The new viceroy was received in sullen silence on the day of his
arrival in Dublin, but when Lord Clare, the Chancellor, was returning
after swearing in the Lord-Lieutenant, he was attacked by a frenzied
mob which sought to lynch him on the lamp-post outside his own house.
Beresford had taken the precaution to fill the approaches to the
Custom-house with soldiers, and so escaped, but the residences of all
the principal loyalists in Dublin were stoned, and for several days mob
law was supreme.
Camden, however, determined to show that he was uninfluenced by
intimidation. He was not a courageous person, but he knew that the
English garrison was strong and that there could be no treachery within
Dublin Castle, where everybody had been bought body and soul by the
Government. Pitt had advised him to adopt a strong anti-Catholic
policy, and he carried out his instructions only too well. It is
significant of the attitude and position of the Catholic priesthood
that the viceroy could be anti-Catholic and yet in a position to lay
the foundation-stone of Maynooth College. This was an open bribe to
the clergy, and an intimation of favours to come if the {202}
priesthood supported the policy of Pitt and the viceroy.
Lord Castlereagh and the Duke of Portland--the latter as Home Secretary
having charge of Irish affairs--had almost carried into execution their
plan of endowing the Roman Catholic Church with English money, and
thereby securing its allegiance and support for ever; but even the
audacious Castlereagh hesitated for fear of the English Established
Church, and it was decided to substitute Maynooth and an endowment for
the original plan.
Camden's aggressiveness was matched by the determination of his
opponents. The United Irishmen threw over their policy of 'peaceful
persuasion,' and inspired by Wolfe Tone, became a rebellious
organization. Tone went to America, and from there to France. The
result was the abortive expedition under Hoche and Grouchy.
[Sidenote: The United Irishmen]
Camden was not idle. He quickly discovered that there are always
plenty of traitors in Ireland, and he bought them up by the score. The
news of Lord Edward Fitzgerald's adherence to the rebel cause was
disconcerting, but Fitzgerald had friends, and these the viceroy
purchased. A similar policy was adopted in the case of every one of
the rebel leaders, and every hero had his bodyguard of traitors. The
Government had merely to wait for the right moment to strike a decisive
blow. Castle money was never more plentiful than in the two years
preceding the egregious rebellion of '98. Many patriots who screamed
for independence lost their voices at {203} the first sight of
viceregal gold; the old bucks, penniless as the result of their early
follies, found in the profession of traitor an easy escape from the
demon Work; briefless barristers, and even successful ones, were drawn
into the Castle circle until the viceroy could say with reason that he
had bought practically every man of position or influence in the
country.
Despite this, however, Camden felt alarmed at the progress the rebel
cause was making. It was no longer a purely Catholic movement, and the
knowledge that wealthy Protestant merchants were joining the United
Irishmen convinced the Viceroy that, although he could arrest the
leaders whenever he wished, yet there would be an army of rebels left
which might prove difficult to overcome. Lady Camden urged him to
resign, and save the lives of their children and themselves. She and
her family existed in a state of siege; there was little entertaining,
for no man trusted his neighbour, and in every street beggar the
Government saw an embryo assassin. Camden, with the disturbing
conscience of the self-confessed coward, was compelled to act the
bully. He would not go in the guise of a frightened and defeated
viceroy. Then someone suggested that as the country was under arms it
would be better if the viceroy happened to be a soldier. Camden seized
upon this pretext, and wrote to London offering to resign in favour of
Lord Cornwallis, who, as one who had been Governor-General of India and
Commander-in-Chief of the troops, was the most experienced man for the
post. Cornwallis {204} was not inclined to come to Ireland, though as
a soldier he intimated to the Government that he was bound to obey any
orders given him in that capacity. Camden, therefore, remained on, and
the long-expected rebellion broke out. But the viceroy was not
unprepared, and before the day arrived for the great blow to be struck
by a united and concerted action of the rebels every one of the leaders
was in gaol and scores of traitors were holding out their hands for
payment. News of the successes in the field of the leaderless rebels
created a panic, and Camden increased it by despatching his wife and
children to England. The Orangemen demonstrated feebly, but they
formed a small minority, and, although they had been very prominent
since the rejection of the Catholic Bill in 1795, they were of no
importance or use in the crisis. Camden implored Pitt to send more
troops, or Ireland would be lost for ever. The English statesman
replied that there were eighty thousand men in the country already, and
gave him Sir Ralph Abercromby to command them.
[Illustration: Marquis Camden]
Abercromby resigned in disgust, and General Lake was sent to replace
him, and to this officer fell the task of dealing with the straggling
bodies of rebels who were maintaining a 'sort of rebellion.' Shortly
after the arrest of the rebel leaders Camden had made way for Lord
Cornwallis, and returned home. The ex-viceroy was consulted by
Portland, who had disapproved of his policy, and Camden declared that
the only solution of the problem was the union of the two Parliaments.
{205} While Ireland had a Parliament of its own--however
unrepresentative--it would crave for its natural corollary, a native
Government. But even a Camden could learn by experience, and in 1829
he voted in favour of Catholic Emancipation.
[Sidenote: The Marquis Cornwallis]
It was admitted in London that the rebellion of '98 was at an end, so
far as its effectiveness was concerned, before Camden resigned, and the
appointment of Lord Cornwallis was inspired by Pitt's dread that the
shortly-to-be-introduced Act of Union would lead to further trouble.
Cornwallis was a soldier and a statesman. He was sixty years of age,
and had led a very full life in India, America, and England. One of
the few far-seeing persons who had declaimed against the unjust
taxation which lost the States of America, he nevertheless obeyed the
call of duty, and fought in the War of Independence. His surrender at
Yorktown marked the beginning of the independence of the American
Colonies. His greatest and most prosperous years were spent in India,
and it was as the successful Indian administrator and soldier that he
was despatched to Ireland to prepare the country for Pitt's proposals.
He found that there was plenty of work left over from the Camden era,
and his first six months consisted of hangings and murders. With a
courage worthy of a better cause the peasantry were fighting the
Imperial troops, but there could be only one end to such an unequal
contest, and the soldiery enjoyed themselves after their kind. The
Dublin executive was busily employed reaping the {206} first-fruits of
Camden's bribery; Lord Edward Fitzgerald was captured, the last of the
'98 leaders.
The history of Ireland must have a strong influence on men's hearts,
for nobody can speak or write of it without exhibiting the feelings of
the partisan. The unstudied inaccuracies of the phlegmatic Froude show
that historian to be capable of emotion when dealing with Irish
affairs. Froude had no sense of humour, and, therefore, no sense of
proportion, and his detestation of the Celtic temperament caused his
prejudices to run riot in his pages on Ireland. On the other side are
the painfully sincere patriots whose efforts to divide humanity into
sheep and goats wrong both parties. Perhaps one of these days it will
be agreed that any event more than fifty years old shall be considered
outside party politics. As it is, the rebellion of '98 is a subject
strong enough to-day to arouse as much passion as the latest proposal
of a vote-bidding Government, Conservative or Liberal.
It would be as easy as it is tempting to dwell upon the doings of the
year 1798, but the 'rebellion' has its own historians. One example of
Castle methods must be given. Among the lawyers who enjoyed a more or
less fashionable practice was a man named McNally. He was friendly
with the leading patriots and also with the Government, and he approved
in a purely intellectual manner of the rebellion. When, therefore, a
batch of important rebels were in need of a barrister to defend them,
they sent for McNally, and as their counsel he was told everything,
{207} including certain information which the wily lawyer knew would be
of immense value to the Government. This was his opportunity, and he
never hesitated. To the Castle he went, and sold his clients for a
life-pension of L300 a year. But this was a venial sin compared with
some others which could be cited.
[Sidenote: The Act of Union introduced]
The surrender of General Humbert to Cornwallis marked the termination
of the rebellion, and, in the opinion of Pitt and Portland, the Home
Secretary, the most favourable time had arrived for the introduction of
the Act of Union. In November, 1798, the duke sent to Cornwallis the
first articles of the Bill. These were introduced into the House of
Commons in Dublin in the certain hope that they would be accepted. To
the astonishment and dismay of the executive, the Bill was rejected by
107 votes to 105. Castlereagh was furious; Cornwallis indifferent.
Both men advised Catholic Emancipation as the price for Parliamentary
surrender, but the Government was averse to placing the majority in
power.
It was resolved to return to the old methods, the methods that had
always proved effective when dealing with the Irish aristocracy and
ruling class. Castlereagh was given a free hand, and places, pelf, and
peerages were promised with reckless lavishness. There was a rush to
be first in the field of favours, but Castlereagh was so ready to
promise anything that the bribed became suspicious. The English
Government in Ireland had a reputation for treachery that was not
undeserved, and the place and peerage seekers went {208} to Cornwallis
to seek endorsement of Castlereagh's offers. The viceroy gave his
personal guarantee that they would be fulfilled, and, satisfied with
this, the ready-made majority went to the Commons, and with a force
numbering one hundred and fifty-three persons overwhelmed the
opposition of eighty-eight. Many of the latter had refused heavy
bribes; as many had endangered their political lives.
The Union accomplished, the Duke of Portland endeavoured to postpone,
with an ultimate view to cancellation, the bestowal of the promised
peerages and the payment of the monetary bribes, and only the
threatened resignation of Cornwallis brought about the fulfilment of
the Government's side of the bargain.
[Sidenote: Society after the Union]
The new nobility were received with derision in England and Ireland,
and the wits of the day satirized them unmercifully. There is a story
told of John Philpot Curran, who had gained the admiration of the
patriotic party by his fearless advocacy of the '98 rebels in the law
courts. The famous wit was accosted by one of the new peers outside
the defunct Irish Parliament in College Green with the query as to the
intention of the Government with regard to the empty building, adding,
'For my part, I hate even the sight of it.' 'I do not wonder,'
retorted Curran, 'I never yet heard of a murderer who was not afraid of
a ghost.' Curran had been a bitter opponent of the Union, and had
proved himself incorruptible.
Whatever its political effect, the closing of the Irish Parliament was
a blow to the prestige of {209} Dublin as the metropolis. The
viceroyalty remained, but it was shorn of some of its glory. With the
death of the Irish House of Commons and the admittance of Irish peers
to the English House of Lords, there was no longer any need for the
native nobility to maintain expensive houses in Dublin. London became
their centre, and they made their country houses their headquarters
while in Ireland. Gradually the social power fell into the hands of
the professional classes and the higher-grade civil servants; doctors,
lawyers, officers in the army, and others of the professions dominated
Dublin society. The viceroy's court saw less of the aristocracy, and
the levees degenerated into a meeting-place for those of doubtful
pedigrees or persons anxious to make new ones. Merrion Square and St.
Stephen's Green attracted wealthy barristers and doctors, and
prosperous tradespeople moved from the 'other side of the bridge' to
the desirable regions surrounding Merrion Square. Knighthoods and
baronetcies were given to doctors and lawyers, and the wives of the men
who could not have been 'received' at the viceregal court previous to
the union were now the leaders of fashion and frequenters of the Castle
and the Lodge.
The energetic viceroy meanwhile pressed for Catholic emancipation,
which he declared would save Ireland from self-destruction. The state
of the country was pitiable, and Dublin looked all the more wretched
and squalid by reason of its patches of gaiety and wealth. Trade was
stagnant and education at a standstill. Almost every viceroy {210} had
to contribute to funds for starving peasantry. Cornwallis was not
deceived by the carelessness of his immediate circle. He protested
again and again against the laxity of the Government, and called aloud
for the emancipation of the Catholics. He was informed that the
Government dared not bring in such a Bill, for it would be thrown out
instantly, and when they wished to commit political suicide the
ministers would follow the viceroy's advice.
[Illustration: Marquis Cornwallis]
Tired and disgusted, Cornwallis resigned in February, 1801, and in May
took his departure. In 1805 he died in India, two years after he had,
as the English plenipotentiary, signed the disastrous Treaty of Amiens.
[Sidenote: Lord and Lady Hardwicke]
Pitt having been replaced by Addington, the new premier sent Lord
Hardwicke to Dublin. The earl was the eldest son of Lord Chancellor
Yorke, and being of a genial and easy-going disposition, it was thought
that he would eradicate, with the assistance of his wife, the
ill-feeling caused by the union. Lady Hardwicke certainly did her
best, and cultivated every class of Dublin society. The Castle for the
time being lost its sinister political reputation, and for five years
it remained the centre of the social life of the city. There was much
beauty and talent in Dublin, and the name of Irishman had gained
something by the exploits of the sons of the late Earl of Mornington.
Burke and Goldsmith had passed away, but Sheridan, Grattan, Curran,
Keogh, and many others remained. The Lord-Lieutenant dearly loved a
good story and a good dinner, and he {211} surrounded himself with all
the leading wits of the day. The personality of John Philpot Curran
dominated the Irish bar, and his refusal to defend Robert Emmet
scarcely affected his popularity with the patriotic party. The attempt
on the part of Emmet to start a new rebellion failed miserably, and did
not disturb the equanimity of Hardwicke. He continued his policy of
doing nothing and doing it well. The viceregal etiquette that had
prevailed for hundreds of years was relaxed somewhat, and Dublin began
to realize that the reign of the official gang was nearly finished.
Hitherto Castle functions had been for the few; now they were for the
many. The personal charm of Lady Hardwicke lessened the difficulties
of the viceroyalty, and when, in May, 1804, it was announced that Lord
Powis was to replace Hardwicke, there was great regret in Dublin.
Fortunately, Powis would not come to Ireland, and the viceroy and his
wife remained until the early part of 1806, when John Russell, sixth
Duke of Bedford, was sent to govern the country under the auspices of
the Ministry of All the Talents.
The duke was no politician, and fourteen years in the House of Commons
had given him a profound dislike for public life. It was only at the
earnest solicitation of the Prime Minister, Grenville, that he accepted
the post of Viceroy of Ireland, and when the Duke of Portland began his
second ministry Bedford gladly vacated Dublin Castle. It was an
undistinguished year in Irish affairs, but it is worth noting that
amongst the duke's family at the time was a boy of fourteen, {212} who,
as Lord John Russell, had in later years a great deal to do with Irish
affairs. He was at the head of the Government when the Irish famine of
1847-48 ravaged the country, and it was to Russell that Gladstone owed
his first acquaintance with Irish life. He never had a very flattering
opinion of the viceroyalty, regarding it as a useless encumbrance now
that the country was controlled from London, and more than once he
pressed upon his Cabinet colleagues a proposal for its abolition and
the substitution for it of a Secretary of State for Ireland, ranking
with the Home Secretary and conducting all Irish business. His father
retired into private life after leaving Dublin, and earned the
gratitude of subsequent holders of the dukedom by building Covent
Garden at a cost of L40,000 and otherwise improving the great Russell
estates. Agriculture also owes a great deal to the sixth Duke of
Bedford, who was one of the first to cultivate the subject
scientifically, and for many years of his life he was Vice-President of
the Agricultural Society, which he helped to found and guide into
prosperity.
Although Catholic Emancipation was very much to the fore now, and the
speeches of Catholic orators were embarrassing the Government, it was
not considered essential that the Lord-Lieutenant should be something
more than a man of fashion. Dukes were plentiful, and to succeed
Bedford, another one in the person of Charles Lennox, fourth Duke of
Richmond and Lennox, was chosen. The Duke of Richmond was forty-three
years of age, and had gained the {213} reputation of a sportsman. He
was a keen cricketer and a patron of the 'noble art' of boxing. In his
early years he had distinguished himself in a duel with the Duke of
York, and altogether was a typical man of the world, to whom the world
was very kind. He was assured that the Government of Ireland was a
simple matter--no work to do and plenty of opportunities for
cultivating those social arts so dear to him and to his duchess, who
was a sister of the outgoing viceroy's wife, the Duchess of Bedford.
[Sidenote: Colonel Arthur Wellesley]
Richmond was given as his chief secretary Colonel Arthur Wellesley, a
man who would perform any work there was to do. In the circumstances
the duke and duchess crossed over and inaugurated their reign with a
brilliant ball which foreshadowed a very gay time for the metropolis.
The viceroy was not interested in Catholic Emancipation or in any of
the subjects that intimately concerned the country he was supposed to
govern, but, to his great annoyance, Colonel Wellesley, in his anxiety
to obtain further military service, neglected Ireland, and spent much
of his time in London interviewing responsible ministers. Richmond
complained of his chief secretary's neglect, but Wellesley excused
himself by pointing out that his civil appointment had been accepted on
the understanding that he was at liberty to vacate it whenever there
was a prospect of service in the field.
Wellesley was nominally chief secretary for two years, and he did some
good work during that time, but his sojourn in Ireland is merely an
episode {214} in a splendid life. Richmond's other famous secretary
was Sir Robert Peel, who practised the arts of the statesman at
twenty-four as chief secretary to the Lord-Lieutenant of Ireland.
Despite Wellesley's neglect of his Dublin duties he became a warm
friend of the viceroy and his wife. It will be remembered that it was
the Duchess of Richmond who gave the celebrated ball at Brussels on the
historic night that preceded Quatre Bras. At the Battle of Waterloo
the duke was one of the suite in attendance on the Duke of Wellington.
[Illustration: Duke of Richmond and Lennox]
The Duke of Richmond was bitterly attacked by the Catholic party, and a
libel action against the editor of the _Dublin Evening Post_ in 1813
provided Daniel O'Connell with his first great opportunity for a public
display of his oratory. McGee, the editor in question, had published a
daring article on the Lord-Lieutenant in which it was declared 'that he
was not the superior of the worst of his predecessors--the profligate
and unprincipled Westmoreland, the cold-hearted and cruel Camden, and
artful and treacherous Cornwallis. They all insulted, they oppressed,
they murdered, and they deceived.' The reference to murder was held
sufficient to justify the Government in arresting McGee on the charge
of having accused the Duke of Richmond with that crime.
[Sidenote: O'Connell and the Duke]
Daniel O'Connell took up the case for the imprisoned editor when no
other member of the bar dare run the risk of offending the viceregal
court. The result was a foregone conclusion, and McGee was considered
lucky to get off with two {215} years' imprisonment and a fine of L500,
but the case was rescued from obscurity by the accused's advocate's
introduction of the ultra-political speech for the defence. In those
days they allowed a degree of irrelevancy in counsels' speeches that
would not be tolerated for a moment in the twentieth century.
The duke did not go out of office until 1813. The position of
representative of the king had its advantages, and the almost regal
state he maintained in Dublin soothed his vanity, and was,
incidentally, good for the trade of the city. The duchess loved power
even more than her husband did, and the exploits of the late chief
secretary, now well on his way to a dukedom, were her principal topic
of conversation. In Dublin she could lead, whereas in London she had
to follow, and in Dublin she stayed for several years, an undisputed
queen. Curran, now Master of the Rolls, was her friend, and the wits
of the town flattered her in their own charming way. Years afterwards
the duchess confessed that the happiest years of her life were spent in
Dublin.
{216}