to comply with a request made by

the minister, that he _would write in the support of the Union_.[638]

Plowden takes care to say that the pension was 'hush money.' Buckley's

argument demands, however, a fuller reply.

The agitation against the Union took place chiefly in 1799. O'Leary

died in January 1802, soon after the Union became law. Plowden, through

whom he got the arrears paid, says that it was 'after a _lapse of many

years_, by importunity and solicitation, and _repeated proofs_ of his

having complied with the _secret conditions_, he received a large

arrear.' Therefore there could not have been time for all this in the

interval between the Union and O'Leary's death.

But, in point of fact, O'Leary _did_ express himself publicly in

favour of the Union. His 'Address to the Lords Spiritual and Temporal,'

dated from O'Kelly's house, and published in June 1800, mentions

that he is 'a great friend to the Union, and reconciled many to it;'

and then follows much clever argument in support of the measure.

This rather spoils the statement in Grattan's 'Life,' quoted by the

biographer of O'Leary as proof that he spurned Pitt's proposal to

support the Union.

Colonel O'Kelly [writes Grattan] related that, at the period of the

Union, Mr. Pitt offered a considerable pension to O'Leary, provided

he would exert himself among his Roman Catholic countrymen, and

write in support of the Union; but every application was in vain;

O'Leary steadfastly resisted Mr. Pitt's solicitations, and, though

poor, he rejected the offers of the minister, and could not be

seduced from his allegiance to his country.

The newspapers recording O'Leary's death, in January 1802, say that he

died at his lodgings in Great Portland Street, London. When the Union

was carried, he probably got his _congé_ from O'Kelly. This man, of bad

odour, became a Crœsus in wealth, and eventually a sort of Brummagem

Brummell, deep in the confidence of George, Prince of Wales.[639]

O'Leary is found living with O'Kelly in Mayfair, London, and some of

his pamphlets are dated from 46 Half-Moon Street, Piccadilly, the

'Colonel's' house.[640] Father Buckley is puzzled 'how our worthy

friar contracted so close an intimacy with a man of tastes and habits

apparently so little congenial to his own.'[641] Perhaps O'Kelly[642]

was the trustee in whose name O'Leary got a pension on secret

conditions. Plowden is the only writer who alludes to the intervention

of a trustee. He was very intimate with O'Kelly, and witnessed his will

in 1820. The Prince of Wales had already made O'Kelly the medium for

paying a secret pension of 300_l._ a year to Chifney the jockey, in

consideration of having designedly lost a race at Epsom.[643]

I now come to a startling piece of evidence, calculated, almost, to

make one exclaim with Luke (xix. 22), 'Out of thy own mouth I judge

thee.' The testimony of no less a witness than O'Leary himself claims

to be heard.

More than sixty years after the death of O'Leary, Father Buckley was

informed in writing, by a relative of the deceased, that O'Leary, when

dying, often exclaimed, 'Alas! I have _betrayed_ my poor country.'[644]

The informant's impression is that O'Leary's remorse was due to having,

at the request of Pitt, acquiesced in the Union, notwithstanding

that we have 'Colonel' O'Kelly's testimony that 'O'Leary withstood

Pitt's solicitations to support that measure.' The Catholic bishops

of Ireland cordially encouraged the Union, as the Castlereagh Papers

show--and we do not hear that Dr. Troy and his _confrères_ felt much

remorse--although, in addition to their support of the Union, they

signed resolutions in favour of giving to a Protestant king a veto in

the appointment of Catholic prelates.

But the letter of O'Leary's kinsman must not be dismissed without

quoting its context. 'Pitt,' he writes, 'promised the emancipation

of Catholics and repeal of the Penal Laws, if he (O'Leary) would

acquiesce, &c. He did; and so silence was deemed consent. Pitt obtained

the Union; then resigned his office; and tricky enough,' adds O'Leary's

kinsman, 'said he could not keep his promise.'

This is slightly misleading. Pitt had given a pledge, through

Cornwallis, to Archbishop Troy that he would not accept office except

on condition that the Catholic claims were to be met. In 1801, owing

to the fixed resolve of the King against Emancipation, Pitt went out.

His conduct, therefore, was so far straight. When he returned to power

in 1804, in complete violation of that compact, O'Leary had been two

years dead.

Among O'Leary's admirers there was none more ardent than the late Lord

Chancellor O'Hagan, in whose now deserted study still hangs a fine

portrait of the friar, inscribed with soul-stirring sentiments on which

O'Hagan had long sought to shape his own course. This gentleman could

not bring himself to believe Mr. Froude's charge branding O'Leary as

a spy, and was unable to rest until he read with his own eyes at the

State Paper Office the original correspondence. He returned to Dublin

declaring that the imputation was but too well founded. This view,

coming from a man of judicial mind, might be taken as conclusive;

but yet, one is unwilling to see a great reputation wrecked, without

wishing to throw out a hope or a plank by which there is a chance of

saving it. This plank is, indeed, a poor one; but, just as a sinking

man will grasp even at a straw, humanity suggests that no effort should

be left untried to keep the struggler afloat.

The two letters which led Lord O'Hagan to his reluctant conclusion are

now before the reader. In neither is the Christian name of O'Leary

given; but no other priest of the name obtained contemporary notice.

The most damaging bit of evidence is Sydney's letter to Rutland

announcing that O'Leary, having been talked to by Nepean, was willing

to do what was wished for 100_l._ a year.[645] These letters bear

date 1784, eighteen years before O'Leary's death. No letters of his

in any way compromising him have been found. The voluminous papers of

Pelham, the Irish Secretary, from 1795 to 1798 do not once mention

his name. 'I have certainly never seen any reports from O'Leary to

the Government,' writes Mr. Lecky in reply to an inquiry; 'and I have

quoted in my History every passage I have come across in which he is

ever mentioned.'[646] These passages are few.

O'Leary was a decided humourist: no one conversing with him felt quite

sure when he meant to be serious. In the 'talk' that passed he may

have played the diplomat. We have seen how Orde distrusted him. To

a request blandly urged in personal converse by a statesman who had

already pensioned him, this friar, existing merely by connivance, could

not afford to assume attitudes of offended dignity. A glimpse of his

precarious position is caught from a speech of Grattan's:--

At the time that this very man lay under the censure of a law

which, in his own country, made him subject to transportation or

death, from religious distinctions, and at the time that a prince

of his own religion threatened this country with an invasion, this

respectable character took up his pen and, unsolicited and without

a motive but that of real patriotism, urged his own communion

to peace, and to support the law which had sentenced himself to

transportation.[647]

Nepean and Orde suggested certain inquiries which O'Leary was to make;

but who can tell at what point of these inquiries the practised casuist

may have meant to draw the line? A hundred pounds a year, which Nepean

says he named, seems marvellously small for the magnitude and risk of

the service expected. Orde writes on September 8, 1784, expressing

satisfaction that Nepean, in London, had 'settled matters with O'Leary,

who can get to the bottom of all secrets in which the Catholics are

concerned, and they are certainly the chief promoters of our present

disquietude.' A fortnight later, after an interview with the priest at

Dublin Castle, he adds, (September 24, 1784): 'O'Leary has it in his

power, _if we can depend upon him_, to discover to us the real designs

of the Catholics, from which quarter, after all, the real mischief is

to spring.' O'Leary must have known that, in 1784, _no_ treasonable

designs were harboured by the Catholics, and probably felt that he

would be safe in making the inquiries prescribed. Mr. Lecky, a most

patient historic investigator, a man who has searched more secret

sources of sound information than any other writer of Irish history,

while he considers that the letters just quoted prove O'Leary a spy

(p. 369), yet, in describing this very time, doubts

whether the Catholics themselves took any considerable part in

these agitations. For a long period an almost death-like torpor

hung over the body, and, though they formed the great majority

of the Irish people, they hardly counted even in movements of

opinion. Even when they were enrolled in volunteer corps there

were no traces of Catholic leaders. There was, it is true, still

a Catholic Committee which watched over Catholic interests;

Lord Kenmare and a few other leading Catholics were in frequent

communication with the Government; two or three Catholic bishops

at this time did good service in repressing Whiteboyism; and Dr.

Troy, who was then Bishop of Ossory, received the warm thanks of

the Lord-Lieutenant;[648] but for the most part the Catholics stood

wholly apart from political agitation.

I do not like repetitions; but they are sometimes a necessity, as in

judicial summing-up. Twelve days after O'Leary had been set to work,

the Chief Secretary at Dublin Castle seems quite dissatisfied with him.

The tone in which our humourist's reports were pitched may be guessed

from the following passage in a later pamphlet from his pen[649]:--

Lord Chesterfield, on his return from his Viceroyship, informed George

II. that he had met in Ireland but _two dangerous Papists_, of whom

_His Majesty should be aware_--two [comely] ladies named Devereux, who

had danced at the Castle on the King's birth-night. All the viceroys of

Ireland, from Lord Chesterfield to Earl Camden, could have made a much

similar answer, if interrogated, concerning what is called the _danger

of Popery_.[650]

Whether from this tone, or from other causes, the Government

became quite disappointed with their man; for, as Plowden states,

they withheld his pension, and 'an arbitrary refusal for many years

threw the reverend pensioner on his friends for subsistence.' 'The

unexplained cause,' noticed by Dr. England,[651] may, perhaps, here be

guessed. O'Leary, as Sydney states, consented, in 1784, to make the

secret inquiries which Orde wished, and probably to offer such advice

as his experience should suggest; but the idea thrown out at an early

stage of this study seems likely enough,--that, after he had made due

efforts to find out the truth, he pleasantly assured the Government

that no French emissaries had been to Dublin at all; that the Catholics

were loyal subjects; and, instead of a slumbering volcano, that Rutland

had found a mare's nest! This Viceroy's letter will be remembered in

which he drew a highly sensational picture of alleged secret doings

in Dublin. It was he who first urged on Sydney the wisdom of securing

O'Leary as a spy, and Sydney soon after reports the negotiation

as successful. But we have no testimony from Nepean with whom the

interview took place. When Rutland spoke, Orde spoke; the act of one

was the act of the other. Both were equally fluent as correspondents;

but during the three subsequent years that they held office at Dublin

Castle, we find no letters from either announcing any discoveries made

by O'Leary, and which, no doubt, they would have been only too glad to

do as confirming their own forecast, and building up a reputation for

subtle statesmanship.

More troublesome times came within the next ten years: the Society of

United Irishmen spread with alarming rapidity; and if O'Leary had any

wish to play the spy, he had now a grand opportunity by simulating

ardent patriotism like McNally and others. His great sermon in 1797 was

a declaration of war against French principles, and against all who

adopted the policy of revolution. Again, when it became necessary for

him to preach the panegyric of Pius VI., who died at this time, he went

out of his way to run full tilt against democracy. The 'Courier,' a

popular organ, thus describes it:--

Abounding with glowing imagery, classical allusion, and displaying

in every sentence the energy of an enlightened and vigorous mind,

the Doctor took occasion to felicitate his flock, in the most

emphatic terms, on the happiness enjoyed in this country, on the

constitution and state of which he pronounced a fine panegyric,

happily applying to the extent of our dominion and national glory

the line of the poet--

Imperium Oceano, famamque terminat astris.

O'Leary's friends will hope that it was by this tone, rather than by

playing the ignominious _rôle_ of a spy, that he sought to regain

governmental favour.

The sole remaining letter in the carefully preserved records of the

informers of '98 which names O'Leary must not be excluded here. Things

had quite changed since 1784. Higgins, in a secret letter to Dublin

Castle, dated January 2, 1798, says:--

I took leave to inform you, some time since, that many Roman

Catholics seem apparently sorry for the lengths they've been led,

and suggested, if O'Leary, or any popular preacher, was to exert

himself among them, thousands would come to swear allegiance. I

know O'Leary would be a tower of strength among them. He was their

first champion, and is most highly respected by the multitude. His

writings and preaching prevented the White Boys and insurgents of

the South from joining the rabble of Cork and rising _en masse_ at

the period when the combined fleets of Spain, France, etc., were in

the English Channel.[652]

Higgins does not say that O'Leary authorised him to make this

proposition; and even had he done so, it cannot be deemed base.

Orde's letters to the Home Office in 1784, though urging extreme

caution lest he and his colleagues should be themselves betrayed, show

him to be impulsive in statement, and prone to jump to conclusions.

These letters, blemished by an occasional expletive, are printed by Mr.

Lecky. Orde is quite sanguine as regards wonderful Catholic secrets

that O'Leary would unearth, but this is not the only case in which he

exhibits rashness of assumption.

These notes must now end. If their freedom and fulness need

justification, it is found, perhaps, in O'Leary's own words. He had

meditated a history of the political events of 1780.

The duty of the Historian [he writes] binds him to arraign at

the impartial tribunal of truth both men and actions; unmask the

leading characters; examine into their motives; lay open the hidden

springs of proceedings, whether worthy of applause, or deserving

to be doomed to censure; and embellish his narrative with suitable

reflections. No person is obliged to write a history [he adds], but

when he writes it he must tell the truth.[653]

A word remains to be said respecting Parker, the second agent named

in Orde's letter of 1784. He is not so easily identified as Father

O'Leary. The Irish books which treat of the period may be vainly

searched for the name of Parker. It has been said that the adventurous

spirit, who thirteen years later aroused by his eloquence the British

navy to mutiny, was identical or connected with Orde's agent. I do

not bind myself to the truth of this theory; nor am I able to prove

a negative; but certainly some circumstances support it worthy of

consideration; and having promised in a former chapter to recur to

Parker of the Nore, I am afforded an opportunity for doing so by Mr.

Froude's account of the secret mission to Dublin. Orde's agent arrived

there in September 1784, to overreach and, as we are told, outmouth

noisy patriots. It is true that Parker the mutineer was finally

executed by the English authorities; but Jemmy O'Brien, the spy, also

swung at the same hands. The former had received a classical education,

and had served in the navy during the American War. His character

was bad. His irrepressible oratory and power of influencing minds

got him into scrapes. He married a woman with some property, which

he dissipated, and was then imprisoned for debt. Released at length,

he was sent on board the royal fleet as a 'supernumerary seaman,'

to quote Portland's proclamation offering 500_l._ for his arrest.

'The address, ready eloquence, but, above all,' says Rose, 'the deep

dissimulation he possessed, gave him vast influence over his comrades.'

If true that Parker was sent on board the fleet to counteract mutiny,

the result only shows that it is possible for an extinguisher to take

fire. In his written defence, read on the fourth day of his trial, he

'solemnly declared that his only object of entering into the mutiny was

that of checking a most dangerous spirit of revolt which had prevailed

in the different ships, the bad effects of which he had done all in

his power to prevent.' How he fanned the flame of mutiny, and on its

outburst was appointed 'President,' we have already seen. This was in

1797. Who is the Parker, with persuasive oratorical powers, that is

sent on a questionable mission to Ireland in 1784? It may be said that

this cannot be Parker who afterwards figured at the Nore, because at

the time of the secret mission to Dublin he was serving in the navy

at a far distant place. The following words of Gorton make it hard to

prove an 'alibi' for Richard Parker.[654] After describing his service

during the American War, Gorton writes: 'On peace taking place he

retired from his professional duties.' American independence had been

won in 1778; but the articles of peace were not signed by England until

November 30, 1782. Therefore Parker could be easily in Dublin in 1784.

Mr. Froude's remarks about him are meagre, but it may be gleaned that

the Parker of '84 was a man qualified and ready to keep a dark diary

of what he observed. Parker of the Nore had the same habit. When he

was searched, an elaborate diary of the proceedings which had taken

place on shipboard was found. Parker's wife testified to the fact

that he was rhapsodical and eccentric, but the plea failed to save his

life. Orde, in announcing the arrival of Parker of '84, speaks of his

'rhapsodies,' and avows a misgiving that he might not act discreetly.

The written defence of Parker of the Nore was highly rhapsodical, and

the reverse of discreet. But he had abundant talent. Parker of '84 is

described as an accomplished orator, and a good hand at sedition. So

was Richard Parker. The former was an expert in dissimulation. The same

character is given of Richard Parker by Rose. It may be also noteworthy

that Orde's agent hailed from London. Mr. Froude assumes that Parker

was an Irishman; the name is certainly English.

The 'Courier' of October 14, 1797, records some conversations with

Richard Parker which afford a sample of the rhapsodical eloquence which

had so often entranced his audience. An officer on board the ship that

held him prisoner expressed impatience at not getting ahead, as the

winds were contrary. 'What!' said Parker, 'are you not satisfied with

having an admiral of the British fleet in chains, but you must also

usurp the command of the elements? Or, because you have the honour to

be my executioner, are you likewise as mad as the Persian tyrant who

ordered his minions to lash the waves?' Much more of his talk is given.

The 'Courier' states that 'from peculiar energy of intellect, his

diction, even in common conversation, was bold and original.'

FOOTNOTES:

[603] The Viceroy of Ireland.

[604] _Memoirs of the Courts and Cabinets of George III., from Original

Family Documents_, by the Duke of Buckingham and Chandos, 1853.

[605] _Ibid._

[606] Dr. England, the first biographer of O'Leary, mentions that his

pension had been charged on the _Irish_ Establishment.

[607] _Narrative of the Misunderstanding between Rev. A. O'Leary and

Rev. Mr. Hussey_, p. 11. (Dublin, 1791.)

[608] _Life of O'Leary_, by Rev. T. England, p. 190.

[609] The good Priest does not quite deny the statement though seeming

to do so.

[610] With Lord Moira, too--a great Whig power in those days--O'Leary

was specially intimate; and it was this peer who erected in St.

Pancras the monument to his 'virtues and talents,' for which the

_Tablet_ newspaper, fifty years later, opened a subscription list to

restore,--in such enduring honour was the memory of this marvellous

friar held.

[611] England's _Life of O'Leary_, p. 289. (London, 1822.)

[612] See _ante_, p. 214.

[613] _Life of the Rev. A. O'Leary_, by the Rev. M. B. Buckley, pp.

304-5.

[614] Vide _ante_, p. 213.

[615] See Alison's _History of Europe_, ii. 30, 203, 425.

[616] See p. 218, _ante_.

[617] Buckley's _O'Leary_, p. 306.

[618] Cumberland's _Memoirs_, ii. 62-5. (London, 1807.) Dr. Hussey had

died four years previous to their publication.

[619] _Ibid._

[620] Previously, Dr. Hussey is found at Vienna, hand in glove with the

Emperor Joseph of Austria. See England's _O'Leary_, p. 199.

[621] _A Narrative of the Misunderstanding, etc._ p. 7.

[622] Cumberland's _Memoirs_, ii. 2.

[623] Del Campo lived in the well-known palatial structure opposite the

old chapel in Spanish Place, described by Thackeray as 'Gaunt House,'

and lately occupied by Sir Richard Wallace. The defeat of the Armada

in 1588 had marked an epoch in the history of the British Empire, and

Englishmen uneasily regarded the feasts and intrigues in Manchester

Square.

[624] One, published in 'April, 1784, by Keating, of Bond Street,'

displays the following fine sentiment: 'Let not religion--the sacred

name of religion--which even in the face of an enemy discovers a

brother, be any longer a wall of separation to keep us asunder.'

[625] _A Narrative of the Misunderstanding between the Rev. Arthur

O'Leary and the Rev. Mr. Hussey._ (Dublin: printed at No. 75, Aungier

Street, 1791.)

[626] _Ibid._ p. 13.

[627] O'Leary's comment on Hussey's treatment of his picture is

amusing. 'When Constantine the Great was informed that stones were cast

at his statue, he rubbed his forehead and said that he did not feel

himself hurt. And I can say that my body was not lacerated when my

picture was torn.'

[628] Why Dr. Berington, Bishop of the Midland District, should be

called in was, clearly, because a schism threatened the diocese in

consequence of the Pope appointing Dr. Douglas bishop in opposition

to the strenuous efforts made by the Catholic Committee to get Dr.

Berington translated to London. Several lay members of that league

went so far as to maintain that the clergy and laity ought to choose

their own bishops without any reference to Rome, and procure their

consecration at the hands of any other lawful bishop. After the

appointment of Dr. Douglas, they even threatened to pronounce it

'obnoxious and improper.' Dr. Berington, however, addressed a printed

letter to the London clergy, resigning all pretension to the London

vicariate, and soon the schismatical opposition to Dr. Douglas was

withdrawn. See Brady's _Catholic Hierarchy in England_, pp. 178-9.

(Rome, 1877.)

[629] On visiting this chapel, in 1888, a fine relic of the ancient

splendour of Spain, I found it very much as it was in the days of

Father O'Leary. A study of Dr. Hussey's face, by Gainsborough, is

preserved here, as well as some maps and papers in the autograph of

the former. The foundation stone of a new church to replace it, and

near the old one, was laid by Cardinal Manning, on June 27, 1887,

in presence of the Infanta of Spain and the Spanish minister. Canon

Barry, the present pastor, mentions an interesting tradition connected

with Tyburn tree, which, as is well known, stood near the Marble

Arch: 'The Chapel of the Spanish Embassy was, during the dark days of

persecution, a special home for Catholics. Many a martyr on his way to

Tyburn received the blessing of the chaplain of the embassy and was

aided by the prayers offered in the Spanish Chapel for perseverance in

his conflict for the faith.' The Canon, in the course of a statistical

detail, adds: 'When war between England and Spain broke out, the usual

payments made by Spain for the support of the chapel fell 4,000_l._

into arrears. Diplomatic relations having been again suspended between

England and Spain in 1805, the chapel was confided to the care of Don

Miguel de la Torre.'

[630] Del Campo ceased, soon after, to be Spanish minister to St.

James's, and was succeeded by the Chevalier Azara. The latter had great

influence at the Vatican, and proposed that Dr. Hussey should be the

channel of communication between the Pope and the British Government.

_Castlereagh Papers_ iii. 86.

[631] An historic writer, Sir Nathaniel Wraxall, famous rather for

pleasant gossip than for strict accuracy, states that the Spanish

embassy in London maintained friendly relations with England. But what

was the prevailing idea in Spanish diplomatic circles at this time

is traceable in a despatch of Talleyrand published last year (1890)

by M. Pallain. Talleyrand states, on the authority of the personal

assurance of the Spanish minister, that nearly all the sailors who man

the British fleet are Irish, and from love of country would turn their

guns on England. The accurate number will be found set forth at p. 114,

_ante_.

[632] The sermon was preached in St. Patrick's, Soho, where O'Leary

mainly officiated. Last year (1891) the chapel was in process of

demolition.

[633] _Vide_ chap. xi. _ante_.

[634] Father Buckley, the biographer of O'Leary, died soon after the

date of the following letter. It notices a weakness, of which a paid

purveyor of news, like Higgins, would be apt to take ready advantage.

Shamado is likely to have been the more successful because his own

character of a brain-sucker and betrayer had not then been unmasked.

On December 7, 1869, Father Buckley writes from SS. Peter and Paul's,

Cork: 'The _Personal Memoirs_ have arrived, and I am much pleased with

them. The sketch of O'Leary I am sorry I had not seen, to embody in

my book. I fear, however, it would not have tended much to enhance

the esteem of the good _padre's_ character, inasmuch as, in the

background of the picture, there is a strong steam of whisky-punch,

and the narrative affords a strong confirmation of what Michael Kelly

records that Father O'Leary, like himself, was rather partial to "Saint

Patrick's Eye-Water."

[635] It cannot be said that this agency was of a base character. In

1795, Dr. Hussey announces to Edmund Burke that the Catholics were

loyal and ready to spill their blood to resist the French (Lecky,

vii. 90). Mr. Lecky states that he was 'constantly employed by the

Government in negotiations with the Irish Catholics.' In September

1794, Dr. Hussey, then an _employé_ of the Crown, comes over to consult

with the Catholic bishops at Dublin on new measures of education

(Lecky, vii. 121). The foundation of Maynooth College was the result.

[636] Higgins to Cooke, September 1, 1797. (MSS. Dublin Castle.)

[637] _Vide_ 'Fathers of the Turf,' in _St. James's Gazette_, January

6, 1881. The writer adds that O'Kelly is said to have held post-obits

to a large amount, 'and his transactions were upon so large a scale

that he might be seen turning over "quires" of bank-notes in search of

a "little one," by which term he meant one for £50.' In the Registry of

Deeds Office, Dublin, is preserved a document, dated February 12, 1819,

whereby the Marquis of Donegal secures to O'Kelly the sum of 27,934_l._

12_s._ 4_d._, a gambling debt, and O'Kelly is described as Andrew Denis

O'Kelly, Esq., son and heir apparent of Philip Kelly, Esq., deceased.

'Colonel' O'Kelly died in 1820, leaving no children.

[638] _Life of O'Leary_, by the Rev. M. B. Buckley, p. 357 (italics in

original).

[639] Vide _Ireland before the Union_, 6th ed. pp. 211-15. (Dublin:

Duffy.)

[640] Grattan's _Life_, by his Son. Those who may suppose that O'Leary

forgot the priest in the diplomat, should see Father Morgan D'Arcy's

account of the reforms he effected in the demoralised region of St.

Giles. _Vide_ Buckley, pp. 397 _et seq._

[641] _Life of O'Leary_, by Rev. M. B. Buckley, p. 359.

[642] See _ante_, p. 213.

[643] _Ireland before the Union_, pp. 211-15.

[644] _Life of the Rev. Arthur O'Leary_, by the Rev. M. B. Buckley, p.

355.

[645] See _ante_, p. 218.

[646] W. E. H. Lecky, Esq. to W. J. F., October 28, 1890.

[647] _Parliamentary Register_, Feb. 26, 1782.

[648] In a letter signed by Orde.

[649] _Address to the Lords Spiritual and Temporal_, p. 12. (London,

1800.)

[650] O'Leary does not tell this anecdote correctly. It was not of

two ladies named Devereux, but of a famous beauty, Miss Ambrose, that

Chesterfield made this joke; and it was told, not to George II., but

to Lord North. Chesterfield addressed the following impromptu to Miss

Ambrose at a viceregal ball:--

'Pretty Tory, where's the jest

Of wearing orange on a breast

Which, in whiteness, doth disclose

The beauty of the rebel rose?'

[651] See _ante_, p. 220.

[652] Francis Higgins to Under-Secretary Cooke. (MSS. Dublin Castle.)

[653] _Postscript to Miscellaneous Tracts_, 1781.

[654] Richard Parker is usually described as a common sailor. A

statement from his widow appears in the _Courier_ of July 5, 1797:

she claimed Parker's corpse, and, when asked by the admiral for what

purpose, she answered, 'To have him interred like a gentleman, as he

had been bred.' The request was refused. Parker's corpse remained

exposed for years on the island of Sheppey, hung in chains until it

dropped to pieces at last. The London _Courier_ of the day insists that

he had been for some time a lieutenant in the Royal Navy.

Secret Service Under Pitt · 第 17 / 22 章