The Orange Government in Ireland was in the hands of two Lords Justices
named Coningsby and Porter, but as soon as the Treaty of Limerick ended
the hopes of the Jacobeans William decided to send one of his followers
as viceroy. There were many claimants on the king's gratitude, but
Henry Sidney, fourth son of Robert, second Earl of Leicester, one of
Charles I.'s viceroys, had been well rewarded by the Dutchman for his
treachery towards James. Sidney had been present at the Battle of the
Boyne, being now a viscount, and when there was plenty of Irish land
and money to be distributed Viscount Sidney received 50,000 acres and
an allowance of L2,000 a year. During the reign of Charles II. Sidney
had taken a prominent part in court life, and his beauty was such that
he was regarded as 'the greatest terror to husbands' of his day.
James, Duke of York, and his duchess, formerly Anne Hyde, took young
Sidney into their confidence, and gave him a court appointment. He
retorted by endeavouring to ruin the duchess's reputation, and when
they dismissed him he continued his plottings. He was successful in so
far that he caused a temporary separation between James {121} and his
wife; but at the accession of Charles's brother he was taken back into
favour. Sidney, however, was determined to act the part of the
traitor, and he quickly betrayed his cause to William. Besides this
fondness for plotting Sidney found time to earn the reputation of one
of the most immoral men, even in Charles's reign. He regarded every
woman of beauty as fit prey for his passion, and even when he was
nearly seventy his intrigues were the talk of London.
[Sidenote: Protestant Party dissatisfied]
This was the man William sent to represent him in Ireland, and when
Viscount Sidney arrived in Dublin in 1692 he was fifty-one years of
age, unmarried, and still very handsome. But he was not a statesman or
a soldier, and his position alone made him great. He was not equal to
the task of carrying out the changes created by the Treaty of
Limerick--a treaty hotly repudiated by the Protestant party in Ireland,
who, now that William's cause had triumphed, naturally looked for a
return of their supremacy and the subjection of the majority. Sidney's
conciliatory attitude towards the Catholics brought down upon him the
wrath of the Protestant clergy and aristocracy; Parliament met, and
denounced his indulgences to members of the rival faith, and, although
Sidney dissolved it, the effect on the king was considerable. He dare
not remove the viceroy, and yet Sidney was dangerous so long as he
remained in Ireland. A way out of the difficulty was found by the
'promotion' of the viceroy to the post of 'Master-General of the
Ordnance,' and in {122} 1694--the year after he vacated office--he was
created Earl of Romney.
Sidney never married, but he did not altogether escape the
responsibilities of parentage. He complained very often of the worry
many women gave him by pestering him with demands for the provision of
their children. During his brief viceroyalty one of his numerous
victims had the courage to beard him in Dublin Castle, and demand that
he should contribute towards the maintenance of the three children she
had borne him. Sidney dare not send the woman away empty-handed, and
he gave her L500; but the majority of his victims never received
anything, for he was as mean as he was vicious. Had it not been that
by accident he could claim to have given William and Mary the Crown of
England, Sidney would never have risen to any position at all. He
became prominent by sheer chance.
[Sidenote: Lord Capel of Tewkesbury]
It was expected that care would be taken to make the new viceroy
acceptable to the Protestant party; but there was a delay, and William
allowed the Government to be conducted by three Commissioners, the most
powerful being Sir Henry Capel, Lord Capel of Tewkesbury. Capel was a
fanatical Protestant and a bitter opponent of Roman Catholicism in all
shapes and forms. His fellow-commissioners were less ferocious, but
Capel managed to gain his way in most things, and he was viceroy in
reality, though not in name. Meanwhile the English party in Dublin
used every atom of influence to secure the elevation of Capel to the
viceroyalty, and in 1695 they succeeded. {123} The cause of
Protestantism seemed safe now, but Capel did not live long, and on May
14, 1696, he died in Dublin Castle. Capel is remembered mainly because
he gave Jonathan Swift his first preferment--the benefice of Kilroot,
worth about L100 a year. This was in 1695.
Commissioners in the persons of Lords Justices conducted the affairs of
State without the supervision of a viceroy. One of these was the Earl
of Berkeley, whose dealings with Dean Swift, when that eccentric cleric
was seeking a high appointment, have become historic. Berkeley was one
of the Lords Justices, and he had it in his power to bestow preferment,
but Swift was unable or unwilling to pay his price, and one day in a
rage he cried to Berkeley and his secretary: 'God confound you for a
couple of scoundrels!' On December 12, 1700, William appointed his
wife's uncle, Laurence Hyde, Earl of Rochester, a nobleman who had
accepted this office sixteen years before from Charles, and had not
troubled to journey to Ireland. His second appointment did not arouse
any enthusiasm either in the man or in the country he was called upon
to govern, and it was not until the following September that he landed
in Ireland. As a relative of the queen's--his sister, Anne Hyde, was
her mother--the Earl of Rochester carried greater authority than many
of his predecessors; but he was no statesman, and at sixty years of age
he was not inclined to try experiments. William thought he was
indolent and contemptuous of his duties, and in 1702 he {124} informed
him that he had been relieved of his office. Immediately, however,
further news came from London continuing Rochester in his office. This
was the result of the intervention by Queen Mary; but Rochester
resigned on February 4, 1703, rather than be subjected any longer to
the machinations of the Marlborough party at the court.
Lord Rochester returned to London in a passion scarcely cooled by the
length of the journey; but he was mollified somewhat by the fact that
his successor, the Duke of Ormonde, was his son-in-law. He had no
objection to his daughter reigning at Dublin Castle.
[Sidenote: The second Duke of Ormonde]
The Duke and Duchess of Ormonde were received with an enthusiasm in
Dublin that was reminiscent of the personal supremacy of the viceroy's
grandfather, known as the 'Great Duke.' The new viceroy had been
carefully educated for his position. A son of the celebrated Lord
Ossory, he had been from his birth in 1665 educated with a view to
future eminence in the service of the State. The boy's grandfather
sent him to France in 1675 to acquire the French language and the
polite arts of the centre of good manners and tone. When he was
seventeen he was married to Anne Hyde, a daughter of Laurence Hyde, and
a cousin to the Duchess of York. She died early the following year,
and when, in 1686, he married a daughter of the Duke of Beaufort, he
was a Lord of the Bedchamber to James II., and one of the most
influential of the younger nobility. The year of the Revolution
witnessed Ormonde's succession to the title and estates, and {125} he
became one of the most powerful pillars of the Protestant faith in the
country. The ancient Universities were in grave doubt as to the king's
intention, and Oxford, therefore, in order to secure the aid of such a
powerful nobleman in the cause of the Protestant faith, elected him
Chancellor. He had been a student at Christ Church, and the honour
was, therefore, a fit one.
James went to work cautiously to win over the young duke to his new
policy. He gave him the Garter, and hinted at even greater honours in
store for one who by his birth became entitled to nearly everything
that life had to offer. The question of religion, however, caused a
breach between James and the duke, and William's invasion of England
brought Ormonde to his side.
Ormonde's adhesion undoubtedly had the effect of bringing over to the
new monarch a great many persons in Ireland who had acted previously
like sheep without a shepherd. All that the dethroned king could do
was to declare Ormonde's estates forfeited and his person guilty of
high treason. But the acts of a fallen king are merely futilities, and
the Duke of Ormonde was able to witness the triumph at Boyne and know
that William's success meant his own. The duke's principal task in the
war was to secure Dublin for the king, and he accomplished this without
much difficulty, thanks to the weakness and mistake of his opponents
rather than to his own skill. Later he entertained William at his
ancestral home, Kilkenny Castle, in celebration of the royal successes.
{126}
The accession of Queen Anne, second daughter of James II., did not
affect Ormonde's high position in the State. He had stood by the
bedside of William, and he was one of those who settled the difficult
question of the succession. Queen Anne must have guessed that Ormonde
at heart wished for the success of the Jacobean cause, and it was
during her reign that he was successively Lord-Lieutenant of Ireland
and Captain-General of the Forces in England.
In 1703 Ormonde entered upon his first term of office as
Lord-Lieutenant of Ireland, and, of course, the Protestant party
welcomed him joyfully. Parliament met, and subserviently voted him a
subsidy, conscious of favours to come. But the viceroy did not fulfil
their hopes. Ormonde was not the man to stoop to persecution and
fraud, and, being only a layman, he could not see that religion covered
a multitude of sins. His Parliament grew unruly, and from asking for
favours began to demand them. This was too much for the grandson of
the great duke, and so he dissolved the assembly, as his powers
entitled him to do, and continued to rule, preferring, no doubt, the
private criticisms of Jonathan Swift, who was in his favour, rather
than submit to the arrogance of a minority as unscrupulous as it was
intolerant.
Swift was at this time beginning to make himself known in those high
circles which soon began to fear him. Ormonde liked the somewhat
eccentric clergyman, while the duchess and her daughters were delighted
with his witty conversation {127} and his powers of repartee. Swift,
however, was restlessly ambitious, and he was continually journeying to
London, returning each time more disappointed and more ambitious.
[Sidenote: Court intrigues]
It was one of the most peculiar periods in the history of England. The
daughter of James II. was on the throne, and it was the generally
accepted national policy that she should be the last of her family and
race to wear the crown. There were a dozen parties in the State, and
the poor queen had to suffer herself to be buffeted by the numerous
leaders, who plotted without principle, and were religious without
having any religion. Marlborough, Godolphin, Somers, and half a dozen
others buzzed round the queen. Ladies of high estate joined in the
numerous intrigues, and every party had its literary hacks and
hangers-on who wrote to order, and hoped to fatten on the carcass of
the State when their particular masters had triumphed. It was the
Golden Age of the wirepullers.
Ormonde's position in Dublin was at once safe and tantalizing. The
government was entirely in his hands, and he could do what he liked;
but the knowledge that the plotters in London might precipitate a
revolution or ruin the country made Ormonde--an ambitious man
himself--long to be free to take his own part in the underground fight.
The triumph of his opponents in 1707 naturally relieved him of his
office, and it was not until the end of 1710 that his party returned,
and the queen reappointed him.
Meanwhile Thomas Herbert, Earl of Pembroke, {128} and Thomas, Earl of
Wharton, ran their brief careers in the viceregal court. Ormonde's
second term lasted a little over two years, but his recall also brought
with it the higher post of Captain-General of the Forces and the sweet
satisfaction of seeing the Marlborough party in disfavour. No doubt,
if it had been possible, Ormonde would have used his great position to
insure the Jacobean succession, but he knew that public opinion was
unanimous in its detestation of the Stuarts, and that Jacobinism was
merely a harmless political theory to be debated by students and
ignored by statesmen. Bowing to the inevitable, Ormonde signed the
proclamation announcing the death of Anne and the accession of George
I. But he could not conceal his dislike of the Hanoverian monarch, and
he made his house at Richmond a meeting-place for those who desired the
return of the Stuarts.
The remainder of his life is a record of disappointment. There was no
chance of his cause succeeding, and without even a blow he fled from
England and spent the last thirty years of his life in exile, visiting
England but once, and experiencing the humiliating poverty of the
harmless plotter, the recipient of pity when he expected hero-worship,
and, worse than that, regarded generally as a hopeless crank. His
estates were declared forfeited and vested in the Crown; but in 1721
the exile's brother, Lord Arran, was allowed by Parliament to purchase
them. Thirty years after his flight Ormonde died, the year of his
death--1745--marking the last attempt of the {129} Jacobites to regain
the throne of England. He outlived his glory, and those who met him
during the last few years of his life could see nothing but a querulous
old man who boasted of exploits forgotten if not altogether
discredited; but he had been great once, and so merited their pity, and
pity is all the fallen greatness earns in obscurity.
[Sidenote: Lord Pembroke and Swift]
The Earl of Pembroke remained in Ireland less than a couple of years,
playing at governing, and amused by Swift. The post of Lord High
Admiral was more to his liking, and he gladly resigned the viceroyalty
to take it up. Swift acted as chaplain to Pembroke, but his principal
duty appears to have been that of amusing the earl with humorous
doggerel or by his caustic criticisms of Dublin's leading citizens,
official and otherwise. The punning correspondence with the viceroy
was the forerunner of a habit that lasted through Swift's life, and
gained him a reputation for wit which, fortunately for the dean, was
supplemented by something more recondite. During several viceroyalties
he exercised considerable influence, and although Swift hotly
repudiated the title of Irishman, at times he rendered some service to
the country in which he was born. The Earl of Wharton was sixty when
appointed Lord-Lieutenant of Ireland on November 25, 1708, and there
were forty years of profligacy behind him. He was an atheist,
unscrupulous, licentious, witty, contemptuous, and absolutely without
fear. From the first he had been an opponent of James II., and the
invitation to William was suggested by {130} Wharton. To send this man
to Ireland to settle the religious question and maintain the supremacy
of the Protestant party was a matchless piece of irony; but Wharton,
who could insist upon an elaborate ritual of household prayers in his
own home, undertook the task, undeterred by the sneers of his
opponents, the amazement of his friends, and the bitter invective of
that disappointed office-seeker, Jonathan Swift.
[Illustration: Lord Wharton]
Wharton had done considerable service to the cause of William by the
writing of a single song that proved to be worth an army to the Orange
party. Like most of the English nobility, Wharton had been vastly
amused by Tyrconnel's elevation to the viceroyalty. In his opinion the
position was one for a gentleman, and not a bully with Irish leanings
and unrepentantly Catholic. The famous song, set to music by Purcell,
and known as 'Lilli Burlero, Bullen-a-la,' was the result, and,
whistled and sung from one end of the country to the other, it
ridiculed Tyrconnel out of existence. That was Wharton's first
contribution to the history of Ireland.
His second took the form of a law declaring that all property held by
Catholics must be inherited by their Protestant heirs--a statute which
was declared to do more towards stamping out Popery in three months
than all others had done in three years. The viceroy, however, took no
pains to please anybody but himself. He lived in Dublin as he lived in
London, and, when satiated with the pleasures of the Irish metropolis,
he crossed over to London, following the example of his {131}
predecessors, who never became too fond of Dublin to prefer it to
London.
Wharton's first wife, Ann Lee, brought him a large fortune and a plain
face; his second, Lucy Loftus, was heavily dowered, but her character
almost matched his own--and that is saying a great deal. During his
viceroyalty most of the royalty was absent, and Dublin Castle became a
glorified tavern and brothel. The viceroy's discarded mistresses were
married to distressed profligates, whom Wharton promoted to office in
the State or gave preferment in the Church. Once he recommended a boon
companion for a bishopric, declaring that 'James was the most
honourable man alive, and possessed of a character practically
faultless save for his damnable morals.' This person did not secure
the bishopric, but he found compensation in a deanery.
[Sidenote: Joseph Addison]
The only sober member of the viceroy's retinue was Joseph Addison,
whose hackwork in the service of the party had been rewarded with this
appointment, much to Swift's envy, for the Irishman was supposed to be
entitled to payment before Addison, who served with zeal 'the
profligate son of a Puritanical father, and the father of a son more
licentious than himself.' When the Lord-Lieutenant left Ireland the
Parliament actually thanked the queen for having sent 'one so great in
wisdom and experience to be our chief Governor.' This was the man who
had knighted potmen who served him with ale, tried to idealize the most
abandoned women, and regarded with complacency the amours of his wife,
who, having {132} lost the affections of her husband, found consolation
in a dozen other men. Cardsharpers, profligates, and every species of
base adventurer had the _entree_ to Dublin Castle, where the viceroy
reigned as a 'prince of good fellows,' many of whom had been kicked out
of decent society in London. But Wharton was powerful enough to be
more than unconventional, and it suited his peculiar sense of humour to
shock even his most licentious companions-in-arms. When they roamed
Dublin at night seeking for prey, Wharton behaved like a drunken
madman, and he fondly imagined that his identity was not discovered,
except when, in an intoxicated mood, he called for a sword and bestowed
knighthoods indiscriminately on waiters and landlords, and even went
through the farce of knighting women of the street. His motto was
never to give a challenge and never to refuse one. When in his teens
he had fought two duels with outraged husbands, and gained the victory
in each encounter.
His viceroyalty was certainly unconventional. Dignified prelates,
hovering in draughty rooms and corridors, were twitted mercilessly by
my Lord Wharton, who was the most contemptuous enemy the Protestant
faith ever knew. Once he declared that he hated all religions, but if
he had to join one he would select the Presbyterian, because it was
opposed to the Church of England. Swift's famous attack on him merely
created a temporary annoyance in the English nobleman.
It was no misfortune for Ireland that the fall of the Government
entailed Wharton's recall in {133} October, 1710, and the Duke of
Ormonde's reappointment was at once announced. Wharton, cynical and
contemptuous, looked upon his supersession with indifference. He had
exhausted all the pleasures Dublin had to offer, and so London knew him
once more. He lived until 1715, and saw King George on the throne and
his rival, Ormonde, a penniless fugitive. The latter fact must have
enabled him to believe that there were compensations in this world even
for a man who defied it. There is a story told of him which aptly
illustrates his cynical sense of humour. When the famous 'twelve
peers' were created by Queen Anne in order that the Government might
carry a certain measure in the House of Lords, Wharton nicknamed them
'the jury,' and, rising in his place in the House of Lords, inquired
blandly whether the twelve voted singly or through their foreman. He
was nearing the close of his life when a marquisate was conferred on
him, and he maintained his influence on public affairs right to the end.
[Sidenote: The Duke of Shrewsbury]
The second viceroyalty of Ormonde having terminated, Queen Anne
selected Charles Talbot, twelfth Earl and only Duke of Shrewsbury, to
succeed him in 1713. It was the queen's last important appointment,
and Shrewsbury carried on the Government from 1713 to 1717, spending
more time in England than in Ireland, and contenting himself by staying
at Dublin Castle whenever the Irish Parliament was in session. He was
an interesting person in many ways. Named after Charles II. because he
was the first {134} of that king's godchildren--being born in the year
of the Restoration--he passed his childhood amid Catholic influences.
His mother carried on an intrigue with the Duke of Buckingham which
resulted in her husband's death. According to a contemporary, Lady
Shrewsbury, disguised as a page, held Buckingham's horse whilst he
killed her husband in the duel that followed the discovery of her
infidelity.
In 1699 Shrewsbury, who had formed one of the seven who invited William
to come to England, was offered the viceroyalty, but declined it, as
well as half a dozen alternative proposals made to him. He was tired
of politics, and for three years--1700-02--he lived in Rome, and then
travelled about the Continent. He brought back with him an Italian
wife, a lady whose jealousy, ambition, and unscrupulousness shortened
his life. Shrewsbury was not ambitious, but his wife was, and it is
supposed that she induced him to accept the viceroyalty so that she
might play at being a queen amid the indifferent and unorganized state
of Dublin society. Swift, who met him very often, described him as
'the finest gentleman we have'; and William referred to him more than
once as 'the King of Hearts.' Lady Shrewsbury insisted upon his
keeping his Irish appointment, and, bullied by her, he did, although he
neither loved nor respected her. In London the Italian sought to place
herself at the head of society as the wife of His Majesty's
representative, but failed decisively. Her husband became the butt of
the wits; he was mercilessly ridiculed, and even the {135} gift of the
office of Lord Chamberlain, to enable him to retire from the
viceroyalty, could not help him to regain his prestige. He died in
1718, and all England ascribed his premature death to his wife.
[Sidenote: Draining the Irish exchequer]
Charles Paulet, Duke of Bolton and Marquis of Winchester, accepted the
vacancy, and came to Dublin in 1719 to open the Irish Parliament. This
was two years after his appointment, but it was not necessary in those
days for the viceroy to govern in person. He had his share of the
profits of the office remitted to him in London. These consisted of
the official salary and such annual sums as were due to him by persons
whom he either continued in office or appointed. It is related of Lord
Wharton that, despite his wealth, he insisted upon all persons
nominated by him paying a commission on their salaries, and in one
particular instance he agreed with a certain lawyer to make him Lord
Justice at a salary of L40 a month, the latter agreeing to hand over
the balance of the official allowance of L100 per month to the viceroy.
Ireland was regarded as a sort of till to be robbed by viceroys and
their friends. For many years it had been the practice to include the
heavy expenses of the numerous mistresses of royalty in the accounts of
the Government of Ireland; but most of the money came from London. Yet
Ireland got the reputation of being costly and useless, while every
monarch and every English statesman continued to rob the Irish
Exchequer and the people. They drained the country without troubling
to insure its stability and prosperity; active attempts were {136} made
and succeeded in injuring Irish industries, and the greatest sufferers
were the descendants of the English settlers. By now there was no
'English colony' to uphold the viceroy's rights or wrongs, and to every
Englishman a resident in Ireland was 'savage and Irish.' Dean Swift,
who spent a lifetime endeavouring to disprove the--to him--terrible
accusation of being Irish, was moved to declare that the Anglo-Irish
families spoke the best English, and were the most civilized persons
under the dominion of the English Crown. It is amusing to read his
letter to Pope (July 13, 1737), in which he scornfully protests against
the confusion existing in English minds concerning the 'savage old
Irish' and the 'English gentry in Ireland.' Five years before this he
declared to Sir Charles Wigan that the peasantry were distinguished by
'a better natural taste for good sense, humour, and raillery than ever
I observed among people of the like sort in England.' Swift's attack
on the English administration of Ireland was, however, not intended for
the benefit of the country as a whole. He represented the 'English in
Ireland,' and was fond of describing them as 'English colonists.'
Whigs and Tories alike used the unfortunate country for selfish
reasons, and Irish trade was ruined to appease English voters or to
guard the vested interests of great noblemen. There was no purely
Irish party to attack the abuses of the administration in Dublin; the
leading men were placated with office, or else had to join in the
scramble for emoluments, for fear that they should be left out in the
cold. {137} The Protestant Church was in the ascendancy; the Catholic
hierarchy looked on complacently, leaving it to the priests to show
that the Catholic religion was not altogether selfish and political.
Swift himself was a typical clergyman of the Established Church,
irreligious, scornful of his trust, and seeking preferment in the
Church because it was the only way to power for a man of humble birth
in those days.
[Sidenote: Irish society]
Dublin Castle seldom housed the viceroy, the administration being left
to one or more Lords Justices who escaped criticism, provided their
remittances to the absent Lord-Lieutenant were regular and satisfactory
in amount. Dublin society was scarcely half formed, and consisted of
beggarly exiles from England, compelled to emigrate by reason of their
debts and misdeeds, the friends and relatives of the Lords Justices,
obscure army officers and their kind, and a few of the wealthier
citizens who could not be ignored. Those with English names affected
to despise those with Irish; it was considered sheer savagery not to
speak well of the Government, for the viceroy and his lady set the
fashions, and not to follow them was to court ignominy and insult.
It is said that the Duke of Bolton accepted the viceroyalty out of
curiosity and on the condition that the Government paid the expenses of
his journey to Dublin to see the Irish. Charles Spencer, Earl of
Sunderland, and Lord Townshend had allowed themselves in 1714 and 1716
respectively to accept the post, but neither nobleman troubled to visit
Ireland; and the Duke of {138} Bolton was regarded with a certain
amount of admiration for his pluck and fortitude in surrendering the
delights of London for the uncivilization of Dublin. Charles Fitzroy,
Duke of Grafton, a descendant of Charles II., became Lord-Lieutenant in
1721, and tasted some of the sweets of sovereignty as the
representative of the king, whose occupancy of the throne meant the
extinction of the Stuarts.
Grafton came to Ireland with no intention of overworking himself in the
service of the State, and he was, therefore, disagreeably surprised
when he found himself in the midst of a political turmoil. Dean
Swift's satire was stinging everybody, irrespective of position or
class. Roused by him, the people were actually protesting against the
newest form of English tyranny, and they even dared to scream insults
at the gilded fop as he drove about the city. It was the irony of fate
that all the trouble should be caused by the king's fondness for his
mistress. Grafton, however, was averse to facing a crisis; he was
better in London--far from the maddening Irish--and when Grafton
retired with alacrity in 1723, the Government decided to send John,
Lord Carteret, to carry out their policy. The descendant of Charles
II. was not eager to battle for the vindication of a policy arising out
of the turgid German morals of the oddest figure that ever sat on the
throne of England. King George's failing was that he possessed
appetite without appreciation; he wanted the best, and yet never
recognized it when he had it.
{139}