The resignation of the Duke of Portland enabled Lord Shelburne to appoint his friend, Earl Temple, to the viceroyalty. This was the premier's challenge to Fox and his followers, and was taken as evidence that he meant to do without their aid. Temple, although well aware that his reign must be almost as short as his predecessor's, came to Dublin, and did his best to gain the support of the official party for the tottering ministry.
Within a few months several Bills of importance were carried both in the English and the Irish Parliaments, and as a sop for the nobility the Order of St. Patrick was founded in the early months of 1783, the viceroy installing himself as grand master. Previous to this Lord Shelburne had been compelled to resign, and Temple's resignation followed as a matter of course, but he waited for the arrival of his successor, Lord Northington, who was selected only after several noblemen had rejected the overtures of the Coalition Ministry of the Duke of Portland. Temple, created Marquis of Buckingham in 1784, consistently opposed the Government, and he had his reward in 1787, when he returned to Ireland on the sudden death of the viceroy, Charles Manners, Duke of Rutland.
The Volunteer Convention
Meanwhile Lord Northington's brief tenure of office was not without incident. He discovered more about Irish affairs in less than twelve months in Dublin than he had learned in ten years in England. A great Volunteer convention in the vicinity of the Castle augured a disturbing time, but it passed off quietly enough, and the viceroy set about advising his friend and political patron, Fox, of the real condition of the country. Fox was for a display of force; Northington, with the superior knowledge of the man on the spot, and able to gauge the temper of the Irish race, strongly urged a policy of conciliation. More than once he complained to Fox that the evils of absentee officialism were endangering the position of the Government in Ireland; and, unable to cope with this scandal because he had the whole of the official and governing classes against him, he turned to the more congenial task of encouraging Irish industries. Out of his own resources he helped in the promotion and development of the flax and tobacco trades, then in a very feeble state. Parliament, anxious to show its friendliness towards Northington, increased his salary from £16,000 to £20,000 a year, but he never benefited by the change—even if he desired to—for the Coalition Ministry, defeated by the intrigues of the court party, went out of office in the early part of 1784, and the Duke of Rutland, a popular and wealthy nobleman, was selected to succeed him at Dublin.
It was at first proposed to send Temple, now Marquis of Buckingham, back again, but the king had need of his services, and the appointment was delayed for some three years.
The Duke of Rutland
Rutland was a close personal friend of the triumphant Pitt, and although only thirty years of age in 1784, was entrusted by his friend with the momentous secret that the Home Government had in contemplation the union of the two Parliaments. Rutland's first move in Dublin was to sound carefully the leading officials and noblemen. To his astonishment he found the most determined opposition everywhere. Nobody would listen to the proposal, and the viceroy was compelled to laugh the idea away, pretending that it was but an idle fancy of his own, and quite unimportant.
It is not to be wondered at that Dublin should be unanimous against the proposal. Its very existence depended upon the official classes. Seventy-five per cent. of the well-to-do drew their incomes from Dublin Castle; while the trades-people were for obvious reasons panic-stricken whenever it was rumoured that the Parliament should be transferred to London.
Rutland thereupon sought distraction in such pleasures as the capital afforded, and his wife seconded him. Both were young and in possession of more than viceregal wealth, and they cut the road to popularity short by a lavish expenditure. The leading noblemen built themselves mansions, and the wealthy bourgeois followed suit. Stephen's Green was the favourite residential quarter, but Merrion Square threatened to rival it. Architects, artists, and builders from England and the Continent crowded Dublin, some of them to found families not without renown in Irish annals, if bearing patronymics more suggestive of sunny Italy or France than their adopted country. The professional classes were rapidly rising in social status, and although the rule that prohibited the recognition of lawyers' and doctors' wives by the Lord-Lieutenant and his consort were still in force, barristers and medical men sometimes gained admission to unofficial festivities at the Castle. The large garrison contributed its quota of officers to Dublin society, which at that time and for many years after the union represented all Ireland. The Duke and Duchess of Rutland cultivated society in a manner that gained them immense personal popularity. They led the fashions in the drawing-rooms and in the clubs, and the duke, who dearly loved a good dinner, created a record for dining out never equalled by any subsequent viceroy.
Tired at last of the rollicking pleasures of the capital, the viceroy decided to seek relaxation in a tour of Ireland. He was strongly advised by his council not to undertake the journey, but he was anxious to witness for himself the feudal state some of the nobility maintained in their country castles, and he carried out his resolve. Accompanied by the duchess, he journeyed from place to place, staying whenever possible at the residences of well-disposed noblemen. To mark their appreciation of his visit, the latter spent thousands of pounds entertaining the viceroy and his wife, and the chroniclers of the day dwell with awe on the vast amount of food consumed by the viceregal pair throughout their tour. He must have undermined his constitution during his Irish travels, for on his return to Dublin he was almost immediately in the thrall of a fever, and, not being strong enough to resist it, expired suddenly at his residence in the Phoenix Park on October 24, 1787.
Grattan and Dublin Castle
To the intense annoyance of the Grattan party the Marquis of Buckingham, who as Earl Temple had been viceroy in 1782, came over in December as the result of the king's influence. The question of the regency during George III.'s illness was acute in Dublin as in London, and the Irish Houses of Parliament, true to its reputation, rushed in with a resolution requesting the Prince of Wales to assume the regency. This motion the viceroy angrily declined to communicate to the Government or the prince, and Parliament thereupon censured him in explicit language. The sudden recovery of the king was a triumph for Buckingham's policy, and he dismissed his principal opponents in Dublin from office, utilizing the public funds to gain fresh adherents for his Government. This action caused Grattan to enter an eloquent protest against the 'expensive genius' of the Marquis of Buckingham. In vain did the viceroy attempt to undermine the position Grattan held. The most popular Irishman of his time could set the viceroy and his satellites at defiance, and all the money that could be filched from the Irish treasury was insufficient to bring about the downfall of the great orator. Grattan was not received at Dublin Castle during Buckingham's viceroyalty, but from his place in Parliament he could thunder at the Lord-Lieutenant and even frighten the ministry in London.
In Walpole's 'Journals of George III.'s Reign' there is an unflattering description of Buckingham, which depicts him as a liar and a thief, and more successful as the latter than the former. Proud and stubborn as he was, Buckingham was compelled to give way, and in September, 1789, to the great joy of the country, he announced his resignation. He left immediately, and dropped out of political life. During a debate on the Irish situation in 1799 he followed the Earl of Carlisle—another ex-viceroy—with a speech advocating the union with Ireland. This was a year after he had served in the rebellion of '98, commanding a regiment of Buckinghamshire militia in the country of which he never spoke without exhausting his powers of invective.
The task of naming the new viceroy fell to William Pitt, and, after considering the matter in conjunction with his own policy, he remembered his old fellow-student at Cambridge, John Fane, now tenth Earl of Westmoreland. The post was offered to and accepted by the earl, and in January, 1790, he was nominated Lord-Lieutenant of Ireland. Eight years previously he had startled and scandalized society by making a runaway marriage with the daughter of Child, the banker, and reputed to be the wealthiest heiress in the country. Westmoreland was a soldier and not a statesman, but he gladly accepted Pitt's offer, and, disdainful of the growing power of the new Irish party, sought to govern the country from the point of view of the rough and courageous soldier.
The Irish Volunteer movement—a Protestant organization—had gained independence for the Irish Parliament, and, incidentally, compelled England to grant certain measures of relief to the Catholics because, with the Protestant community opposed to English misrule, it was necessary for the predominant partner to curry favour with the Catholics. Grattan, John Keogh, and other leaders, demanded complete Catholic emancipation, and the more sober-minded amongst the Protestants had come to realize that Ireland could not progress until the Catholics were freed from the obnoxious penal laws even then in existence.
The first law of nature had compelled the rival religionists to join forces, so that when Lord Westmoreland arrived in Ireland he was faced with the problem of dealing with a strong and united Irish party. Some years previously the Catholic Committee had been formed, and now, with Lord Kenmare and John Keogh controlling it, the organization was the most powerful in the country, with the notable exception of the Irish Volunteers. Keogh was a remarkable man in every way. A wealthy Dublin tradesman, he retired from business in order to fight the battle of Catholic Emancipation, and, although handicapped by internecine strife, succeeded in gaining the control of the Catholic Committee and directing its policy. The viceroy contributed to Keogh's triumph by contemptuously returning an address of welcome from the Catholic Committee because it contained a hope that further relief would be granted to Catholics.
The Irish Volunteers revived
This act, which exasperated the moderate men, convinced the majority of the Committee that Keogh's aggressive policy was the only one worth adopting. Parliament had been declared independent of its English prototype, but everybody knew that it was wholly subject to the bureaucrats who reigned in Dublin Castle. Simultaneously with the rise to prominence of John Keogh came the revivification of the Volunteers. Since their great victory of 1782 they had been allowed to degenerate and dwindle, but the success of the French Revolution was not without its influence on Irish affairs, and the years between 1789 and 1792 witnessed a revival on national lines. Froude wrote eloquently of a Belfast Volunteer Review in 1791. 'The ceremonial commenced with a procession. The Volunteer companies, refilled to their old numbers, marched past with banners and music. A battery of cannon followed, and behind the cannon a portrait of Mirabeau. Then a gigantic triumphal car, bearing a broad sheet of canvas, on which was painted the opening of the Bastille dungeons. In the foreground was the wasted figure of the prisoner who had been confined there thirty years. In the near distance the doors of the cells flung back, disclosing the skeletons of dead victims or living wretches writhing in chains and torture. On the reverse of the canvas Hibernia was seen reclining, one hand and one foot in shackles, and a Volunteer artilleryman holding before her eyes the radiant image of Liberty.... In the evening three hundred and fifty patriots sat down to dinner in the Linen Hall. They drank to the King of Ireland. They drank to Washington, the ornament of mankind. They drank to Grattan, Molyneux, Franklin, and Mirabeau—these last two amidst applause that threatened to shake the building to the ground.'
Struggle for Catholic relief
The proposed co-operation of the Catholic Committee with the Volunteers, the latter being a Presbyterian organization, alarmed the viceroy and the ministers in London. Westmoreland was advised to prevent the amalgamation of the forces by concessions to Catholics, and eventually a measure, granting everything save the franchise to Catholics, was passed by the Irish Parliament. The Castle influence, however, was too strong for John Keogh to win the vote for his followers, but it was something to gain for his fellow-religionists admission to the magistracy, to the rank of King's Counsel, and to become solicitors and to open schools without the permission of the Protestant bishop. Beyond that the Government would not go. But the great Catholic Convention in 1792 won the vote for the majority, although Westmoreland and his secretary, Hobart, wrote imploring Pitt and Dundas not to give way to the importunities of the five Commissioners sent by the Catholic Convention to demand the franchise from the king. The Commissioners convinced the ministry that if their mission failed English rule in Ireland would be at an end, and the Lord-Lieutenant's advice was ignored. In February, 1793, the Chief Secretary moved in Parliament the first reading of a Bill admitting Catholics to the parliamentary franchise, to the magistracy, to the grand jury, to the municipal corporations, to Dublin University, and to several civil and military offices. But an amendment proposing the admission of Catholics to Parliament was defeated by 136 to 69 votes.
Lord Westmoreland was personally a fanatical opponent of Roman Catholicism, and the weakness of Pitt, as he termed it, made his position in Dublin unbearable. He would have resigned in 1792 but for a certain vanity that made him unwilling to admit defeat. Besides, he was ever hoping that the natural passion for schism which permeates every Irish politician would dissever the alliance of the Presbyterians with the Catholic Committee. In the North, while the Belfast Volunteers were welcoming with open arms the leaders of the Catholic movement, and making fervid speeches about liberty of conscience, two organizations in adjacent villages were 'cutting one another's throats for the love of God.' The 'Defenders' was the name given to the Roman Catholic band, while the Presbyterians, or Orangemen, called themselves 'Peep-o'-Day Boys.' In September, 1795, when Camden was viceroy, the two factions came into conflict at a village called the 'Diamond,' and the battle that followed takes its name from the scene of the contest. Forty-eight Defenders were killed, and to commemorate the victory the first Orange lodge was founded.
Westmoreland knew that there could be no genuine alliance between the Catholics and the Protestants, and so he clung to office; but Pitt, alarmed by the state of Europe and the isolation of England, was for favouring the Catholics, and the viceroy, as one utterly at variance with the Home Government, resigned.
Lord Westmoreland's term was purely a political one. He came to Ireland at a most critical period in its history, and, although little more than thirty years of age, he showed a courage worthy of a man with better ideals. He was not without his good qualities, and the Castle bureaucrats found in him a stanch friend. He entertained lavishly, but the death of Lady Westmoreland towards the close of 1793 abruptly ended the gaieties of the Castle. He lived until 1841, and held the post of Lord Privy Seal from 1798 to 1827—a period covering nearly thirty years and without precedent or example in the history of politics.
It is interesting to recall that one of Lord Westmoreland's staff in Dublin during the early years of his viceroyalty was a young officer named Arthur Wellesley. While attending a ball at the Castle he made the acquaintance of a girl of great beauty, Miss Catherine Pakenham, a daughter of Lord Longford. They became engaged almost immediately, but Wellesley's family opposed the match, his mother, a haughty and severe woman, being very prominent in the matter. The future Iron Duke, however, maintained the engagement, and when he was in India he kept up a regular correspondence with his fiancée. During his absence she was attacked by smallpox, and wrote to Wellesley releasing him, but he refused to do so, and on April 10, 1806, they were married in the church of St. George, Dublin.
A sensational viceroyalty
The removal of Westmoreland, the friend of the Protestant minority, was followed by the brief but sensational viceroyalty of the second Earl Fitzwilliam. Pitt's avowed policy was to win the sympathies of the majority, and Lord Fitzwilliam was considered the best man to give effect to the policy of the Government. He was gazetted, therefore, to Ireland in December, 1794, and a month later appeared in Dublin. His wife was a daughter of the Earl of Bessborough, and both were very popular in Court circles. Possessed of great wealth, it was thought that Fitzwilliam would be the less independent of the support of the Castle bureaucracy, which was fighting with venom the battle for its existence. No sooner was Fitzwilliam in Dublin than he received instructions to continue Westmoreland's policy. But he had started the work of reform before these reached him. One morning Beresford, who had married Barbara Montgomery, a sister of Lady Townshend, was dismissed from his post of Commissioner of the Customs; Toler, Attorney-General—afterwards the notorious Lord Norbury—Wolfe, the Solicitor-General, and Cooke, the Military Secretary, also received notice that their services were no longer required. The Castle people were panic-stricken; their occupations seemed to be gone, but even Fitzwilliam, with all the prestige of great birth and wealth, could not overwhelm the bureaucracy. Beresford appealed to Pitt and the king, and within a few days the dismissed officers were all reinstated. This was too much for the viceroy, and on March 25, 1795, he left Ireland, to the accompaniment of a demonstration of mourning absolutely unique in the history of the country. Dublin proclaimed it a day of humiliation; all the shops were closed, and the citizens lined the streets. Grattan gave voice to the general regret, and fiercely denounced the treachery of Pitt, who had assured him that Lord Fitzwilliam was to adopt an essentially Catholic policy.
In the circumstances the strongest of men might have hesitated before undertaking the ominous task of carrying on the Government. Unfortunately, there was a total ignorance of Ireland and its affairs amongst the English nobility, and when Lord Camden was offered the post he accepted it without demur, and confidently travelled to the Irish metropolis. Ireland knew nothing of the viceroy, and certainly the latter knew even less of the country he was called upon to rule. He was thirty-six years of age, but possessed all the pompous prejudices of a man twice his age. On his coming of age he had been appointed Teller of the Exchequer, and held it for sixty years—1780 to 1840—though after drawing about three-quarters of a million sterling from the Treasury, he 'patriotically' consented in 1812 to forego the income of the office.
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 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.
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 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 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.
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. 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.
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 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, 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 £300 a year. But this was a venial sin compared with some others which could be cited.
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 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.
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 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 levées 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 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.
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.
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 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, 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 £40,000 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 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.
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 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.
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.
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 years' imprisonment and a fine of £500, 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.