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lADY MORGAN;
HER career/
LITERARY AND PERSONAL,
WITH A OLIMP8B OF
•
HEE FRIENDS, AND A WOBD TO HER CALTJMNUTORS.
WILLIAM JOHN PITZPATRICK, J.P.
AUTHOR or **,Lin, TIMKS AND CONTSMPOKASIKS OF LOED CLONCURBI,"
'* NOTES ON THS COSNWALLIS FAPKBS," &C.
" Wliat caUs for vengeance j)^Y^^man*8 cause."— pops.
LONDON:
CHARLES J. SKEET, PUBLISHER,
10, KING WitLIAM STREET,
CQARINO CROSS.
1860.
Digitized byLjOOQlC
LONDON :
Printed by A. Schuize, 13, Poland Street.
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TO
MES. EDWAED GEALE,
TH£ INHEBITRESS OF MUCH FAMILY TALENT AND WOBTH,
THE FOLLOWING MEMOIB
OF
HEB DISTINGUISHED AUNT .
IS,
BY PBBMIS8I0N,
EESPECTFULLY INSCBIBED.
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ni- J660JJ
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PREFACE.
This Book has grown out of a publication of
one hundred and forty pages which appeared^ in
September last, under the title of " The Friends,
Foes, and Adventures of Lady Morgan/' Such
points in that work as seemed worthy of preserva-
tion have been embodied, with a mass of new mat-
ter, in the following pages. Notwithstanding that
*^ The Friends, Foes, and Adventures of Lady
Morgan'^ had many faults, it met with a favorable
reception, both from the friends of her Ladyship,
and from some of the leading literary organs— a
circumstance which encouraged the author to en-
deavour to make it more worthy of the subject,
and of the kind opinions expressed,* by devoting
* A few are subjoined by way of illustration.
The AthentBum in the course of a long Beview, said,
" Good and honest . . curious . . pleasant . . The writer has
bestowed his heart not less than his industry upon his task . .
A volume full of good things, and informed with a genuine love.
We foresee a demand for the book at the libraries with the
speedy issue of a new edition . . The most serious part of l^s
labour is a reply to Croker's malignant articles. He answers
Croker, not like Lady Morgan with airy banter and delightful
mockery, but with solid fact. Mr. Fitzpatrick has given us a
work to which we may refer all those who may be in search of
Digitized by V^OOQ IC
VI PREFACE.
the entire of his leisure to a series of troublesome
some trastworthy information about ' Lady Morgan, her Friends,
Foes and Adventures.' "
The Literary Gazette said: ** It is not our intention to
undertake the vindication of Lady Morgan's character, or to ex-
plain away her idiosyncracies, for that is sufficiently well done
in this little volume . . Our readers will find a great deal of
information touching the history of this very remarkable
woman, as well as a great deal relating to her family and con-
nections. The following extracts show so well the spirit of, the
writer, and are so full of eloquence, that we cannot resist the
temptation of giving them."
Notes and Queries said : " Pleasant, genial, and gossiping, on
that most brilliant of Ireland's daughters. The author has suc-
ceeded in throwing much new and interesting light upon Lady
Morgan's early life and labours, and produced a book creditable
to her memory and to his own talents. Mr. Fitzpatrick's valuable
* Note on the Cornwallis Papers' gave evidence of the store of cu-
rious materials For the literary and political history of Ireland
which he has at his command ; and the present volume encou-
rages us to hope that we may soon be favoured with fresh evi-
dence of his readiness and ability to make use of them."
The leading literary organs of Lady Morgan's native country,
were still more flattering in their estimate. The Daily Espress,
a Conservative Journal, said : '* The author has not placed his
name upon the title-page ; but we believe there is but one man
in the United Kingdom who could have produced this work. The
spirit of inquiry which exhausts every source of information —
the intimate acquaintance with files of newspapers half a century
old, with ancient almanacks and directories, and all sorts of con-
temporary records — ^the perseverance and the tact — the Catholic
and Celtic sympathies combined with tolerant sentiments and
enlarged views — the quiet humour — the genial spirit and racy
style — the ardent love of literary biography inspired by intense
nationality, all point to the author of the ' Note on the Corn-
wallis Papers,' and the ' Life and Times of Lord Cloncurry/ as
the writer of the * Friends, Foes, and Adventures of Lady Mor-
gan.' A professed lit^rateur would make two splendid volumes
out of these materials, and the published price would be a
guinea. Mr. Fitzpatrick does not stop to beat out his gold into
t)}in leaf; he collects the grains of the precious metal as dili-
gently and eagerly as an Australian digger, and deals out his
accumulated treasures as prodigally. The public, however, are
the gainers, and we thank the learned and accomplished author."
The Dublin Telegraph, said ; " Evidently the author of this
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PREFACE. VU
researches having for their object the increased in-
terest, and authenticity of the Book.
- " Lady Morgan, her Career, Literary and Per-
sonal/' aspires to the rank of almost a perfectly
new work ; and it ought not, therefore, to be re-
garded as a mere Second Edition, honorable as that
position undoubtedly is. Notwithstanding the adage
which assures us that " there is nothing new under
the sun," the author is not without hope that
readers may be found who will recognise some no-
velty in these pages. Many of the documents now
appear in print for the first time, and others, long
forgotten, have been exhumed from repositories
inaccessible to the general public.
A considerable amount of the information fur-
nished, concerns, it may be observed, the early
Life and Parentage of Lady Morgan. The following
remark expressed by the " Athengeum^' ,on May 7,
1859, may be said to have suggested this part of
the task.
" So very little is known of Lady Morgan's early
life— and so much debate has been held upon it in
^ork is the right man in the right place. He has dealt with a
worthy subject in a worthy way, and in less than 150 pages has
accumulated a mass of illustrative material, anecdotes » and social
revelations which must have cost him a world of research. All
this is put together in so lucid, fluent, and workmanlike a man-
ner, as to leave a regretful feeling on the mind that he had not
extended his volume into one of quadruple the size. Its author
deserves the gratitude of every Irishman/' ^
" Chivalrous and patriotic, complete and irresistible." — Nation,
" I rejoice,*' writes Mrs. S. C. Hall, " that an Irishman has
been found with sufficient chivalry to stand by Lady Morgan's
honoured grave, and plant there the Irish flag !"
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VUl PREFACE.
the political aud literary squabbles of party men
and women— that any light is welcome/'
The first chapter is almost entirely devoted to a
narrative of Robert Owenson's theatrical career,
and to a picture of the Irish stage at the close of
the last century.
It need not be feared that the present work will
clash or interfere with a volume entitled " Passages
from my Autobiography, by Sydney, Lady Mor-
gan,'* but which is merely an amusing Diary, co-
vering a period of less than nine months, «. e. from
August 1818 to May 1819. From this Book I
have not made a single extract but one. That
" Lady Morgan, her Career, Literary and Per-
sonaP' has been regarded as the reverse of intru-
sive, is sufficiently evident from the fact that her
Ladyship's immediate relatives and literary exe-
cutors have awarded to it their full meed of ap-
probation.
The Author, in conclusion, has to beg the
reader's indulgence, both for the delay which has
arisen in the publication of the work, and for some
traces of the absence of revision which he fears may
exist in its pages. The revision of the proof sheets
met with a serious interruption by a tedious illness,
which had very nearly proved fatal to the author's
own " Career, Literary and Personal"
Kilmacud Manor, Stillorgan, Co. Dublin,
^ St. Patrick's Day (March 17) 1860.
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LADY MORGAN,
HER CAREER,
LITERARY AND PERSONAL.
CHAPTER I.
A native of the Backs. — An Irish Hedge-School eighty years ago.
— Mac Owen conforms. — Accepts the office of steward to a
Mayo gentleman. — Prefers the Thespian art to Agriculture. —
Stage-struck. — Dismissed from service. — A Dilemma. — Writes to
Dr. Goldsmith. — The response and result. — Garrick. — The club
in Gerrard Street. — Mac Owen a player, vocalist, and composer.
— Attacked by the Theatrical Review. — " Mr. Owenson, from
the Theatre Royal Covent Garden." — An Elopement and pur-
suit. — Tragedy abandoned as a bad job. — Birth of Sydney
Owenson. — Honest Ned Lysaght. — " A Sprig of Shillalah." —
. Owenson's debut on the Dublin boards. — Becomes a theatric
proprietor. — Thomas Ryder, lessee and player. — Richard Brins-
ley Sheridan. — Ciytus and tlie Javelin.---Owenson*8 rolle of
characters at Crow Street. — Kane O'Hara. — Owenson and Mrs.
Jordan. — A bad pay. — Owenson becomes a wine merchant, but
soon resumes the. sock and buskin. — Dons female attire. — The
Beggar's Opera publicly prohibited. — Daly and his Duels.
The Backs is a district situate between Lough
Conn, with its myriad islands crowned by castellated
and monastic fragments, and the Biver Moy, or
B
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2 LADY MORGAN, HER CAREER,
Muadius, in the barony of Tirawley, and county
of Mayo. Here, in the year of our Lord, 1744,
Robert Mac'Owen was born. He sprang from the
old Milesian Irish family of Bally-Mac- Owen, in the
county of Sligo, and belonged — as we have been
informed by Doctor John O'Donovan — to the
Hy-Fiachrach race. His father and mother were
pious Catholics, who, in the face of strong tempta-
tions to the contrary, had clung, with singular
fidelitj, to the old faith throughout that long and
gloomy night of persecution which succeeded the
violation of the Treaty of Limerick. " Acts to Pre-
vent the further Growth of Popery,^^ were evpry day
being passed, and seminaries for the education of
the Catholic people did not exist even through
connivance, A tolerably organized Hedge-School,
moving from field to field, something on the
principle of a flying camp, occasionally caught the
eye of some zealous village loyalist, who, at the head
of a few devoted followers, gave chase and dis-
persed it ; but nothing of a more ambitious acade-
mic character was, for many years subsequently,
suflfered to flourish. At an early age, Ex)bert Mac
Owen was placed under the care of the Hedge-School
master of the Backs, who, in the midst of black-
berries and cowslips, taught 'his pupil how to read
and write. The boy was an apt scholar, and gave
pleasure, it is said, to the old Philomath. But Mac
Owen's religious principles do not seem to have been
as firmly rooted as his parents\ He saw and envied
the swagger of conscious ascendancy and social supe-
riority with which the Protestant portion of the popu-
lation pursued the tenor of their way. He felt
with humiliation his politically degraded condition ;
and unable to brook it longer, we find him repairing
one fine morning to the Parish minister, who in front
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LITERARY AND PERSONAL. 3
of the Communion Table unlocked — not with '^ the
Key of Heaven/^ but with " the Book of Common
Prayer'' — Mac Owen's chains, and set the helot
politically free.
His emancipation, however, does not seem to have
enabled him to grasp any of the good things of the
state, for, a few years afterwards, we obtain a glimpse
of Mac Owen discharging the unostentatious duties
of steward to Sir John Browne, of Castle Margaret,
county of Mayo. He filled this oflBce not ineffi-
ciently, but gave, it is said, more time to reading and
witnessing plays than altogether pleased his em-
ployer. To participate in the excitement and fun of
the strolling dramatic exhibitions which, at that time,
thronged Connaught, he frequently absented himself
from the sphere of his jurisdiction at Castle Margaret.
He became stage struck, and yearned for the London
Boards. He began to cultivate the graces of elocution,
and to cease cultivating land ; he liked alliteration and
recitation, was fonder of Shakspeare than of sheep-
shearing, and thought more highly of the Haymarket
and Covent Garden than of hay- making or gardening.
Mac Owen, in short, began to neglect the duties of
his office sadly, and more than once indignantly
astonished Sir John Browne by passionately alluding
to certain flocks upon the Grampian Hills to which
the Baronet had no manner of claim. Every day
confirmed Mac Owen more strongly in his theatrical
tendencies. In intrepid defiance of the "pooh
poohs P' and scowls of his agricultural friends,
he openly preferred canvas scenery to the grand
Mayo mountains, Croagh-Patrick, or Nephin;
and pronounced a green curtain vastly superior,
in point' of attraction, to the green sward. Mac
Owen was completely carried away by the fascinating
excitement of his new vocation ; he could think of
B 2
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4 LADY MORGAN, HER CAREER,
nothing else, until having one day assured Sir John
Browne that his name was Norval, and that ''to be or
not to be was the question,'' the indignant Baronet
visited Mac Owen with a summary dismissal from
his service.
Mac Owen's emancipation from the cares of
stewardship failed to fill him with very exuberant
emotions. He had no money saved, and soon the
grim realities of his position, stalked unpleasantly,
before his imagination. Whither was he to turn in
search of bread and happiness ? A lucky thought at
last occurred to him. What if, on the strength of a
Connaught relationship with Dr. Oliver Goldsmith,
he should write to that great man, and solicij; his a^i
and counsel ? With a trembling hand he posted b
long letter, addressed to Dr. Goldsmith, ''attict-
story on the stair-case Inner Temple." A correspon-
dence ensued. The friend of Johnson and Burke en-
tered with thorough goodnature into the matter. He
not only expressed a cordial willingness to assist Mac
Owen in his theatrical project, but named a day and
place for introducing him to David Garrick, then
manager of the Theatre Koyal Drury Lane.
A few circumstantial points enable us to fix the
date of this transaction with tolerable proximity. In
1759, Goldsmith attacked Garrick with great viru-
lence. Some years after. Goldsmith called upon
Garrick to solicit his vote for an office to which the
former aspired, but a resentful negative was the only
reply.* In 1768 we find Goldsmith and Garrick still
disunited by pique. t But in 1772 they are "on
very friendly terms.^J" As Goldsmith's light was
* Forster's " Life and Times of Goldsmith/' p. 141.
t Davies' " Memoirs of Garrick," v. ii. p. 154.
i Ibid, p. 159. This book, written in the year 1780, by one
who knew Goldsibith well, contains not a few startling pasbages
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le
UT£RABT AKD PEBSONAL. 5
finally quenched in 1774, it is reasonable to infer
that Owenson's introduction to Garrick took place in
or about the year 1771,
After the usual amount of negociation and pre-
paration^ Mac Owen at length got something to do
on the boards, but Garrick did not consider his
talents of sufficient calibre to hazard an appearance
at Drury Lane. The veteran acter, we believe, gave
him an introduction to a country manager of repute ;*
but as a preliminary step to attaining success, Garrick
impressed upon Mac Owen the expediency of angli-
cising his cognomen into the softer orthography of
Owenson.t "Would Macklin/' said he, "have been
as popular in England, had he not laid aside the
broguish MacLoughlin of his fathers?'^ The hint
was taken, and provincial playbills soon announced
"first appearance of Mr. Owenson on any stage/'
The debutant had too much passion for a theatrical
life to experience the slightest emotion of timidity or
awkwardness. He flung himself, heart and soul, into
every part which the stage manager allotted to him j
and the result was that Owenson's engagement became
a success. After some time he strengthened his
popularity by calling a new accomplishment to his
Hlostrative of that gteat man's weaknesses. Chapter xli. informs us
that " the doctor was such a compound of absurdity, envy, and ma-
lice^ contrasted with the opposite virtues of kindness, generosity,
and benevolence, that he might be said to consist of two distinct
souls, and to be influenced by the agency of a good and a bad
spirit."
* The Freeman** Journal of May 28, 1812, states that Owen-
son came out *' under the auspices of Garrick, to whom he was
introduced by Dr. Goldsmith,'' but we cannot And any evidence
of Owenson having made his d/bUt at Drury Lane.
t Innumerable entreaties were urged with^a view to make Mist
O'Neill change her name, but all to no effect, until Sir William
Beecher, on December 18, 1819, succeeded in effecting the deside-
ratum, by making her Lady Beecher.
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6 LADY MORGAN, HBB CAREER,
aid. He took lessons in singing from Doctor Arne,*
author of the opera of " Art^xerxes/^ and afterwards
from Worgan,t the composer of the beautiful East^
Hymn *' flallejujah/^ They found Owenson an apt
pupil, and urged him to cultivate the vocal taste, which
he did with such effect, that our player not only mas-
tered the science of singing, but became in a short
time able to compose original airs, and to put new
words and symphonies to old ones. Owenson is
said to have been the author of many charming Irish
airs — amongst others, " My Love's the Fairest Crea-
ture;^' but we are assured by Samuel Lover that in
the original Irish of Shetv nha chonos haint, it has
80 long existed that aU trace of the original composer
is lost. An anonymous writer has pronounced.
Owenson to have been "the author of the music,
with original words, of the song now popular as
' Eory O'More,' and appropriated by Mr. Lover as
his own,'' but Mr. Lover denies that he ever claimed
as his own exclusive composition, that highly popular
tune. ^
Owenson, at length, attained suflScient status
to warrant his kind friend. Dr. Goldsmith, in in-
troducing him to the famous Literary Club in Gerrard
Street. A sketch of Lady Morgan attributed to
her husband, and published in the "London and
Dublin Magazine" thirty-four years ago, mentions
this fact. A stronger evidence of Owenson's pleasant
qualities of head and heart could not be cited. The .
select character of the Club was guarded with such
jealous care, that it did not include more than twenty.
Great fears were entertained lest Boswell should have
been blackballed although proposed by Johnson.
"If they had refused, Sir," he afterwards said to
* Freeman* 8 Journal, Dublin, May 28th, 1812.
t Recollections of John O'Keefe, v. i. p. 355.
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UTERABY AND PEBSONAL. 7
Bozzy, '* they knew they'd never have got in another,
rd have kept them all out/' Johnson, in proposing
Boswell, used the right word to express his friend's
merit, and in defiance of his own dictionary, called
him " a cliibable man." Gerrard Street was a gay
place in those days. In this luxurious intellectual
den Owenson for many an evening enjoyed Johnson's
growl, Boswell's chuckle. Goldsmith's transparent
vanities, and Burke's pun, roared through the speak-
ing trumpet of Sir Joshua Reynolds.
In 1774, Owenson received through Garrick's
influence an engagement at Covent Garden Theatre.
It was said of Owenson, when sick of his agricultural
life at Castle Margaret that he was *' fondfer of reading
Biowe, than reaping rye ;" and this old predilection
for Eowe was now sustained by our player attempting
at Covent Garden, the somewhat ambitious part of
'* Tamerlane," in Eowe's celebrated tragedy of that
name. Prom some, of the leading newspapers Owen-
son received praise both on the score of his com-
manding figure, and liis marked histrionic passion;
but the '* Theatrical Review " ran coiinter to this
generous tone of criticism, called hijn '' a gawkey,"
and .pronounced his assumption of the part of
''Tamerlane," as a gross insult to common sense
and good taste. Driven from London by this
poisoned arrow, ''Mr. Owenson from the Theatre
Eoyal Covent Garden," proceeded to go the round
of the provincial houses, starring it at some, and
accepting very subordinate parts at others — ^until
having made some noise at the Shrewsbury Theatre
he took advantage of his temporary celebrity to make
a proposal of marriage to the daughter of a respect-
able country gentleman named Hill, who resided
in the neighbourhood of Shrewsbury.
. Owenson is traditionally described as a man of
Digitized by^OOQlC
» LADT HOEOANj HB£ CABBBB,
commanding stature and a persuasive tongue, who
could break as many hearts with his blarney, as
heads with his shillalah. Miss Jane Hill was
TSither passee J she had no objection to natrimony,
and rather encouraged the advances of the stalwart
young Irishman: but her parents, regarding the
phrase "strolling player'^ as one of stinging re-
proach, indignantly resisted Mr. Owenson^s suit.
With a face of desperate resignation the player
withdrew irom Mr. Hill^s house, ''positively the
last appearance but one of Mr. Owenson.*' The
attachment was dying, as Mr. and Mrs. Hill thought,
a natural death when Miss Jane — bathed in the silver
light of an autumnal moon — suddenly appeared one
night at her casement, and descended into two
colossal arms below. In less time than it takes to
record it, the devoted pair were flying along the
banks of the Severn in quest of happiness and a
parson. Like thorough historians we have explored
the route that Owenson and his lady are believed
to have taken. Lime trees of enormous altitude
gothically over-arch the road for several miles along
the banks of the river, and resemble an endless
cathedral aisle. At Litchfield, Mr. and Mrs. Owen-
son were, we believe, married. The ceremony had
happily concluded ere old Mr. Hill, teeming with
perspiration, and foaming with rage, arrived to
forbid the bans. Where the honeymoon was passed
tradition does not s^te.
The tranquillity of matriniony failed to extin-
guish Owenson's theatric mania. He continued to
act before provincial audiences, and became a fa-
vourite. His appearance told strongly in his favour ;
all accounts, traditional and documental, concur in
assigning to Owenson a gallant, stalwart figure, a
commanding aspect, Celtic features, with a gen-
Digitized by VjOOQIC
HTEEA.EY AND PEESONAL. 9
tlemanly and prepossessing deportment. The attack
of the 'Theatrical Review' had stung Owenson to
the quick, but it did not nerve him to renewed exer-
tion and stronger ambition ; tragedy in general, and
'' Tamerlane^' in particular, were abandoned as a bad
job; and the lighter walks of comedy, and Irish
drama, were now trod, with considerable success, by
Mr. Owenson. His commanding figure and deport-
meat were points which, as already observed, told
well in his favour. " He was celebrated as an Irish
comedian gmd vocalist,^' observes an octogenarian
actor, "he understood the ancient language of the
country, and in stature looked a true descendant of
the Milesian race of heroes.'^^
Dramatic singers were scarce moreover ; Incledon
and Braham had not yet appeared before the public ;
and the lessons which Owenson had some years pre-
viously received from Worgan and Arne, were now
turned to account. '' His singing the Irish, songs,''
wrote one who knew Owenson intimately, '* being mas-
ter of the Irish language, as also a perfect musician, as
to voice, * had great effect with the admirers of our
national melody. His Major O'Flaherty, was a
great favourite ; but his prime character was Teague
in the 'Committee, or the Faithful Irishman,' in
which, wrapped in a blanket, and flourishing his
great oaken cudgel, he sung an Irish planxty, perfect
in language, style and action ; ^11 whicti rendered his
benefits very substantial; Owenson sent me over
this tune, and to it I wrote the Finale to the 'Poor
Soldier.' "t
Owenson's great success in singing songs of this
character, was doubtless attributable to the profound
* " Fifty Years of an Actor's Life," by W. A. Donaldson, 1858
Parti.
t Recollections of John O'Keefe, voL i. p. 138.
Digitized byLjOOQlC
10 LABY MORGAN, HEE CAREER,
acquaintance with the Irish tongue, which he neces-
sarily formed during the long period of his sojourn
in Connaught, where the vernacular language is
spoken almost exclusively by the labouring classes.
The first fruit of Robert Owenson's alliance with
Jane Hill was the subject of these pages. The
date of her birth has, for more than half a cen-
tury, been a source of much literary controversy.
The late John Wilson Croker instituted a formal
commission, with a view to its discovery, but all to no
effect. " The date of her birth^' said the ' Athenaeum'
in recording her death " she would never tell, and
the subject of the when and where provoked a
long discussion on the part of that ancient Tory
faction to which she was all her life so sharply op-
posed.*' Again on Sept. 10, following, the same
journal noticed "Lady Morgan's skill in baffling
even the most curiously and courteously veiled ques-
tions on the subject,^' and adds, ''no subtlety of
inquiry could entrap Lady Morgan into admission
about her age.^'^
The date, however, can now be fixed with tolerable
* More than one amusing instance might be given to shew
Lady Morgan's wish to clip at least twenty years off her actual
age. In 1855, Mr. Fitzpatrick sent to Lady Morgan an old news-
paper dated December J 807, containing an eminently creditable
letter from her pen, believing that after the lapse of half a century,
it would interest the veteran authoress to see it again. We trans-
cribe an extract from her acknowledgment, because it exhibits
the peculiarity alluded to, and, in the next place, records an
early effort of her pen, little, if at all, known.
" Lady Morgan presents Mr. Fitzpatrick her compliments, and
best thanks for the enclosure of her early {very early I) scrap of
authorship, written when she but " lisped in numbers" She has
no recollection of the letter he has sent her, but she remembers
writing something of the same kind on behalf of the little sweeps
of Dublin^ in her thirteenth year, which obtained notice from her
friend * TAe Freeman.* "
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LITEBART AKD PERSONAL. 11
accuracy. On April 24th, 1845, her sister. Lady
Clarke died, at the age of sixty. That she was the
junior of Lady Morgan by ten years is well-known tp
her family. Lady Morgan must, therefore, have been
borxi in 1775. Her birth occurred on shipboard, so
that no country can claim the honour of Lady Mor-
gan's nativity ; but as it took place when crossing
the Irish Sea, she may fairly be called an Irish
woman, even though her subsequent career had never
beett distinguished by those ennobling characteristics
of nationality which have rendered the name of Lady
Morgan so valued in Ireland.
Owenson was proud of his little daughter, and
resolved to celebrate her christening with becoming
festivity. Ned Lysaght, the once famous extempore
Irish poet, was invited to attend the baptismal cere-
mony in the capacity of god-papa; and Ned, with
characteristic good nature, at once accepted the res-
ponsibility. He and Owenson, as two vpry eminent
boon companions, wits, poets, and singers of con-
vivial songs, it may well be supposed that
some rivalry existed between them ; but it is plea-
sant to find that the old adage, "two of a trade
never agree/' was not, in this instance, verified.
Lysaght, for many years after continued to regard
the tiny child with a fatherly feeling of affection and
pride; and when, in 1809, death snatched him
away, she felt with bitter sorrow, her doubly orphaned
position. .
At what time the baptismal ceremony took place,
it is not easy to determine. In the first edition of
this work, we described it in immediate connection
with the infancy of little Sydney. But an inferential
conclusion incfines us to believe that Owenson de-
layed the performance of the rite until the child had
been sufficiently advanced in religious knowledge " to
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12 LADY MORGAN, HER CAREER,
have the faith, and if need be, the repentance of the
convert/' This is the more likely, as Mrs. Owenson
always made the Bible her sole guide and rule of
faith ; and she knew that no passage existed in the
Scripture to justify infant baptism, although eccle
siastical tradition — which Protestants reject — enforces
its necessity. That the famous "Counsellor Ly-
aaghf stood sponsor for little Sydney is certain,
blit it was not until 1788 that Lysaght became a
member of the Irish Bar. Nor was he living in
Dublin for several years previously. Sir Jonah Bar^
rington mentions in his Sketches (iii. 321,) that he
and Lysaght were at the Temple together in 1785.
Through the courtesy of the Rev. Dr. TisdaU, we
have been enabled to search the parish registry of
St. Andrew's Dublin,^ but no record exists therein of
the baptism of Sydney Owenson. The following entry,
however, may be found under date of May 11th,
1783 : ^'Eobert Whitmore, son of Robert and Jane
Owenson, baptised — John Hewitt, vicar.'^ Sydney
was the first, and for several years the only child.
Robert came next; and in 1785, Olivia was born.
Sydney Owenson had begun making verses before
she had left the nursery. In a poetic address to her
only sister OHvia, afterwards Lady Clarke, our
authoress plainly states this fact :
Have I from childhood then, been writing,
And ere I well could write, inditing,
In scribbling ever still delighting ;
' Since first the muse
Did kindly string my infant lyre.
And o*er my mind poetic fire
As kind infuse ;
At Sydne/s premature development of bardic
* In 1777, Owenson resided at 3, Crow Street, Dublin; in
1794, at 60, Dame Street; in 1799, at 15, Trinity Street.
These localities are all within the parish of St. Andrew.
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LITERARY AND PERSONAL. 18
genius, Lysaght^s interest in his little god-daughter
strengthened to intensity : and in the fulness of his
delight the convivial councillor seized his pen and
threw off the following characteristic fragment. —
^"^ The muses met me once not very sober,
fiut full of frolic at your merry christening !
And now, this twenty-third day of October,
As they foretold, to your sweet lays I'm listening.
They called you " Infant Muse," and said your lyre
Should one day wake your nation's latent fire ;
They ordered Genius, garlands to entwine
For Sidney ; — Me, i'faith, they plied with wine."
Lysaght was a perfect type of the Irish gentleman
of the old school. Lavish of money, he found
himself at the age of thirty-five, with little but his
pen and his pedigree. Convivial, gay, of high and
dauntless spirit, he held hair-triggers as often as
hock-tumblers in his right hand, lond of the plea-
sures of the table, he had also a taste for the terrors
of the field. Though sometimes eager to resent, he
was perhaps more often impatient to forgive. As a
second, especially in political quarrels, Lysaght was
constantly m requisition. Perhaps the most remark-
able case was that of the Right Hon. George Ogle,
who declared at a public dinner in Dublin, that
" a papist would swallow a false oath as easily as he
would a poached egg.^' Four shots having been in-
terchanged without. eSect, Lysaght on behalf of the
principal, who was a Catholic, compelled the Privy
Councillor to write an apologetic explanation.
The sectarian prejudices of those days seem to
have sadly warped the minds of men, otherwise
expansive and generous. It is hard to understand
how the accomplished writer of "Banna^s Banks,^*
and "Molly Asthore,'' could give utterance to a
sentiment so coarse and narrow-minded.
Lysaght wrote a great number of stirring songs.
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[e
14 lady' morgan, her career,
racy of the soil. " Donnybrook Fair/^* " The Rakes
of Mallow/^ and " We love the man who led the
van of Irish volunteers/' may be cited as examples.
In politics Lysaght had unfortunately no fixed
principle. A patriot to-day and a courtier to-mor-
row, he would fling awkward squibs at the feet of
royalty now, and the next minute hurl a disconcerting
cracker into the ranks of the popular party. He
ridiculed the opponents ' of the Union with his pen,
and according to Sir Jonah Barrington, received
cash in acknowledgment from Lord Castlereagh.
Dr. Madden tells us that he was a sworn " united
Irishman.^' Lysaght attempted to practice at the
* Since the appearaDce of the first edition of this work, we
receiyed a letter from a member of the Royal Irish Academy,
claiming for the late Mr. H. B. Code, proprietor oi The Warder
newspaper, the authorship of the well-known national song of
" Donnybrook Fair." Our correspondent has always understood
Mr. Code to be the writer, bu^ never heard him absolutely avow
the fact. As a specimen of Mr. Code's facility in versification, he
quotes the following, which was thrown off in about a hundred
seconds. On coming down to breakfast one morning, Mr. Code
found on the floor a bracelet which a lady had dropped ; and he
instantly sent it into her room vnth his compliments and im-
promptu —
Stray bracelet of the heedless fair,
"Why leave that beauteous arm bare ?
Thou silly thing, were I but thee,
I'd cling there to eternity.
And through the veins round which I dwell
Infuse my passion to her soul,
And cling thereto with life and breath,
Till hook and eye were loosed in death.
Sir Jonah Barrington's " Personal Sketches," vol. ii. p. 231,
was our authority for the statement that Lysaght wrote the song
of " Donnybrook Fair," but Barrington is not infallible, for, he
also attributes to Lysaght, (v. iii. p. 320). <* Green were the fields
where our forefathers dwelt, O," whereas the real author was
Cftorge Nugent Reynolds. Samuel Lover, in his " Lyrics of Ire-
land," (139) has given *' Donnybrook Fair," with Lysaght's name.
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LITERAEY AND PEESONAL. 15
English Bar, but after a short experience declared
that he had not law enough for the King's Bench,
and was not dull enough for the Court of Chancery,
and that before he could succeed at the Old Bailey,
he must shoot Garrow which w ould be extremely dis-
agreeable to him.
Robert Owenson selected the name of Sydney for
his little daughter in fond recollection of the benevo-
lent rule of Sir Henry Sidney, who in his capacity of
Lord Deputy, visited Con naught in 1575, and
showed protection to many of the Irish exiles.
• That old Mr. HiU became, after a while, reconciled
to the marriage of his daughter with Owenson, is
evident, for in the year 1777 we find the latter pur-
chasing a share in Crow Street Theatre, with a por-
tion of his wife's dower, and becoming joint pro-
prietor with Thomas Ryder.^ Hitchcock, speaking
of this remarkable performer, in 1794, observes that
he was ever distinguished by the versatiHty as well
as excellence of hi? genius, and that so far bacK
as 1770, Ryder might be deemed a theatrical Atl^s,
who at that time, and for many years after, sup-
ported, almost unaided, the heavy burthen of the
Irish drama. '^It might be truly said,'' adds
Hitchcock, " that for a period of twelve years he was
almost every night before the public." Ryder
was originally manager of Smock Alley Theatre,
bot evidently on the authority of Sir Jonah Barrington. The
same remark applies to D. 0. Maddyn's observation in the '* Reve-
lations of Ireland/' p. 12.
* We gather this fact from a memoir of Lady Morgan, contri-
buted to " The London and Dublin Magazine," for 1826. The
details came from Lady Morgan herself, and the Editor's impres-
sion is that they were thrown into literary shape by Sir Charles
Morgan, who constantly wrote for that Magazine, and received as
paydClOper sheet. The article in question, mentions that "on
Mr. Owenson's marriage with a respectable Englishwoman, he ptA*.
chased a share in one of the Dublin theatres, and became joint
proprietor with the celebrated Mr. Ryder."
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16 LADY MOBOAN^ HER CABEEB,
which opened under his auspices in September 1772.
He was the first Patentee who admitted ladies into
the pit — a privilege which had previously been
denied.* It was not, however, until April, 1773,
that the landlord, the Reverend Dr. Wilson of
Trinity College, drew up a deed letting 4;he theatre
to Ryder for the term of his life at the annual rent
of £:365. In 1776, Ryder took a lease of Crow
Street Theatre while retaining possession of Smpck
Alley House to prevent opposition .f
In the Freeman's Journal of October 19th 1776,
we have traced, after a long and laborious search, the
first appearance of Owenson in Dublin. " On Monday
next,^ observes the advertisement, ''at the The-
atre Royal Crow Street, there will be presented a
comedy called 'The West Indian,'— Major O'Fla-
herty (with a song) Mr. Owenson from the The-
atre Royal in Covent Garden, being his first ap-
pearance in this kingdom. '' Two very acute dra-
matic critics wrote in the Freeman's Journal at
this period under the respective signatures of "A
Theatrical Spy,'' and "Dramatic Censor/' The
latter in an article dated October 22nd, 1776, has
placed on record the foUowiiig shrewd and interest-
ing notice of Owenson's diMt in Dublin. " The cha-
racter of Major O'Flaherty was performed with great
, spirit and propriety by Mr. Owenson. His figure is
perfectly well adapted, his brogue was characteristic,
and not too vulgar; but his countenance did not appear
old enough for a man who had seen thirty years hard
service. The song he sang was taken from Mr. Mc
Dermotf s opera of ' The Milesian,' and was received
with great applause though rather abruptly intro-
duced. This gentleman will forgive me, if I hint,
* Hitchcock's " View of the Irish Stage," v. ii. p. 293 —
Dublin 1794.
t Gilbert's " History of DubUn," v. ii. pp. 104-7.
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oogle
LITERARY AND PERSONAL. 17
that although it is perfectly natural in a man when
his mind is strongly agitated, to express its overflow-
ings in its own native language, even when talking to
people in an acquired one, yet his uttering phrases
in Irish so very frequently, seemed rather a local
compliment than a judicious use of them, and might
by some be construed into a clap trap. Let him ask
himself would he use so many if performing the same
character in England ? The answer will justify this
remark.^^* The " Theatrical Critic^Uhought Owenson
too young for the character of Major O'Flaherty.
A writer of vast dramatic experience, however, has
said that ^'an old man acted well by a young one is
truly entertaining, but performed by a real old man
is lamentable, and not to be bome.^'t
We have our suspicions as to whose pen threw off
the flowing and acute theatrical criticisms in the * Free-
man^s JournaV eighty-five years ago, ui)der the signa-
tures of the '^ Dramatic Censor,^' and "Theatric
Spy.'' Moore, in the third chapter of his '' Memoirs
of R. B. Sheridan,'' observes, in noticing the events
of the year 1775, that Sheridan wrote numerous
*' essays for the newspapers," and adds : " There are
also among his manuscripts some commencements of
periodical papers, under various names, 'The Detec-
tor,' * The Dramatic Censor, &c.' " Is it not likely
that Sheridan may have thrown an occasional paper
into the leading literary organ of his native city?
It is worthy of notice that Thomas Sheridan, his
father, was performing on the Dublin boards in
1777.J
* Freeman* 8 Journal^ Dublin, October 19, 1776.
f Tate Wilkinson's Memoirs, v. ii. p. 127.
X Gilbert's " History of Dublin," p. 198, vol. ii. Did
Sheridan was a tragedian of great eminence and prodigious
solemnity. " I recoUect him particularly," says Sir Jonab
Barrington, "playing ^ Akarander the Greaty and throwing the
O
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18 LADY MORGAN, BEE CAEEEB,
The parts which Owenson performed at Crow
Street during the remainder of the season of 1776
may be rapidly traced and followed. On Nov. 5th,
we find him playing Lysimachus, in Lee's tragedy of
^^ Alexander the Great/' This play was produced at
Crow Street, with a good deal of startling mechanical
contrivance and efiFect, in order to eclipse Mossop's
grand spectacle of "Coriolanus^' at Smock Alley.
Alexander's beautiful chariot was drawn from the ex-
treme end of the stage by unarmed soldiery. " In a
twinkling,'^ writes O'Keefe, "it disappeared, and every
soldier was, at the instant, armed. Each man, hav-
ing his particular duty previously assigned to him,
laid his hand on different parts of the chariot ; one
took a wheel— this was a shield — all in a moment
wore shields ; the axle-tree was taken by another — it
was a spear ; the body of the chariot flew to pieces,
and the whole- was converted into swords, javelins,
lances, standards, &c. Each soldier, thus armed,
arranged himself at the sides, and Alexander, stand-
ing in the centre, began his speech,"
javelin at Clytus, whom happening to miss, he hit the cup-bearer
then played by one of the hack performers, a Mr. Jemmy Fottrel.
Jemmy very naturally supposed that he was hit designedly, and
that it was some new light of the great Mr. Sheridan, to slay the
cup-bearer in preference to his friend Clytus, which certainly
would have been a less unjustifiable murder, and that he ought to
tumble down, and make a painful end, according to dramatic
custom time immemorial. Immediately, therefore, on being
struck, Mr. James Fottrel, (who was the ugliest cup-bearer ever
employed by any monarch) reeled, staggered, and fell, very natu-
rally, considering it was his first death ; but being determined on
this unexpected opportunity to make an impression upon the
audience, when he found himself stretched on the boards at full
Tength, he began to roll about, kick, and flap the stage with his
hands most immoderately, and at length expired, with a groan so
long and so loud, that it paralysed even the people in the galleries,
whilst the ladies, believing that he was really killed, cried aloud.
Though then very j^oung, I was myself so terrified that 1 shall
never forget it."
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LTTEEART AND PERSONAL. 19
The part of Lysimachus was not Owenson's forte.
He appeared to better advantage in such light musi-
cal pieces as Bickerstaff's '^Maid of the Mill/'
and on November 14th 1776, may be found a favour-
able notice from the " Dramatic Censor/' of Owen-
son's acting of Mervyn in that piece.
Th9mas Moore tells us that in consequence of the
bad acting of I^e as Sir Lucius (yXrigger, the
famous comedy of '^The Eivals" failed on its first
representation in 1775."^ In Ireland the play became
intensely popular, and it is no extravagant flight of
imagination to conjecture that Owenson's personation
of the belligerent Irish Baronet contributed in no
small degree to the success qf the piece. On No-
vember ^Ist, 1776, "The Rivals" is announced for
representation at Crow Street Theatre, with the part
of Sir Lucius CTrigger by Mr. Owenson. This
character was a decided hit of Owenson's. Lady
Morgan, in a conversation with Mr. Cole, formerly
lessee of the theatre Eoyal, Dublin, particularly
alluded to her father's happy execution of the part of
Sir Lucius O'Trigger.t "The Rivals" had a run of
many nights at Crow Street. No new character is
undertaken by Owenson until December 28, 1776,
when he appeared as Marciar in Lee's " Theodosius,
or the Force of Love."
His next pai-t is Mr. Heapy in "The Siege of
Harlech/' January 20th, 1777; Foigard in "The
Beaux Strategem," January 2ist; The Irishman
in "The Double Valet/' January 28th ; Phocian in
"The Grecian Daughter," February 17th; Vernon
in "Henry IV," February 25th; ConoUy in "The
School for Wives/' February 28th; Merlin in
"Cymon/' March 11th; and on the 15th of that
* Memoirs of R. B. Sheridan, chap. iii. p. 65.
t Letter from J. W. Cole, Esq., Nov. 16th, 1859.
C 2
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20 LADY MORGAN, HEE CAREER,
month by command of his Excellency John, Earl
of Buckingham, Lord-Lieutenant of Ireland, was
produced " the most tragical tragedy that ever was
tragedized by any company of tragedians, called
Chrononhotonthologos— lii^r^/ow Funidos, Mr. Ry-
der ; King of the Fiddlers, Mr. O'Keefe ; Cupid,
Mr. Owenson/'
• On March 31st, 1777, was performed the prelude
of "New Brooms/' -Phelim OTlaherty, "with a
song in character,^' Mr. Owenson ; after which the
Pantomime of" Harlequin in the Moon,'' Wizard, Mr.
Owenson. On April 1st he appeared as Tom Tug,
the "Waterman, in Dibdin's musical entertainment
of that name ; and on April the 3rd (a command
night) as Pan in O'Hara's " Midas/' and Octavio in
"The Governess." A letter from Kane O'Hara,
recently published by Mr. Gilbert particularly refers
to this evening. The letter bears date 4th April
1777, and is addressed to the musical manager at
Crow Street. This was the first representation of
" Midas," on the Dublin Boards, and O'Hara seems
to have been exceedingly apprehensive lest the per-
formers should "alter, or add, or omit any word
or note in air or recitative," O'Hara adds, "I
purpose to be present at every representation, ac-
companied by some friends, who will take their cue
of clapping or hissing from me ; and you may assure
the company, that any deviation on their part will
be reprimanded in the most marked mode of dis-
approbation," O'Hara, in this letter, assigned to
Owenson the part of Pan with various new songs,
including " Pox on your pother about this or that."
It is impossible to regard this act as otherwise than
complimentary to Owenson. Pan would seem to
have been O'Hara's favourite part, for, as we are
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MTERART AND PBESONAL. 21
assured, it was reserved by the author for himself
on the first representation of '^ Midas/^*
In the part of Pan, Owenson made no ephemeral
hit, but acquired a permanent and substantial fame.
A writer in 1820 informs us that " Owenson was
the favourite Pan of the Irish stage, and performed
it with great applause so late as I807.t
Owenson's new characters from the fourth to the
twelfth of April were True Blue in "The Press
Gang, or, the Parting Lovers ;'' Captain O'Cutter
in Colman's Comedy of " The Jealous Wife ;'' Eustace
in "Love in a Village/' The Shepherd, in "Maid
of the Oaks/' and llemenes in " Artaxerxes/' On
the 13th, "The Shamrock, or, St. Patrick's Day,'' was
produced, " with a grand pageant and procession of
kings of Leinster, Munster, and Connaught ; Strong-
bow, de Courcy, Sitric the Dane, each attended with
their respective arms, ensignia, and appendages;
Hibemia in a triumphal car, Druids, Bards, Games,
Banshees, Leprachauns, Hibernians in their original
state ; Peace, Fame, Hospitality, Industry, &c. To
conclude with a song by Carolan the ancient Irish
Bard (Mr. Owenson), and grand chorus by all the
characters."
.Dorothy Bland, alias, Francis, a young and
pretty Waterford girl, widely known by her sub-
sequently assumed name of Mrs. Jgrdan, and
her connectioji with an occupant of the British
throne, made her debut at Crow Street Theatre during
the year. 1777, as Phoebe in "As you like it,"
Owensonj acting the part of Oliver in the same piece.
Miss Bland's pleasant artlessness and sportive sim-
plicity soon gained for her many admirers. " Joyous,
* The Private Theatre of Kilkenny and other private theatres
in Ireland. — " Fifty copies only printed/* 1825, p. 2.
t Eemarks prefixed to * Midas* in Cumberland's British Theatre.
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Zi LADY UOBGAN^ HEB OABEBB^
animated, and droll*' writes Sir Jonah Barrington,
" her laugh arose from her heart, her tear started inge^
nuously from her feeling/' "Her face, her tone,
her manner,'' says HazUtt, ''were irresistible; her
smile had the effect of sunshine, and her laugh did
one good to hear it." Nature was her sole instruct-
ress, "Had I studied my positions, weighed my
words, and measured my sentences," said Mrs. Jor-
dan herself, " I should have been artificial, and they
might have hissed me; so when I got the words
by heart, I told Nature I was then at her service
to do whatever she thought proper with my feet,
legs, hands, arms, and features, to her I left the
whole matter. I became her puppet, and never
interfered farther myself in the business, I heard
the audience laugh at me, and 1 laughed at myself;
they laughed again, so did I."
Mr. Doyne, a young military ofiBcer with plain
features, and small means, fell desperately in love
with !Phcebe, and pursued her everywhere with de-
clarations of the passion which almost broke his
heart. He proposed to make Dorothea Francis his
wife; but Owenson, who took a strong interest in
the gradually developing dramatic genius of this
young and interesting little giil, urged her mother
to reject Lieutenant Doyne's addresses ;"^ advice which
it seems wa^ thankfully received and promptly acted
on.t Opinions will differ as to whether Owenson
was right or wrong in this proceeding. As the wife
of the plain and poor Lieutenant, Dorothea Francis
might have been happier than the separated com-
panion of a royal personage with a retiring allowance
of £4,400 a year. Overwhelmed by afflictions, and
in a state of extreme mental misery, she who had
♦ Personal Sketches, by Sir Jonah Barrington, v. ii. p. 219,
f Boaden's *' Memoirs of Mrs. Jordan," voL !., p. 14.
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LTTEUARY AND PERSONAL. 23
once rioted in her fine animal spirits, died Julv 3rd,
1816.
But to resume our examination of the parts wliich
Owenson played during his first season on the Dub-
lin boards. On April 19, 1777, he appears as
Mercury in C Harass burletta of ''The Golden Pip-
pin /' on May 5th (a command night) as Conolly
in "The School for Wives;'' and on the 3rd as
Harman in " Lionel and Clarissa.'' Owenson's benefit
took place a few evenings subsequently, on which
occasion was produced "a Prelude, with a new
prologue in the character of an Irishman," and the
comedy of "The Twin Rivals, Teague (with songs)
Mr. Owenson. Between the play and farce," con-
tinues the original advertisement "an occasional
Musical Medley Epilogue (written by the author of
' Tristram Shandy ') will be sung by Mr. Owenson,
of whom tickets may be procured at No. 3, Crow
Street."
On the 8th May, 1777, the Viceroy gave another
"command night," when Eeid's farce of "The
Registry Office," was performed with applause by
Owenson and_ Ryder. But Owenson's great hit of
the season was Phelim O'Flanagan in the Prelude,
"in which," says the advertisement on May 9th,
1777, "will be introduced some favourite Italian
and Irish songs, particularly Cardan's * Receipt for
Drinking' in Irish, and 'Pie Raca na Ruarka,' in
English and Irish, the Irish by Carolan, the trans-
lation by Dean Swift."
** 0*Ruarc's noble feast wiU ne'er be forgot,
By those who were there, and by those who were not."
This performance became infinitely popular; and
met with endless encores.
Cumberland's comic opera of "The Summer's
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24 LADY MORGAN, HER CAREER,
Tale'' was brought forward on May 10th, Owenson
acting the part of Frederick. Three evenings kter
we find "the Dragon of Wantley '^ announced, with
the part of the Dragon, of course, by Owenson.
This performance had a run until the 24th when
Owenson was again called upon to display- his ope-
ratic powers in the pleasant burletta of " The Gover-
ness '/' " The dresses entirely new,'' says the adver-
tisement, " to conclude with a grand masquerade, illu-
minated by seven hundred lamps, and a CotilHon dance
by Characters." A new burlesque satire, called " The
Hehearsal, or a Lick at the Modern Drama," in which
Owenson was to take a prominent part, had long been
advertised for the 26th May. The author, moreover,
circulated an appeal to the public, which, as fur-
nishing an illustration of some extinct theatrical
customs, we subjoin: "The author of the new re-
hearsal, relying on the candour of the public, on
which alone he founds his hope of success, begs
leave to request their patronage for his comedy. And
as it is quite unusual for an author to have the
profit of the first representation of a new piece, he
assures theui tliis innovation in his favour arises
entirely from the condescension of Mr. Ryder, who,
reflecting that the benefits and other course of
business prevented the appearance of this comedy
till so late in the season, with a generosity hitherto
unparalleled by any manager of his owr» nation, and
unsolicited, oftered to give the first night to the
author; for which he thinks himself bound, in
justice and gratitude to return his thanks in the
moi?t public manner. In regard to the merits of the
piece, the author cannot presume to decide; but
respectfully leaves the determination to the judicious
public, fully satisfied that it shall stand or fall by
their sufl'rages. He will only add that if satire, free
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UTSUABY AND PBBSONAL. 25
from personality, an attempt to restore humoar to
modern comedy, a great variety of character, and
a diligent attention to nature can please, he is not
without hope of obtaining the approbation of the
audience, the ultimate end of his wishes, and the
best reward of his endeavours/'
The Viceroy would seem to have been pleased with
the acting of Owenson and his colleagues, for on
June 3rd, we find the announcement of another per-
formance by command. Owenson, Eyder, and Miss
Francis, played on this occasion in " As you like it/'
The tragedy of " Zenobia,'' and Milton's Masque of
''Comus/' were, a few evenings later produced,
Owenson playing Zopoim in the first piece, and a
Bacchanal in the other. The benefit of his musical
preceptor, Dr. Arne, was announced on 21st June,
when Owenson appeared as Mervin in " The Maid of
the Mill," and Leander in the " Padlock."
" When the audiences of Smock Alley were begin-
ning to flag," writes Sir Jonah Barrington, " Old
Sparkes told Ryder, if he would bring out the after-
piece of 'The Padlock,' and permit him to manage
it, he would ensure him a succession of good nights.
Byder gave him his way, and the bills announced a
first appearance in the part of Leonora : the debutante
was reported to be a Spanish lady. The public
curiosity was excited, and, youth, beauty, and tremu-
lous modesty were all anticipated ; the house over-
flowed ; impatience was unbounded ; the play ended
in confusion, and the overture of 'The Padlock,'
was received with rapture. Leonora at length
appeared; the clapping was hke thunder, to give
courage to the debutante^ who had a handsome face,
and was very beautifully dressed as a Spanish donna,
which it was supposed she really was. Her gigantic
size, it is true, rather astonished the audience. How-
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26 LADY MORGAN, HER CAREER,
ever, they willingly took for granted that the Spa-
niards were an immense people, and it was observed
that England must have had a great escape of the
Spanish Armada, if the men were proportionably
gigantic to the ladies. Her voice too was rather of
tne Jioarsest, but that was accounted for by the
sudden change of climate: at last, Leonora began her
song of 'Sweet Robin^ —
Say, little foolish fluttering thing,
WJhither, ah r whither would you wing ?
and at the same moment Leonora^s mask falling off,
old Sparkes stood confessed, with an immense
gander which he brought from under his cloak, and
which he had trained to stand on his hand and
screech to his voice, and in chorus with himself. The
whim took : the roar of laughter was quite inconceiv-
able : he had also got Mungo played by area/ black :
and the whole was so extravagantly ludicrous, and so
entirely to the taste of the Irish galleries at that time,
that his ' Sweet Robin' was encored, and the fre-
quent repetition of the piece. replenished poor Ryder's
treasury for the residue of the season/'
The galleiies, or rather the Gods who occupied
them, do not seem to have contented themselves in
those days, by merely hissing whenever any circum-
stance occurred below to cross their divine will. An
advertisement from Ryder, dated July 1st, 1777,
offers a '^ reward of ten guineas for the person who
flung the quart bottle from the upper gallery upon
the stage." There were no police in those days to
keep order, and no surveillance of any description
existed in the house, with the exception of two sol-
diers with fixed 'bayonets, who always "stood
like statues on each side of the stage." The or-
chestra was often visited with vengeance from on
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LTTSRAEY AND PERSONAL. 27
high ; and Hitchcock assures us that impelled by the
motives of self-preservation, the musicians were not
unfrequently obliged to play behind the scenes.
We have referred to Byder's falling fortunes.
Being at last unable to discharge an arrear of rent
which had accumulated on Smock Alley Theatre, he
was obliged to surrender the House to Richard Daly,
who in October, 1781, opened it with the engage-
ment of John Philip Kemble at £5 per week.
Eyder continued patentee and manager of Crow
Sta'eet ; but the formidable rivalry of Smock Alley soon
reduced him to great embarrassment. On one occa-
sion at Crow Street, when the play was by com-
mand of the Lord-Lieutenant, the actors came for-
ward and announced that the company, having been
for some time unpaid, would not perform. The man-
ager, then confined to bis room from severe illness,
advertised that he would appear on the stage and state
his case to the public. When Ryder came forward,
his appearance was so ghastly that the audience called
the prompter to bring him a chair, seated on which
he read vtvrious documents to show that the most
clamorous performers were those who in reality had
the least cause of complaint. Robert Owenson made
an effort to answer Ryder, but the audience would
not listen to him.* In 1782 Ryder became bank-
rapt.
For several years previous, the actors, in truth, had
been most irregularly paid, and many strange expe-
dients are recorded to which they resorted in order to
compel the manager to pay up arrears. John CKeefe
informs us that one night when the then lessee as
King Lear was supported in the arms of an actor who
played Kent, the latter in a whisper said, " If you
* Gilbert's " History of Dublin," v. ii. p. 204.
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28 LADT MORGAN^ HE£ CAEfiEE,
don't give me your honour, sir, that you'll pay me
this night, Til let you drop about the boards/' The
monarch alarmed, said, " Don't talk to me now." " I
will," said Kent, " I'll let you drop." The promise
was at length given, and Kent got his money.* Tate
Wilkinson, speaking ofMossop, the manager to whom
CKKeeie alludes, says that whenever he got a full
house, instead of paying his performers, he flew to a
gambling house, '' and always returned home with an
aching head and heart ; but his guineas, with debts
of honour, were always left behind." Wilkinson
describes Mrs. Brandon, the acting star, flinging her-
self at the pompous manager's feet, and imploring, for
God's sake to give her something, as she was actu-
ally starving. Mossop, — *^ Woman, you have £5 per
week." Mrs, Brandon. — ^' 1 have been in Dublin
six months, and in all that time have only received
£6.'^ ikfo5fiop.—" Woman, begone! If you dare
ask me for money again, I will forfeit you £10."t
Owenson, it will be remembered, had formed a part-
nership with Ryder. It is not very likely that this
connection had the efl'ect of increasing the pecuninary
means of our quondam land-steward, or that old Mr.
Hill rejoiced in it as an eligible investment. Owenson
now tried his fortune at commercial speculations, and
became a wine merchant;! but he soon got tired of
this plodding craft, and abandoned sherry for Sheri-
dan, and rum for Rowe. Mr. Donaldson, in his
recently published, " Fifty years of an Actor's Life,"
tells us that " Owenson on the occasion of a benefit,
selected the ' Beggar's Opera,' and personated Polly
Peachum. Capt. Macheath, was represented by a lady
* Recollections of John O'Keefe, v. i. p. 158.
t Autobiography of Tate Wilkinson, Dublin, 1791, v. ii. p.
211-12.
X London and Dublin Magazine, for January 1826;
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LITEEARY AND PERSONAL. 29
of very short, stature, and as Owenson was six feet
one, ' he looked a mile in length, and she like a mile*
stone/ In the business of the piece, when the Captain
kisses his darling Polly, it was obliged to be reversed.
Instead of the Captain saluting her, Owenson as
Miss Peachum, lifted up the bold outlaw, and gave
such a smack as made the theatre ring again with
laughter and applause/'
Mr. Donaldson seems to think that this trans-
position of the sexes was a freak or whimsey
adopted by Owenson in the exuberance of a benefit
night. The idea was not Owenson^s nor the play
Gay^s properly so called. In^the "Memoirs of John
Banister,^^ We are told that the paramount whim and
captivating absurdity of the dramatic season of 1781,
was the "Beggar^s Opera Travestie,'^ with aU the
characters metamorphosed. This folly was intro-
duced by a prehide which tendered a grave apology
to the audience for a delay in beginning the perform-
ance as Polly was only half shaved. The entire
proceeding was marked by a coarseness which, at the
present day, would not be tolerated for a moment.
"We learn, for example, that a point which never
failed to tell, was when Mrs. Peachum swinging too
heedlessly on her chair, exhibited a pair of black
plush breeches under her petticoats. That the entire
play was a monstrous burlesque on Ga/s opera is
proved by the mere fact of assigning to a man of
Gwenson^s immense muscular frame, the part of
Polly who, as a gentle, confiding, and affectionate
girl, in the midst of a crew of dissolute ruffians, was
obviously intended by Gay to enlist the sympathies
and interest of the audience. Owenson^s dress in
the character of Polly, was a tightly laced dress of
muslin, with a capacious hoop. The depth of his
Caliban roar when Peachum pinches his daughter to
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so LADT HOBGAN^ H£B OABEISR,
make her confess^ was hardly less ludicrous in its
effect than when singing, " Fondly let me loll/' he
hardly knew on what part of Captain MacheatVs di-
minutive person to accommodate himself. In 1793,
as we are reminded by Michael Kelly in his ** Bemi-
niscences/' the Irish Government prohibited the
Beggar's Opera from being acted.
In a little poem entitled " Retrospection/' printed
sixty years ago. Miss Owenson has furnished us with
a glimpse of that home wherein her infant years were
passed, Owenson's was a happy circle until chilled by
death and poverty.
Oft does my memory sketch the social group.
At clo'sing eve, that circled round the fire ;
Sweet hour that fondly knits each/haraan tie,
Unites the children, mother, friend, and sire !
Full oft the legendary tale went round,
Historic truth, or Car'lan's heart-felt song ;
For though hut little understood, I ween
We loT'd the music of our Dative tongue !
And oft went round the puzzling, forfeit game,
Play*d with nice art, and many a sportive jest ;
Bepeated oft — yet sure to win a laugh,
For those we longest know, we lov'd the hest !
Dear happy group, and e'en as happy good,
While guileless spirits from each other torn I
Why has the world unclasp'd thy sbcial bond,
And left i&y heart its fond hope's wreck to mourn ?
Thus calmly flows some pure, expansive stream,
Pell^cid, clear, while o'er its surface plays
The soften'd shade of each o'er-drooping plant,
The moon's pale beam, or sun's meridian rays !
But lo ! should earth's convulsive struggles throw
Th' impending rock in scattered masses o'er,
'Tis forced to disunite in sep'rate streams,
Dwindles t^ viewless rills, and 's seen no more !
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XJTBRARY AND PERSONAL. 81
About the year 1782, Owenson was engaged by
Daly, under whose direction he continued to perform
until 1785, when they quarrelled and separated. It
would be tedious to trace Owenson through every
part during this interval. In the year 1784, we find
him at Smock Alley Theatre, performing such charac-
ters as Murtagh MuUowney, in a then popular
pantomimic entertainment ; Cacafogo, in " fiule
a Wife, and have a Wife/* and the Undertaker,
in O'Keefe's opera of "The Dead Alive." Daly
and Ryder, by both acting on the same boards, at
this period, and thus consolidating their strength,
rendered Smock Alley a place of great fame and
popularity.
Ilichard Daly was a Galway gentleman of good
family. He received his education in Trinity College,
Dublin, and with a view to the Bar became a Tem-
plar. "He had^he greatest predilection for single
combat,** says Harrington, "of any person I ever
recollect. He had fought sixteen duels in the space
of two years — three with swords, and thirteen with
pistols/* Having challenged Sir Jonah Barrington
to deadly combat, Daly appeared on the ground
dressed in a pea green coat, a large tucker with a
diamond brooch, a three cocked hat with a gold
button-loop and tassels, silk stockings, and a couteau
de chasse dangling from his thigh.
Eyder, originally a printer, survived until 1791,
when we find his death announced with great sorrow
by the "Dublin Chronicle.** This event took place
at Sandymount, near Dublin, on November 26th.
That Byder*s brilliant theatric reputation was ,not
merely local is obvious from the cluster of compli-
mentary paragraphs which appeared in the English
Press. " No man/* observes the ' Gentleman*s Ma-
gazine* of the day, "no man understood human
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32 LADY MOBGAN^ UE& CABEI|^^
nature better : this was his cue in the delineation of
human character. More versatihty of genius seldom
fell to any man. He could sustain with credit every
situation of the drama. Whether the strings of the
heart were by sympathy to flush the face with plea-
sure, or to contort with grief — whether the frank
lover, or the artful hypocrite was to appear, whether
the soul was to melt into pathos, or to kindle in
hilarity, he was all in all/' Ryder is buried in the
churchyard of Drumcondra, within a stone's throw of
the old school-house in which Sydney Owenson was
educated. A large concourse of persons accom-
panied his remains to the grave.
The site of the once famous Smock Alley Theatre,
is now occupied by the Roman Catholic Church of
SS. Michael and John, Most of the stones used in
the latter erection were those of the old theatre.
The altar of expiation stands on the site of that
stage which so often exhibited inflammatory scenes of
licentiousness, and the pit of. the theatre is now a
gloomy vault filled with mouldering dead !
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UTEBAST AND FESSONAL. 33
CHAPTER II.
Owenson on the staff of Mrs. Billington's admirers. — Her history.
— Smock Alley Theatre. — Owenson a Manager. — '" The Musick
Hall in Fishamhle Street." — Reconciliation with Daly. — Birth
of Olivia Owenson. — Cnmherland and his Major 0*Flaherty. —
Owenson's patronage of Dermody. — His History. — Sydney
Owenson alleged to have heen on the stage. — Sent to School.
— ^Death of Mrs. Owenson. — Sydney's Lines to her mother's
memory. — A Model "Widower. — Owenson threatens to throw
an arm full of Ensigns out of window. — Friar Tuck, Counsellor
Flummery, Sergeant Jack, and Captain O'Cutter.^George
Colman. — The Sham Squire. — Owenson hires the Derry play-
house. — Peep o* Day Boys. — Connaught. — ^The Duke of Wel-
lington flogged. — Samuel Whyte. — A Cork audience. — Letter
from Miss Owenson to her father. — ^A sudden- death.
Wb have said that Owenson^ after his theatrical
losses at Smock Alley, continued but for a short time
only to devote his thought and time to the mercantile
pursuits in which he had been urged by his friends
to embark. The same stage-struck restlessness that
had characterised his stewardship at Castle Margaret
again distracted Owenson's mind, and rendered him
utterly unfit for business. It may well be imagined
that this theatrical passion was not weakened by an
imprudent connection which he had formed with an
actress of great beauty and celebrity, who had just
made her debut upon the Dublin boards.*
* In the sketch of Lady Morgan (attributed to Sir Charles)
and published in the 'London ana Dublin Magazine' for 1826,
D
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34 ^ LADT MORGAN, HEE CABEEE,
The name of the lady was not mentioned in the
first edition of this work, but a leading literary
organ,"**" having, in a kind critical notice of it, ex-
pressed some curiosity on the subject, I may ob-
serve, on the authority of J. "W. Cole, Esq., formerly
lessee of the Theatre Royal, Dublin, that "the ac-
tress of celebrity '' was no other than Mrs. Elizabeth
Billington, nee Weichsell— a fact which my obliging
informant heard from Lady Morgan herself. At an
early age, she had become the pupil, and soon after
the wife of a composer and performer on the double
bass, named Billington, whom she accompanied to
Dublin where her debut was made, says the Thespian
Dictionary, "in the opera of 'Orpheus and Euii-
dice/;^
This, however, was not Mrs. Billington's first ap-
pearance. By referring to the papers of the day, it
may be found that on Eebruary 13th, 1784, she sung
" By particular desire, and for that night only, the
song of ^ Sweet Echo,^ accompanied on the violin by
Master Weichsell, conductor of the band.^^ On
March 4th, 1784, "His Majesty^s Servants** per-
formed at Smock Alley " Orpheus and Euridice, iii
imitation of the ancient Greek Theatrical Eeasts —
The Shade of a Departed Hero — Mr. Owenson ;
Euridice— Mrs. Billington, her third appearance
in this kingdom.**
" The Shade of a Departed Hero,** would seem to
have made a very prompt and fatal impression upon
the heart and principles of Mrs. Billington. Ere
the newly married couple had been three weeks in
Dublin, circumstances transpired which led to a
complete rupture between them. In "raulkner*s
Owenson's "imprudent connection "with a once beautiful and
celebrated actress," is incidentally alluded to.
* '» Athenaeum," September 10 1859.
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L1TSEA£T AND PEBSONAL. ' 35
DabUn Journal'' of March 9tb, 1784, we read'the
following manifesto : •
" A Caution to the Public, — Notice is hereby given
to all persons not to credit or trust Elizabeth Bil-
lington (formerly Weichsell) the wife of me, James
Biliington, as I am determined not to pay any debts
she may contract on any account whatever ; witness
my hand, Dublin, March 4th, 1784. — James Bil-
LINGTON."
Immediately after, the names of Owenson and
Mrs. Billington disappear from the theatrical an-
nouncements of Dublin, and for many months are
not again recognized.
The Dublin people have always enjoyed much
reputation as theatrical judges ; and managers gene-
rally consider that any performer who becomes a
favourite in Ireland, may be safely engaged for the
amusement of a London audience. The musical
proficiency of Mrs. Billington had been at once
recognized with enthusiasm. She proceeded to
Covent Garden Theatre, and executed her part with
such unparalleled success, that the Patentee offered
her an engagement at the salary of £1,00Q, and
a benefit, for the remainder of the season. From
this period until 1793, no manager ever dreamt
of inviting the public to any musical entertainment
without previously securing the services of Mrs.
Billington. In the last named year she visited
Italy, and astounded and fascinated even the Italians.
Bianchi expressly composed for her his celebrated
opera " Inez de Castro.^^ Her success was startling.
Imitated with industry by minor vocalists, and
envied with malignity by others, Mrs. Billington
was worshipped with enthusiasm by many, and ad-
mired by all. In the midst of this joyous intoxi-
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36 LADT MOEQAN^ HEB CAREER^
catfen, her husband, to whom she had been par-
tially reconciled, dropped dead. Mrs. • Billington
left Naples and repaired to Rom.e,* and in 1799
entered the hymeneal pale a second time by her
marriage with M. Felisent. Her matchless powers
were now in their meridian. She returned to Lon-
don, astonished the entire musical world, appeared
before the Royal family, and continued to reign
supreme and alone until her retirement in 1809.
Felisent, however, squandered all his wife's earnings,
and treated her with such brutality, that she died
from the effects of a blow which he gave her.
Owenson preceded her by a short time to the
tomb. Michael Kelly in his " Reminisciences'* speaks
of Mrs. Billington as "an angel in beauty, and the
St. Cecilia of Song.''
In 1785 Owenson quarrelled with Richard Daly,t
the high-flying lessee of the Theatre Royal, Dublin.
Hard words were interchanged, and Owenson, full
of revengeful pique, vowed that he would ruin Daly
by an opposition house. The Music Hall in Fish-
amble Street happened to be in the market.J
Owenson applied for a license to the Right Hon.
James Horan, Lord Mayor of Dublin, who unhesi-
tatingly granted the requisite warrant; and Fish-
amble Street Theatre was accordingly opened. It
* The following curious paragraph in * Faulkner's Dublin Jour-
nal/ September 18, 1794, proves that the Episcopal Bench of
that day and Mrs. BillingtonV moral character were not sant
- reproche. *' The widow Billington is returning to England in the
suite of a travelling Bishop ; she is said to have laid aside her
weeds in compliment to this prelate's refined tastej who likes
nothing that smacks of sackcloth and ashes."
t Thespian Dictionary, 1805.
X In 'Faulkner's Journal' of April 27, 1784, "those great
concerns in Fishamble Street, called the Musick Hall, part of
the estate of R. Byrne, Esq.," are advertised.
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LITERARY AND PERSONAL. 87
had even then passed through many vicissitudes.
In 1741 Handel dehghted the Dublin people within
the walls of "the new Musick Hall/' and Mas-
querades, Dr. Arae's vocalists, Roman Catholic meet-
ings, Kidotto balls, Irish State lotteries. Conjuror's
feats, and Walker's Lectures on Pronunciation had
contributed until 1785 to render Fishamble Street
a centre of attraction. Owenson went to some ex-
pense in preparing "new scenery, dresses, and
decorations:" but his reign as manager lasted for
merely one season. Daly, whose exclusive patent
was then pending, made ample advances to a re-
conciliation with Owenson, and apprehensive lest
he should make interest against the coveted licence,
Daly offered him a re- engagement on advantageous
terms, with the situation of acting manager.* The
proposal was accepted, and as Owenson had now
become an established favourite, the lessee had no
cause to repeijt his liberality.
During Owenson's managerial reign in Fishamble
Street, his daughter, Olivia, subsequently Lady Clarke,
made her appearance— but not upon the stage She
was therefore Lady Morgan's junior by ten years. A
son who died young had been previously born. To
these companions of her early days Sydney Owenson
alludes in a juvenile poem printed sixty years ago.
Hungry critics will not fail to sei^e eagerly
on " the oaten cake or new-laid egg ;" but it must
be remembered, in extenuation, that the authoress
was yet in her teens, and that the beauties of her
youthful essay more than counterbalance its defects.
I sought the hawthorn tree, heneath whose shade,
Fun oft I passM my truant hours gay,
The spot where once it hlooniM I quickly found,
The tree itself had droop'd into decay !
* Thespian Dictionary, 1805.
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38 LADY MOEGAN, HEE CAREEK,
I sought the cot, near my parental home.
Where oft I stole the warlock tale to hear,
To feast on oaten cake or new laid eggt
I found the place ; ^-alas ! no cot was there ;
And you, ye treasnr'd objects of my heart ;
Dear, lov'd companions of my early days,
"With whom I ran my life's first frolic course,
Mingled my smiles, and sung my untaught lays !
Oft on a stream that wound its trickling way,
I well remember, near our lov'd abode,
We venturous launchM our barks of paper built.
Freighted with ciirrants red, (delicious load.)
And as (true emblem of our careless days.
Gliding life's stream) we eager bent our eyes.
On passing ship, for theirs who swiftest sail'd,
Claim'd both the fleet and fruit, a glorious prize !
Full various were our sports, yet not in sports
Alone, pass'd on the tenor of our days ;
To romps succeeded oft th' instructive page.
And even wisdom mingled with our plays I
Owenson^s popularity daily strengthened. He
pourtrayed with credit a number of new characters,
including that of Corporal Casey; but Sir Lucius
O'Trigger and Major OT^aherty seem to have been
his most successflil conceptions. John O^Keefe has
recorded a very favourable impression of Owenson
in the latter part: *'His unrivalled representation
of Irish character/' observes a newspaper writer in
1812,* "still lives in the memory of many. When
Mr. Cumberland saw him in his own Major OTla-
herty, he said ' he had beyond any other person
realized his idea of a fine Irish gentleman.' " Another
source has it that Cumberland "was in ecstacies
at Owenson's acting; and when at length, the cur-
tain fell, he bemoaned, almost with tears, that he
* * Freeman's Journal,' May 28th, 1812.
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LITERAEY AND PERSONAL. 89
had not given the Major more to do and say/*
Donaldson, speaking truthfully, but more tranquilly,
of Owenson's " Major (7 Flaherty " says that it was
"a rich specimen of the Irish officer of the old
school — witty, bold, and chivalrous/'* " The West
Indian '* became an immense favourite in Dublin.
''The public was charmed with a piece,'' observes
a Dublin writer in 1794, " which, with uncommon
merit, presented so amiable a portrait of an Irish
gentleman, and in Major O'Flaherty, united the
brave veteran soldier, with the man of feeling, whose
heart was replete with the noblest impulses of hu-
manity /'t
But perhaps that which reflects the highest honour
on the memory of Robert Owenson, is the generous
and uncalculating protection and patronage which he
afforded the unfortunate young poet, Dermody, the
Chatterton of Ireland. An account of this more than
kind conduct on the part of Owenson runs, strag-
glingly, through a memoir of Dermody, in two vo-
lumes, written by the late James Grant Raymond in
1806. This somewhat difl'use narrative, we shall
endeavour, in justice to Owenson's memory, to con-
dense.
" While Dermody was thus employed in the
painting-room, as superintendent of the glue, oil, and
colour-pots," writes his biographer, "Mr. Cherry
with great rapture brought one morning into the green-
room a poem written, as he said, by a most surpris-
ing boy then in the house. The subject of it was
highly entertaining to the performers, being a sarcas-
tic comparison between Mr. Daly, patentee of the
Theatre Royal, and Mr. Astley, manager of the Eques-
trian theatre. The description which Mr. Cherry
* Donaldson's *' Fifty Years of an Actor's Life." Part I.
t Hitchcock's " View of the Irish Stage," v. ii p. 186.
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40 LADY MORGAN, HER CAREER,
gave of the boy, together with the merit of the com-
position, raised among the performers the greatest
curiosity to see him ; and, led on by Cherry, they
rushed from the green-room to the place where the
painter and his wonderful attendant were at work. If
their astonishment was excited on hearing the poem
read, it was now increased tenfold at the sight of the
author. Infantine in appearance, and clad in the
very garb of wretchedness; with a meagre, half-
starved, but intelligent countenance ; a coat much too
large for him, and his shoulders and arms seen naked
through it; without waistcoat, shirt, or stockings;
Tidth a pair of breeches made for a full-grown person,
soiled and ragged, reaching to his ancles ; his un-
covered toes thrust through .a pair of old slippers
without heels, almost of the magnitude of Kamts-
katka snow-shoes ; his hair clotted with glue, and his
face and almost naked body smeared and disfigured
with paint of different colours, black, blue, red, green,
and yellow : — thus in amazement stood before them,
with a small pot of size in one hand, and a hair-
brush in the other, the translator of Horace, Virgil,
and Anacreon ! Each of the performers felt a sym-
pathetic glow of tenderness for the wretched boy, and
each seemed anxious to administer to his neces-
sities. Among the number was Mr. Owehson ; a
gentleman conspicuous for his domestic attach-
ments, and distinguished by his humanity. In
him Dermody found a benefactor; he treated
him with tenderness, received him into his family
with affection, clothed, and became a second parent
to him.
"At the appointed time, Dermody made his
appearance at the house of his new friend. The
description which Mrs. Owenson had received of him
from her husband, raised in h^r mind the greatest
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LITEEARY AND PERSONAL. > 41
anxiety ; and, being a lady of extreme feeling and
sensibility, on seeing before her a child so forlorn
and destitute, she burst into a flood of tears, clasped
him in her arms, and gave vient to the noblest feel-
ings of humanity. "When he had partaken of some
refreshment, which was pressed upon him with the
warmest cordiality, Mr. Owenson asked him if he had
any knowledge of the history of the college, or of its
members. He answered, that the only information
he had ever received, was that which magazines had
occasionally given him. As Mr. Owenson's plan was
to get him introduced to some distinguished person
in the University, he thought that a theme on the
subject would be a probable mode of paving the way
to so desirable an object : he therefore gave him a
slight account of it, and desired him to write down
his thoughts in verse, and to notice the professors
and students of the present day. Dermody took
his leave ; and in less than three quarters of an hour
returned with about fifty lines, written as if he had
been acquainted with the history of the university
since its foundation was laid. Mr. Owenson was so
•much astonished at what he had done in the short
time of his absence, that he began to doubt the pos-
sibility of his having been without some secret assise
tance from more matured talent ; and lest he him-
self should be imposed upon, and laughed at for his
credulity, he immediately carried pen, ink, and paper,
into an adjoining room, gave him another subjefct to
write upon, closed the door, and with impatience
waited the result. In twenty minutes he re-entered
and produced a poem that would have made any
further disbelief in his genius a crime. Mr. Owen-
son, being now fully convinced that he was in every
respect what he had been represented to be, with all
the reality of friendship and the ardour of hunianity.
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42 LADY HOBOAK^ HER OABEEB^
put in force the plan of getting him an immediate
iutroduction to the college/^ So far Mr. Ray-
mond.
Owenson^s generous interest in the boy increased,
and through the instrumentality of his kinsman, the
Eev. Dr. Young, afterwards bishop of Clontert, he
laboured with success in getting Dermody admission
to the University of Dublin. Dr. Young, who was a
Senior Fellow and Professor in the college, undertook
to superintend the young poet^s studies.
" Though the prospect was flattering,'^ continues
Mr. Baymond, " which now opened for Dermody's
future comfort and pursuits, Mr. Owenson's zeal was
still unabated; and he carried and introduced him in
the same garments to many of the most exalted cha-
racters in Dublin. His reception was uniformly such
as humanity could wish. Mr. Owenson always intro-
duced him in rags, that his appearance might excite
both wonder and compassion. The general plan
which he adopted when the ceremony of introduction
was over (which sometimes created much mirth) was,
to ask for a Horace ; and desire the gentleman of the
house either to open the book and take an ode by
chance, or to fix on any particular one, and then in
the presence of the company he made Dermody
translate it into English verse ; which he always did
with a peculiar grace, and in as short a time as any
person could construe it in. When Mr. Owenson
had fully satisfied their curiosity and gratified the
feelings of the company, he generally left them, in
order that at a future time he might have a claim on
their generosity.
" He now fitted up* an apartment for him in bis
own house, stripped him of his rags, made him the
companion of his children, and treated him with all
the endearing affection of a father. He had just lost
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LITEEAEY AND PERSONAL. 48
his only son, and he considei:ed this as a substitute
sent by Providence. Mrs. Oweuson, who loved
genius under whatever form it presented itself, and
united to this intellectual propensity a benevolence
the most unbounded, entered with the fondest sohci-
tude into the interest of the child of her adoption,
and taught her two amiable daughters to consider
him almost as a being of a superior order. Her
injunction was at all times held too sacred to be dis-
obeyed ; but in the present case indeed it was unne-
cessary ; from their mother they inherited the tender
throb of sensibility, and light and pleasant as the day
was the task they had now to perform.
'^ As soon as a new wardrobe was prepared for
Dermody, he made a burnt-offering of his old, and
committed his former habiliments to the flames
with classic solemnity; creating his new sisters
high-priestesses of the altar, and their mother the
presiding idol of the ceremony. While he stood in
silence viewing the flames, his conscience appeared to
strike him ; and with a want of refined delicacy which
his youth rendered innocent and perfectly excusable
even before such spectators, eagerly snatching his
breeches from the general conflagration, he thus
apostrophized them.''
But the poem, which is below Dermody's average
power, the reader will readily excuse us for withold-
In eccentricity of movement, mental and bodily,
and in tendency to laziness, Dermody was " every
inch a poet ;" and Mr. Owenson soon discovered, to
his no small chagrin, that the bard's attendance at
college had been most capriciously irregular. When-
ever he paid Dr. Young a visit, it was to discharge a
flood of tears at the scholastic drudgery which had
been opened, by special favour, to him ; and to be-
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44? LADY MORGAN, HEE CAREER,
wail the loss of these caresses which he once enjoyed
in the arms of the muses. *' As often as possible/^
writes Mr. Raymond, *' he would sculk from what he
called torture, and spend his hours playing with his
adopted sisters, or in writing sonnets appropriate to
the familiar incidents of their happy home/' Although
Dr. Young possessed a poet's cognomen he had
neither bardic taste nor talent ; and Dermody, as may
be supposed, soon fell into dire disgrace at Alma
Mater.
Mr. Owenson's intentions to serve Dermody did
not stop here^i He introduced the boy to -the Eev.
Gilbert Austin, a clergyman of great worth and learn-
ing who at that time kept a school of deservedly high
repute in Dublin. Mr. Austin entered earnestly into
the matter, and a plan was immediately adopted for
the completion of his studies. Dermody continued
for some time to attend the academy ; but he mani-
fested greater regularity in seeking his meals, and bed
at the house of his benefactor, than in penetrating
the depths of Murray's Logic, or unravelling the
mysteries of the Greek Lexicon.
Not long subsequent to this date we find Dermody
thus addressing Mr. Owenson.
Long has my muse, devoid of wonted fire,
Her song neglected, and unstrung her lyre ;
Too long, alas ! has felt the iron hand
Of dire affliction : — but at thy command
Again she tunes her strain ; again she tries
On feehle pinion eagerly to rise ;
Again the bard renews his ancient lays,
And humbly dares attempt to sing thy praise ;
Praise ^hich, though void of ev'ry grace of art.
Yet flows unstudied from a grateful heart ;
For though no flatt'ry decks my servile line,
Yet truth superior makes thy fame divine.
I say hut that which modesty might hear,
Yet unabashed confess these lines sincere.
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LITERABY AND PEESONAL. 45
This eflFasion, however, by no means conveys an
adequate idea of Dennody^s ordinary poetic power.
*' His adopted sisters/' continues Mr. Raymond,
" in whose society he passed so many happy hours,
were too affectionately regarded not to receive fre-
quent tender marks of his esteem ; and in the inno-
cent play-mate they found the kind admonisher.
• Dear giris, in youth and beauty's prime
Despise not friendship's grayer rhyme ;
Friendship, that marks your early bloom
Perfection's brightest tints assume.
The tints of modest worth divine,
When sense and harmless wit combine,
Prompt each low passion to control.
Or bind in rosy chains the soul.
Oh, ever charming ! let not Pride, \
Usurper bold, your breasts divide, J
Nor fashion beauteous nature bide ; )
Assur'd your soft eyes' radiant hue
Can heal, disturb, and conquer too ;
Oh I let not Affectation, queen
Of the nice lisp, the mincing mien.
And studied glance, obscure their rays, -
Blighting the bloomy wreath of praise.
Tet, sure, this idly moral strain
Is both presumptuous and vain ;
For well your tender hearts I know ;
Hearts formed to melt at every woe, &c
The unfortunate young poet was not long in fall-
ing into as high disfavour with Mr. Austin as he had
previously done with Dr. Young. Some practical
Anacreontic tendencies aroused the virtuous ire of the
clergyman. He quarrelled with Dermody ; ordered
him to perform some menial oflBces ; and the poet
retaliated by writing a very caustic lampoon on hs
preceptor. Mr. Austin had previously shewn him
man; solid acts of kindness; but all intimacy was
now irrevocably at an end, and the frail bard was for-
bidden Mr. Austin^s house for ever. " Mr. Owen-
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46 LADY HOBOAN^ HEB CABEBB,
son/^ says Dennody^s biographer, "was not one of
these stern and relentless moralists, who, for a few
youthful irregularities, would abandon the object of his
care to perpetual distress. He grieved at the cause
which obliged Mr. Austin to withdraw his protection ;
but at the same time he had the tenderness not to
suffer the late object of it to be driven forth an out-
cast, to despair and perish/' He accordingly intro-
duced Dermody to Mr. Atkinson, Judge Advocate of
Ireland, through whom the poor boy-poet was pa-
tronised and almost adopted by Lady Moira. But
even this great patroness of literature became, even-
tually, disgusted with Dermody, who had now fallen
into habits of intemperance and levity. He sank
from bad to worse until, at last, death seemed a happy
release to his misery.
In this deplorable state Dermody remained for a
considerable time, and were it not for his tried and
steady friend, Egbert Owenson, by whose interest he
was enabled to publish a volume of poems, he would
probably have perished for want of bread. So as-
siduous was Owenson in his exertions to make the
publication profitable, that he frequently took his
stand in an eminent bookseller's shop, and not only
offered the book for sale to the persons who entered,
with an introductory sketch of the doleful history of
the luckless bard, but absolutely accosted the passen-
gers who passed the door. The biographer of Der-
mody assures us that Mr. Owenson " was very gener- .
ally known and respected, and he was rarely unsuc-
cessful in these applications/' Owenson thus pro-
cured him considerable relief. Nor were Dermod/s
personal applications to the good-natured actor less
productive. That his situation was often as pitiable
as his benefactor's liberality was praiseworthy is
evident. Writing to Owenson he says i'— " Your
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LITERARY AND PERSONAL. 47
bounty to me has been like the Ocean, boundless
and illimitable. From my appearance I am almost
ashamed to call upon you. I shall only say that I
have fasted for a longer time than caused the death
of Chatterton/^* To which Owen son replied :
'^Accept the enclosed; and while so poor a man
as myself can purchase a loaf you shall never want a
share of it, in common with my dear girls. In
answer to your former note call at Mr. Dixon^s,
corner of Crow Street, and by my desire he will give
you three pair of stockings : it will be time enough
to get some of that commodity when you enter the
College, if ever you should have grace enough to
accomplish so desired an object. Get them of such
a kind as will be useful, not fashionable. Call at
Rourk^s and you will get a pair of shoes. I think
you want them"
Owenson^s kindness to Dermody brought its own
recompense. Sydney, in a copy of verses entitled
*' Eetrospection,^^ which she threw off in the year
1800, thus refers to her juvenile friend.
And you my sometime brother, o'er whose birth
Genius presided ! wit new strung his lyre ;
The muse her future bard to slumbers sung,
And e'en his lisping numbers did inspire !
Thou form'd my infant taste, and from thy lips,
My mind imbib'd th' enthusiastic glow ;
The love of literature, which thro' my life
HeightenM each bliss, and softened every woe !
* John Francis Waller, who, whether in song or story is always
true and sparkling, writes : " Dermody must be ranked amongst
the greatest geniuses. His early poems are superior in fancy,
sentiment, and nature, to those written by Pope or Cowley at a
more advanced age ; and it is impossible to read his prose essays
without being impressed with the purity and elegance of his style,
the sobriety and sound judgment of his criticisms, the correctness
of his taste, and the extent of his erudition."
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48 LADY MORGAN^ H£B OABEEB,
In the first edition of this work, it was inciden-
tally mentioned that Lady Morgan in her very early
life had performed for some time with her father
upon the boards ; but no authorities were produced
for the assertion, beyond a passing reminiscence ex-
pressed by the late Dr. Burke of the Eifle Brigade.
" 1 well remember/^ said that gentleman, '* the plea-
sure with which I saw Owenson personate Major
(^Flaherty in Cumberland's then highly popular
Comedy of the * West Indian/ and I also wdl re-
member that the long- afterwards widely-famed Lady
Morgan performed at the same time, with her father,
either in the ' West Indian ' or an afterpiece. This
took place at Castlebar before the merry, convivial
Lord Tyrawley and the oflBcers of the North Mayo
militia.^' >
"Miss Owenson/' observed a high literary au-
thority, '^ may have performed in private theatricals
at Castlebar, before ^ the convivial Lord Tyrawley,'
without being a member of any dramatic company,
and without playing on any public stage. A ge-
nuine biographical charm attaches to the inquiry, and
Mr. Eitzpatrick should pursue it. Lady Morgan
had a most happy genius for stage mimicry and cha-
racterization, was most passionately attached to pri-
vate theatricals ; and it would be curious to know
whether she had ever displayed this genius on the
real stage.''^
* " Athenaeum," September 10, 1859.--If any Private Theatrical
exhibition took place at Castlebar, before Lord Tyrawley, there is
no mention of it in the valuable work entitled *» The Private
Theatre at Kilkenny, and other Private Theatres in Ireland," of
which fifty copies only were printed, in 1825. The list begins
with a notice of the theatrical performances at Mr. Brownlow's
of Lurgan in 1759, and Mr. Conolly's of Castletown, in the fol-
lowing year. In 1761, Lord Kildare opened Carton to a series of
similar entertainments. In 1774, plays were got up at Knock-
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LITEEAIIY AND PERSONAL* 4-9
There are very few persons now living, competent
to furnish any personal information on this point.
All we can do is to collect a few waifs and strays,
and let the reader draw his own conclusion. An oc-
togenarian player, Mr. W. A Donaldson, in his re-
cently published " Fifty Years of an Actor's Life,''
tells us, " Lady Morgan is the oldest writer in Great
Britain. This highly gifted woman begun her career
in the dramatic world. Her father w^au the manager
of several theatres in Ireland, where she sustained
characters suited to her juvenile years, with consider-
able ability, but when her father ceased management,
her ladyship devoted her attention to literature." To
this evidence it may be added, that one of L'eland^s
most distinguished Celtic scholars, was assured by
the late Dean Lyons of Erris, by the late Thaddeus
Connellan, Itinerant Preacher in Connaught, and by
the late Mr. Nolan clerk of the Ordnance at Athlone,
that they had seen Owenson and his little daughter, act
at Sligo and elsewhere, throughout Connaught. But
in recording these reminiscences, it is right to add
topher, Ftfrmley, and Kilfane, the seats of Sir H. Langrish, Henry
Flood, and Gervais Parker Bushe. Grattan acted the part of
Macbeth, on one of these occasions, and his great rival Flood that
of Macduff. .In 1776, the Right Hon. David La Touche, pro-
duced a theatrical fete at Marlay. Shane's Castle, Co. Antrim, the
seat of Mr. afterwards Lord O'Neill, became the scepe of theatric
festivities in 1785. Lord Mountjoy opened a private theatre in
1778. The Countess of Ely, in 1786, and again in 1789, pro-
duced a series of dramatic entertainments known as " The Attic
Theatre," at Ely Place Dublin. In 1787, " The Shane's Castle
Association," got up a very beautiful little theatre in Shaw's
Court, Dublin, the site of which is now occupied by the Commer-
cial Buildings. Lord and Lady Grandison duiing the same year,
indulged their friends with a few plays at«Dromara, County of
Waterford. In 1793 Fishamble Street Theatre, was taken by a
company of noblemen and gentlemen, and in 1795, French plays
were performed at Eoebuck Casile, the seat of Lord Trimbleston.
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50 LADY MOROAK^ HER CAREER^
that the impression of Lady Morgan^s nieces is that
she, at no period, app^red on the stage.
The result of a lew substantial benefits at Smock
Alley enabled Owenson to hire successively some of
the provincial theatres in Ireland. Accompanied by
a small but select company he went the round of
them in 1785. Early personal and local associa-
tions led him to give the preference of selection to
the province of Connaught.
A distinguished member of the Eoyal Hibernian
Academy, and a native of the west of Ireland, tells
me that he often heard his late father describe the
colossal form of Owenson as he wound his way, with
some theatrical dresses on one arm, and his tiny
dalighter Sydney supported on the other — down
Market Street, Sligo, en route to the little theatre
adjacent. This interesting incident probably oc-
curred about the year 1788. Mrs. Owenson must
have been dead at that time. It is at least certain
that the good lady was not living in 1789.* She
remained quite long enough, however, to leave an
indelible impression on the mind of little Sydney,
and to endear her memory, in a peculiar manner, to
the children. In some lines on her ^^ Birth Day/^
written about the year 1798, Sydney refers to
" The cheap, the guileless joys of youthful hours,
The strengthening intellect's expanding powers ;
The doating glance of fond maternal eyes,
The soft endearment of life's earliest ties:
The anxious warning that so often glow'd
On these dear lips, whence truth and fondness flowed.
Those lips that ne'er the stern command impos'd,
These thrice dear lips — for ever, ever closed !
The result of much inquiry on the subject has
convinced us that Sydney Owenson never performed
* Raymond's Life of Dermody, v. i. p. 106.
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LITERAET AND PBESONAL. 51
at any of the Dublin Theatres, but may have ap-
peared, when a mere child, in connectiou with some
of her father's professional tours through the wes-
tern counties of Ireland. Owenson always flung
himself into theatricals with hearty raciness and
abandon; but -the more he saw of stage life, its
temptations, dangers, and anxieties, the stronger
grew his disinclination to see any near and dear rela-
tive of his treading the boards.
Greatly to Owenson's credit, he placed little
Sydney successively at two excellent educational es-
tablishments, one at Drumcondra, and the other near
Qontarf, both in the immediate vicinity of Dublin.
The first was situated opposite Belvidere, the residence
of the late Sir Coghill Coghiil, and has been for many
years used as a Widow's Alms House. Shortly
before Lady Morgan's death, she obtained a photo-
graph of this old building, in fond recollection of
Auld Lang Syne. Whether this was the school
noticed by Seward in his account of Drumcondra,
as having been founded by the late George Purdon
Drew in 1784,* it is not easy to determine. Some
time subsequently, Owenson sent his two little girls
to an eminent boarding school, in the neighbourhood
of Clontarf, of which Madame Tesone, an accom-
plished French lady, was the principal. Here it was
that Miss Owenson acquired that facility and fancy
for French dialogue and phraseology with which her
subsequent writings were extensively interlarded.
Mr. P — of Dublin, now in his eighty-ninth year,
remembers the Miss Owensons at Madanoe Tesone's
school. In 1796,* Owenson opened a theatre in the
ball-room of Mrs. Pye's inn at Bally shannon. "As
he was an animated, lively, and witty gentleman of
* Topographia Hibermca, Dublin, 1795.
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52 LADY MOEGAN, HER CAREER,
good address/^ observes an esteemed correspondent,*
" he had contracted a tolerable intimate acquaintance
in the house of a Mrs. Williams, a near relation of
ours, and living next door to my father's house.
This old lady often had Oweuson and his two daugh-
ters to spend their evenings with her, atid I recollect
often hearing Mrs. Williams discuss the subject that
Owenson always declared that, with his consent, his
daughters should never adopt the stage as a profes-
sion. Owenson, on this visit to Ballyshannon
produced amongst other pieces, ^ The Spoiled Child/
This part was performed by Miss Walstein, who
afterwards attained great celebrity on the .stage."*'
The book which chiefly formed and guided Miss
Owensou's literary taste was the ^ Anthologia Hiber-
nica,' a monthly magazine, started at Dublin in 1793.
It breathed a healthy tone of nationality, and incul-
cated an appreciation of Irish worthies, literature,
archeology, self-reliance and self-respect. In the list
of subscribers to the work the name Miss Owen-
son may be found. It was tlie ' Anthologia Hiber-
nica^ which introduced Moore^s youthful muse to the
public.
Some doubts have been expressed as to the re-
ligious opinions in which Sydney Owenson was reared
and educated. The following passage, however, is
conclusive on the subject. ♦In 1807, she tells
us, in a note to ' The Patriotic Sketches ^ " For myself,
though one among the many in my own country
who have been educated in the most rigid adherence
to the tenets of the Church of England, I should,
like the poor Maritoanes of Cervantes, think myself
endowed with very few 'sketches and shadows of
Christianity,^ were I to confine virtue to sect; or
* Letter from E A , Esq., J. P., Ballyshannon.
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LITEB^EY AND PERSONAL. 55
make the speculative theory of opinion the test of
moral excellence, or proof of human perfection/*
Lady Morgan has been heard to say that her mother
though possessing many endearing domestic virtues,
was a person of such excessive Puritanical tendencies
that instead of stimulating the religious zeal of her
children, she but too fatally gave them a distaste
to long visaged sanctity, and all practises of the
" Praise-God Bare-Bones school/* To this circum-
stance may be attributed the occasional deistic tone
visible in some of the later writings of Lady Morgan.
But let it not be supposed that the authoress .
was wanting in affectionate devotion to her mother^s
memory. In addition to the evidence already adduced,
the following lines from a little piece called "Re-
trospection,** printed in 1801, shews the contrary :
My sainted mother too, methinks I view
Thy endearing smile, my ever sweet reward ;
For each unfolding talent ever gain'd
Thy fond approvings, and thy dear regard.
Even still methinks, soft vibrate in mine ear,
Thy well reraember'd tones, and still I trace
In thy dear eyes, thy fond maternal love.
Catch tby last look, and feel thy last embrace.
The dying wish that hover'd o'er thy lips.
Thy last, last words, soft, trembling, broken, faint.
That my sad breaking heart receiv'd of thine,
And spoke the woman's conquest o'er the saint !
Were these, " dear child of all my tenderest care,
Transfer that duteous love to me you pay'd.
To thy dear sire ; — live but for him," and died ; —
Say blessed spirit, have I disobeyed ?
Owenson tool^ a thoroughly warm interest in his
little girls, and shewed them much more affeclionate.
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54 LADY MOEGAN, HER CAREER,
attention than the generality of players can afford
to do. The late George Stawell of the Munster Bar
in conversing with the gentleman from whom we give
the anecdote, observed: "I lodged, when a young man,
opposite to Mr. Owenson, in Dublin ; and nothing,
even then, struck me more than the regularity with
which the widower, leaving the gaieties of the city be-
hind, would, twice every day, take his little daughters,
Olivia and Sydney, out to walk with him. His heart ap-
peared to be entirely wrapped up in his two girls
whom he used to bring with him, holding one by each
hand, into the country.^'
Many more illustrations might be cited to shew
the activity, strength, and vigilance of Owenson's
parental feeling. He knew the world and its dan-
gers well. An octogenarian resident of Sligo, writing
to the author on November 12th, 1859, observes :
^^When Owenson visited Sligo with his dramatic
company he used to lodge at Mrs. Browne's in
Market Street. The town was then a wondrously
gay place, full of military and militia, theatricals,
balls, and so forth. Owenson was so careful of
his little girls that he would not leave them behind
him in Dublin, although his means were often crippled
enough. The officers who used frequently to have
Owenson at their mess (who was the Ufe and soul
of society) tliought they had nothing to do but call
on the player^s daughters at their lodgings, and,
when sick of billiards, to while away some of their
heavy leisure moments in a flirtation or two. Owen-
son was indignant at this liberty, and I well remem-
ber his saying to the two girls "If ever they call
again, send for me that moment, that I may turn
the idle rascals out.^' As he said this he drew up
his enormous frame to its fullest height, with a
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LITER AEY AND PEHSONAL. 55
flashing eye, and he really looked as though he not
only would, but could, pitch an entire mess-room
of ensigns out of the window in one arm full/'
This anecdote belongs to the year 1795; but
as it helps to illustrate some preceding remarks
we have ventured to anticipate a little.
It is not surprising that Owenson's parental vir-
tues should have tilled the susceptible and appreciative
mind of his daughter with impulses of the most lively
affection and gratitude. Since the sad day when
little Sydney and her still smaller «ister were de-
prived of their poor mother's protection and guidance,
their love, as was only natural, became entwined
around the remaining parent with concentrated in-
tensity.
JProm Sydney's heart and lips this filial feeling
found frequent utterance. A little poem written
by Miss Owenson in her infancy, and suggested by
a portrait of her father, is not without its charms
and beauties : —
Dear shade of him my heart holds more than dear,
Author of aU that fond heart's purest hliss ;
Dear shade, I hail thee with a rapturous tear,
And welcome thee with many a tender kiss !
This hrow indeed is his ; broad, candid, fair,
Where nature's honest characters are wrote ;
But o'er the beauteous transcript, morbid Care
And Time, of late, their ruthless fingers smote ;
And this th* expressive eye, whose glance IVe woo'd,
' (For ah ! beneath that glance each taskiSeemed light ;)
I've seen this eye with tears of fondness dew'd,
And through the lucid radiance beam more bright.
Seen it transfix'd witt sweet, approving gaze.
On some faint strain the youthful muse inspired ;
Seen it for hours pursue the pencil's maze,
With parent pride, and partial fondness fir'd !
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56 LABT MORGAN^ H£B GABBER,
But painter, far above thy wond'rous art
Were these dear lips ; dear lips where ever play'd
The sraile benignant, where the honest heart
In undisgnis'd effusions, careless strayed !
Dear lips where oft each fond endearment glow'd,
Less prompt to emanate reproof than praise ;
Dear lips from whence the anxious counsel flowed.
The moral precepts, or amusive lays.
These shoulders too Tve climbed to steal a kiss,
These locks my infant hands have oft carest ;
These arms I oft have filled, and shared the bliss,
For ah ! wi;h me, these arms a sister prest !
Twin objects of the tenderest father's care,
A mother's lof«s we rather knew than felt ;
Twin objects still of every ardent prayer.
On whom each thought, each fear, each fond hope dwelt !
Come then, thou thrice dear shade, for ah ! no more,
Thou true and lov'd resemblance will we part ;
For till the last faint thrill of life is o'er.
Dear shade, I'll wear thee next my beating heart !
And so she did. A more filially fond heart never
existed ; and to the last day of Lady Morgan's long
life, her father's memory and portrait were venerated
and treasured by her with an ardour and enthusiasm,
as edifying as it was intense.
The striking resemblance which those lines, and
others on her mother — published elsewhere in this
memoir — bear to Cowper's verses on his mother's
picture, cannot fail to have struck the reader. We
not only have the same thought and metre,^but
the same mood and impersonation. It must, how-
ever, be recollected that the infant poetess borrowed
the flowers to adorn her mother's bier, and her
father's brow.
Richard Daly opened the "New Theatre Royal,"
Crow Street, on January I8th, 1788, with a sufficient
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LTTERAEY AND PEESONAL. 57
if not a strong company, of which Robert Owenson
was one. The decorations were of a very gorgeous
cliaracter, as well they might be, for, as an adver-
tisement of the day assures us, " Mr. Daly having
expeoded upwards of £5,000, unassisted by public
aid, or private subscription, will, he trusts, speak
more powerfully than any terras he could find to
express his uniform wish to advance the reputation
of the stage, and merit the patronage of a city
whose national entertainments he has the honour
to conduct. NB. The house will be illuminated
with wax/^*
Owenson^s favourite character at Crow Street,
throughout 1788, seems to have been Friar Tuck
in Leonard Mac Nally^s comic opera of "Robin
Hood." The Marquis of Buckingham, Lord -Lieu-
tenant of Ireland commanded and witnessed the
performance.t
During the previous year Owenson^s performances
were more frequent and varied. His chief parts
seem to have been Zedan in Mrs. Inchbald's " Such
Things Are," Colonel Staff in Leonard Mac Nally^s
comedy of " Fashionable Levities," Counseller Flum-
mery in O'Keefe'a musical interlude of " The Farmer,"
and The Governor in " The Critic."}
On Monday, January 12th, 1789, Owenson played
Oliver in "As you like it;" but did not appear
again at Crow Street during that year, until De-
cember 19th, when he performed Sergeant Jack in
O'Keefe^s comic opera of "The Highland Reel."
This piece brought his lungs into frequent play.
Among other vocal efforts he was obliged to vociferate
Handel's Grand Drum March. The interval of
Owenson's absence from Dublin was no doubt
* Dublin Chronicle, January 17th, 1788.
t Ibid, November 8th, 1788, &c.
t Sleator's Dublin Chronicle for 1787, passim.
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58 LADT MOItGAN, HEB CAEEEB^
spent in a professional tour through the Pro-
vinces. The theatrical advertisements of the
time shew that '' The Highland Reel " and '' Ser-
jeant Jack^' had a considerable run in Dublin.
On Thursday, February ' 18th, 1790, was pro
duced, for the first time, the comic opera of "The
Haunted Tower," in which Owenson sustained the
part of Martin. Mr. P , of Dublin, already
referred to, well remembers the infinite humour
with which Owenson, about^the year 1789, performed
Captain O'Cutter in Colman's comedy of ''The
Jealous Wife." Acting which could leave an im-
pression so deep and enduring must have had
something peculiarly vivid in it. The fact is not
less creditable to Owenson^s fame as a comedian
than to the vigour of our respected informant's
memory. His retentiveness is corroborated by Slea-
tor's 'Dublin Chronicle' of May the 18th, 1790, in
which it is announced that Owenson will on that
evening perform the part of Captain O'Cutter. The
other characters in the piece were sustained by
Palmer, Cherry, and Mrs. Abington. "Owenson's
liberal education, singularly gentleman-like deport-
ment, polished manners, and exquisite humour,''
observes a writer fifty years ago,* " rendered him
a welcome guest at the first tables." Could it have
been to Owenson that George Colman alluded, who,
when he went to see the actors at the Dublin Theatre
perform his own comedy of "The Jealous Wife,"
said that they all spoke with the most determined
brogue except Captain O'Cutter (the only Irish
character in the piece) who gave forth pure and
perfect English throughout the whole of the per-
lormance.t Prom May 18th, 1790, until May 10th,
* * Freeman's Journal,' May 28th, 1812.
t Eeminiscences of Michael Kelly, t. ii. p. 84.
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LITERABY AND PERSONAL. 59
in the following year, when he performed as Sir Lucius
(^Trigger, we find no mention of Owenson's name
in the Dublin play bills. During this interval he was
evidently on duty through the Provinces with his
strolling company.
"Carried away by the tumultuous applause of
the galleries," observes Mr. P , " Owenson was
occasionally induced to burlesque his characters too
much; but he quickly corrected himself and resumed
a tolerably accurate conception of the dramatist's ideal.
He had a simplicity of face when he said ' It is a
very pretty quarrel as it stands/ which was de-
lightful." Another source writes from information
furnished by the Apostle of Lower Connaught. " He
was sometimes so comical looking, and so full of
humour that the very face of him would excite loud
laughter." It has often been said that as a delineator
of the Irish character, Johnstone never had his
equal before or since. Barrington, however, speak-
ing of Johnstone, says that " Nature had not given
him enough of that original shoulder-twist, and what
they call the poteen twang, which so strongly
characterises the genuine vis comica of the lower
orders of the Irish. In this respect Owenson was
superior to him."*
Daly held the patent of the Theatre Koyal, Crow
Street, conjointly with Francis Higgins, surnamed
the Sham Squire, perhaps the most loathsome public
character that had ever figured in Ireland. As we
learn for the first time Irom the recently published
Cornwallis Correspondence, it was Higgins who re-
ceived the Government reward for the betrayal of
Lord Edward Fitzgerald. The Dublin Evening
Post, then the exclusive organ of the popular party,
* Sir Jonah Barrington's Personal Sketches, vol. ii. p. 207.
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60 LADT MOBOAN^ HER CABBES,
poured a perpetual broadside of ridicule on Daly and
Higgins. The Sham Squire edited the Government
newspaper of that day, and Daly seems to have been
vilified on no other grounds than those furnished by
the old adage, '' show me your company and I will
tell you who you are/' In the Dublin Evening Post
of May and June, 1789, we find frequent poetic
pquibs exploding at Daly's expense. One casually
alludes to the mutiny against Daly which Owenson
was sometimes induced to head. Daly's days of pros-
perity were, at this time, numbered :
And is it come to this, at last, he cried,
Gone is the food of all my former pride ;
No more will actors on my steps attend,
Or humble actresses obedient bend.
No more will authors at my levee wait,
No more IMl damn their works in pompous state ;
E'en now perhaps with joys does Chalmers burn,
' And Owenson will kick me in his turn.
* « « *
Yet this shall end my woes and me, he cried.
And drew his glittering weapon from his side;
But as too hard the yielding blade he prest,
The tragic tin bent harmless on his breast.
It is a fact worthy of note, and curiously illustrative
of the lax system of law prevailing in Ireland at the pe-
riod of which we write, that Richard Daly having swore
that in consequence of this Poem he had received
damages to the amount £4000, Lord-Chief- Justice
Clonmel, granted a fiat against the Proprietor of the
Evening Post, marked with that exorbitant amount,
altliough the damages subsequently given by. the
Jury were £200 only.* The Chief Justice^s unconstitu-
tional conduct was brought before Parliament, and
the result was a law restricting the judges in future
to an inferior and definite sum.
* Irish Parliamentary Register, vol. 11. Trial of John Magee
for Ubel on R. Daly, DubUn 1790.
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LITERARY AND PERSONAL. 61
We have spoken of the rapturous applause with
which Owenson was often received, especially by the
fijalleries. Some interesting exceptional cases might
be cited. '* I have frequently spoken to old men/'
writes an illustrious Irishman, '' who saw Owenson
hissed off the stage in Dubhn for singing an Irish
song—' The Driramin-doo-deelish' — which he used to
sing very well. But the Dublin audience in his
time was strongly anti-Irish and Orange in their
feelings.^'*
The Drimmin-dhu-Deelish is an Irish Jacobite
relic of which Samuel Ferguson has given us a trans-
lation. It literary signifies " Brown Cow,'' but most
people knew that King James, and not the Cow, was
the real object 6i the singer's eulogy and love. The
*' Black Bird," another treasonable song, had a
similar style and aim. Both were political pass-
words. We can M'ell imagine the earnestness with
which the violent champions of the Protestant ascen-
dancy of that day hissed Owenson off the stage when-
ever he attempted to sing the original Irish of the
following :
But if I could get sight of the crown oa hi« brow,
By night and day traveUing to Loudon Td go ;
Over mountains of mist and soft mosses below,
TiU I'd beat on the kettle-drums, Drimmin Dhu,
Welcome home, welcome home, Drimmin Dhu, O !
Good was your sweet milk, for drinking, I trow ;
With your face like a rose, and your dewlap of snow,
m part from you never, ah Drimmin Dhu, O t
* Letter from John O'Donovan, L.L.D., September 1, 1859.
t .Calanan has also translated this Jacobite relic. In his ver-
sion the brown "Drimmin" is asked "where are the strong
ones ?" to which she replies that they sleep beneath the cold
turf, but that like leaves on the trees, new people will arise to
chase the flint-hearted Saxon away.
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62 ' LADY MOROAN, fl£K CABEEB,
Mr. Donaldson tells n? that Owenson sung the
Drimmin-dhu-Deelish ^' with such feeling as brought^
the tear to beauty^s eye."* Another celebrated song
of Owenson^swas " The Kibuddery Hunt/^ or Shela'*
na-guiray a spirited Tally-ho effusion. Of his Con-
naught songs, " Shela beg na Connel lawn'' (little
Shela Connellan) was probably the be.st. ''He is
author of some of the best Irish songs extant/'
says a writer in 1812. ''He played with taste and
skill on several instruments, and was the last surviv-
ing pupil of Doctors Arne and Worgan."t
In 1793 we find Owenson still with Daly. The 'An-
thologia Hibernica' for March 1 793 says " the acknow-
ledged excellence of our desei»ving countryman in Irish
characters is too well known for us to enlarge upon.
His Foigard was given in his very best manner.^'
Noticing Owenson's benefit, the ' Anthologia' tells us
" Seldom has the theatre witnessed such an overflow.
It was a just tribute to a man of irreproachable
character in public and private."
In 1794, Owfenson believing that the proverbial
theatrical taste of Kilkenny furnished a good open-
ing for the erection cf a new and handsome theatrej
in that city, accordingly embarked in the arduous
and costly undertaking alluded to. The work sped
apace, but time proved that it reflected greater credit
on Owen son's histrionic taste, than on his prudence.
His capital was, by far, too small to justify him in
attempting single handed, so important and exten-
sive an undertaking. The difficulties which eventu-
ally overwhelmed and ruined Owenson began to knit
from this moment. 'It was beneath their pressure
that little Sydney penned some sad lines, be-
ginning :
* Donaldson's " Fifty Years of an Actor's Life." Part I.
t * Freeman's Journal,' May 28tb, 1812. % Ibid.
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LITEB.AEY AND PERSONAL. 63
Come, balroy sleep, thoa transient, sweet relief,
Shed o'er my aching eyes thy soothing power ;
And mingle with the silent tear of grief.
One drop extracted from thy opiate flower !
The handsome edifice that Owenson erected at
Kilkenny, was afterwards immortalized as the scene
of the far-famed amateur theatricals to which Tom
Moore, Miss (XNeil, Bushe, Crampton, and Corry im-
parted a rich lustre. In 1851 it was thrown down, in
order to make room for the erection of a public meet-
ing room. A very small portion still remains.
Owenson about this time became patentee of the
Londonderry Theatre."'*' His company was small but
select, and included many persons who subsequently
attained the highest rank on the stage. Miss Wal-
stein at this period plaved such parts as "The
Spoiled Child,'' and " The Four Mowbrays.''
The violent political ferment, however, which agi-
tated Ulster from 1790, until quenched by the
blood shed in '98, conapletely neutralized its once
proverbial theatrical taste. People thought only of
party politics and excesses. The Londonderry .
Theatre was deserted. Owenson and his little com-
pany played to empty benches ; a heavy pecuniary loss
resulted, and hoping for better luck our wandering
patentee shifted the scene of his labours to Connaught.
The political excitement of Ulster at the period of
which we write, may be inferred from a few historical
facts. In 1784t the "Peep o'day boys," after-
wards known as " Wreckers," and " Orangemen,"
sprung up in the north of Ireland. They broke into
the houses of their victims to search for arms ; and
in doing so, confesses one of their body, " they often
committed the most wanton outrages. J FuU of loyal
* * Freeman's Journal,' May 28th, 1812.
t Madden's " United Irishmen,'' v. i. p. 120.
i " History of the Rebellion," by Sir R. Musgavc, p. 54.
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64 LADY MORGAN, HBR CAREBE,
zeal, and replete with a violent desire to acquire the
lands and tenements of the Koman Catholic peas-
antry, they posted on every Papist's door, '* To hell or
Connaught/' In the beginning of 1796, seven
thousand Catholics had been forced or burned out of
. one northern county alone.* They took refuge in
Connaught ; their property was transferred to Pro-
testants. "That/' added Mr. Cristie, '^occurred
within my own knowledge.''t
The consequence was that the western province of
Ireland became overcharged with population; and
Owenson hoped that among so many people, a dra-
matic exhibition could not fail to pay. But the feel-
ings of the major portion were steeped too deeply in
gloom to seek or care for pleasure. Some, 'tis true,
sought it in the hope of momentarily forgetting care,
but the majority sternly held aloof. The population of
Connaught at the close of the last century was a des-
pondent, and to a theatrical manager, a deceptive
population.
Owenson could not afford to keep his daughters
' longer at Madame Tessone's academy. The property
of which Mrs. Owenson was possessed, dropped, we
believe, at her death.' He removed the little girls
from Clontarf to another but a cheaper school in
Dublin. A party who ought to know much upon the
subject, informs us that "little Sydney was (finally)
educated by Miss Crowe, who kept an eminent sem-
inary in North Earl Street, Dublin."
In the Dublin Directory from 1787 to 1801, the
name *' Elizabeth Crowe, Milliner, 20, North Earl
Street," appears on record. That this establishment
had some connection with " the eminent seminary/'
* Plowden's " History of Ireland," v. ii. p. 377.
t Minutes of Evidence taken by the Select Committee on
Orange Lodges, 1835, p. 379-80. ^
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LITERAUY AND PEESONAL. 65
up stairs, we are inclined to think likely. The
local customs of the time sanctioned such a combina-
tion. Every student of the literary history of Ireland
towards the close of the last century, is familiarly ac-
quainted with the name of Samuel Whyte, the ac-
complished preceptor of the Duke of Wellington,
Sheridan, Moore, and Emmet. Whyte was a man
of distinguished erudition, and a poet of no mean
calibre. His seminary was, as Moore^s Life of She-
ridan informs us, the first in the metropolis. Wilson^s
Directories of the period thus notice it r^—
*' Whyte, Samuel, Master of the ^
Seminary for English Grammar, ( 75 Grafton St.^
Geography, &c.
Whyte, William, Grocer.
When we find that Whyte^s* famous Academy for
Young Gentlemen was admittedly none the worse for
its proximity to figs, sugar, and bottled cider, it
would be hardly just or fair to condemn Miss Growers
seminary for young ladies, because the shop below
may have displayed a large and varied assortment of
* Mr, Q , now iu his eighty-first year, is, with one excep-
tion, the last surviving pupil of Whyte's. That gentleman is our
authority for the statement that the late Duke of Wellington re-
ceived instructions at Whyte's academy. Mr. Q— — has heard
his old preceptor vauntingly declare, that he had flogged the
breech of the subjugator of Tippoo Saib. How vastly would Mr.
"Whyte's pride have increased, had he lived to boast that the con-
qaeror of Napoleon had been under his hand, and piteously cried
for mercy at his knees ! Mr. Q tells us that Wbyte's taste
and talent for flogging were not inferior to Mr. Squeers's passion
in the same direction. Although his right arm was short almost
to deformity, it possessed great strength, and was the terror of
every pupil. "Such brutal flogging," observes Mr. Q- — ,
" would now no more be tolerated than an insolent attempt at
assault and battery in the public streets." Whyte died October
4th, 1811.
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66 LADY MORGAN, HER CAREER,
colossal hats, and other obsolete, but once fashion-
able articles of female head-gear.
Owenson fitted up a theatre in Water Lane, Sligo,
but his entertainment failed to meet with the encour-
agement he had expected. The manager, however,
resolved to give the speculation a patient trial, and
not to abandon it hastily. At certain periods of the
season he removed his company to Cork ; but only to
return again to Sligo. Owenson's theatric staflF
must have been above the ordinary provincial calibre
to stand the test of a Cork audience. (yKeefe, in
noticing Irish dramatic talent in the last century, tells
us that in Cork the Thespian art, and its actors were
^^in very high estimation. If a play on its first
representation iti London, should be driven from the
stage, and an actor fail in a trial part, and therefore
be neglected, such player and such actor were never
brought either to Cork or Limerick. No dramatic
piece was attempted to be acted in those places, but
such as had gone through their probation, and been
stamped with the seal of success by a London au-
dience. The performers also were, in their walk, at
the top of the profession.''
A characteristic and interesting, but not particu-
larly important letter, addressed by little Sydney at
school in Dublin, to her father, "at the theatre,
Cork,'' has been preserved. The care which Owen-
son took to make his daughter choose her company, as
far as possible, above her, is traceable not less in this
letter than in Lady Morgan's after life. Marlborough
Street, to which she alludes, is situated, as most
people know, within one jninute's walk of the site of
Miss Crowe's Academy.
. " October 30, 1794,
"I have so often expatiated on the subject of
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LITERARY AND PERSONAL^ 67
suspence, that it would be mere tautology to say what
I have felt at my D*" Papa^s long silence;* or rather
to attempt saying, for sensations of that kind are
easier concievM than express^, and tho' your D,
letter disipated my fears, yet I am not free from
uneasiness. - That affection which is ever alive in the
bosom of a fond child shrinks with sensitive feeling
irom the touch of apprehension, and is only to be
convinced by ocular demonstration. Thus (unthank-
ful as I am) I shall never be happy until I see you
comfortably seated by the fire-side in our little parlor,
and myself still more comfortably seated on yr knee
(provided the burden be not too heavy) listening
attentively while jrou the ^ t^e unfold,' and when His
finished I exclaim with Desdemona, ^'tis true 'tis
pity, and pity 'tis 'tis true ;' but the quotation would
not be applicable to every part of your unfolded tale,
as the conduct and benevolent attention of yr Physi-
cian and Mr. Brennan, merits a better reflection;
when I think on their goodness to you the words of
Madame de Genlis always occurs to my mind, ' Vir-
tue may be acquired, but goodness is a gift of nature,'
and nature has been so profuse in that respect to both
Gentlemen, that if acquired virtue were to step in, she
would not find a single vacant spot to take possession
of: what happiness it would give me to return per-
sonal thanks to these friends in the most literal sense
of the word, is needless to say, as every friend
by their efficacious endeavours have contributed to
the restoration of my D*" Papa's health must be dear
to me. You complain that I am sparing of my
paper, but really. My Dear Sir, if you were enclosed
within the walls of a bparding school yself, you
would find something to say no easy matter. As for
news you will see more in a day's paper than I could
send you in a week ; and for writing on any subject
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68 LADY MOUGAN, HEB. CAREER,
that may pccar, it is not so easy as you Beaux esprits
imagine. The muses, like all other ladies, are
whiibsical and inconstant, and it requires no little art
to keep in their good graces. At one time they will
preside over every line, at another they will scarcely
deign to look over y shoulder : so you may judge of
my Muse^s temper, by the style of my letter. We
spent two delightful evenings at Mrs. Lynchers of
Marlborough Street. She is the most hospitable and
the best natured woman I ever met with. There is a
very fine grand forte piano, and I am highly gratified
with my favorite amusement. We are to drink tea
there to-morrow evening. / should not have visited
them only Twos pretty -sure of yr permission, as it
was yr wish I should go to the Play with them one
night, and any one you would wish me to appear in
public unth, I am sure you would have no objection
to in private. I sent Molly to Mr. Dixon's, who
w*«ays there is no one in the world he would, so soon
have as yourself, and that tho' more than one have
been about them he has kept them for you.*
You can have a drawing-room and dining-room, and
bed-chamber on the first-floor, and bed-chamber on the
second, with kitchen entirely to yself for 40 guineas
per year, they are fitted up in a very elegant style, all
the rooms are new papered and painted, and the hall
and staircase new oil-clothed, he begs you will write
to him by return of post as the rooms are damp, ahd
would require airing. Let me know for certain when
we may expect you in. God bless you my D' Papa,
take care of y'self.
"S. OWENSON.
* Owenson, when in Dublin, usually lodged with Mr? Thomas
Dixon» a hosier, residing at No. 60, Dame Street. In the ' Dub-
lin Journal/ (May 3rd, 1794), Owenson's benefit is announced,
*'of whom Tickets may be had at Mr. Dixon's, 60, Dame Street."
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LITEBAEY AND PBBSONAL. 69
" I sent to-day to Mr. Lee's for some music, he
seemM quite pleased that I did so, and begged I
would send whenever I wanted any.
" Mr. Owenson, Theatre, Cork."
Sam Lee, to whom Sidney Owenson alludes, was
the leader of the band in Crow Street Theatre, and, as
John CVKeefe tells us in his " Recollections,^' the first
public performer on the violin. He opened a music
shop on Cork Hill, and a cofi*ee house in Exchange
Street, both of which were much encouraged and fre-
quented. He was by turns, witty, proud, resentful,
and obliging. One evening, when returning to
Dublin, after meeting some friends at a convivial
dinner, he interchanged warm words with one of
them. In consequence of this he refused to walk on
the same side of the road with his quondam friend :
in a passion he crossed over to the other side, missed
his footing, fell down a steep, received some inward
injuries, and died.
Were it not for the hospitalities and kind attention
which Mrs. Lynch of Marlborough Street uniformly
shewed to our young authoress at this period, the
contracted sphere of Miss Crowe's Seminary would,
no doubt, have become at times insupportable. That
it was not prticularly attractive, the following Poem,
suggested by " a shower which prevented the writer
returning to school at the expiration of the Christmas ,
holydays,"' shews.
I ne'er did hail thy orient red,
Sol, when thou lea^'st thy eastern bed,
And o'er the world thy glories spread,
and. radiant power,
As when thou'st earth-drawn vapours shed
in heavy shower !
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70 LADY MORGAN, HEE CAREER,
And oft I upward cast mine eyes,
(Tho* not I ween o'er weather-wise)
And gladsome yiew the frowning skies
^ while screaming crow
Proclaims the storm as high he flies,
to us below !
Now gUid I hear the wind blow bleak,
View puss by fire her station take,
And grandmamma loud moanings make
of shooting com ;
For rain these signs portentous speak,
and gloomy mom !
Glad see I muddled streamlet stray,
Whose course no sunbeam renders gay,
Reflecting nought but wat'ry ray,
and dimpled o'er ;
While goslings on its surface play,
before the door
The clear, pellucid drops I view,
As large they fall, tho' yet but few.
And sweet as Californian dew
to me appear ;
Or stream that prophet Moses drew
From rocky source for murmuring Jew,
in desart drear !
Now glad I throw straw bonnet by,
For sure to school I cannot hie.
While flood Deucalion pours the sky,
' t' arrest my feet ;
And this excuse I'll plead so sly,
compulsion sweet.
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LITERARY AND PERSONAL. 71
CHAPTER III.
Sydney Owenson introdaced to the Connanght gentry. — "O
whistle and I will be with you my lad." — A Beau for Miss
Owenson.— Sligo Abbey.— The Post Boy.— "No letters."— A
French fleet arrives in Killala Bay. — Defeat of the British
Army. — Debt, difficulties, and seizure. — Owenson a ruined
man. — Many sorrows and few friends. — Sydney Owenson's first
book. — The subscribers. — Patronized by Lady Molra. — Miss
Owenson precedes Moore in collecting the melodies of her
native country. — Becomes a Novelist. — St. Clair, or the Heiress
of Desmond. — Sligo again. — ^A pestle and mortar assists in
composing " St. Clair."— " The Novice of St. Dominick."—
Dermody's last Interview vrith Miss Owenson.
The gentry of Sligo, whenever they succeeded in
persuading Owenson to spend an evening with them,
regarded as a compliment his acceptance of their
invitations. His presence diffused electrical mirth
around. Give him a bottle of claret, and a jug i
of poteen, and Owenson forgot all his care. He
was never penurious of his songs, bon mots, stories,
or sly advice. A wink from him would set the
table in a roar. His society was courted with
avidity ;^ but the theatre in Water Lane, of which
he was manager, received scant patronage.
The Connaught gentry paid Owenson such atten-
tion that he came to Dublin for little Sydney, and
brought her down to Sligo. The family of Sir
* Bemiuiscences supplied by the late Mr. Gillmor of Sligo
when in his 91st year.
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72 LADY MORGAN, HER CAREER,
iialby Crofton of CoUoony, the Everards, the Bar-
clays, the Coopers, Phibbses, Booths, Ormsbys, and
Norcots shewed the small girl much kindness and
attention.
The legitimate drama having failed to take, poor
Owenson endeavoured to fill his theatre by per-
sonating some very loudly comic characters. '* I
remember,^^ observes an old Sligo lady, "enjoying
his representation of the Killibegs Haymaker, with
suggauns (or straw ropes) round his hat, waist, and
legs, his coat in tatters, and straws sticking out of
his brougues. I laughed heartily at him, as did his
two daughters who were in the pit with, I think,
an uncle of the present Sir Robert Gore Booth, of
Lisadile, and indeed I thought I would be ashamed
if my father were so dressed, but they enjoyed it
greatly. I knew Miss Sydney Owenson well, she
was a gay vivacious smart young woman; I re-
member her dining and spending the evening at
Mr. Feeney^s, a merchant of Sligo; she came in
the full dressed fashion of that day, she danced
gracefully. Being called on for a song, all our ex-
pectations were that we should hear some new
French or Italian air, but, to our surprise, she took
her sweet small harp, and played up the air and
sung the song 'Oh whistle and I will be with
you ray lad/ Mr. Owenson was a very good comic
actor. I remember having seen the same play acted
afterwards in Dublin, but not so well as Mr. Owen-
son did it at Sligo. Miss Owenson spent a great
deal of her time at the seat of Sir Malby Crofton.
She often passed me on the road riding a nice pony,
I thought that she did not sit so straight in her
saddle as the ladies who accompanied her.'^ Another
octogenarian of Sligo writes, " I frequently went to
Owenson^s theatre in Water Lane, Knox^s Street.
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LTTEBASY AND PERSONAL. . 7d
I remember his daughters in the pit with Mr. Harloe
Phibbs, who attracted general observation, as a report
was at that time rife that he was courting Miss
Sydney Owenson. There were no boxes in Sligo
Theatre then. Harloe Phibbs was the son of old
Bloomer Phibbs who went by the name of ' Smooth
Acres.' The fashionable improvidence of the day
led to these acres being encumbered and sold, I
remember, on the particular night in question, that
Owenson's part was Pan, dressed up in goat skins,
a very amusing character.^' The accuracy of Mrs.
^'s recollection will be sufBciently attested by
referring back to pp. 21, 22.
The records of this period of Sydney Owenson's life
and of the growth of her mind, are not numerous.
Among other effusions, however, indicating a thought-
ful and religious spirit, one, written on a tomb among
the ruins of Sligo Abbey, merits transcription. —
And must I, ghastly guest of this dark dwelling,
Pale, senseless tenant, must I come to this ;
And shall this heart congeal, now warmly swelling,
To woe's soft languor, rapture's melting bliss.
^ And must this pulse that beats to joy's gay measure,
Throbbing to bloomy health, this pulse lie stiU ;
And must each sense alive to guileless pleasure,
Torpid resist the touch of transports' thrill ?
And must each sensate feeling too decay,
(Bach feeling anguished by another's sorrow)
This form that blushes youth and health to-day,
Lie cold and senseless thus, like thee, to-morrow ?
Terrific Death ! to shun thy dreaded poVr
Who would not brave existence ? direst strife ?
But that beyond thy dark shade's gloomy bov^r.
Faith points her vista to eternal Ufe I
Miss Owenson, ten years after, in referring to
Sligo Abbey, and ^'her days of childhood'' writes :
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74 LADY MORGAN, HER CAEEEE,
*'An idea of its venerable ruins had insensibly
associated itself with the remembrance of the lively
susceptibility I then possessed, to every impression ;
and that idea still preserving its ascendancy in my
mind, rendered the object that gave rise to it, an
object of peculiar interest, and ardent curiosity. I
have always loved those scenes which connect the plea-
sures of intellect with those of sense, which are
equally dear to reflection and to fancy, over which'
the mental sympathies extend themselves, and where
the heart and the eye repose with equal satisfaction
and delight; and as I involved myself amidst the
ruins of Sligo Abbey, where doubtless many a saint
and many a hero trod, the beautiful apostrophe of
Volney floated on my memory : ' Je vous salue mines
solitaires! Oui: tandis que votre aspect repousse
d'lin secret effroi les regards du vulgaire ; mon coeur
trouve k vous contempler le charme des sentimens
profonds et des hautes pensees/ ''
''The Country Post-boy,^' a relic of the same re-'
mote era of Sydney^s early life, is a pleasing por-
traiture of a character now almost extinct. The fifth
verse touchingly alludes to her poor mother who
had just died.
Ah ! careless wight, aod e'en as careless, gay,
Slow winding down yon mountain's rugged hrow»
Cheering with ballad blithe thy weary way,
And as thy thoughtless mule, as thoughtless thou !
Ne'er dreaming thdu to many art a fate
Replete with baleful tidings ; big with woe
To cloud th' illusive beam of hope elate.
Or blast^he germ of love's first ardent blow !
To snap the golden, fragile thread of bliss,
Deface the smiling portrait Fancy drew ;
Convey the last farewell, the dying kiss,
And change each tint of joy to mis'ry's hue !
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•
^ LrrEEAUY AND PERSONAL. 75
To freeze the vital stream that -warmly glows
Withio the heart, to filia] fears a prey ;
The sad, hut long expected task impose,
- To weep the sainted parents swift decay I
Ah I orphan mourner, I can feel for thee,
For I, like thee, have cause to weep, to sigh;
liike thine, the parent heaven bestowed oq me,
Fled from her child, to claim her kindred sky !
Tet senseless wight, if thou the heart can'st wring.
And sadder certainty for sad doubt give ;
Wealth, title, fame, 'tis also thine to bring.
And all for which the witless many live !
To the sad prisoner liberty convey.
To modest merit the unasked award ;
To dark despair restore hope's vivid day,
To injured innocence its just reward !
To act the herald of each tender thought
Of love — by lingering absence more refin'd ;
"With sentiment impassioned, glowing, fraught,
And all th' endearing intercourse of mind !
The Authoress, with beautiful diffuseness, then
proceeds to say that " When stillness breathes along
the silent groves/' she loves to hear the wild tones
of the Post-boy's horn float on the distance :
Now stealing faintly with vibration soft,
Now mingling louder with each passing gale.
Now 'midst the hills by echo answer'd oft,
And louder now it rings along the dale I
How throbs each pulse, with every "varied sound.
How many ardent expectations burn.
How does my heart within my bosom bound ?
And how I fly to meet, yet fear to learn ?
Tes, 'tis for me — each character I kiss.
Then trembling, hoping, break the well-known seal
But why relate its tale of woe or bliss,
For ah ! like me, who woe or bliss can feel ?
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76 LADY MORGAN, HEE CAREER,
The neighbourhood in which Sydney Owenson
was located, possessed many striking natural beauties,
and pleasing associations, peculiarly calculated to
promote the growth of a warm poetic temperament.
In her "Patriotic Sketches,^' the authoress paints
a few of the more prominent features of Sligo.
" The scenery which environs the town,'' she writes,
" is bold, irregular, and picturesque : and though
despoiled of those luxurious woods which once (in
xiommon with the rest of the Island) enriched its
aspect, it still preserves many of those traits whigh
constitute the perfection of landscape ; hanging over
a beautiful bay formed by the influx of the ^ Steep
Atlantic,' sheltered by lofty mountains, and reposing
almost at the brow of a hill along whose base the
Eiver Gitley steals its devious way. The high road
by which it is approached for the last twenty miles,
winds through a scene of romantic variety, which
frequently combines the most cultivated and har-
monious traits, with the wildest and most abrupt
images of scenic beauty. The groves, the lakes, the
enchanting islands, and all the glowing charms of
an Italian scenery which diffuses itself over the
picturesque and cultivated scenes of Plorence-court,
are suddenly replaced by a dreary heath, and a bold
and continued mass of rocks, through which nature,
time, and art, seem to have cut a deep and narrow
defile which, entered at that hour sacred to the
sombre grandeur of the true sublime, awakens in
the heart of the traveller such a warning as the
entrance to Dante's Inferno holds out." Miss Owen-
son also refers, at some length, to the romantic Glen
of Knock-na-ree, situated within three miles of Sligo,
and combining the finest ocean scenery, with many
traits of striking picturesque landscape. Bathed in
gloom, the overhanging rocks almost knit their tower-
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LITEBARY AND PERSONAL. 77
ing summits. The authoress was much struck by
the cloud-capped Heights of Benbullen, the Island
of Innis-murry, celebrated as still containing part
of the crosier of St. Molaire, the distant view of the
undulating coast of Ulster, and Sugna-clogh> or
the Giant^s Grave, near the town of Sligo. Several
immense stones are raised in a very carious and
romantic manner, upon the ends of others, which
seem pitched perpendicularly into the earth, and
give to the eye an idea of Stonehenge.
.The singular water-flight of Glencar did not fail
to excite Miss Owenson's admiration. Deriving its
source from the summit of a lofty hill, whose base
it scarcely reaches, the glittering element is again
carried perpendicularly back, forming a species of
water-spout. Its appearance when seen under the
influence of an unclouded sun, rising like a pillar
of light, is strikingly beautiful : the least variation
of the air breaks it into a feathery spray, which
falls at a considerable distance, like the misty shower
of a summer^s evening, tinged with the departing
glow of the horizon. But there are other aquatic
curiosities near Sligo. The steep Hill of the Hawk
is the first point of land seen on this coast at sea,
and has long served as a landmark to mariners.
Notwithstanding the altitude of Knock-na-shong,
its summit contains a well which ebbs and flows with
the tide. Of both mountain and well, tradition has
preserved many miraculous tales.
Meanwhile the Rebellion of 1798 hurried to a crisis*
Nothing else was spoken of : the conflict raged in
Leinster, with frightful fury ; Connaught, although
shaken by excitement, had hitherto remained inactive.
At last, on August 22nd. 1798, three French frigates
under General Humbert, with twelve hundred men
on board, entered BjUala Bay, in the province of
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78 LADY MORGAN, HEE CAREER,
Connaught, captured the town, took the Protestant
bishop prisoner, unfurled a banner on which was
inscribed " Erin go Bragh/^ invoked the peasantry to
flock beneath it : distributed arms and ammunition,
marched through the almost impassible defile
of Barnageeragh, and surprised Castlebar ! Lord
Hutchinson with a tolerably numerous force, and a
good train of artillery commanded the British
Garrison. General, afterwards Lord Lake, had just
arrived with a large reinforcement. On receiving
information of the advance of Humbert, the EngUsh
Generals beat to arms and took up position, with
nine pieces of cannon, on a rising ground which
seemed almost impregnable. As soon as the French
column appeared, the British ordnance was brought
to play upon it with apparent effect. Humbert,
however, by a series of ingenious and irregular
movements, speedily attained an advantage; the
British line wavered, the cannon was abandoned to
the enemy, and in a few moments the entire of the
Eoyal army was flying like a mob ! "When the French
captured the large town of Castlebar, the officers, in
the true Gallic spirit, advertised a ball and supper
that night. Numbers of ladies attended it ; " decorum"
writes Sir Jonah Barrington, '* was strictly preserved.
They paid ready money for everything." This joyous
and chivalrous spirit, seems, indeed, surprising when
the exhausted condition of the men is taken into
account. *^ Their complexions," writes the Bishop
of Killala, "were pale, their clothes much the worse
for wear, they appeared incapable of enduring any
hardship, and these were the men, however, of whom
it was presently observed, that they could be well
content to live on bread and water, and to make the
stones of the street their bed. They had served in
Italy under Buonaparte, and were of the army of the
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LITERARY AND PERSONAL. 79
Bhine. Several of them declared that at the Siege
of Metz, thej had slept on the ground in holes four
feet deep under the snow, and an oflBcer pointing to
his leather small-clothes said "that he had not taken
them off for a twelvemonth/^
Several thousand of the Connaught peasantry and
some of the gentry joined Humbert.* The sequel
of this interesting historic incident is well known.
It may well be supposed that in the midst of this
excitement and debris, Owenson^s Thespian place
and plans came to the ground. Miss 0—, formerly of
Sligo tells us that a few weeks previous to the battle
of Castlebar, she well recollects " Owenson's stage
scenery, dresses and decorations all under seizure
by the landlord, for rent due by Owenson on
* General Humbert's address to the Irish people is an historic
curiosity, and of some interest at the present moment.
"Irishmen — You have not forgot Bantry Bay. You know.'what
efforts France has made to assist you. Her affections for you, her
desire for avenging your wrongs and insuring your independence,
can never be impaired. After several unsuccessful attempts, be-
hold Frenchmen arrived amongst you. They come to support
your courage, to share your dangers, to join their arms, and to
mix their blood with yours in the sacred cause of liberty. Brave
Irishmen, our cause is common ; like you, we abhor the avaricious
and blood-thirsty policy of an oppressive government ; the peace
of the world shall ever be troubled, as long as the British minis-
try is suffered to make, with impunity, a traffic of the industry,
labour, and blood of the people. We swear the most inviolable
respect for your properties, your laws, and all your religious opi-
nions. Be free ; be masters in your own country. We look for
no other conqnest than that of your liberty — no other success
than yours. The moment of breaking > our chains is arrived :
our triumphant troops are now flying to the extremities of the
earth, to tear up the roots of the wealth and tyranny of our
enemies. Irishmen, recollect the late defeats which your ene-
mies have experienced from the French ; recollect the plains of
Honscoot«, Toulon, Quiberon, and Ostend^ recollect America,
free from the moment she wished to be so. Union I liberty ! the
Irish republic ! — such is our shout, let us march — our hearts are
devoted to you ; our glory is in your happiness."
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80 LADY MOKOAK^ HER CABEEB,
the theatre, and that it was only after some con-
siderable delay the property was released, and the
debt liquidated by the then most eminent merchant of
Sligo, Ignatius Everard, father of the distinguished
barrister, fiichard Everard, Esq, well known by the
sobriquet of "Dicky Demurrer/' But this act of
kindness merely staved off temporarily the evil ^ay,
DifiBcuIties soon pressed, in bewildering succession^
upon our player. His family, for a time, feR the
cold grip of penury ; and were it not for the steadfast
friendship of half a dozen sincere hearts, which
sparkled, few-and-far-between, amid the dense and
almost endless ranks of Owenson's professed friends
and admirers, grim hunger and bitter sorrow might
have weighed them down.
Nor were the few true friends to whom we have
^hided any of the men "with handles to their
names,*' who, in days gone by, were wont, to invite
Owenson, as a dramatic lion £^ud convivialist, to
their table. "His last friend,'' says Sir Jonah
Barrington, " was old Fontaine,* a celebrated French
dancing master, many years domiciliated and esteemed
in Dublin. He aided Owenson and his family while
he had the means to do so, and they both died nearly
at the same time— instances of talent and improvi-
dence."
In 1798, Owenson, in bad health, and worse
spirits, retired from the stage. " He was at that
time," writes Sir Jonah, " highly celebrated in the
line of Irish characters, and never did an actor exist
so perfectly calculated, in my opinion, to personify
that singular class of people. Considerably above
six feet in height ;— remarkably handsome and brave-
looking,— vigorous and well-shaped,— he was not
* <« John Fontaine, dancing master, 43, Townsend-street/' ap-
pears in the Dublin Directories, until 1803. W. J. F.
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LITERARY AND PERSONAL. 81
valgar enough to disgust, nor was he genteel enough
to be out of character : never did I see any actor so
entirely identify himself with the peculiarities of
those Irish parts he assumed. In the higher class
of Irish characters (old officers, &c.) he looked well,
but did not exhibit sufficient formal dignity : and in
the lowest, his humour was scarcely quaint and
original enough ; but in what^ight be termed the
' middle class of Paddies/ no man ever combined the
look and manner with such felicity as Owenson.
Scientific singing was not an Irish quality ; and he
sang well enough. I have heard Mr. Jack Johnston
warble so very skiKully, and act some parts so very
hke a man of education, that I almost forgot the
nation he was mimicking: that was not the case
with Owenson ; he acted as if he had not received
too much schooling/^
In 1798, as we have said, Owenson retired from
the stage. Jack Johnston, originally a common
soldier, had just made his debut, under Macklin's ,
auspices, as an unrivalled delineator of the Irish
character. Owenson's "occupation'^ was, from this
moment, " gone,'' and a hopeless prospect lay on
every side before him. The sensitive heart, and far
seeing eye of his eldest daughter, became sadly and
fully aware of the inevitable result. There is one
little poem addressed to sleep, and written at this
period, which it is not easy to read with dry eyes.
It was thrown off during one of the many hours of
bitter sorrow,- which clouded the brow of the ruined
player and his devoted daughter. Poor Sydney
longed for sleep to drown her care. Though essen-
tially different in versification, this poem is, in
style and sentiment, hardly inferior to Shakspeare's
celebrated address to the same solacing restor-
ative : —
o
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82 LADY MORGAN^ HER CAREER,
Shroud in thy downy and oblivions veil,
The woes that still defer, thy gentle reign.
And o'er my wearied senses softly steal.
The welcome bondage of thy nnfelt chain !
Wrap in forgetfnlness my care-worn mind,
Give to oblivion my prophetic fears :
My mem'ry in thy magic thraldom bind,
Steal this sad sigh, and check these flowing tears.
come ! and let imagination beam
O'er my soft slumbers her enchanting ray,
Shed her bright influence in some golden dream.
And hover round me with illusions gay !
Invoke the mimic Fancy to thy aid.
And all her frolic and serial train,
"With rosy visions cheer thy votarist maid.
And with sweet treachery steal her bosom's pain !
Each fond affection in my heart revive,
(By sorrow's torpid touch long^lull'd to rest ;)
Once to each thrilling tone of joy alive.
But dormant now within my joyless breast !
Thus come delightful and delusive sleep.
Thus o'er my wither'd spirits claim thy power ;
In thy sweet balm my anguish'd feelings steep,
For years of sufferings grant one blissful hour !
The ode "To a Tear'* is also sadly suggestive : —
Ah 1 when thou steal'st down pallid cheek.
Of poor affliction, sad and meek,
heart-easing tear:
Then like the glowing shower, mild,
That oft succeeds the storm wild,
thou dost appear !
Deprived, by death, of the companionship of a fond
wife, and freed, by poverty, from the attentions of
many friends, Owenson now looked to his loving
daughters for solace and sincerity. In 1799 Sydney
bade adieu to the picturesque and soul-inspiring
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LITERARY AND PERSONAL. 83
haunts with which Sligo abounded. Within the um-
brageous seclusion of a little bower, planned with
her own head, and planted by her own hand, she
composed an elaborate farewell ode, from which we
cull a few closing couplets : —
No more shall now my steps intrude
Amidst thy dreary solitude ;
And thou my dear and lonely cell,
From whence I bade these scenes farewelh
The hand that did thy honours raise.
Would fain perpetuate thy praise ;
For well, dear cell, has thou repaid
My labours with thy friendly shade ;
Oft from th' unmeaning crowd I'd fly,
From fashion's Tapid circle hie,
And beneath thy umbrage sought
The luxury of pensive thought,
Or view'd the moon'is pale quivering ray,
Thro* thy woodbine portal play,
Or at the long expected hour.
Have flown to thee, dear conscious bower :
To catch (on some kind zephyr borne)
The welcome sound of post-boy's horn I
Impatient thro' thy foliage glance.
Impatient chid his slow advance ;
Hear the dread " No," to my demand,
Yet fix'd remain with out-stretch'd hand.
With beating heart and eager eyes,
'TiU hope in disappointment dies :
Or haply snatch th' expected bliss,
Print on each character a kiss ;
StiU on each tender sentence dwell.
While on each line a fond tear feU,
In which the fonder father prov'd.
How well his absent child was lov'd !
How true, how sweetly .he could blend
. In one, the sire,, preceptor, friend.
» * « *
From listless solitude I fly
To meet the fond expectant eye ;
Melt in a parent's warm embrace.
And in each fond endearment trace
The welcome of the throbbing heart.
Soft mumnuripg ** No more we part."
G 2.
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84 LADY MOBGAKj H£E CAREER,
Under the difficulties which resulted from her
father's misfortunes, the subject of this memoir
made her iSrst literary essay in print. As Lady
Morgan has herself acknowledged, in the Preface to
" IVance," the world has been indebted to Necessity
— ^that great parent of exertion— for the feast of
pleasure which her writings have enabled it to taste.
In March, 1801, Sydney Owenson placed in the
inky fingers of Mr. A. Stewart, Printer, 86, Bride-
street, Dublin, the manuscript of a little volume of
poems, juvenile and otherwise. " The verse in this
book," observes one of the first, as well as one of
the most fastidious of recent critics, *^ written before
Byron had brought into existence the fresh rhythm
and feelings of modem verse— is wondrously good
of its kind— the time considered, and the preparations
of its writer taken into account." This volume,
the tiny book of a tiny author, was tolerably credit-
able to Mr. Stewart's press, if we except a few such
awkward typographical oversights as ** flutterer," for
^^ flatterer," (p. 119); and wearied eyes, "half
dozing," instead of ^^half closing on vacancy,"
(p. 29). Miss Owenson^s means were too much
pinched to enable her to cancel such leaves as con-
tained matter which might, she thought, be altered
for the better; and we find various passages in the
printed copy, neatly modified in her own autograph.
In the Hawthorne Tree, for instance, an obliterating
line is lightly drawn through.
And
" Nor olive by the ancients said
Was sacred to the blue-ey'd maid I"
" Nor Minerva's olive flovrer
Sacred to vFisdom's heavenly povrer !"
is substituted by the authoress. The great patroness
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MTBBARY AND PERSONAL. 85
of literature in Ireland, at the close of the last, and
the beginning of the present century, was Elizabeth,
Countess of Moira ; and to this high and accomplished
lady Httle Sydney was graciously permitted to in-
scribe her maiden literary effort. " In sanctioning
by your patronage,^' wrote Miss Owenson, '*^ those
little poetic sketches, you have conferred an honor
on their author of which she is infinitely more sensi-
ble than capable of expressing the gratitude it has
excited/'
The Countess, though thoroughly English, by
birth and descent, was filled by a hearty Irish na-
tionality of feeling, from which too many members
of the Peerage of Ireland have been invulnerably
exempt. The daughter of Theophilus, Lord of
Huntingdon and sole heir of her br6ther, on whose
death, in 1789, she succeeded to the Hastings
Peerage, in her own right, this illustrious lady be-
came the third wife of the humane Earl of Moira. Her
generous conduct in sheltering Lord and Lady Edward
Eitzgerald, at the stormy period of 1798, as well
as the uniform philanthropy and patriotism of her
life, wiU long be remembered with gratitude in
Ireland. Lady Moira died in 1808. Her once gor-
geous residence, on Usher's Island, Dublin, is now
the Mendicity Institution.
Mr., afterwards, Sir R. Philips, of St. Paul's
Church-yard, undertook to conduct the publication
and agency of Miss Owenson's book in London ; but
being the work of an utterly unknown author, it
was deemed advisable to secure in advance, as many
subscribers as possible. An alphabetical list was
accordingly prefixed to the little volume, and it is
interesting at this distance of time, to glance over it.
The first name is that of Joseph Atkinson, M.B.I.A.,
an Irish poet, who, although famous enough at one
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86 LADY MORGAN, HER CAEEEE,
J)eriod, is piiobably better known now as the early
friend of Dorothea Jordan, and Thomas Moore, who
has celebrated his many social qualities in a poem
to his memory. Burke Bethal, Barrister-at-Law,
also figures— a man whose witty and convivial pro-
pensities have been quenched by death within the
last few years only. In the C. division, we have
Dr. Young, Lord Bishop of Clonfert, Sir Malby
Crofton, Bart., and Abraham Colles, M.D. Of the
first, we may observe that the discovery of a principle
in natural philosophy which he applied to gunnery,
introduced him to the notice of the military viceroy.
Lord Cornwallis, and in 1798, he was presented by
his Excellency with the See of Clonfert. Sir Malby
Crofton, of whom we have already spoken, was said
to have been a relation of Owenson^s, and proved
himself a dear friend through life to the interests of
his daughter. The death of Dr. Abraham Colles in
1843, was an irreparable blow to suffering humanity ;
and caused a blank in the ratiks of the medical pro-
fesion, which may not be for many years filled up.
Among the other subscribers, were John Foster, last
Speaker of the Irish House of Commons; Lord
Granard, whose saturnine portrait Sir Jonah Bar-
rington, introduces in his work on the Union ; the
Countess of Granard, the accomplished daughter of
Lady Moira, Sir Duke and Lady Giffard ; the patriot
Duke of Leinster; the Countess of Moira; Sir
Robert Lauder; Colonel King, M.P., afterwards
Lord Lorton, who was tried for complicity in the
murder of Colonel Fitzgerald, the base seducer of
the beautiful Miss King ; Thomas Moore, the poet
of all circles — the idol of his own; Councillor
M^Nally, who received a secret stipend from the
Crown fot betraying the professional secrets of the
United Irishmen; Mrs. O'Beime, of Ardbraccan
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LITEBAIIY AND JPBBSONAL. 87
Palace, the wife of Louis, Lord Bishop of Meath,
originally a Roman Catholic Ecclesiastical student ;
the Bev. Mr. O'Beirne, P.P. of Longford, the
Protestant prelate^s brother 5 Captain, afterwards the
Bight Hon. William Saurin, whose tedious political
regime in Ireland was a national calamity, and the
Bev. Dr. Millar, the subsequently celebrated author
of the Philosophy of History. Many more names
appear on record, but those we have .enumerated are
the only ones which at this distance of time, are
recdgnizable.
The modest Preface of Sydney Owenson to her
fost-born book is pleasant to read, and repays the
labour of transcription. The Preface is dated from
"Dominick Street, Dublin/' She wrote it when on a
visit with Mrs. Lefauu, who resided at number 45
in that street. In her last introduction to ^* The Wild
Irish Girl/* Lady Morgan speaks of Mrs. Lefanu, the
accomplished sister of R. B. Sheridan, as h^ earliest
and dearest friend/* The most literary house then
open in Dublin was that of Mrs. Lefanu. She was
not only literary in taste but also in talent. From a
paper of the day we cull the following impromptu on
a sparkling comedy of which Mrs. Lefanu was the
author.
Dame Comedy so duU had grown,
She made the town in sadness moan,
Now to her native spirit true,
She treats us with a laugh anew.
But Mrs. Lefanu could also draw forth tears by her
tragic powers. Moore reminds us that in 1790 she
used to perform the part of Jane Shore at Lady
Burrowe's Private theatre. The small Irish girl
'* her harp and howl," received some kind acts of
attention and appreciation from Mis. Lefanu. Her
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^^-'
88 LADY MORGAN^ HER CAREER^
maiden preface, which began as follows, was dated,
as we have said, from this lady's house.
" The mind of a young author, on the eve of ex-
posing to the gaze of the public scrutiny, the
cherished offspring of its solicitude, 'with all its
imperfections on its head,' seeks to strengthen its
hopes and tranquillize its apprehensions, by adopting
every idea which leads to the belief, that the errors
of youth will meet with that indulgence in a literary
sense, which in a moral one it never fails to obtain —
and iiP there is indeed 'in youth a prone ^and speech-
less dialect such as moves men,' on this principle, at
least, the author of this little volume may rest her
claim to toleration. The fugitive trifles it contains,
best evince in themselves - the period in which they
were written ; many of them a young ' imagination
bodied forth' in those truant hours which childhood
loves to steal from enforced avocation, and many of
them were the effusions of an heart newly awakened
to happiness, or seeking to lose its little sorrows
amidst the playful . imagery of fancy's creation,
faithful transcripts from local and interesting ori-
ginals, they were composed under the influence of
the feelings; and their author writing what she
thought, rather than thinking what she should writ-e,
realized with rapidity the 'idle visions of her brain,'
or veiled beneath the fantastic drapery of poetic
decoration the natural simplicity of those sentiments,
which her heart owned, and her understanding ra-
tified."
The reader has a right to expect that we should
lay some extracts from this little book before him. Of
these there are, in truth, no dearth. Every imagin-
able object and situation seems to have formed the
fair poetess's theme at various times ; but we prefer
tq select such pieces as furnish an insight into Miss
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LITEEAEY AND PEESONAL. 89
Owenson^s mode of life at the remote epoch in ques-
tion. Not a few of her poems are entitled to the
rank of autobiographical fragments. There is an
unmistakeable air of truthfulness' about them; and
the cautious reader need not fear that Sydney had
much need to indulge in Poets^-license.
In a piece, addressed *' To Myself/' an effort to
cast off care is traceable. The authoress urges her
active mind to retravel the scenes of happier bygone
days.
Ah ! little maid, how blest the day,
'When with the frolic hours, you gay
and careless roVd
Thro' life, from woe, from trouble free,
Nor thought you e'er could parted be,
from those you lov*d !
Thine was the blest propensity,
To make that world a heaven to thee,
in which you mov*d
Nor knew the cause that made thee blest.
That joy'd thy heart and warmM thy breast,
was those you lov*d !
No thought of ill did ever scare.
Thy happy heart devoid of care.
No woe thy bosom did invade.
Save those thine own compassion made,
by pity mov'd ;
You wept, — yet ne'er did sorrow know,
But taught to weep for Other's woe.
by those you lov'd !
And while the tear stood in thine eye,
Or on thy cheek would trembling lie,
it often prov'd ;
That smiles irradiated thy face.
As in the eyes you'd rapture trace,
of those you lov'd.
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90 LADT MOBGAN, HER CABESE,
The gloomy art thou ne'er did'st know,
Of conjuring up i4eal woe,
but sportive roVd ;
Thro' Fancy's brightest, gayest scene,
For happy wer*t thou then I ween,
with those you lov*d I
Gay was thy prattle, gay thy smiles.
Thy infant sports, thy infant wiles,
still unreprov'd ;
By age or chill severity,
Nor frowDS repelling e'er did see,
from those you lov'd !
Full many were thy childish ways,
To charm the dear parental gaze ;
fondly approv*d
Was each faint effort of thy mind.
While to thy little failings blind
were those you lov'd !
Ah ! little maid, how blest the day.
When with the sportive hours, you gay
and careless rov'd
Thro' life ! — alas ! that day is o'er.
Since, Uttle maid, art thou no more
with those you loved I
The experience of heavy aifliction does not seem to
have rendered the breast of Sydney Owenson callous
to trifling trials. We now find her tender heart
bemoaning the death of her favourite lap-dog, "Bell/'
which for " seven long years^^ was the constant com-
panion of our little authoress. The introductory
verse to eight succeeding stanzas, will probably be
considered sufiScient as a specimen : —
Since then thy life's " poor play is o'er,"
And thou cans't live to charm no more
who charmed so well ;
Let me whose hours you oft beguiled.
Who at thy sportive ways oft smiled,
thy virtues tell.
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LITEBABY AND PEBSOKAL. 91
The virtues and beauties of " a Thrush which sung
every evening under the author's windows, during a
summer residence in the country/' are also cordially
recognized and eulogised.
Miss Owenson's little volume of poems lay for a
time unnoticed and unbought ; but the influence of
the Countess of Moira at length prevailed, and innu-
merable persons purchased it in obsequious obe-
dience to her ladyship's earnestly expressed suggestion.
Once tested, the genuineness of the gems oecamev
apparent; their value daily rose in critical estima-
tion ; it' became fashionable to praise them. They
furnished many a languishing boudoir and drawing-
room conversation with a theme which seldom failed
to stimulate ; in the pauses of the Spanish dance, or
the Minuet de la Cour, they were referred to with
other topics of ton. At last the elite of Dublin ex-
pressed a desire to view the casket from whence such
pretty pearls came ; and Sydney Owenson was forth-
with installed on a little throne, in the centre of the
brightest society of the metropolis. Her wit and
vivacity, the nerve with which she swept the strings
of her harp, and the exquisite modulations of her
voice, in accompaniment, charmed widely, and bound
captive many a heart long wrapped in apathy. Local
critics began to recognize ^^ a considerable share of
the poetic faculty" in the authoress's volume ; she
had talents of no mean order. Her fancy was grace-
ful, and her verse flowing and harmonious. They
had great hopes of the young poet, and augured a
second edition for her volume.
Fluent and flowing as was Sydney's pen and
thought, we find that her muse did not always prove
as obedient as might be desired. The capricious
lady— we mean the muse, not Miss Owenson^ — was
at last addressed in the following strain of semi-
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92 LADY MORGAN, HBE CAREER,
petulance, on the occasion of our authoress making a
vain effort to write on a given subject :^-
I swear it by Parnassus mount.
By Hippocranes' inspiring fount;
By Waters of Acidalus,
By sacred streams of lllysus ;
By Helicon, — Castalian rill,
By Agannippe, — Pindus' hill ;
Apollo's laurel, and his lyre,
Melpomene's tears, — Thalia's fire !
By wise Minerva's sagest owl,
By Royal Juno's sacr&d fowl ;
By Ida's love-insjHring air,
Nay, by thy ingrate self I swear ;
Ne'er from this moment to implore
Thy aid or inspiration more ;
Nor sacrifice my youth's short day,
In begging a poetic lay ;
Or wit to scribble song or sonnet.
When I should trim a cap or bonnet ;
Entreat a spark of attie fire,
To animate my languid lyre,
When I as in my sex befitting.
Should take my work or mind my knitting !
For thee what have I not endured,
To scoffs, and taunts, and sneers inur'd ;
By misses for thy favours maui'd.
By masters " learned lady " called !
By all avoided, lest my bite
Should set the simple things to write ;
Whilst thou malignant more than they,
Hath some eccentric notion gay
Shot 'thwart my fancy — nay, I swear.
E'en in the sacred house of prayer,
I gladly seize it, thoughtless wight, \
Forgot I came to pray, not write, [
And in my prayer-book self indite ! )
While firom my lips unconscious fall,
Nor sainted Peter, James, nor Paul;
But mount Parnassus, muses, fire,
Apollo, wit, Ionian choir ;
Invoke no canonized maid.
But Yorick's or Cervantes shade !
Quick shrinks each pious soul away,
While sacred horror and dismay.
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LTTEKABT AND FBBSONAL. 93
Each eye devout as quick inyade,
Cast on the sacrilegious maid ;
And tho' she prayed with might and main,
Alas ! she finds contrition vain ;
Nor credit gains from pious dame.
That you, sad Muse, not she's to blame;
Nor is this all, for oft with spleen
Thou'st darted on me, when IVe been
In solemn convoeation seated
'Midst female sages, who grave treated
On sermons, prudence, faith, and prayer,
Salves, conserves, silks, and china-ware !
Now flirting girls frail conduct chiding.
And now the price of lace deciding;
Now giving scriptural expositions.
Now quoting tradesmen's impKmtions !
Now on blest charity declaim,'
And now traduce a neighbour's &me ; .
Wbile as I solemn, prim, demure.
List' with attention to be sure,
Pop come you with poetic freak.
And on my prim attention break ;
Breathe fire thro* the torbid creature.
And animate each cold fixed feature !
I start, look up, then seize a pen,
Write, smile, gaze round, and write again ;
Then realize the golden thought, ^
And with enthusiasm fraught,
" lo Triumpbe — there's a line
"Will speak me favoured by the Nine !"
With look ecstatic, I exclaim,
And strike amazed each frigid dame ;
O'erwhelmed with fear and consternation.
Straight they convene a consultation ;
Of grandmamas and spinster cousins,
Step-sisters, maiden aunts in dozens ;
With broken sentence, nod, and leer,
'* Where more is meant than meets the ear ;"
In whispers they converse and shew it.
The poor thing's mad, or worse, tum'd poet ;"
Then vow they'd pardon any crime.
In their own girls, but love of rhyme.
Which should it epidemic prove.
Might well affect all those they love ;
And spreading quick the cautioning rumour,
To exile from their presence doom her !
Tet all these evUs I sustain'd.
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94 LADY MOBQAN^ HEB CAEEBB^
Of penecatioQ ne'er complain'd,
As long as thou wouldst kindly pay
A visit in a friendly way.
In this strain our little Poetess proceeds to re-
proach her muse with a tendency to unamiable deser-
tion. She reminds her of the honrs without number
which were snatched from refreshing midnight
slumber, and fervently devoted to her sake and
service. She speats of the youthful joys, "toilette,
trinkets, dress, and toys— the dear short-lived teens
best treasure,'^ — all sacrificed for the muse's sake.
" And yet,'* she adds—
** Ton all these services forget,
Beject n^y incense, and despise
The votive ofTrings I devise ;
On my best invocation frown,
Nor vrith success one effort crown/'
Sydney concludes in a strain of assumed petulance,
forswearing
" ^— book, paper, ink, and pen.
Until ! — ^thon smil'st on me again."
It was often at the most unseasonable moments
that the muse would turn caressingly to Sydney.
Sometimes when in bed at night, wrapt in darkness,
thought, and blankets, a gush of inspiration would
saturate the little Poet's brain. She oft^n drew
down the vengeful indignation of the elder female
members of the household, who could not at all
understand why " Miss Siddy, instead of lying tran-
quilly on her pillow, would suddenly begin mouching
about the house, and fumbling at the well-slacked
kitchen fire,'^ with a dripping tallow candle which
refused to light. Sometimes, Sydney, rather than
disturb the sleeping household, would scrawl hasty
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LIT£RAEY AND PESSONAL. 95
hieroglyphic mems upon a hig school slate which
lay, awaiting the moment of inspiration, at her bed-
side. At other times, when out walking, she would
suddenly desert her companions, and seeking a se-
cluded green field dotted with lambs, would there,
in pastoral peace and purity, woo her muse.
It was not only by the volume of poems already
spoken of, that Sydney Owenson proved herself the
inheritress of her father's idiosyncracies and talents.
We now find her arranging to English words, twelve
of the most beautiful aijd touching melodies, in the
vernacular of her native land, and filially dedicating
the work to Robert Owenson. Prefixed to this very
beautiful collection is an Historical Preface, written
with eloquence and erudition, in which she attributes
the patriotic tone which pervades her writings, to
the national enthusiasm which at an early age she
imbibed from her father.
Some persons may require to be reminded that to
Miss Owenson we are indebted for the charming
Irish ballad of '^ ICate Kearney .'* It first appeared
anonymously as the *' Beardless Boy;'' and at once
became popular. That Miss Owenson would have ,
followed up the series there can be no doubt, had
not Moore, Stevenson, Bunting, Lover and Holden
grasped with avidity at the happy idea of which she
was the parent. Although Bunting, as far back as
1796, gave substantial indications of a tendency to
preserve our national airs, it was not until 1840, that
we find him publishing th^t great body of Melody,
entitled " The Ancient Music of Ireland,^' with which
his name will be for ever bound. Miss Owenson
may be said to have been the original starter of that
happy thought for which Moore has almost always
received the exclusive credit. But in the Preface to
the first edition of his Melodies, he had too much
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96 LADY MOEGAK, HEE CAKEEB^
honoar not to avow that her, " patriotic genius had
been employed on some of our finest airs."
There was a regular scramble for this rich
and profitable idea. Nor was the emulative
race confined to native aspirants. From England
and Scotland came Golman and Campbell^ who
bore oS in triumph Savourneen Deelish, and
**The Exile of Erin.^' Lover found some which
Moore had failed to find — among others, "The AngeFs
Whisper/' and " Rory O^More.^' But rich as was
the harvest which these personages reaped in
the field of Irish music^ we find, from the recent and
successful labours of Dr. Petrie, that those indus-
triously disposed can still glean with profit in the
same field.
Miss Owenson proved herself a real Poetess in this
volume of Irish Melodies. A vivid fancy, with an
imagination rich, natural and warm, sparkled and
glowed in every page. Take, for example: —
Oh teU me sweet Kate, by what magical art
You seduced ev'ry thought, ev'ry wish of my soul ?
Oh teU how my credulous, fond, doating heart,
By thy wiles and thy charms from my bosom was stole.
Oh whence, dangerous girl, was thy sorcery, tell,
By which you awakened love's tear, and love's sigh ;-^
In thy voice, in thy song, lurks the dangerous speU ?
In the blush of thy cheek, or the beam of thy eye ?
Her intense perception of the beautiful in nature
is displayed in the illustrations of the following
little Ballad :
My love's the fairest creature,
And round her flutters many a charm.
Her starry eyes, blue beaming.
Can e'en the coldest bosom warm :
Her lip is like a cherry.
Ripely sueing to be cull'd ;
Her cheek is like a May rose
In dewy freshness newly puU'd.
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LITERAET AND PERSONAL. 97
Her sigh is like the sweet gale,
That dies upon the violet's breast,
Her hair is like the dark mist,
On which the evening sunbeams rest :
Her smile is like the false light
Which lures the traveller by its beam ;
Her voice is like the soft strain,
Which steals its soul from passion's dream.
"Owenson/' says the ^ freeman's Journal' of
May 28th, 1812, in recording his death, *^Owenson
was the best Irish scholar ot his day, and we iriay
perhaps say, the last true Irish musician." These
acquirements and intellectual tendencies have been
perpetuated hereditarily. One well informed on
the subject, writes : '* The parodies of Lady Clarke, in
the Irish vernacular set by Sir John Stevenson, long
formed the delices of musical society in Dublin,
which the author of these lines remembers to have
heard her sing with infinite grace and humour."
This striking hereditary musical taste has been
further instaiiced by Lady Clarke's daughter, Mrs.
Edward Geale, assisting the Marchioness of Down-
shire in forming an Irish Academy of Music.
The critical plaudits to which we have elsewhere
alluded, nerved the tiny girl to renewed exertion.
Mrs. Radcliffe's vigour, as a novelist, had begun to
flag painfully. Miss Porter's " Tuaddeus of Warsaw,^'
and *^The Scottish Chiefs'^ did not appear for some
years later. Miss Edgeworth^s debdt, as a novelist,
had not yet taken place. Clara Reeve, and Miss
Burney were used up. Female romance-writers
were few ; and it seemed to Sydney Owenson that a
favorable open lay before her. In 1802 appeared
'•St. Clair, or, the Heiress of Desmond, a novel, in two
volumes, by Miss Owenson." Every chapter bears,
more or less, trace of a tyro^s hand ; but the book,
nevertheless, possesses, in many passages, a hearty
H
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98 LADY MORGAN^ HEE CABEEE,
racines8 of style, which cheers like the freshness of
morning.
" St. Qair/^ howpver deficient in vigour of style,
and objectionable in some points, is not entitled
to absolute condemnation, insomuch as it seems to
have been undertaken with the motive of writing
down a romantic idea, then prevalent among the
admirers of Continental Literature, namely— that the
passion of Platonic love might subsist between the
sexes without any approach to amatory aflfection.
In order to shew the fatal effects of this romantic
notion, St. Clair is drawn with all the sensibility of
soul and refinement of sentiment with which the
French and German authors of that day loved to
invest their heroes. He is engaged by LoidL — to
superintend the education of his children, and having
proceeded to his lordship's seat in Connaught, St.
Clair meets, for the first time, Olivia, the heroine of
the tale, who resides with her grandfather. Sir
Patrick Desmond, and is betrothed to his relation
Colonel L — . Olivia and St. Clair on li rther acquain-
tance, discover in each other a congeniality of taste,
and reciprocity of sentiment. They commence a
correspondence, and while they imagine they indulge
a Platonic passion only, gradually acquire a real one.
In the meantime. Colonel L — arrives to claim his
bride. Preparations are begun for the nuptials;
the bride's dress is made, but while these and other
matrimonial .arrangements are in progress, Olivia
. and St. Clair meet in a summer house, for the pur-
pose of taking an eternal farewell. The Colonel
surprises them there in each other's arms, and
forces St. Clair to fight, who expiates his sorrows
with his life. OKvia, whose character is damaged,
falls a prey to pulmonary consumption, and the
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LITEEAEY AND PBESONAL. 99
novel concludes with an impressive letter in which
she confesses her errors and explains th«ir cause.
In the topographically descriptive portions of" St.
Clair/^ Miss Owenson embodied much of her Con-
naught experience. An old Sligo lady, in a letter
before us, observes. *^ My brother who was serving
his time with Doctor Henry of Market Street, Sligo,
was a great playgoing young man, and well ac-
quainted with Mr. Owenson. Being a ready
writer, and having a good deal of idle hours in
the doctor's shop, Mr. Owenson got him to
copy Miss Sydney's first novel for the press,
which was illegibly scribbled, and in unconnected
scraps. She commenced the work in Dublin, and
finished it in Sligo. I remember hearing her say
that, when writing ' St. Clair,' she often regretted
seeing the ladies walking out, and in gay conversation,
while she was obliged to stay at home and toil. She
thought once or twice of abandoning it for ever, but
her fether encouraged her to persevere, and by his
encouragement she completed it."
Important after events often hinge on early
trifles. Had not the apothecary's boy alleviated
Miss Owenson's drudgery by transcribing and con-
necting the illegible manuscripts of her tirst novel,
it is probable that in a moment of girUsh fatigue or
impatience, she would have abandoned such laborious
literature for ever.
Greatly to the apothecary's chagrin, who found in
'* St. Clair" a much more agreeable " subject" than
he was wont to handle — Miss Owenson found her-
self competent to construct her second novel without
the aid of the pestle and mortar. " The Novice of
St. Dominick,' appeared in 1804. Its style is fresh
and buoyant almost to puerillity, and the work con-
tains many views to which we do not subscribe, but
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100 LADY MORGAN^ HER CAREER^
the character of De Sorville helps to redeem some of
the imperfections of the tale. The morality of bis
precepts, the persuasive eloquence of his arguments,
and the noble generosity of his character, command
respect. The too obvious effort, however, in the
third and fourth volumes, to spin out the tale to the
utmost possible length, spoils the goAt which its
perusal might otherwise produce. These works were
far from being favorites with Lady Morgan when
time had matured her judgment and style; and ]al-
though bearing unmistakeable evidence of a want of
knowledge of the world, together with great impro-
bability of plot, we find, on consulting some contem-
porary criticisms, that "St. Clair^^ and the "Novice**
were two very popular productions. The society of our
authoress continued to be courted with avidity by
fashionable circles— a further proof of her increasing
prestige and success.
Through Lord Moira's influence, the peasant-poet
Dermody, whom Owehson had so humanely be-
friended, received in 1802, a commission in the
army. But Dermody became a prey to disease, and
died soon after. Shortly before his death, he met
Sydney Owenson for the first time, after a long
absence ; early reminiscences crowded upon him, and
affected him visibly. These feelings partially found
vent in a poetical letter which he sent to Miss
Owenson,
In quoting a few lines we gather a fact :
When first too weak to grasp the laurel hough,
,-?7^^^^^.. I "wove a rosy chaplet for thy biow ;
/fi- '. , y " *^ And, in its various hues, would idly trace,
^ ;^ • ;^: '. ' Some flowery semblance of thy charming fice ;
^/■k/ /-. ^y^ Oft would the sweet seduction of thy smile,
%v^t//?^. 'v Attune my numbers, and enrich my style;
'^tv.i^S ' Whkte'er of fair, or perfect I designed,
Was merely copied from tby form and mind ;
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LITERAHY AND PERSONAL. 101
How oft have I beheld in rapturous trance,
Thy graceful steps adorn the sprightly dance ;
* * * *
Hoarded with pious care within my breast,
• Oh ever let thy dear idea rest ;
There fixed, the silent, secret object be.
Of my poetical idolatry.
Dermody concludes a long poem with :
Waller once more may see his Sydney's name,
Eevived in song, superior, and the same.
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102 LADY MOKGAK^ HER CAREEB,
CHAPTEE IV.
Croker's " Familiar Epistles." — The Scourging Censor lashed in
return.— Sir M. Crofton.— -Tyreragh.— •* The Wild Irish Girl "
hegun. — The Originals from whom the Characters were drawn.
— State of Ireland prior to the puhlication of " The Wild Irish
Girl." — The Search for a publisher. — Panic of Phillips. — John-
son's Generous Offer respectfully declined. — Peter Pindar's
Suggestion. — Atkinson. — Lord Hardwicke. — Sydney Owenson
assailed by the Castle Scribes. — Extracts from the Diatribes
. of M. T.— Defended by a " Son of Ireland."— William Pitt
reads " The Novice of St. Dominick."
In 1804, an anonymous attack upon the ^^ Present
State of the Irish Stage/^ appeared in six Poetical
Epistles, addressed to the then Patentee, Frederick
Jones. Performers, dramatic writers, and every indi-
vidual connected directly or indirectly with the
theatre were subjected by the author to lacerating
lashes of poignant sarcasm and invective. The style,
although able, exhibited traces of a youthful hand :
the endless display of Greek quotations, and classical
lore, savoured of the new fangled learning of a suc-
cessful collegian, wliile the internal evidence was of
a character to convince' the friends of ayoungGalway
man, named John Wilson Croker, that nobody but
he could have penned it. The coteries of cities are,
unhappily, not averse to a brilliant bit of scandal, or
a sparkling slander, and hence the book was eagerly
# read, and what was more to the purpose, bought.
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LITERARY AND PERSONAL. 103
People lagghed and chuckled over the galling per-
sonality of the " Familiar Epistles/' but it was not
laughing gas alone that John Wilson Croker let loose
among the coteries of Dublin. His work was a
deadly shell, propelled with well calculated aim,
which, in exploding, not only wounded many, but
consigned some sensitive hearts to the shroud. The
tomb-stone of the actor, Edwin, in St. Werburgh^s
church»yard, Dublin, records that "his death was
occasioned by an illiberal and cruel attack on his
professional reputation from an anonymous assassin.^'
This was the barbed pen which sixteen years later
stabbed Keats to death, and sought to fasten itself
in Sydney Owenson's heart.
"The Familiar Epistles," became every day
more and more spoken of. Edition after edition
vanished with pantomimic rapidity, and the work has
since held a high place for its acrimonious pith and
point.
No arm but one in Dublin had the courage to
grapple with this formidable assailant of reputations.
In 1804, appeared "A Pew Eetiections" on the work
alluded to, with the following quotation from Shaks-
peare as a motto.
" No might or greatness in mortality,
Can censure 'scape; back wounding calumny,
The whitest virtue strikes. What King so strong,
Can tie the gaU up in the slandering tongue V*
The work was dedicated to Jones by the author,
who added, " 1 am encouraged to present this trifle
to you, as the smallest token of the respect and kind-
ness I feel toward:Jone, whose principal characteristics
are those of being an indulgent and affectionate
parent, and an honourable man.'^ The initials
signed to this dedication are " S. 0," They are
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10^ LADY MOEOAK^ HER CAEERE,
rather unusual initials, and we think they can be
considered applicable to but one person. The cir-
cumstance of Sydney Ovrenson's connection with the
stage, through the parent whom she revered, was
likely to have given her a peculiar interest in the
subject, and fiom the chivalrous character of the
woman, it is not surprising that she should have
been the first to parry, and resent the attack. Some
of her dearest friends were virulently assailed by
Croker. The smile of the eminent tragedienne
Miss Walstein (who had been a theatrical colleague
of Owenson's) was cruelly compared to plating on a
coflRn. ^^She plays the gay parts of Miss Hardy
tolerably,'^ added young Croker, "because she plays
tliem in a mask/^ Mrs. Siddons was satirised in the
same breath, whilst the operatic dramas of Sydney
Owenson's early patron and fast friend, Mr. Atkinson,
were pronounced "a strange collection of stupid and
often indecent vulgarisms on which Sir John Steven-
son threw away some very good music.'^ All this
Miss Owenson is hkely to have resented ; the florid
character of the style reminds us of her early writ-
ings. Some very learned classical quotations are,
it is true, introduced; but Miss Owenson's works
have occasionally contained similar references. The
French citations from La Fontaine, and others of
which the authoress was so fond, are freely introduced,
while the almost identity of many passages* in the
* Take, for instance, the concluding remark, in which the
author declares that " it was not undertaken with the intention of
displaying genius, but merely from the necessity of defending
innocence — a necessity whose dictates I shall be ever proud to
obey, and upon the lemembrance of which I chiefly depend for
indulgence to its many faults from that Public whose generoitty
prevailing over their criticism, will blind them to the execution
while it reminds them of the intent." Does not the style of this
paragraph recall a passage in Lady Morgan's Preface to " Salvator
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LITKBARY AND PEESONAL. 105
acknowledged and unavowed writings of Sydney
Owenson leave little room to doubt that she, and no
one else, wrote the book.
Frederick Jones, soon after, brought forward a
little play of Miss OwenseJn^s entitled '^The First
Attempt^' and gave her up the entire receipts of the
house ; Atkinson wrote a poem on the subject, ap-
pealing to t he public to encourage her play. These
and other circumstances which might be cited suggest
that both considered themselves under some obliga-
tion to the little authoress. Croker's '^JFamihar
Epistles'^ moreover, seem to have left a very clear
impression on Lady Morgan's mind, for, in the
edition of her "Wild Irish Girl,'' pubhshedin 1857,
she particularly refers to some personally sarcastic
poems, which appeared in her young days, and adds,
^* the supposed author of the best and bitterest of these
occasional poems (for which there was no occasion)
the Gentil Bernard of the DubKn Blues was—the
future secretary of the Admiralty and awful editor in
petto of the Quarterly Review, who lisped in numbers
— and the numbers came/^ The authorship of the
^ Reflections'' on Croker's " Famihar Epistles" has
never hitherto been attributed to Miss Owenson,
but there can be, we conceive, no question, that to
her pen its existence is owing. We also rather
think that the origin of Croker's deathless spite
Kosa ?" — i.e. " I now dismiss my first attempt at biographical
writing and commit it to the indulgence of that Public which
is the sole umpire for whose suffrage an author should be solici-
tous." And again in her Preface to *• France/' — " Whilst I thus
endeavour to account for faults 1 cannot excuse, and to solicit the
indulgence of THAT PUBLIC from whom I have never experienjced
severity, &c." Her letter to the Reviewers contains a similar
passage, " I cannot take my. leave of that public to which I
have appealed without offering acknowledgments for its indul-
gencej*
y Google
106 LADY MOBGAN, HEE CAEEBE,
against bis -fair countrywoman, may be dated from
this period.
The author begins by saying that "before examining
' The Familiar Epistles/ I found it to be an entire
contradiction of that caddid inquiry which froui the
familiarity of its title, I w^as led to expect. Hoping
that it would have been answered by some abler hand,
I remained in silent expectation, but alas ! none '
such appearing ; at length, I was induced to take the
task upon myself and trust my ideas to the candour
of the pubhc, rather as a friend of virtue than an
advocate for fame.''
A vigorous argumentative tone pervaded the body
of the work. " It was ever my opinion'' observes
the author, "that criticism consisted in a just investi-
gation into the merits of a performance and not in
a close inquiry of the private character of the indivi-
duals composing such ; 1 did suppose that it was held
as too noble to be perverted to the meanness of per-
sonality, or used but as the cover of abuse. Im-
pressed with this idea, I expected an impartial exam-
ination of ability and talent, and not a minute in-
quiry after vice; — I did expect to hear the actor
censured, but not the man abused ; — I did
expect to see laid down the keen observations of the
man of sense and true judgment, not the gross
language of heated animosity, or the acrimony of
personal hate. Scarce a leaf I opened, but I found
the characters of our performers virulently attacked,
and misrepre.^ented, and the whole tenor of the work,
seemingly designed for no other earthly purpose than
to make them appear hideous in the eyes of a
public, oh whose approbation they must depend for
any success in their arduous profession, and main-
tenance through lile."
Miss WaJ stein, it may be remembered, was, for
Digitized by LjOOQIC
LITERABY AND PERSONAL. 107
some time, a theatric colleague of Owenson^s. It
was evidently a friendly hand, which penned
such lines as these : " Were it only to display in the
language of naked truth the excellencies of this
lady's dramatic character, my task would then he
easy ; but to ward off the ungenerous attack of
seemingly inveterate hatred against female merit
requires something more than the dignified silence
of contempt, or the consciousness of unstained
virtue * * He complains of her performing too
much, and not keeping within the circles of those
characters in which she is allowed to excel ; but this
is not the effect of any ill-timed vanity in her ; it
arises from the want of other actresses to fill these
parts which she obligingly undertakes, and hkewise
as the forfeiture for the refusal of a part is five
guineas, it might not be quite so convenient for Miss
Walstein to* pay that sum every time her own wish
prompted her to refuse playing/'
The third edition of Mr. Croker's work, published
in 1805, condescended to notice the sound and
pertinent "Reflections occasioned by a perusal of
the ' Familiar Epistles/ " Owenson, not having
been on the stage since 1798, was exempted from
the lash with which Croker tortured the various
performers of the Dublin Theatre. Owenson, at
this period, was endeavouring to earn a livelihood by
carrying on the trade of a wine and spirit merchant
in Fleet Steeet, J)ublin.
Throughout the year 1805, Miss Owenson's pen
was not idle. Practice makes perfect, and in trying
her hand on a third novel, she contrived to avoid a
considerable portion of the blemishes of style and
taste which had previously exposed her to adverse
• criticism. A short narrative of the origin and pro-
gress of that highly romantic novel which threw the
Digitized by V^OOQIC
108
LADY MOEGAN, HEE CAREER,
friends of Sydney Owenson into an ecstacy of admi-
ration, may not be irrelevant.
In 1805, she revisited Sligo and the adjacent
scenes of her early joys and sorrows. In tlie barony
of Tyreragh, and the deeply romgtntic shores of the
Western coast of Ireland, beaten by the waves which
roll in unbroken from Jjabrador, Miss Owenson's ima-
ginative mind found ample scope for its musiiigs, at the
most impressionable epoch of human existence. It
is interesting to know that *'The Wild Irish GirF'
was actually written among the scenes, the circum-
stances, and the people it describes. The story
originally made an episode in a ponderous journal,
kept by little Sydney from her school days upwards,
as a means of communing with herself, simply be-
cause she had no one else to commune with, who
understood her, in " her own way/^ The accidents
of remote Connaught cousinship with the family of
Sir Malby Crofton gave her siogular and obvious ad-
vantages. She spent several months under the
hospitable roof of Longford House, and thus gained
opportunities of graphically depicting, not only the
wild and romantic scenery of the surrounding region,
but of studying the graceful person, and endearing
idiosyncracies of Sir Malby's accomplished daughter
Elizabeth, afterwards Mrs. Colonel Norcote of
SHgo. There can be no objection to now announc-
ing the fact that this lady formed the prototype of
Glorvina in " The Wild Irish Giri,V while the ficti-
tious portrait of Glorvina has been said to have sug-
gested the Diana Vernon of *' £ob Roy.'' K mag-
azine paper of 1825, attributed to Sir Charles
Morgan, observes, "In 'The Wild Irish Girl' there is
an air of delightful originality, and it has been
asserted, with some reason, that it was this work
which gave rise to the Scotch novels. The ' great
Digitized byLjOOQlC
LITEEARY AND PERSONAL. 109
trnknown' has said otherwise; but, if Miss Edge-
worth were his model, it is somewhat extraordinary
tliat he has never attempted to imitate her. Her
works are transcripts of the present day— his of the
past. Diana Vernon's resemblance to the Iri:<h chief-
tain's daughter is n^tlier too remarkable in many -
points, to be accidental/'
J^'ather John, the chaplain of the Prince of Cool-
Qvin, was modelled on the character of the then
Catholic Dean of Sligo, Dr. Flynn, "One," observed
Lady Morgan, forty years afterwards, " of those
learned, liberal, and accomplished gentlemen of the
Irish Catholic hierarchy of that day, whom foreign
travel and education, and consequent intercourse
with European society and opinions, sent back to
Ireland for its advantage and illustration; thus
turning the penalties of its shallow and jealous
government into a national benefit !" Lady Morgan
does not seem to know that Doctor Elynn's genius
and virtues led to his elevation in 181*2, to the
Episcopal see of Achonry. He was a man of im-
posing aspect, and of almost giant mould. Sligo,
forty years since, was a stronghold of sectarian
bigotry : and one night, a party of low Orangemen
with passions maddened by a recent debauch, re-
mained at the angle of a road for the purpose of
waylaying the Popish Dean. Dr. Flynn was happily
provided with a blackthorn stick, which he wielded
with such effect that half a dozen of his assailants
measured their length upon the ground. There can
be little doubt that Doctor Flynn also suggested
that good country priest with the continental bow
who treads " the stage of Florence McCarthy .'*
From the legends of the ancient atid once
potential families of Macdermott's of Moylurg,
the most romantic incidents and traditional allusions
Digitized byV^OOQlC
110 LADY MORGAN, HEE CARBEE,
of the story were derived. The name assumed by
the founder of this chivalrous sept was Diamod, or
Macdermott, which as Mr. D^Altou reminds us, signi-
fies '^ The God of War/^
In the Autobiography of A. Hamilton Rowan,
there is an authentic conversation reported between
Lord-Chief-Justice Clonmel and Mr. P. Byrne, Book-
seller of Grafton Street, curiously illustrative of the
unconstitutional terrorism which the executive of
that day systematically exercised over the publishers
of books having a patriotic or liberal tendency.
Mr. Byrne having advertised the Trial of Hamilton
Eowan for pubHcation in 1793, was accosted non-
ofiBcially by the Lord-Cliief-Ju^tice and informed,
'' If you print or pubHsU what may inflame the mob,
it behoves the judges of the land to notice it,^^ aud
again, " Take care, Sir, what you do : I give you this
caution, for if there are any reflections on the judges
of the land, by the eternal G— I will lay you by
the heels/^ The publisher replied, "I have
many thanks to return your lordship for your
caution V'
Such grossly irregular interference of the Irish
executive, soon reduced the publishing trade of
Dublin to a state of almost utter prostration ; and
we are not surprised to hear from Lady Morgan
many years afterwards, that, " At the moment the
'Wild Irish Girr appeared, it was dangerous to
write on Ireland, hazardous to praise her, and
difficult to find a publisher for an Irish tale which
had a political tendency. For -even ballads sung in
the streets of Dublin, had been denounced by go-
vernment spies, and hushed by Castle sbirri ; because
the old Irish refrain of Eiren go Bragh, awakened
the cheer of the ragged, starving audience, who had
much bettier have raised the chorus of ' Eiren go
Digitized by LjOOQ IC
LTTERAEY AND PERSONAL. Ill
Bread/ Graves were then still green, where the
victims of laws, uselessly violated, were still wept
over by broken hearts ; and the bitter disappointment
of a nation's hopes, by the recent and sudden de-
sertion of Pitt, the most powerful champion of
Catholic Emancipation, which gave to ascendency
new power, and sunk Catholicism in deeper despon-
dency, was only slowly yielding to the benign in-
fluence of a new and liberal administration of Irish
afl^airs, during the temporary return to power of the
Whigs, under the vice- royalty of the Duke of Bed-
ford." No work, however, of fictitious narrative,
founded on national grievances, and borne out by
historic fact, had yet appealed to the sympathies of
the general reader, or found?"* its way to the desul-
' tory studies of domestic life. Miss Owenson having
opened communication with Sir R. Philips of St.
Paul's Church-yard, the publisher of her first born
literary bantling, he not only consented to bring out
" The Wild Jrish Girl," but fo pay something con-
siderable for the privilege. Philips, however, had
no sooner examined the work, than a panic filled his
usually impassive temperament. '^The sentiments
enunciated," he said, "are too strongly opposed to
the English interest in Ireland, and I must withdraw
from my original offer." This hitch in the negocia-
, tion raised the Irish blood of the ardent young
novelist to— as she herself said — bog-heat ; she indig-
nantly remonstrated, but all to no efl'ect. The work
was offered to various publishers, and rejected by all
until Mr, Johnson of St. Paul's Church-yard, who
had published the novels of Miss Edgeworth, ofi*er-
ed the delighted and astonished girl three hundred
guineas, with some extra sum upon future edi-
tions for the copyright.
As soon as the M.S. was forwarded to Johnson
Digitized byLjOOQlC
Hi LADY MOEGAX> HER CABBER,
his neighbour, Sir R. Philips, hearing of the cir-
cumstance, became a prey to professional remorse
and jealousy, and having brought some local and
trade influences to bear upon Johnson, he urged
his prior claim to the ''Wild Irish GirP with
such force, that he absolutely succeeded in rescu-
ing and regaining her. The original title of the
book was " the Princess of Inismore f^ but Doctor
Wallcott, better known as Peter Pindar, having
obligingly stood literary sponsor, strongly advised
Sydney Owenson to give her volume the epithet by
which it has since been so widely and favourably
known. "From that moment,^^ recently observed
Lady Morgan, in noticing the circumstance, "the
author prit son parti, and in selecting Celtic heroes
for her Irish tales, and the public^s delectation, she
stuck to Saxon publishers for her private interests?.
The O'Donnels, the O'Briens and the O'Flaherties
were fancy men; but the Philipses, the Longmans,
and the Colburns have been her cavalieri pa*
gantu'
" The Wild Irish Girl,'* did not become imme-
diately popular in London, but it soon crossed the sea
to that native region, of which it was so racy, and
in a short time few Dublin drawing-rooms were
without it. To the silent study, also, this little tale
became no stranger. Many masculine minds,
fatigued beneath the weight of daily accumulating
legal lore, sought "The Wild Irish Girl" for relaxa-
tion, and although they at first took it up merely in
the hope of enjoying a laugh at Miss Owenson's
romance, and possibly at her expense, they soon
found eye and heart rivetted to the page by subtle
political argument. There had been a long and
painful pause in the once uninterrupted flow of
Irish national Literature ; the fire of Emmet's
Digitized by LjOOQ IC
LITEEARY AND PBESONAL. 118
patriotism had been extinguished in his own blood.
The rush of his eloquence, which continued even on
the scaffold, had been cut short by the axe. Moore
had not yet devoted his genius to the poetry of
politics, nor sung the wrongs of Ireland to her own
touching melodies, 'Hhus awakening sympathies,^'
as Lady Morgan herself said, " which reason could
not rouse, and making the ear a passage to the heart
and understanding." Doctor Doyle and Sheil, were
still at school, Davis was not born, the outburst of
O^Conneirs wrathful eloquence had not yet rever-
berated through the land. The Catholic Association
was yet to awaken public opinion from the torpor of
reiterated disappointment and hope deferred. It had
not yet allayed the pangs of iespair, nor accustomed
the dull ear of a powerful oligarchy to the clanking
of penal chains, or to the voice of remonstrance !
A tempest of violent misrepresentation and rancour
had long raged unchecked against Cathohc interest:?.
It became fashionable to exult in the violation of the
treaty of Limerick, and to sneer down the just claims
of the Catholics. Many highly cultivated intellects
proved not exempt from the political contagion.
The mind of the ifight Hon. George Ogle author of
*' Molly Asthore," and *' Bannows Banks,'' became so
sadly warped that we find him in 1802 coarsely assert-
ing " a papist would swallow a false oath as easily as
I would a poached egg." Miss Owenson's godfather
Ned Lysaght urged Mr. Coyle, a Eoman Catholic, to
challenge the Privy Councillor. Four shots having
been interchanged without effect, Lysaght comr
pelled Ogle to write an apology on the crown of
his hat. This was among the first efforts made
by the long down-trodden Catholics of Ireland to
regain their feet, and to wrest the scourge from the
grasp of their tormentors.
I
Digitized byLjOOQlC
114 LADY MORGAN, HEE CAEEER,
The iempest of Orange calumny was at its height
when " The Wild Irish Girl/^ bounded airily into
the midst of it. Her tiny voice was heard above the
storm, she appealed to reason, and reason fell captive
before her !
Joseph Atkinson, M.R.I.A., one of the early
patrons of Sydney Owenson^s youthful genius, read
" The Wild Irish Girl," with feelings of singular
Eride and pleasure. In the fullness of this feeling
e threw off the following complimentary poetic
address to Miss Owenson. We are unwilling to
omit a line of verses written with such force, beauty,
and truth. Critics of the present day will probably
declare that the latter ennobling characteristic is
hardly applicable to Atkinson's judgment on tlie
crude novels of '' St. Clair,'' and '' The Novice ;" but,
as we already observed, they were strangely popular
at the time. No one laughed more heartily at their
undisciplined and puerile romance than Lady Morgan
herself, as soon as experience of the world, and ample
mental culture, had i^ndered sound her thought
and style.
Whilst you with genius, and with patriot fire
The love of Erin in our hearts inspire,
Combine tradition with historic lore,
To prove her glorious deeds and worth of yore,
Opr time shall hail you champion of her cause,
And future ages sanction our applause.
** St. Clair " first deckt you with a laurel crown,
«* The Novice " next bestow'd more high renown ;
" The Irish Girl " a triple wreath shall give.
And, like our shamrock, ever-blooming live !
A nation's gratitude shall twine the band
To grace your temples, and your fame expand !
While we with sympathizing souls bewail
The prince of Inismore's pathetic tale.
Thus while you rescue Erin's ancient race
From prejudice, contempt, and false disgrace,
may the offspring of her present days
Aspire to emulate the worth you praise,
Digitized byLjOOQlC
LITERARY AXD PERSONAL.^ 115
While Education, nursed by Freedom's smile,
Spread Arts and Science thro' this favourite isle,
And may the genial scene your fancy paints
Descend from Heav*n to bless the Land of Saints !
And as in rapture o'er your Harp we dwell,
Which you, like fair Glorvina, tune so well !
And hear a voice like her's that sweetly sings,
Warbling responsive to the minstrel strings —
And whilst we trace in this accomplish'd maid
The taste and science former times displayed.
Her filial love, her virtues so correct.
Born to secure esteem and fond respect.
We can no longer doubt the picture true,
For sure Glorvina lives revivM in you ;
And to complete the moral story told,
May you another Mortimer behold !
The Castle scribes seem to have speedily received
instructions to raise a reactionary shout, and fling
ridicule upon « The Wild Irish Girl/' The Viceroy,
Lord Hardwicke, was a mild and moderate man,
whose only weakness consisted in sometimes suffering
Lord Castlereagh, the Lord Chancellor Eedesdale,
and other virulent opponents of Catholic Emancipation
to interfere somewhat irregdlarly with the Govern-
ment of Ireland.
The "iVeeman's JournaF' with other leading
Dublin newspapers of this period were in the habit
of receiving large sums from the Government, for the
insertion of verbose proclamations which flowed
almost uninterruptedly from the Castle : and although
the 'Freeman' had popular tendencies, its policy, owing
to the circumstance alluded to, occasionally vacillated
until the successive editorial regimes of Messrs.
Staunton, and Lavelle placed it upon a steady basis
of principle. Shortly after the publication of " The
WUd Irish Girl,'' the first of a series of clever and
insidious letters against it and the authoress were
prominently inserted by the editor of the " Freeman's
Journal," a gentleman whom Watty Cox and Dr.
I 2
Digitized by VjOOQIC
116 LADY MORGAN, HER CAREER,
Brennan frequently satirised under the name of
''Con, the Daggerman/' Brennan used, monthly,
to favour his readers with extracts from ''Con's
Diary'* such as
** Rose at six, and cleaned my shoes
Miss Walstein's chariot did abuse.
Wrote two hours against the town.
Five men's honest fame run down.
Dressed in black, and breeches satin,
fn the ' Freeman,' slandered Grattan." &c.
The writer signed himself M. T. : but this
was probably one of the many of the letters
pseudonyme which the late John Wilson Croker
used to employ. As the foremost writer of that
party which Miss Owenson had trenchantly
attacked and exposed, Mr. Croker was very
likely to have retaliated upon her in his own fa*-
vourite fashion of anonymous slashing-criticism.
Very wily means were resorted to, in order to
obscure the attractive brightness of Miss Owenson's
youthful genius, and to damage her fame and name,
m the estimation of even her own political friends.
The organ of Miss Owenson^s own party was, there-
fore, triumphantly selected as the medium for dis-
seminating a series of virulent, implacable, and ex-
tremely clever diatribes against " The Wild Irish Girl*'
and its gifted author. Under date, December 15, 1806,
we find the first of these elaborate productions on re-
cord. Her assailant proceeded, in true legal fashion,
first, to read the indictment, and then to enlarge
upon it. *' I accuse Miss Owenson,'' he said, '' of
having written bad novels, and worse poetry —
volumes without number, and verses without end.
Nor does my accusation rest upon her want of
literary excellence. I accuse her of attempting to
vitiate mankind — of attempting to undermine mo-
rality by sophistry, and that under the insidious mask
• Digitizedby VjUUV It:
LITERARY AND PERSONAL. 117
of virtue, sensibiKty and truth/^ A column followed of
which the reader has had a sample. On January
2iid, 1807, we find M. T. returning to the charge, and
with two columns more, seeking to overwhelm Miss
Owenson utterly. He also endeavours to weaken,
by a flippant paragraph of anticipation, the species
of retaliation which his attack on Miss Owenson
would probably provoke. "I wiU be accused of
having attacked with coward pen, a helpless; unpro-
tected female, of the atrocious attempt to injure
infant fame and delicate sensibility — every eye wiU
shed a crystal tear for the martyred authoress. I
will be abused with all the elegant lavishness of
sorrow, and all the fashionable volubility of woe —
I will be impeached in every sigh, and sentenced in
every whisper.^^ After much *^ make-ready — present
— tire,^^ to this effect, M. T. then proceeds to dis-
charge his volley. ^^In this lady^s productions I
view the most dogmatical self-opinion, the most
menacing array of contradiction, laying down rules
with the imperative mandate of a law giver/^ and
again," I call upon the parental or the appointed guard-
ians of youth, I require them to peruse the work,
and then pronounce their unequivocal judgment on
its merits. If they find one page which will act
towards the increase of moral rectitude, one volun-
tary contribution to virtuous feeling, or uncontamin-
ated truth, I will not only qualify my assertions
with doubt, but retract them with denial."
M. T. foresaw that Miss Owepson would not be
without defenders, but he soon found that he had
failed to anticipate a tithe of the retaliation to which
his ungenerous conduct exposed him. On January
3rd, a writer, under the signature of *^ a Son of
Ireland" entered the lists with him. " I have always
observed," he wrote " that in proportion as genius or
merit of any sort happens to prevail, envy and ig-
♦ Digitized by ^^JiJOy It:.
118 LADY MORGAN, HEE CAREER,
norance take the alarm : foolishly supposing, that by
' waging war with distinguished characters, they ac-
(juire, at least, a reflected reputation. And I have
likewise observed that in men of contracted minds,
there ever lurks a secret and narrow jealousy of
those ladies, whose studies and superior understand-
ings^ have procured them the approbation of the
learned, and the esteem of the wise. Conscious of
his inferiority, but unwilling to acknowledge it, the
puny pretender to wit is prompt to undervalue the
talent th^t can detect, and, if necessary, expose his
insuificiency." "The Son of Ireland,^' whom we
suspect to have been Charles Kendal Bushe, liken-
ed Miss Owenson^s assailant to the angry Arab, who
in hurling a pebble at a pyramid, confessed the ele-
vation of the object and tlie imbecility of his own
arm.
" It is not with genius only,^^ he continued, " that
M. T. is at war. The morality of our young but in-
structive novelist, gives him unpardonable offence :
and 'The Wild Irish Girr he will send to the House
of Correction, where she is to be stripped and scourged
for presuming to inculcate the moral of benevolence,
{^nd the extinction of sectarian differences.^ * But
before M. T. had proceeded to question the morality
of others, it had been but decent in him to examine
his own. That heart cannot be perfect, which would
rob genius of its fair reputation, and industry of its
honorable rewards. M. T. should have recollected
that Miss Owenson has the important charge of some
young ladies whose education is committed to her
care, that her morality as much as her genius is one
of the roads which lead to her fame as a writer, and
an instructress of youth."^ ^' The Son of Ireland"
in his concluding remark, somewhat uninten-
* In the ** Freeman" of January 6th, 1807, appears a little
paragraph from Miss Oweuson, mentioning that « The gentleman
* Digitizedby VjUUV It:
LrrEllARY AND PERSONAL. 119
tionally bore evidence to the indelibly favourable im-
pression, which even one interview with Sydney
Owenson rarely failed to produce. "I never but
once was in her company : nor does she at this moihent
know that I am defending her from as feeble an
adversary as ever I remember to have encountered.
But after what I have written, should M. T (if indeed
he be a man) renew his attack on the lady, or notice
me in your paper, I shall consider and brand him
as the incorrigible enemy of Female genius. He
should remember that she is a woman, and has a
claim, if not to his politeness, at least upon his
humanity — that while the gallantry of an Irishman
is ever proportioned to his strength, the unkindness
of M. T. proclaims his impotence : that Miss Owen-
son has bpen her own, and only tutor, and that her
opportunities for study have been few and limited —
veiy unequal to those academic advantages which
men alone can attain.^^
M. T. seemed to have winced very uneasily under
the rebuke administered by '^The Son of Ireland,*'
but instead of disarming the critic^s hostility, it rather
inflamed his spleen the more. That he wrote a
private letter to the '' Freeman's Journal^' breathing
sentiments of irritation, and injured innocence, we
infer from the following notice to Correspondents :
" M. T. (we shall only inform him) will have a fair
opportunity of recriminating on Miss Owenson."
This little paragraph ehcited from the friends of
the authoress, a number of expostulations and re-
monstrances with which they continued for several
days to pursue the luckless editor of the ' Freeman/
who now discovered that he had involved himself in
somewhat of a difficulty. On January 9th, he writes :
who so kindly became her advbcate must have been misinformed
when he says that she is an instructress of youth in the accepta-
tion of the word."
Digitized byV^OOQlC
120 LADY MOEGAN, HER CAREER,
" Do the defenders of this lady really imagine that we
are inimical to her interests and her fame, because
we receive strictures upon her productions. They
are wrong ; we neither know the lady nor her con-
nections—nor do we desire to know them— we never
read any of her novels, nor do we purpose to read
them. The lady may be respectable, and from the
sphere in which she is said to move, we do not question
it J her novels may be excellent, but of her excellence
we do not pretend to judge." These remarks not
being strong enough, the editor on reflection, added :
*' From what we have collected in conversation, we
are inclined to give her ample credit for a very large
share indeed of merit as a novelist, and as a moral
and excellent woman. Let this satisfy some anxious
inquirers ; but they are extremely misguided if they
think that any idle bluster or impertinent swagger
shall induce us to withhold a single line."
On January 17th, M. T. returned to his unworthy
labour, and with considerable irony went on to
taunt " The Son of Ireland" for having dared to
place his shield between Miss Owenson and her
assailant. "There never was a composition," he
wrote, ^' which bore so little the character of reply.
Indeed, it seems to me as if the author was undeter-
mined which side of the ques^tion he ought to take,
or what line of augument he should pursue; some-
times abusive: then conciliating — in one sentence
defying my wrath — in another mendicant for my
pity — in short, Sir, were it not that the public
might misconstrue silence into assent, I should have
passed over this silly epistle without notice or com-
ment.^^ The anonymous Critic proceeded to wield
his cutlass pen with a vigour strongly suggestive
of a Quarterly Reviewer in the days of the old Tory
regime ; and after having given expression to a
tissue of acrimonious criticism, longer than a leader
Digitized by ^^J^JOy It:
LITERABT AND PERSONAL. 121
of the "Times'' or a review in the '^Athenseum/' M. T.
concluded. '^ Let them beware, unpalatable as ray
former communications maj have been, the succeed-
ing ones may acquire some additional acidity. I will
pursue the even tenor of my way regardless of scurillity
and defying abuse. Conscious of the purity of the
motives by which I am actuated, I will not recede
from the prosecution of this undertaking, until I
shall have convinced the public of the conectness of
my original assertion as to the tendency of Miss
Owenson's works. I will examine impartially, and
argue dispassionately. If I err, I will acknowledge
error, but no threat shall have power to frighten me
into silence while I can render up my humble mite
to virtue, by pointing oUt vice concealed under her
trappings, with the semblance of feeling and the
mimicry of truth.''
" These animadversions," said Lady Morgan long
after, in alluding to the circumstance, *' must have
placed me under the ban of social and literary pre-
sumption for ever, but for the timely championship
of some of my gallant and liberal countrymen."
"The 'Wild Irish Girl," however, was buoyed up
into notice by the very means taken to sink it. The
Bev. Richard Frizelle, in the very amusing local satire
published by him in 1807, entitled "The Law
Scrutiny or Attorney's Guide," furnishes a conclusive
illustration of this remark. " For two or three days,"
he writes, " I found considerable difiBculty to get
the ' Freeman's Journal' (the paper I usually read)
from my wife and daughters, who, while it was
filled with election advertisements and French Bul-
letins, surrendered it to my exclusive perusal. * Let
me see,' said I, *what "is this that occupies your
attention?' and they pointed out a letter signed
M. T. I read it, and then for the first time determined
to read the book it calumniated. On an impartial
Digitized by^^JC^Uy It:
122 LADY MORGAN, HEE CAREEK,
perusal of both, I was certain of one of two
things, viz. either that Miss Owenson herself abused
the work to expedite the sale (which however stood
in need of no such artifice) or that my Lord C — t — h,
and the Right Hon. Mr. F employed a hireling
scribbler to damn a work which, notwithstanding
all his Lordship did to degrade his country, had the
impudence to exhibit in its pages the ancient res-
pectability, consequence and splendour of the Irish,
nation, and to throw impediments in the way of Mr.
P , to banish from the land the only faithful
animal it seems to contain. My first opinion pre-
ponderated, till a second or third of these letters,
descending to personal invective, completely banished
it and left the last impressed on my conviction.'^
The influential parties to whom the Reverend
Richard Frizelle alludes, were the notorious Viscount
Castlereagh, chief extinguisher of the Irish Parlia-
ment, and the Right Hon. Mr. Foster who had
fallen into some popular odium by imposing a
tax upon dogs. Mij^s Owenson had been from
her earliest youth, — when "Bell*' was her constaiit
companion — a warm admirer of the canine tribe,
and she eloquently resisted the attempt to extirpate
it.
If the editor of the " Freeman'* gave insertion to
the insidious letters of M. T., he had the manliness
to throw open his columns to every species of
defence, which the friends of Miss Owenson felt
disposed to ofl'er on her behalf. But it is an old re-
mark that no matter with what power slanders may be
refuted, a portion of the dirt is certain to adhere, and
there can be no doubt that from this moment many
persons adopted an impression unfavourable to
Miss Owenson which was never afterwards efl^aced.
The next champion whom we find entering the
lists in the cause of " The Wild Irish Girr is Dr.
Digitized by V^OOQ IC
LITERARY AND PERSONAL. 123
Hoadley of St, Stephen^s Green, Dublin. ''I am an
old fellow/^ he writes, "and have perhaps some
old fashioned notions, but still, I think, I can dis-
tinguish between right and wrong, and as M. T^s
letter appears to me to be peculiarly improper, you
will allow me to trouble you with a few observations
upon it. The lady is the daughter of an old friend of
mine ; you may think therefore with what feeling I
re,ad any animadversions upon her works. I im-
mediately sent to purchase them, and while the
servant Was absent, my sister Bridget anU I considered
the letter attentively. She would have '^ M. T.'^ to
stand for malicums thrash, because, she said, she
knew the lady perfectly well whose unaffected
elegance of manners, and amiable suavity of dis-
position rendered her at once interesting and agree-
able, and whose superior and uncommon charms
of person attracted unusual admiration. You know,
.Sir, how women will talk. For my part, I thought
M. T. were the initials of Moses Tomkins, who was
convicted* some time ago of uttering treasonable
expressions. How you. Sir, could insert such a
clumsy and malignant farrago, how you could suffer
the lady^s name to be placed in large roman charac-
ters as a title to such ribaldry, is truly astonishing.
But everything is changed since my time. I recol-
lect when a regard for truth, and a respect for the
sex, were principles very generally diffused; but
now they are lost— extinguished in the chaotic revo-
lution which has not ouly survived the aspect of
politics and war, but even changed our manners,
and subverted our morals." Dr. Hoadley, in con-
clusion, challenged the world to examine Miss Owen-
son^s writings, . and defied them to find
** One immoral, one corrupted thought,
One line which, dying, she could wish to hlot.''
Digitized by VjOOQIC
124 LADY MORGAN, HER CAREER,
One of Miss Owenson^s friends had made the
assertion, that the last book perused by William Pitt in
the course of the long period of prostration which pre-
ceded his death was " The Novice of St. Dominick/''
This M. T. indignantly denied. *' The last hours of
the great man's memorable existence,^' he said^
^^ were spent in acts of devotion, in christian peni-
tence and consolatory prayer, in appealing with
the confidence of virtue for mercy to that God
whose dictates he never ceased to obey.'' Giffard's
'^Life of Pitt," however, had not then revealed (page
806) that whenthe Bishop of Lincoln went to the dying
statesman's bedside, and requested leave to read
prayers, he replied, that he had neglected prayer too
much to have any ground for hopmg in its efficacy
on a death-bed.
A pmniing-prop next came to the support of
Sydney Owenson's '^sinking reputation /" On January
19, lb07, appeared some doggerel lines headed '^Ad-
vice to M. T."
I
Emptyy why declare your name
Th' initials were so near the same,
That Hwas impossible to doubt
Although three letters you left out.
When you attack this author lass
Your arguments perhaps might pass
For reasoning sound, were it not known
The source from whence the venom's flown.
The declaration of M. T. that his analysis of Miss
Owenson's claims to public favour, would be con-
ducted i!i a manner strictly " dispassionate and im-
partial," was very naturally received with suspicion.
A writer, under the signature of J. L. — probably the
subsequently famous *' Honest Jack Lawless" —
wrote : "Her works have been the subject of public
disquisition, and with the public it reujains to judge
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LITERARY AND PERSONAL. 125
-whether the criticism of M. T. will be ' dispassionate
and impartial / let him divest himself of all personal
prejudice before he enters on a task which will be
submitted to the strictest scrutiny, and on which de-
pends his fate ; whether in undertaking it he will be
found actuated by the laudable motives of a philan-
thropist, or become liable to the detection of being a
slanderer of private reputations/^
The ill-natured critic, having met more resistance
than he had bargained for, would seem to have been
somewhat at a loss to determine what tactics next to
pursue. He had exhausted his quiver of poisoned
arrows, and must needs make some delay in order to
replenish it. During this interval, the editor of the
" Freeman ^^ reprinted the entire of what M. T. had
previously written against Miss Owenson, but con-
tinued, as before, to give her the benefit of every ar-
gument and retort which the friends of the authoress
thought fit to offer.
On January 23rd, appeared a long letter, profess-
ing to have been written by a perfectly impartial ob-
server of the controversy, but which contained more
than one passage suggestive of the suspicion that the
writer may have been briefed by Miss Owenson her-
self. The following extract from Voltaire heads the
letter. How fond the authoress always was of quot-
ing Voltaire, we need not remind the reader. ** Ces
petits livres de critique, ces brochures periodiques ou
des hommes incapables de rien produire, denigrent les
productions des autres, — je les compare h certains
raoucherons, qui vont deposer leurs oeufs dans le
derriere des plus beaux chevaux, mais cela ne les
empeche pas de courir." The writer then proceeds
to address " Mr. Editor.'^
" I am a young fellow about town, and Fate or
Fortune (for I must not use so old-fashioned a phrase
Digitized byV^OOQlC
126 LADY MORGAN, HER CAREER,
as Providence) having placed me above the actual
necessity of earning my bread by the sweat of my
brow, I kill time (Fashion forbids me to say I employ
it) in a desultory pursuit of literature, and in the
conversation of a few friends, as unreflecting, as eccen-
tric, and as indolent * as myself. Now, you are to
know. Sir, that my friends and I have been egregi-
ously edified by certain strictures on the literary off-
spring of Miss Owenson, which have appeared in
your paper, under the signature of M. T. This mo-
dern Aristarchus having conceived a notion, that the
aforesaid offspring were not altogether so well behaved
as might be wished, has subjected tiiem to the pains
and penalties of critical chastisement, with such seve-
rity, that verily my bowels of compassion were moved
towards those unfortunate objects of his wrath, more
especially, as I have some small reasons, which in-
duce me to suspect that they are not altogether so
culpable as he may imagine/^ The letter went on to
say of M. T. that ^^ he appeared to be a writer much
above mediocrity in talents, and information, but,
perhaps, below it in taste,^' and concluded with,
"admitting that ray opinion of her works was the
same as that of M. T., I fear that I should have re-
tained so much of the spirit d'un preux chevalier, as
to sacrifice the character of a critic to the feelings of
a gentleman/^
Another friend of Miss Owenson^ s, less courteous
to her antagonist, adroitly quoted, at his expense,
some pertinent remarks of old Chaucer.
** Ne ever Knight so bold, ne ever Dame
So chast and loyaU lived, but he would strive,
With forged cause, them falsely to defame :
Ne ever thing so well was doen alive
But he with blame would blot, and of due praise deprive.''
M. T. at last broke that silence which had seemed
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LITERARY AND PERSONAL. 127
SO conclusively expressive of the exhausted condition
of his quiver of points. The journal in question, we
should have said, was a daily publication, and when,
day after day, M. T. appeared not, it may well be
supposed that the friends of Miss Owenson inter-
changed numerous significant nods at his expense.
" After the lapse of some time,^^ he observes, on
February 2nd, ^' I now come forward with the con-
tinuation of my remarks upon Miss Owenson^s
'^ Wild Irish Girl," and with my critical appetite not
a little sharpened by the acrimonious strictures which
some of the lady^s friends have bestowed upon me
with such profuse liberality. They invoked the
Muses to aid their cause, and an auxiliary hobbled
into print with its property of lame rhymes and de-
fensive dulness.'' The reader, in sparing us the
labour of transcribing more, will spare himself the
drudgery of wading through a painfully malignant
and verbose diatribe. M. T. had neither pith nor
point, but rioted in an abundance of sweeping asser-
tion unsupported by proof. There are always plenty
of ill-«iatured people who love to see their neighbours
vilified ; and on the following day we find the letter
of M. T. reprinted in the " Freeman'^ for their gra-
tification, or behoof. A few stings were added by
way of postscript, and the reader is informed that
"the immortal Ossiau is satisfactorily proved by
Miss Owenson to have been of real unadultered Hi-
bernian lineage, and a personage who was as little
acquainted with Scotland as Macpherson was with
truth.^' This fact has been since established.
On February 4th, 1807, another champion on Miss
Owenson's side sprang into the arena and grappled
with M. T., of whom he said that however deficient in
other critical requisites, he possessed at least the
acidity of a critic. The writer dated his able letter
Digitized by LjOOQ IC
12S LADY MOEGAN, HEE CAEKEE,
from ''Lisburn/' and was probably one of the
Crossleys of Lisbum, with whom Miss Owenson was
so intimate. Speaking of ^^ The Wild Irish Qui"
the writer said : ''It displays so much knowledge
of the literature and antiquities of her native country
that it astonishes us while we read. By her glowing
pencil our national character is drawn and displayed
in its proper light. To wrest her native country
from the opprobrium which has been laid on it -by il-
liberality and prejudice seems to have been the task this
young Patriot alloted to herself, which as far as could
be accomplished by genius she has performed. The
performance adds another wreath to her laurels, and
entitles her to the gratitude of her country. This,
Sir, is my dispassionate and unbiassed opinion of
the works of Miss Owenson. Her genius and taste
I admire ; I consider her as one of the brightest orna-
ments of our Isle, and one from whose future works
(when a few years have given maturity to her judg-
ment) much may be expected. M. T. may continue
his strictures with the additional acidity he threatens.
The discerning no doubt will see that he is either
blinded by prejudice, or writes from a worse motive ;
and the most heedless may see that in the very be-
ginning of his criticism, he perverts the sense and
brings forth meanings which Miss Owenson could
never have thought of, much less invented : this, when
he is so disposed he may do with any other work
from the highest production of human intellect
down to the lowest. Miss Owenson need not expect
to escape censure. It has ever been an attendant
on genius. It is a tax paid to the public for being
eminent.'^
This was followed by " a Familiar Epistle to Miss
Owenson from au old friend with a new face.^^ The
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LITEBAEY AND PERSONAL. 129
•
. letter was a long one^ but the motive rather thau
the matter deserves respectful recognition.
" Lady, what wonders in your works we view
All wit ere fancied, or all learning knew.
Dress, love, and morals grace thy g;lowing page,
At once instruct and ornament the age."
^he is further assured that "in books or diamonds
equally jou shine/' and that though, " great in the
drama/^ she was greater in the Court.
** What carping critics then shall dare to say
Your works are follies fleeting as the day-^
Ephemeral heauties — or inconstant sense.
Vain without learning, without vnt pretence ;
Thy prose bomhastic, and thy verses lame,
The one high sounding, and the other tame.''
Eefering to M. T. the writer said : —
" Could he have cavill'd, if he first perus'd
Or scanned those morals none but Idm accused.''
Although " The Wild Irish GirP was attacked on the
ostensible pretext of its errors of style and taste.
Miss Owenson and, her friends well knew that politi-
cal enmity and alarm were really the main springs
which opened the flood gates of critical invective
upon her. The true motive for this savage onslaught
was not avowed, but every body of ordinary penetra-
tion saw it. The liberal sentiments expressed in " The
Wild Irish Girl^^ filled the Orange Ascendancy party
with alarm and revenge.
The malignant and mysterious critic who had
rushed into the field, determined to snufip out the
light of Miss Owenson^s fame, genius and patriotism,
found himself, at last, completely foiled in his object.
The dagger which he aimed at Miss Owenson's
reputation was driven back, by superior strength,
K
Digitized byLjOOQlC
130 * LADT HOBGAN^'HEB CAREER^
•
. upon his own. The peculiar force and virulence
of his style was, as the reader has seen, speedily
reccgnised; and, gathering up his various missiles
of destruction, we find him retreating, crest-fallen
but prudentially, from the arena. Por six weeks
subsequently we obtain no glimpse of M. T. in the
daily columns of the " Freeman's Journal.^'
We trust that in reproducing so many extracts from
this long forgotten controversy, we have not taxed
the patience, of any reader. In writing the history
of Lady Morgan's struggles with critics, and achieve-
ments in spite of them, it became our duty to advert,
at some length, to this, the first and most wily attempt
to extinguish her for ever. Considerable delay at-
tended our efiorts to discover the documents in
question ; a peculiar interest, beyond doubt, attaches
to them, and the extracts are now transcribed for the
first time.
By way of postscript it may, perhaps, be remarked
as a singular fact, that there hardly ever yet ap-
peared a novelist, no matter how austerely moral in
his aim, who had not to bear critical taunts on the
score of immorality. Even Sir Walter Scott was
not exempt. An anonymous work published by
Hatchard in 1820, labours to prove that the ^'author
of the Waverley Fictions has 'not made the inte-
rests of religion and morality any part of his plan
in the numerous volumes he has given to the world.''
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UXKBAST AND P1CB80NAL, 131
CHAPTEE V.
Miss Oweoson patronised in high quarters. — Public demonstration
in her honour. — Becomes a Dramatist. — ^The Prologue. —
M. T. again.— Beats a Retreat.— *< Mr. Owenson's Night."—
Curran, Grattan, Bushe, Plunket. — Great success of '' The Wild
Irish GirL'' — Patriotic Sketches. — The authoress in Ck>nnaught.
— ^Thady Connellan. — The Lay of an Irish Harp. — Miss
Owenson appeals on behalf of the Poor. — ** Sweep— Sweep.'' —
** Ida of Athens.'' — Miss Owenson sets aside the Decision of a
Judge and Jury. — Stanmore Priory. — The Missionary. — Mar-
riage of Sydney Owenson. — ^A Romance of Real Life.— Sir
Cluirles Morgan.— Death of Robert Owenson. — Sir Arthur
Clarke. — ** O'DonneL" — Correspondence with Monk Mason.
Grj^at as was Sydney Owenson's triumph at the re-
treat of hex assailant^ it had yet to reach its fullness.
The short-lived but memorable government of the
Duke of Bedford then held sway in Dublin Castle.
His arrival had rekindled that hope in the hearts of
the Irish Catholics, which had been so long delayed
and so often crushed out. The good Viceroy and
his Duchess heard of the unworthy attempt to write
down Miss Owenson, and in conjunction with the
liberal Lord Chancellor Ponsonby, and the humane
Commander of the Forces, Lord Harrington^ they
resolved to sustain her by a public mark of patrqni^
and regard. The Countess of Harrington and Lady
AsgiU had previously shewn Miss Owenson much
coiutesv and attention^ but a more demonstrative
K 2
/ Digitized by Google
13^ LADY MORGAN, HER CAREEE,
proof of their friendly feeling was now determined
upon. Nearly half a century afterwards. Lady Mor-
gan, in recurring to this period of her life, wrote :
" The anonymous attacks levied during many months,
against ^The Wild Irish Girl' in the Irish journals,
led at last to a public testimony in the author^s be-
half, on the part of these her first and best friends ;
and an impromptu little drama styled ' The First
Attempt,' (as it was her last in that line,) was writ-
ten and produced at the Theatre Eoyal, Dublin, at
the express wish of her kind supporters, who, one
and all, from the representative of majesty downward,
attended the first representation, to evince to an anti-
Irish faction, their determined protection of Irish
talent, however moderate/'
When we consider Eobert Owenson's theatrical
passion and antecedents, it is almost surprising that
she who possessed so much hereditary taste and talent,
had not before tried her hand at a play. In the
"Dublin Evening Post'' of February 28th, 1807, we
read — '^ Miss Owenson's opera is in a forward state of
rehearsal and will shortly appear before the public.
Mr. T. Cooke, who has on so many former occasions
contributed to the public entertainment, has harmo-
nised the music of our fair countrywoman." The
editor of the " Freeman," observing that the general
feeling was in her favour, now espoused the cause of
Miss Owenson with considerable devotion. On
Marph 11th, 1807, he announces to the public that
Miss Owenson has paid £85 for the expense of hiring
the theatre, with the sum of thirty guineas to Mr.
Cooke for the musical composition, and adds, " It re-
quires, therefore, all the support and countenance of
her friends and the public, not to let her be a suflFerer
for contributing to our dramatic amusement."
Lady Morgan, more than forty years after, de-
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LITBBAEY AND PERSONAL. 183
scribed incidentally the appearance of old Crow Street
Theatre upon this memorable evening. " The thea-
tre exhibited a singular and brilliant spectacle on this
occasion, extremely demonstrative of the party feeling
at that time in Ireland, and indeed of its peculiar
social state. The vice-regal box and dress-circle were
exclusively occupied by the Court, and officers of the
garrison, who were headed by the Commander-in-
Chief. The whole of the liberal part of the Irish bar,
and their friends, filled the upper circle, and the pit
and galleries were occupied by a popular Irish Ca-
tholic audience, whose fim and humorous sallies filled
up the intervals of the acts, while their frequent
cheers for the Lord-Lieutenant, and frequent calls for
*Patrick^s Day,^ and for 'Kate Kearney,^— (a
popular composition of the author's), produced a sort
of national drama ^ avant la sc^ne/ infinitely more
amusing than that which was enacted on it. The
Duchess of Bedford and all the ladies of her circle
wore the Irish bodkin, and thus raised the price of
Irish gold in the Dublin market of bijouterie ! if not
of its native talent.'^
The late Joseph Atkinson, Esq., of Melfield, Trea-
surer to the Irish Ordnance, a man of amiable dis-
position, refined taste, and a poet of no mean calibre,
(see p. 114 ante), stuck to little Sydney like a true
friend on this occasion. He wrote the Prologue to
her play, and giving her the benefit of his local in-
fluence and popularity, published it, with his name,
in the journals of the day.
" This night a Novice, to the stage unknown,
To all the failings of an author prone,
Comes here a Penitent to make confession,
Hoping you'll pardon this her first transgression ;
If to amuse you should he deemed a crime,
Forgive her motive, and she'U mend in time :
Perhaps ere now the husy voice of fame
Digitized byLjOOQlC
134 LADY MOBGAK^ H£B CABEEB^
Has whispered eagerly the author's name
Hints that her laurels have adorn'd Romance,
Twined with the Shamrock and the flowers of France ;
That an old faTourite of the Thespian art,
Appears this night to take a daughter's part,
That all her powers of filial love engage
To prove the comfort of a Father's age ;
Hearts form'd as yours can such endearments boast.
And those who fed them can applaud them most."
Mr. Atkinson then appeals to public favor for " a
female bard/^
" Amongst you born 'tis yours to muse and raise
These brilliant talents which enhance your praise.
To you she gives this tribute of her muse
Thongh vainly tempted Briton's stage to choose.
By Erin's harp which love and fancy strung
She bade her verse be tun'd and numbers sung.
Thus the musician, and the bard inspire,
To rouse your powers, and fan vour native fire,
As the Wild Irish Ghrl her spint tries,
To bid your ancient fame and genius rise,
To guard vnth patriot zeal your sainted isle.
Where love and beauty round the graces smile.
And prove, though prejudice abroad may roam.
We seldom find the worth we leave at home.
She to your candour then submits her cause
So judge with mercy— not dramatic laws ;
What piece is perfect ? None from faults exempt.
Then pray encourage this, her * First Attempt.'
Her next endeavour more renown may sue —
Prove more deserving of yourself and tou.
Snakes in the grass may hiss, and critics hector,
But she's a woman and you'll all protect her 1"
The story of the " Pirst Attempt, or the Whiin of
the Moment/' is Spanish, and the scene is laid on
the coast of Biscay, near an ancient castle, occupied
by the Marquis de las Cistenies, and a fair girl
named Elvira, who, when an infant, had been found
on the adjacent rocks. The marquis becomes so en-
thusiastically fond of her, that he treats his own
daughter, IJicholetta, with extreme coldness, and she
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LITERARY AND PERSONAL. 135
leaves her home. Two young students, Alonzo and
Orlando, have retired to the monntainous recesses of
the Sierra Morena, to await the consequences of a
duel. Alonzo arrives at the conclusion that Elvira
must be his sister, who had been lost by shipwreck
upon that coast. The students are informed, through
the garrulity of Pedro, a servant to the grandee, that
two professors are expected at the castle, for the pur-
pose of instructing Elvira in some suitable accom-
plishments. This offers a good opportunity for gain-
ing admittance, and Orlando and his servant,
O'DrisaoU (Owenson), a facetious Irishman, assume
collegiate gowns, and are introduced tQ the marquis,
who, after a time, suspects how the land lies, and
turns them out in disgrace. Orlando returns by
means of a trap-door, and after a variety of amusing
incidents, Elvira escapes, and marries her deliverer.
Alonzo, in the meantime, has been makinsf furious
love to Nicholetta, who marries him, and O'DriscoU,
not wishing to be idle, takes to wife a certain Miss
Flora, who acts a very confidential part as maid to
Elvira. The piece opens )ipith a chorus of fishermen
rowing in boats towards the shore, which, the theatri-
cal critics of the day tell us, had a highly picturesque
effect
" The Dublin Evening Post'' of Thursday, March
6th, records: — "Last night Miss Owenson's opera
was performed for the first time to a most brilliant
and crowded audience, and received the greatest ap-
plause. Mr. Owenson made his first appearance these
nine years, and met with a most flattering reception.''
*^The performers exerted themselves with becoming
spirit,'* says the 'Freeman's Journal;' "Bichard
Jones in particular bustled through his part, and
gave a mock Bravura with a portion of comicality
which we did not expect. Mr. Owenson sustained
Digitized byLjOOQlC
186 LADY MOBGAN, HER CAREER,
the Irish character with his wonted success. He was
received with great applause, and the peculiarity
of the part which he filled secured hinj throughout
the sympathy of the audience. The opera was re-
ceived with repeated plaudits, and being announced
by Mr. Owenson for a second representation, was
welcomed without a dissentient voice.^' * The Cor-
respondent^ said : — '' It is no small compliment to
the talents of our countrywoman, Miss Owenson,
and to the general estimation in which she is held,
that so distinguished a mark of favour should have
been bestowed on her, as the personal attention of
the Viceroy at the Theatre, and the flattering encour-
agement which his Excellency has given to the
native talent of this kingdom is no less honourable
in so distinguished a personage.'^
In the midst of this general congratulation and
jubilee, who should rush into the columns of the
" Freeman^s JournaF^ but Miss Owensou^s old foe,
M. T. He was amazed to see the representative of
royalty take by the hand that little girl whom he had
sought to proscribe as a traitor to the king, a foe to
God, and a Latitudinarian in morals. The views of
the flippant critic seem to have undergone some
modification from this moment. He went to the
theatre to sneer, and he remained to stare. He was
pleased with Miss Owenson^s dramatic attempt.
But let him speak for himself : — " In this instance I
feel inclined to bestow more of praise than censure.
Whether my placidness of disposition was occasioned
by the harmonic influence of Mr. Cooke's excellent
overture, the suddenness of the incidents, or the
lively dialogues of the drama, I cannot now determine ;
but this I must own, that the combination pro-
duced an extremely pleasing entertainment.^' M. T.
then proceeds, somewhat inconsistently, to criticize
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LITEllAM AND PERSONAL. 137
with a spice of the old leven. '* The plot/' we are
told, ^' is not remarkable for either novelty, or interest.
Mr. Owenson sang a very good song, but said a great
deal which if not said, would have been better for the
drama and the authoress/' M. T. concludes, "It
may damp the pleasure which Miss Owenson's friends
would otherwise derive from my approbation, to hear,
that ' The Wild Irish Girl' is not forgotten. Some
circumstances have hitherto prevented a continuation
of my former critical observations upon that subject,
which will be immediately resumed."
They were not resumed, however, and the file of
the '^Freeman'' for 1807, may be vainly searched for
any further lucubrations of his pen. The conclud-
ing flourish was merely a piece of well known news-
paper tactics, resorted to at a moment of difficulty,
and when it is desirable to conceal the humiliation of
a prudential retreat. M. T. raised a cloud of dust,
which served at once to blind the eyes of his
readers, and to enable him to escape behind it.
" Tiie First Attempt'' had a run of several nights,
and a benefit was awarded to the authoress, which as
Mr. Donaldson assures us, cleared four hundred
pounds. The author of '^ Fifty Years of an Actor's
Life," adds: — "The characters were sustained by
Eichard Jones, J. Phillips, FuUam, H. Weston, Mrs.
Stewart, and Mrs. T. Cooke, (late Miss Horsley). It
was in this piece that the popular ballad of ' Kate
Kearney' was originally sung." After each represen-
tation of "The First Attempt," Owenson appeared
in some comic afterpiece, such as, "The favourite
Farce of the Register Office, or the Humours of
Paddy O'Carroll, with a variety of Comic Songs by
Mr. Owenson."
On the 27th of May, 1807, he took a benefit,
which helped to sustain for a little time longer the
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138 LADY MORGAN^. HEB CAKEEB^
sinking fortunes of his counting house in Fleet Street.
We quote from the theatric announcement of the
day :
" Mr. Owenson's night. On this evening, the 27th
of May, 1807, will be presented a prelude, called,
'The Irish Actor, or, the Eecruiting Manager.'
Phelim CyGuffinocarroUocanieymacfrane, (the Irish
Actor) Mr. Owenson; in which character he will
sing first, a new characteristic song, written for the
occasion, called, ' An Irishman all the World Over.*
And 'Drimunduh, or, the Poor Irishman's La-
mentation for the Loss of his Cow/ To conclude
with a ' Comic Occasional Address,' in the character
of the Irish Actor, by Mr. Owenson ; after which
will be performed a comedy, called the 'West
Indian.' To which will be added, the admired
opera of 'The First Attempt.' Tickets to be had of
Mr. Owenson, 16, Trinity Street."
Among those with whom Miss Owenson, at this
feriod, associated in the fashionable Whig circles of
)ublin, were Curran, Grattan, Bushe, Plunket, the
Tighes, Sir John Stevenson, and the Cramptons.
Curran, Plunket, and Bushe, had just taken office,
the first as Master of the Rolls, and the two latter as
Attorney and Solicitor General under the Liberal
administration of Lord Grenville. Lady Morgan, in
adverting to this early period of her life, half a
century afterwards, observed that " there was scarcely
one of these truly illustrious names, (the illustration
of Nature's highest letter patent of nobility,) who
were not stispected of being suspicious adherents of
the high-treason of anti-coercion. The wittiest man
of his time, Charles Bushe, afterwards Chief-Justice
of Ireland, and the member of a family whose talent
was characterized as the Irish Esprit de Mortemart,
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LITERARY AND PERSONAL. 139
was accused of being a United Irishman ; Curran was
deemed something worse ! The *' Tighes of Wood*
stock,'' were stigmatized as the most unchangeful of
Irish Whigs, and at that moment further illustrated
by the genius and charms of the first and finest
poetess of her own or' perhaps any country, the
author of "Psyche/' As to the Plunkett— " The
blood of Douglas will protect itself/' Sheil was
then only breaking the shell of his future out-
burst of genius and patriotism: and North, who
bore the sobriquet of the '* Star of the West/'
then best known in the historical debating society of
Dublin by his classical ovations, was foully suspected
of being Irish likewise ! under which odium he
entered the House of Commons shortly after. Sir
John Stevenson was the first and best of Irish com-
posers since the days of Carolan, and the founder of a
school of singing quite original, and best illustrated
in the musical recitations of Mr. Moore ; the musical
talents of his two accomplished and beautiful
daughters, the late Marchioness of Headfort, and
Mrs. Lambert of Beau Park, still remembered with
admiration in high circles of English taste and fash-
ion ; and the rare gift of social agreeability of the
Crampton family is still brilliantly illustrated in the
person of the most eminent . of its members, Sir
Philip Crampton, Bart., the surgeon-general. Last
and least of the " mere Irishry" drawn within the
English pale of this truly delightful society, was an
obscure girl, whose sole passport into circles so
brilliant was that she had written an Irish tale, in
the Irish interest ! sung Irish songs, translated by
herself from Irish poems, and played the Irish harp^
— '' et Dieu sait la raclairie que c'etait''
" It would be want of pride and gratitude," said
Lady Morgan on another occasion^ " not to boast of
Digitized byV^OOQlC
140 LADY HOBGAK^ HER CABEEB,
the advantages I derived from the attentions and
hospitality of the distinguished families of Charlemont,
Leitrim, Charleville, Cloncnrry, and Tighe, on my
first entree upon life and literature/'
The fair authoress, in 1807, favoured the public
with a detail of the more exalted circumstances and
motives which led to the origin of " The Wild Irish
Girl/' " I came/' she goes on to say, *^ to the self-
devoted task, with a diffidence proportioned to the
ardour which instigated me to the attempt ; for as a
woman, a young woman, and an Irishwoman, I felt
all the delicacy of undertaking a wdrk which had for
the professed theme of its discussion, circumstances
of national import, and national interest. But
though 1 meant not to appear on the list of opposi-
tion as a fairy amazon, armed with a pebble and a
sling against a host of gigantic prejudices ; although
to com{)ose a national defence, to ward the shaft of
opprobrium hurled at the character of my country, to
extenuate the effects or expose the causes of its
popular discontents, was as incompatible with my
sex and years, as with my trivial talent and limited
powers ; yet I was still aware that in the historic
page, recent details, and existing circumstances of
Irish story, lived many a record of Irish virtue, Irish
genius, and Irish heroism, while the simplicity of
truth alone was sufficient to delineate many a
tale of pathos which woman's heart could warmest
feel, and truest tell, and many a trait of romantic
colouring and chivalrous refinement, which woman's
fancy fondest contemplates and best depicts.
"To blend the imaginary though probable inci-
dent with the interesting fact, to authenticate the
questioned refinement of ancient habits, by the testi-
mony of living modes, faithfully to delineate what I
had intimately observed, and to found my opinions on
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MTERIRY AND PERSONAL. 141
that medium which ever vibrates between the partial
delineation of national prejudice, on one side, and the
exaggerated details of foreign antipathy on the other ;
such was the prospectus mj wishes dared to draw.
If I failed in their accomplishment, that failure arose
from the mediocrity of very limited talents, which I
soon found were inadequate to realize all my heart
dictated, or my hopes conceived. The world, however,
had the indulgence to tolerate the execution in favour
of the motive, and the reception with which it
honoured 'The Wild Irish Girl,' was sucli as sur-
passed my most sanguine expectations, and stimu-
lated me to further exertion in that cause, which it is
impossible to examine without interest, or to embrace
without enthusiasm. Politics can never be a woman's
science ; but patriotism must naturally be a woman's
sentiment. It is inseparably connected with all those
ties of tenderness which her heart is calculated to
cherish, and though the energy of the citizen may
not animate her feelings to acts of national heroism,
the fondness of the child, the mistress, the wife and
the mother, must warm and ennoble them into senti-
ments of national affection. For myself, while my
heart^still triumphs in the principle which leads me
to effuse over the world's ear the * native wood-notes
wild' of my native country, I would wish it to be
believed that I have ever swept the strings of the
Irish Harp, with the tremulous touch of conscious
inability ; that in humbly endeavouring to revive the
faded shamrock, that which droops round my country's
emblem, I have ever brought to the grateful effort,
an anxious hope, rather than a sanguine expectation
of success ; and that in touching on the grievances
of the lower orders of my countrymen, and their
fatal but consequent effects, unswayed by interest,
unbiassed by partiality, the hope of wooing the
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142 LADY HOEaAN^ HEB CABEEB^
attention of abler minds to a subject on which my
own has long dwelt with ineffectual anxiety^ and
unavailing regret, has been the sole motive of the
feeble eflforts, I now humbly submit to the world's
consideration/'
The success of " The Wild Irish GirP' was almost
unprecedented. In less than two years it ran through
seven editions in Great Britain, and its permanence
of popularity was doubly attested a few years ago, by
Mr. Colbum reprinting it among his Standard
Novels, and Mr. Bryce republishing it in a cheap
form for Railway reading.
That nothing else was spoken of in the fashionable
circles of Dublin half a century ago, is evident from
the numerous advertisements of ^^The Glorvina
Mantle,'' and " Glorvina Ornament," with which the
local journals abound. *' Hearing that an attempt
has been made," observes one of them, '' to imitate
the Glorvina Ornament, honoured by the patronage
of her Grace the Duchess of Bedford, and which
Brush and Son have her Grace's permission to
announce, they beg to request the various assort-
ments, with which they are now constantly supplied,
may be viewed previous to the adoption of any
other ; when the native correctness of that Ornament
will best evince to the eye of taste and judgment its
superiority."
If " The Wild Irish Girl" had many beauties, it
had also some faults. Sir Jonah Barrington thus
blows hot and cold upon it : *' Though a fiction not
free from some inaccuracies, much inappropriate
dialogue, and forced incident, it is impossible to
peruse 'The Wild Irish Girl' of Lady Morgan,
without deep interest, or to dispute its claims as a
production of true national feeling as well as literary
talent. That tale is perhaps the best of all her
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LITBRA.RY AND PBESONAL. 143
novel writings. Compared with others, it strikingly
exhibits the author's falling off from the simple
touches of unsophisticated nature to the less refined
conceptions of what she herself styles 'fashionable
society/ "
" The Wild Irish GirF' contained many portraits,
drawn upon the spot from real life. Amongst others,
was Denis Harapson, the Blind Bard of Macgilligan,
who died shortly after at the age of one hundred
and ten. His death is recorded in the " Gentleman's
Magazine,^' vol. Ixxvii., p. 1232.
The patronage bestowed by the Duke and Duchess
of Bedford on Sydney Owenson was brought to an
abrupt termination, on April the 19th, 1807, by the
downfall of the Portland administration, and the re-
moval of their Excellencies from Ireland. By the
Irish Liberal Politicians of that day, this administra-
tive change was deeply deplored. The Government
fell from no other reason than its refusal to abandon
the Catholic cause. Miss Owenson,. as events after-
wards turned out, saw no reason to continue that
feeling of regret, with which she had been filled by
the departure of her noble, kind, and influential
patrons. The Duke of Bedford was succeeded by the
convivial Charles, Duke of Richmond, who not only
showed Sydney Owenson every ordinary mark of
courtesy and patronage, but went so far as to knight
her husband and brother-in-law.
Soon after the publication of '^ The Wild Irish
GirV Miss Owenson made a short tour in England,
where the terms of reproach and contempt in which
her country was generally spoken of, induced the
spirited young Irishwoman to devote her best energies
to the compilation of such a mass of evidence as
could not fail to arrest attention and have a forcible
tendency in producing opposite impressions.
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144 LADY MORGAN, HER CAREER,
Id 1807, appeared two volumes of "Patriotic
Sketches, written in Connaught bj Miss Owenson."
Let us trace her movements from this book.
" I left Dublin in the autumn of 1806,'' she tells
us, " with the intention of rambling through such
scenes in the north-west of Connaught as I had
not yet visited ; and it was here my little journey
began to receive its first decided character of interest ;
it was here that the impression made on my imagin-
ation insensibly communicated to memory the first
of those rough sketches which, divested of the
delicate pencil, touch the pentimenii (to use a tech-
nical phrase) of studied art and practised j6dgment.
I have copied with the same rude simplicity with
which they were drawn in the moment of passing
observation, as the heart was touched by objects of
moral interest, or the fancy awakened by scenes of
natural beauty. I had watched the last beam of
the setting sun stealing his faded spleudours from
the last of those lakes which precede the entrance of
the cavern -path, and the broken and irregular masses
of rock which arose pyramidically on either side,
partially caught the retreating glow of the horizon,
and displayed the greatest variety of light and
shadow, till gradually opening, a rich and expansive
prospect broke on the eye ; the lakes and fairy land
of Hazle-wood, the bold attitude of Benbubin, the
beetling brow of Knock-na-bee, the ocean's gleaming
line, commingling with the horizon, and the town of
Sligo spreading irregularly along the base of a lofty
hill, crowned with meadows, and successively be-
trayed by the expanding view ; till the softening in-
fluence of twilight mellowed every outline into air,
and dissolved every object into one mild and indis-
tinct hue.''
Many additional pages are devoted to Sligo and
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MTERABY AND PERSONAL, 145
its grey old Abbey. That tendency to regard, ever
after, with an undue importance, localities first
known, and revered in childhood, is traceable in Miss
Owenson^s remarks. It is absurd to compare Sligo
in any one particular to Babylon or Thebes ; and
yet the first chapter of her " Patriotic Sketches"
contains such comparisons. Notwithstanding this
puerility, however, there are many remarkably sound
political suggestions, and numberless truly beautiful
pictures of local scenery in the book— marred here
and there perhaps by a few tinges of sectarian pre-
judice, which Sydney had imbibed from the essentially
puritanic atmosphere with which her infancy was
surrounded. The generous motive, however, which
led Miss Owenson to undertake this work, arrests
attention in every chapter and demands respectful
acknowledgment. By such passages as the follow-
ing, which are selected from many others of a similar
tone and aim, Miss Owenson enlisted a wide spread
feeUrig of sympathy on behalf of her destitute and
degraded fellow-countrymen.
*^ When the strained eye of sorrowing affection has
followed the father and the husband, even till fancy
gives what distance snatches from its view, the mo-
ther closes the door of her desolate cabin ; and when
(as is generally the case) her family are too helpless
to relinquish her maternal cares and enable her to
work, followed by her little children, and frequently
by an aged parent, beggary is embraced as the only
alternative to want and famine. Sometimes with an
infant on her back, and another in her arms, (while
the ablest of her little train is always charged with
the tin vessel which carries the sour milk supplied by
charity, and another infant wanderer sustains the
weight of the blanket which constitutes the only
covering thrown over them at night), she commences
L
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146 LADY MORGAil, HER CAREEE,
her sad and solitary wanderings. How freqnentlj,
and in what opposite seasons, have I beheld these
helpless and wretched groups straggling along the
high roads, or reposing their wearied limbs beneath
the shelter of a ditch I I have seen the feet of the
lieavily-laden mother totter through winter snows
beneath her tender burthen : while the frost bitten
limbs of her infant companions drew tears to their
eyes, which in the happy thoughtlessness of childhood
had never been shed to the unconscious misery of
their situation, had not bodily pain taught them to
flow. I have met them wandering over those heaths,
-which afforded no shelter to their aching brows,
amidst the meridian ardours of a summer^s day;
when violent heat and insupportable fatigue, ren-
dered the stream they stopped to drink a luxury the
most exquisite, I have met them at the door of
magisterial power, and seen them spumed from its
threshold by him who should have redressed their
grievances or relieved their wants ; and I have seen
them cheerfully received into the cabin of an equally
humble, but more fortunate compatriot, where their
wants were a recommendation to benevolence, and
their number no check to its exertion. For never
yet was the door of an Irish cabin closed against the
suppliant who appealed to -the humanity of its owner/'
The authoress did not trust to mere hearsay for
her impressions. She conversed personally with the
peasantry, and committed verbatim to her tablets,
an interesting selection from the dialogues which
took place between them on these occasions. The
plan of the work is original, and contains much
novel interest. Sparkles of diamond wit, gushes of
unctuous humour, and soarings of high poetic thought,
are made to relieve, artistically and alternately,
various harrowing details of grim reality. The
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LITERABY AND PERSONAL. 147
whole bears evidence of considerable erudition and
reading. It is somewhat surprising how Miss Owen-
son could have acquired so intimate a familiarity
with such miscellaneous literature as Giraldus Cam-
brensis, Yerulam, Ware^ Harris, Burke, Valancey,
Yoltaire, AUemande, Stainhurst, Helvetius, Montes-
quieu, Coke, Johnson, Chandler, Walker, Davis
and Young. And yet, every second page contains
references to the writings of these authors. Of foot
notes we have what many readers would be inclined
to regard as more than enough. Every '^Sketch"
abounds with them; and it would seem that the
fair author had yet to learn that such illustrations,
except when unavoidable, completely break the
flowing beauty, and encumber the sense of literary
composition. The reader, in the midst of the most
beautiful details, is suddenly hurled to the bottom
of the page by a falling star. The matter thus un-
artistically obtruded might easily have been embodied,
with good eflect, in the texj. The eye compelled
perpetually to desert the page for an extraneous
foot-note, and then to rise again unrefreshed, becomes
after a while fatigued ; but these and other imper-
fections to which we have alluded, were all corrected
by Lady Morgan, when experience and reading had
matured her judgment.
These pages have been written to little purpose, how-
ever, if the reader has failed to see that, even at the
present early epoch of her life, Sydney Owenson
possessed considerable intellectual power. Among
other qualities rarely enjoyed by the softer sex, she
exercised a singular facility in analytically drawing
from present political premises, strikingly accurate
political conclusions. Tithes, which more than
twenty years afterwards excited so powerful a sen-
sation as the monster grievance of Ireland, received
L 2
Digitized byLjOOQlC
148 LADY MORGAN, HER CAEEEE,
their first blow in this unpretending volume of Miss
Owenson's. The views expressed, and the language
which clothes them, are sound, eloquent, and
vigorous; In her Ninth Sketch, Miss Owenson,
"with a ladj^s hand but a lion's heart,'' probes
to the bottom, like an experienced surgeon, the
festering germ of disturbance which then agitated
Connaught, under the auspices of " the Thrashers."
SuflSce it to say that they sprang from the same
cause which nearly thirty years after ensanguined
the plains of Gortroe; Carrickshock, Dunmanway
Castlepollard, and Newtownbarry. But as this
subject has been since tolerably well exhausted, and
is not, in truth, a very inviting one, we prefer to
follow Sydney Owenson on some of her Connaught
excursions in search of the picturesque.
The Eleventh Sketch opens with an account of
the traditions of Tyreragh and Tyrawley, and an
eloquent allusion to her friend, and as she would
always have it, her kinsman Sir Malby Crofton.
" My heart had long owed a pilgrimage to this remote
and little known barony," she writes, " for it was
the residence of the dear and respected friend for
whom that heart had long throbbed with an invari-
able pulse of gratitude, tenderness and affection." Fur-
ther on she adds : — " L hous6, the ancient family-
seat of Sir M-^ C , Bart., was the goal of
my little journey, and I reached its venerable avenue
at a season of the day peculiarly favourable to the
soft chiarO'Oscuro of picturesque beauty : with the
old gloomy avenue of an ancient mansion-seat, there
is, I think, invariably connected a certain sentiment
which bears the heart back to ' other times,' and
awakens it to an emotion of tender reverence, and
melancholy pleasure. For myself, I have never
walked beneath its interwoven branches uninfluenced
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LTTEUAEY AND PERSONAL. 149
by a certain feeling, in which memory^s pensive spell
mingled with the speculations of awakened fancy." ^
We are informed by the present Sir Malby Crofton
Bart * that a large portion of " The Wild Irish GirP
and the entire of " The Patriotic Sketches/' were com-
posed at Longford House, the family seat of his
ancestors. Miss Owenson thus describes this now
historic spot. "The lands and* demesne of L— lie
almost along the shores of the Atlantic ocean, and
immediately beneath the shelter of Knockachree, from
whose rugged base swells the lesser chain of the Ox
mountains, whose sides were once covered with
luxuriant woods, and from whose towering summit
rush innumerable torrents, which lessening into
streams in their deep descent, water the plains be-
neath, and flow into the ocean. The shores on the
other side of the bay are romantic and striking ; the
beautiful peninsula of Tandsago, intervenes its culti-
vated landscapes, and most happily breaks the view,
while the rude dashing of the waves against the bar,
lends an effective sound; and the back scenery
afforded by the mountains, wears a character of
wildness and sublimity .''
Miss Owenson's tastes and tendencies were singu-
larly and essentially Celtic. She regretted, among
other refined national grievances, that the harpers,
the original composers and depositories of the music
of Ireland, should have ceased to be cherished and
retained by its nobility and gentry. She sorrowed
to see that the warm ardent spirit of national enthu-
* Letter from Sir M. Crofton Bart. November 26th, 1859.
Sir Malby adds, in reply to a query, that no trace of Miss
Owenson's correspondence with his grandfather exist, owing to
a great fire which totally destroyed Longford House many years
ago. Sir Malby is not aware of any relationship between his
family and the Owensons.
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150 LADY MORGAN, HER CAREER,
siasm, which had hung delighted on the song of
national melody, to which many an associated idea,
many an endeared feeling, lent their superadded
charm, should have faded into apathy, and that
neither the native strain, nor the native sentiment
which gave it soul, touched any longer on the spring
of national sensibility, or awakened the dormant
energy of national taste.
The second volume of "The Patriotic Sketches''
concludes with an amusing description of Thaddeus
Connellan, who as "the Apostle of Lower Con-
naught,'' and an Irish translator of some ability,
acquired notoriety at a later period. " My rambles
and frequent conversations with the peasantry in the
neighbourhood of L— House," writes Miss Owen-
son, " have obtained me a degree of rustic notoriety to
which I stand indebted for a visit from Mr. Thady
O'Connellan, a school-master, highly esteemed and
looked up to by his rural disciples." Mr. Connellan
introduced himself to Miss Owenson by saying that
having heard she was fond of Irish composition, he
wished to submit some of the Poems of Ossian which
were much at her service. " The Irish," he added,
"is the finest tongue in the world, the English can
never come near it, and the Greek alone is worthy
of being compared to it." He then with great en-
thusiasm, repeated the description of Fion's Shield in
Irish, and Homer's description of the (Egis of Achilles
giving the preference to the former; and Ossian's
account of his father's hounds, was, he contended,
superior to the dogs of Ovid. Connellan declared
his intention of translating the Eneid and
Terence into Irish. ""When I compHmented him
on the extent of his erudition," writes Miss Owen-
son, " and expressed my astonishment at his having
acquired it in so remote a situation, he replied :
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LITERAUY AND PBESONAL. 151
'Young lady, T went far and near for it, as many a
poor scholar did before me: for I could construe
Homer before I ever put on shoe or stocking, aye,
or a hat either/ When he was a young man (he
said) there were but few schools in Connaught, and
those few but bad : and it was not unusual for eight
or ten boys ^ who had the love of learning strong
upon them,^ to set off bare-footed arid bare-headed
to Munster, where the best schools were then held ;
that they commenced their philosophic pilgrimage
poor and friendless : but they begged their way,
and that tlie name pf poor scholar procured them
every where friends and subsistence; that having
heard much of the celebrity of a school-master in
the county of Clare, he and his adventurous com-
panions directed their steps towards his seminary ;
^but,^ added Thady 'it being a grazing country,
and of course no hospitality to be found there
(meaning that it was thinly inhabited), we could not
get a spot to shelter our heads in, the neighbourhood
of the school, so being a tight set of Connaught
boys, able and strong, we carried oflF the school-master
one fine night, and never stopped till we landed* him
on the other side of the Shannon, when a priest gave
us a house, and so we got learning and hospitality to
boot, and the school-master made a great fortune in
time, all Connaught flocking to him, and now here
I am at the head of a fine Seminary myself/ " The
Lyceum of this Sage was a miserable cabin on the
side of a desolate road. In this hovel he taught
Homer and Virgil to a select portion of his bare-
footed pupils, and a solid course of instruction to
all. Miss Owenson^s object in devoting an entire
chapter to this subject, was no doubt to shew the
passionate love of letters, which has always charac-
terised the native Irish.
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152 LADY MOROAK^ HEA CAREER^
Miss Owenson mentions in this work, that she re-
ceived much kind and hospitable attention from the
family of Mr. of C House. The party to
whom she alludes was, we understand, the late Mr.
Ormsby of Commin House near Sligo.
Trom the hour that little Sydney received the
gracious attention of their Graces the l)uke and
Duchess of Bedford, she rose like a rocket in general
estimation. By the fashionable world, her society
was courted with avidity ; by the populous, whose
cause she had so warmly espoused, she was idolized.
The " Freeman^s Journal which had originally been
somewliat prejudiced against her, observes, on
November 6th, 1807 : *^ It may justly be said that
this young lady is one of the greatest ornaments our
country could ever boast of. She moves in the very
highest circles, courted and admired, as well for her
unrivalled talents, as her elegant and unaffected
manners. She is realizing, we hear, a noble inde-
pendence, by the exertion of her own cultivated and
highly expanded mind, while places and pensions are
bestowed on ' foul-mouthed railors'— enemies to the
peace, the genius, and the virtues of our country .''
" Patriotic Sketches of Ireland,^' was followed by
the " Lay jf an Irish Harp, or Metrical Fragments,^'
which contained many beautiful flashes of poetic
thought and imagery. It was, we believe, in this
book that'the following lines occurred which furnish
some insight into the idiosyncracies of the fair writer.
Too ardent to be constant long,
If love's wild rose I haply gathered,
I scarcely breathed its fragrant bloom,
When love's wild rose grew pale and withered.
Miss Owenson^s labours at this period were not
alone varied, but of the most zealous, humane, and
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LITEUAEY AND PERSONAL. 153
ennobling character. She did not selfishly reserve
mental exertion for the highly successful and remun-
erative volumes which yearly fell from her pen ; but
through the medium of the public press, laboured in
the generous cause of philanthropy and patriotism.
Although her society was eagerly courted by the first
circles in the metropolis, she often left the salon
or ball-room to perform some office of gracious
charity. We now find her contributing letters to
the ^* Freeman's Journal/' occasionally. One dated
November 22nd, 1807, we subjoin. " This letter,''
wrote the editor, "regards a subject which is .always
welcome to an Irish mind. As the reader will per-
ceive, it bears the signature of a lady well known in
the literary and fashionable world."
" Sir — ^While moral suffering is most acutely felt
by minds of educated refinement, of native and
acquired sensibility, human nature, in every state, in
every stage, is alive to the keen pang of physical
evil ; and while the most perfect corporeal health is
frequently found united to the ' mind diseased,' the
thrill of pain, which quivers through the suffering
body, famishes the mind's repose, and blunts, or
destroys its better faculties. In the sad list of ills,
which ' flesh is heir to,' there are few more acute than
that which severity of weather, ' the jar of elements,'
brings with it, to those whom poverty exposes to all
the * penalties of Adam.' If the couch of down, the
carpet's velvet, the hearth's genial glow, the window's
folded drapery, and all those comforts which luxury
devises, and opulence bestows, cannot soften to the
startled ear the tempest's blast, the thunder's roll—
cannot shield from the delicate frame the sudden
chill of piercing frost ; if a transient absence from
the luxurious drawing-room (tho' but to step to a
Digitized byLjOOQlC
154 LAJ)Y MOEGAK, HER CAREER,
scarce less luxurious carriage) congeals every limb ;
what must be their sufferings for whom.no ray of
'hope beams, who, amidst the horrors of shipwreck,
meet the most dreadful of deaths ; or perishing with
cold and want on land, meet a more tedious, and
scarce less pitiable destiny.
" Along the snow-deep and half -deserted streets,
behold the shivering mother, urged by the keenest
necessity a mother^s heart can feel, faintly appealing
to the charity of the few who pass her, for a trifle to
purchase a scanty portion of fuel for the little
wretches, who in some loathsome corner pine for her
return. Behold the noxious retreat of poverty — the
miserable garret — its damp walls— its desolated air
—its shattered windows, <(but ill fitted to resist the
keen blast, or drifting snow) in its remotest part half'
covered by a tattered blanket ; the sickly, decayed
tradesman— the tender father vainly endeavours to
communicate to his clinging offspring that comfort
and that warmth, he has long ceased himself to feel;
Glance into the wards of the Debtor^s Prison— unbar
the door of the untried delinquent's dungeon ; even
there the horrors of imprisonment are sharpened by
the season's severities ; these are no fancy pictures
in this city— they are, at this moment, too sadly
realized, it is unnecessary to say more, for when
did misery raise her fainting voice, and find the
Irish heart dead to her suppliant accents ? As the
season seems to set in with a rigour ^ not portentous
of its end,' some effort of public benevolence might
be opposed to the evil of the existing moment, or
some plan suggested to obviate the sufferings of a
future day. The purchase and distribution of fuel,
after the manner adopted in the soup-kitchens some
years back, migiit, perhaps, be found adequate to the
removal of the chief distress the poor and indigent
Digitized byLjOOQlC
LITERARY AND PERSONAL. 155
are likely to sustain, or some better plan may be
suggested by the actively benevolent, more efficacious
in its tendency. That ^ we always succeed when we
wish to do good,' is#an axiom advanced by a cele-
brated French philosopher, and to which every good
heart will bring the testimony of its own experience.
In the present instance, therefore, while the principle
of national benevolence lives so warmly in every Irish
heart, the means of its successful execution cannot
long remain an object of speculation to Irish minds/'
It is impossible to doubt the immense utility of
which these appeals of Miss Owenson were produc-
tive. The blessings of the poor, with an earnest
prayer that heaven might grant a long and happy
life to their benefactress, perpetually fell in whispers
around her.
Lady Morgan, in a letter to the author of these
pages, in 1855, alludes to some appeals on behalf of
the little Sweeps in Dublin, which she threw off about
the same time. It was not until full thirty years
after, that the hapless condition of these unfortunate
little creatures, was taken into serious consideration
by the Legislature. So far back as 1807, Miss
Owenson endeavoured to excite a feeling of sympa-
thy in their behalf by such indirect appeals as the
following, which we transcribe from the " Freeman's
Journal," of December 8, 1807.
'Twas a keen frosty morn, and the snow heavy falling
When a child of misfortune was thus sadly calling,
" Sweep, sweep — I am cold ! and the snow very deep,
pray take compassion on poor little sweep ! '
" Sweep, chimney, sweep !"
The tears down his cheeks in fast drops were rolling.
Unnoticed, unpitied, by those by him strolling ;
Who frequently warn'd him at a distance to keep
While he cried — " Take compassion on poor little sweep !
" Sweep, chimney, sweep !"
Digitized byLjOOQlC
156 LADY MORGAN, HEE CAKBEE,
In vain he implored passing strangers for pity,
They smil'd at his plaints, and they bantered his ditty :
Humanity's offspring as yet lay asleep,
Nor heard the sad wailings of poor little sweep !
" Sweep, chimney, sweep !''
At the step of a door half froze and dejected,
He sat down and grieved to be shunn'd and neglected ;
When a kind hearted damsel by chance saw him weep,
And resolv'd to befriend, yes, the poor little sweep !
" Sweep, chimney, sweep I"
Unmindful of sneers to a neighbour's she led him,
Warm'd his hmbs by the fire and tenderly fed him :
And, oh ! what deUght did this fair maiden reap.
When she found a lost brother in poor little sweep !
" Sweep, chimney, sweep !"
With rapture she gaz'd on each black sooty feature,
And hugged to her bosom the foul smelling creature.
Who sav'd by a sister, no longer need creep.
Through lanes, courts, and alleys, a poor little sweep I
" Sweep, chimney, sweep 1"
The avidity with which Miss Owenson^s society
was now courted and secured, made considerable
inroads on that leisure which had previously been
employed to such admirable literary effect, and
pecuniary advantage. For the next two years no
work from her pen appeared. At length in 1809,
" Woman, or, Ida of Athens,^' a romance in four
volumes, was published, containing many highly
ornate descriptions of scenery, and individual por-
traitures, with some situations possessing much
romantic interest, and picturesque beauty ; but occa-
sionally marred by the blemishes of taste which had
marked the earlier writings of Miss Owenson. " Ida
of Athens^^ became a temporary favourite, although
some of the leading reviews did their best to damn it.
The '' Quarterly Eeview,^' in its first volume, singled
it out for a savage onslaught. But this influential
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LlTEBAitY AND PERSONAL. 157
antagonism was perhaps an attestation of the impor-
tance of the book. Even the lordly Byron con-
descended to go out of his way for the purpose of
reading a lecture to Miss Owenson on the subject of
her ^thenian heroine. The passage to which we
allude may be found in one of the notes to " Childe
Harold/' "Ida of Athens'' attained much ephe-
meral popularity, but the impression which any
reader who now opens it will probably retain is, that
Lady Morgan is never so successful as when on Irish
ground.
Such was the popularity of Miss Owenson at this
period, that the lower orders of her countrymen
looked upon her talents as of a very influential kind.
"A. poor fellow, a letter-carrier," writes one who
knew our authoress well, " of good general character,
the father of a large family, was induced, in a
moment of extreme distress, to open a letter com-
mitted to his charge, and to possess himself of a small
sum of money, with the intention of restoring it in
a few days to the owner. For this offence he was
condemned to diei In the court in which he was
tried, a scene of the deepest distress was exhibited by
the presence and anguish of his aged father, his wife,
and her helpless infants : but the crime was one of
those which society never pardons. In such cases
Cupidity and Apprehension are alike interested iu
striking terror, and Mercy and Hope must be silent at
their bidding. From the gloom of the condemned
cell this unfortunate criminal, like the drowning
wretch who grasps at a straw, appealed to the
imaginary influence of a popular writer, and the
claim was irresistible to one whose domestic affec-
tions were the mainspring of her being. On the
receipt of his letter, Miss Owenson addressed herself
to the different barristers of her acquaintance ; but
Digitized byLjOOQlC
158 LADT MORGAN, HER CAREER,
the reply she received was uniform. The crime was
unpardonable, the man^s fate was sealed, and inter-
ference could only expose her to mortification and
defeat. Unintimidated by these dispiriting • reports,
she applied directly to Baron Smith, the presiding
judge on the trial, who directed her to the foreman of
the jury, with the promise, that if a recommendation
to mercy could be procured from them, he would, in
consequence of the conviction resting on circuna-
stantial evidence, back it with his sanction. Miss
Owenson saw the foreman, induced him to assemble
the jurymen, and to sign the recommendation. She
then drew up a memorial to the Duke of EicEmond,
the head of the Irish government ; and, in one word,
procured a commutation of the sentence to perpetual
transportation. It is pleasurable to add, that on
arriving at New South Wales, the reprieved man
became an industrious and honest member of society ;
and supports his family in independence and comfort.
A circumstance not dissimilar in its events, and even
more romantic in the details, occured to Jenner, who
was the means of saving a youth, condemned to
certain death under the horrible form of perpetual
slavery. The recollection of such anecdotes is a
source of the purest satisfaction. They tend to raise
the literary character; they do honour to human
nature, and they relieve the dark shade which almost
uniformly obscures the political history of the
species."
To the famous political and social reunions of the
Marquis of Abercorn, at Stan more Priory, Miss
Owenson was now cordially invited. Stanmore, at
the period of which we write, was a centre of politics
and fashion ; and while similar receptions at its great
rival, Holland House, wore an exclusively Whig
complexion, those at Lord Abercorn's were of a much
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LITERARY AND PERSONAL. 159
more mixed and general character. The social inter-
course between chiefs of parties which subsisted at
Stanlnore Priory, contributed much to soften public
and political asperities. Some of our author's
writings not only received their inspiration at Stan-
more, but were absolutely penned in the midst of the
exalted circle of guests which the Marquis of Aber-
corn had gathered around him.
.When we remember the savage ferocity with
which Miss Owenson's national writings were assailed,
from motives of party spite, it is not surprising that
the promptings of her sensitive mind, should have
led her to discontinue, for a short interval, works of
a purely Irish character. In 1811, she presented
the public with a three volume novel, called " The
Missionary, an Indian Tale/' This work was written
at Stan more Priory ; and not a few grave statesmen,
disenthralled for a few weeks, from the cares and
turmoil of ofiBce, louugingly abandoned themselves
to the luxury of listening to Miss Owenson, as she
read aloud her exciting and wildly romantic story.
Among those present were Lord Aberdeen, Lord
Castlereagh, Lord Eipon (then Mr. Robinson,) Lord
Palmerston, the Duke of Devonshire; and on
another similar occasion, the Princess of Wales, the
Due de Berri, and the ex-King of Sweden. It is a
remarkable fact that Lord Castlereagh, then Secretary
for Foreign Affairs, was so fascinated by the author,
and her frail ''Missionary,'' that he offered to
accompany the young authoress to town, and having
sent for Mr. Stockdale of Pall Mall, the work was
absolutely disposed of to that publisher for £400, in
the study of Lord Castlereagh. The good nature of
this distinguished statesman was the more remark-
able as Lady Morgan had repeatedly, and forcibly,
denounced the Legislative Union, of which he was the
Digitized byLjOOQlC
160 LADY MORGAN, HER CAREER,
chief director, as corrupt and calamitous, atrocious in
its principle, and abominable in its means.
"The Missionar/^ is open to objection, but is so
improbable that it can hardly be deemed a dangerous
novel. ' It is, in manj parts, very rhapsodical ; but
the fault is, in some degree, attributable to the
motley suggestions which the distinguished guests at
Stanmore urged, and many of which the authoress,
in compliment to her influential friends, laughingly
adopted. The salient points of the narrative are, if
we remember rightly, these. The Missionary is a
Spanish priest, who repairs to India with a view to
effect conversions to the church, of which he is
himself a zealous and an able minister. Great
success attends his labours at first, but in an evil
hour, a Hindoo lady of surpassing beauty, whom he
had addressed in the language of fraternal charity,
brings her rich black eyes, charged with subduing
amatory power, to bear, with deadly aim, upon him.
The struggle between duty and inclination which
follows, is in the highest degree terrific. In the
course of a short time the lady is borne to eternity by
an epidemic fever. Even the bed of death does not
allay the unholy torment which rages within the
Missionary's breast. He casts away his breviary and
stole, and lives a sort of anchoritic life in the recesses
of a gloomy cave for her sake. Eschewing scull and
crucifix, his sole companion is a pet fawn, which had
once belonged, arid had been often caressed by the
beautiful Luxima. How the ideal priest ended his
days we do not now remember, nor is it of much
consequence ; but our impression is distinct that no
good moral in conclusion attempts to palliate the
sundry objectionable details through which the reader
has been dragged. We should not have paused to notice
at such length, a book worthy only of the Minerva
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LITEEARY AND PBESONAL. 161
press, were it not that Lady Morgan herself, to the
last moment of her life, attached some, importance to
it, although laughing airily enough at the wild
romance and puerilities of the story. She considered
that the picture it presented of Indian* life, and some
interesting oriental lore which it unfolded, pos-
sessed a certain didactic attraction, which far and
away more than counterbalanced the defects of the
story. That such was Lady Morgan's deliberate
opinion, even after the lapse of forty years, we have the
most conclusive evidence in the singular fact, that the
veteran authoress had been engaged just before her
death in. completely remodelling the " Missionary,^'
and in superintending its revision through the press.
Lady Morgan considered that the Indian details with •
which the ''Missionary'' abounded, possessed for
obvious reasons peculiar interest at that moment.
When this romance was first published half a cen-
tury ago, the East was very generally used as a
tabula rasa for fictions of a didactic and romantic
kind; but we might almost as justly expect that
people would study Rassellas in order to learn the
history and politics of Abyssinia, as to hope to
gather accurate information regarding the state of
India from this unworthy Missionary's escapades.
Through the medium of " Luxima, the Prophetess ; a
Tale of India," they have been reproduced in a
modified shape, within the last few months, and those
who desire to read the narrative we have outlined,
can do so at any circulating library.
In the list of distinguished persons at Stanmore
during the period of Miss Owenson's sojourn there,
we omitted to mention the name of Sir Thomas
Lawrence, with whom she remained ever after on
terms of warm cordiality.' A characteristic portrait of
Miss Owenson, from the pencil of Lawrence, taken at
M
Digitized byLjOOQlC
162 LADY MOBGAN^ HER CABEEB^
the place and period in question, lies before us as we
write. Leaning back on a fauteuil with an appear-
ance of enjoyment and thorough nonchalance, she is
dressed in a white robe, with short petticoats, and
a shorter waist ; her forehead almost entirely con-
cealed by falling ringlets. " How pleasantly/' writes
Hepworth Dixon, " she described the days of Aber-
corn Priory, and of Lady Cork's * blue parties/ wher^
she starred it as a lioness, after the Thrales and'
Burneys of a past dynasty had vanished from the
scene ! These things made her historical, and Lady
Morgan w'as to society and literature something of
what the Great Duke had been to state-craft and war.''
" Lady Morgan's anecdotes of this brilliant period of
her varied life," observes one who knew her well,
"were told with a gracefulness and tact always
favourable to the illustrious persons with whom she
was then associated, and if she much extenuated she
' set down nought in malice.' "
We now approach the most important period in
the domestic life of Miss Owenson. Mr. T. C
Morgan was a surgeon and general medical practi-
tioner in an English provincial town. The late
Marquis of Abercorn in passing through it, en route
for Tyrone, from his Scottish seat, Dudingstone
House, Edinburgh, met with an accident which
threatened dangerous results, and Surgeon Morgan
was sent for. The Doctor was promptly in attend-
ance, and for more than a week he remained night
and day beside the noble patient's couch. Under
the skilful treatment of Mr. Morgan, the Marquis at
length became rapidly convalescent. He felt sin-
cerely grateful to the young physician for ,his assi-
duous and efficient attention : and invited him on a
visit to his Irish seat at Baron's Court, County of
Tyrone, where the Marchioness was about to organ-
y Google
LITERARY AND PERSONAL. 163
ize some splendid /e^e* champitres. The invitation
was accepted. Anne, Marchioness of Abercorn, had
a select circle of guests on a visit at the house, and
amongst the number Miss Owensou. Mr. Morgan
was a widower, but more literary and romantic and
juvenile than the generality of widowers : a congeni-
ality of taste brought him and the young authoress
^nto frequent conversation. Time passed swiftly and
gaily, but in the midst of this festivity and frolic a
letter arrived, announcing the dangerous illness of
Eobert Owenson, and summoning his daughter
Sydney to Dublin. With weeping eyes, and a
aching heart— but not on Morgan^s account— she
bade the young widower a hurried adieu. Owenson
made a short rally and survived until May, 1812.
Surgeon Morgan, in the mean time, with a smitten
heart followed Miss Sydney Owenson to Dublin;
and persecuted her with declarations of the love
which filled him to distraction. The popular Duke
of Richmond invited the authoress and Mr. Morgan,
to one of the private balls at the Viceregal Court.
His Excellency, in the course of a lounging conver-
sation with Miss Owenson, playfully alluded to the
matrimonial report which had begun to be bruited
about, and expressed a hope to have the pleasure,
at no distant day, of congratulating her on her
marriage. " The rumour respecting Mr. Morgan's
denouement y^ she replied, " may or may not be
true, but this I can at least with all candour and
sincerity assure your Grace, that I shall remain to
the last day of my life in single blessedness, unless
some more tempting inducement then the mere
change from Miss Owenson, to Mistress Morgan be
offered me.'^ The hint was taken and Charles, Duke
of Richmond, in virtue of the powers of his oflBce,
knighted Surgeon Morgan upon the spot. .
M 2
Digitized byLjOOQlC
164 LADY HOEGAN^ H£E CAEEEB,^
Leaving her father in -improved health, Miss
Owenson accepted the renewed invitation of the
Marchioness of Abercorn, and returned to Baron's
Court. In the '^Gentleman's Magazine^' of the
day we read, '^January 20th 1812, at Baron's
Court, Tyrone, Sir C. T. Morgan, of London, to
Sydney, eldest daughter of the veteran Irish Comedian
Owenson, and author of ' The Wild Irish Girl,' and
' Woman, or Ida of Athens/ "
In connection with this desirable and happy
alliance, there is an interesting and romantic, though
very painful incident to be related. It is not
by any means generally known, and we are indebted
to the courtesy of Sir J. Emerson Tennent for
having communicated it. We shall give the details
in the words of that highly distinguished person.
Speaking of Lady Morgan who dined at Si? Emerson's
table a very short period previous to her death, he
observes :
" One great tie between her and my family was
the affection with which she regarded a mutual
friend, many years dead, the late Major Crossley of
Glenburn, near Belfast. And on the occasion I
am now alluding to. Lady Morgan, during dinner,
told me, for the first time, the story of their early
intimacy. Major Crossle/s family lived at Lisburn,
where she became acquainted with him, when her
father was on one of his professional tours, in the
North of Ireland. She was then very young, and
Crossley who was younger still, became so attached
to her as to offer marriage. She told me she would
have accepted him at once, but that neither of them
could boast of possessing a single shilling, and the
result was a prospective engagement, to be realized
only so soon as means were apparent for their future
subsistence. To devise this, she suggested as a
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LITERARY AND PERSONAL. 165
career, that an application should be made to the
Marquis of Hertford for a cadetship in the Indian
army, and as Crossley's family had some local claims,
their request was successful, and he was speedily
appointed to a regiment, in the Presidency of
Madras.
" The correspondence continued for some years ;
though so interruptedly, that a considerable sus-
pension took place, during which the lady's position
and prospects had been uniformly rising, and her
marriage was at length solemnized with Sir Charles
Morgan, the ceremony having taken place at Baron's
Court, the residence of Lord Abercorn, in the
County Tyrone. On the morning of the wedding,
the post arrived before the procession to the Church,
and the sister of the bride took charge of her letters
for Miss Owenson. These she opened on her return
to the house; and amongst them was one from
Crossley, accounting for his long silence by the
anxieties of a period of uncertainty, which had now
ended by his receiving some promotion in the army,
and a staif appointment in the service of the Nizam.
This was the long looked for point in his career, and
having at last attained independence, he wrote to
claim the performance of theiy early engagement, and
propose an immediate union.
^*The old lady told me this little novel— her anima-
tion heightened, at once by the romance and the
reality of the story, and its recollection is enhanced
to me by^ this^ having been one of the liveliest,
as it was the last interview I ever had with Lady
Morgan.*'*
. * Letter from Sir J. Emerson Tennent to the Author, September
12tb, 1859. We are fond of dates, and have accordingly obtained
from the East India House, the following particulars regarding
Captain Crossley's first commission and subsequent promotion
Digitized by VjGOQIC
166 LADY MORGAN, HER CAREER,
Lady Morgan would probably never have reached*
that great literary pre-eminence and celebrity, in
the midst of which her days closed, were it not for her
alliance with Sir Charles Morgai;. She has repeated-
ly confessed the advantages which her mind and
writings derived from his literary counsel and co-opera-
tion, and so lately as in Mr. Bryce's Eailway Edition
of her "Wild Irish Girl,'' the veteran authoress
earnestly alludes to " the long and ennobling com-
panionship with the great and cultivated intellect of
one who taught and prized truth above all human
good, and proclaimed it at the expense of all worldly
interests — such were the advantages of a more ma-
ture life ; such were the bright sources -which threw
in ''new lights through chinks, which time had
made/'
Thomas Charies Morgan first saw the light
in 1783, and was therefore the junior of his wife by
eight years. He was the only son of Mr. John Morgan
of Chariotte Street, Bloorcsbury, who observing great
intellectual promise in his son, spared no expense in
procuring for him the benefits of a first class educa-
tion. He first studied at Eton and the Charter
House ; at the age of eighteen he entered St. Peter's
College, Cambridge', distinguished himself as a Greek
scholar and a metaphysician, graduated as a Bachelor
of Medicine in 1804, and obtained a medical diploma
in 1809. Sir Thomas Charles Morgan, married first
the daughter of Mr. William Hammond of Queen's
Square," and by this lady he had one child, Anne
Hammond Morgan, who married in 1828, the late
Colonel St. John Blacker, and secondly, 30th April
** He arrived in India J 3th November, 1806. Ensign, 4th January,'
1807. Lieutenant, 5th September, 1811. Captain, 1st May,
1824. Retired from the service 4th January, 1836. Died, 18th
September, 1846."— Ed.
Digitized byLjOOQlC
LITERARY AND PERSONAL. 167,
1845, the Hon. George Browne, son of James, Lord
Kilraaiue.
The pleasure which filled Eobert Owenson at tlie
happy alliance of his daughter with Sir Charles
Morgan, was of sadly short duration. In the Dublin
newspapers of May 28th, 1812, we find his death an-
nounced with many earnest expressions of regret.
The ^^ Freeman^' mentions, with other interesting
facts, that " the revival of Irish Music within these
last thirty years was entirely owing to his exertions,
and his exquisite mode of singing his native airs,
with theit original words both in public and private.
He was passionately fond of literature, and was welf
known as the protector of many young Irishmf^n of
more talents than prudence. His conduct as a
father (having early lost his wife), went far beyond
the common line of parental duty and tenderness —
his pubHc Hfe considered, it was unexampled.^'' An-
other writer says : " ' Alas ! poor Yorick, I knew hire
we\W We might quote the whole of this beautifui
passage from Shakspeare, as illustrative of the merits
and talents of the gentleman who Jias lately paid the
debt to nature, and whose pubHc and private charac-
ter deserves our greatest eulogium. We may say
in honour of our country, tliat he was a true born
Irishman, with all its native honour and goodness of
heart. On the stage, none surpassed him in the
Milesian walk, and the house often resounded mth
encores for the repetition of his songs, which always
set the audience in a roar.^'
Owenson died at 44, North Great George^s Street,
at the residence of his son-in-law, Sir Arthur Clarke,
M.D» who in 1808, had led Miss Olivia Owenson to the
hymeneal altar. Having, in 1811, cured the Duke of
Eichmond of a cutaneous disease, Dr. Clarke received
the honour of Knighthood, and the freedom of the
Digitized byLjOOQlC
168 LADT MORGAN, HBE CAREER,
City of Dublin. In 1820 he established The Medicated
Bathing Institution, No. 18, Lower Temple Street,
which continued open to a comparatively recent period,
and was productive of very beneficial results to suffering
humanity. Sir Arthur always enjoyed a pun, and
used sometimes call himself the Knight of the Bath.
Although as small as Tom Moore, he loved to take
the arm of Judge Day in the street, a man of colos-
sal frame. The pair were, on one occasion, likened
to the twenty-first of June, inasmuch as they jointly
constituted the longest day and the shortest knight.
Sir Arthur published various medical treatises of
much ability, including works on tubercular con-
sumption, water, exercise, and diet. He was a
strong advocate for the hydropathic system of
medical treatment, and often had to bear many a
stupid sneer from those who pertinaciously adhered
to the old school and shut their eyes against convic-
tion. Among those who laughed at the water cure
was Charles Lamb. " There is nothing new or won-
derful in it,^^ he said dtyly, ^^ it is as old as the
deluge, and in my opinion has killed more than it
cured.^'
It was not until the publication of '' O'Donnel, a
National Tale,'' on March ist, 1814, that Lady Mor-
gan's claims to take her place among the best
novelists of the age became cordially and universally
recognised by the public. The authoress, as we have
said, was never so thoroughly at home as when on
Irish ground ; and in illustration of this fact, the no-
vels of" O'Donnel," " Florence McCarthy," and "The
O'Briens and CyFlahertys," are eminently conclusive.
These three essentially Irish tales — green from cover
to cover, and racy of the soil — form a national
literary shamrock, of which Ireland may well be
proud.
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LITBEAEY AND PEESONAL. 169
In the novel of " (JDonnel/^ Lady Morgan broke
new ground. She ceased to guide the adventures of
puerile novices of St. Dominick, crude Idas of
Athens, and frail Spanish missionaries in India.
(yConnel was the vanguard of a host of Celtic ideal
creations, profitable to study and worthy to imitate,
which tended, in no small degree, to break down the
Cockney prejudices which had so long existed, on
thcj other side of the Channel, against Ireland. This
novel displayed singular vigour of thought, and
knowledge of mankind ; and whether we laugh at
the native eccentricities of M^Rory, sigh for the
vicissitudes of the gallant (yDonnel, or smile at the
lavish nothingness of fashionable life, we must ac-
knowledge that we are under the influence of a spell
with which true genius alone could invest us.
Having determined upon taking Ireland as her
theme, she had sought in its records and chronicles
for the ground -work of a story, and the character of
a hero. The romantic adventures and unsubdued
, valour of (fDonnel the Red, Chief of Tirconnel, in
the reign of Elizabeth, seemed at the first glance
happily adapted to her purpose. At Baron's Court,
Tyrone, the Irish seat of Lord Abercorn, a great
portion of her work was written. Throughout the
year 1812, we find Lady Morgan in correspondence
with the late William Monck Mason, a man of con-
siderable Celtic erudition, on the subject of her
magnum opus. These interesting documents have
been placed at our disposal.
The following letter is franked by Lord Abercorn,
sealed with the name *' Glorvina/' and addressed to
'' W. Mason, Esq, Castle, Clontarf, Dublin.^' The
Italics and Capitals are according to the MS.
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170 LADY MORGAN, HER CAREER,
" Baron's Court, February 25th, 1812.
" My dear Sir
" I perceive I could never get on without you. A
thousand thanks for your communication, and for
the trouble you have taken. Betham could greatly
assist me, and with your interest, in my favor, I
dare say will. Be it remembered that Hugh O^Donel
(called " BalDeargh'') "the son o^ Magnus is my man.
I find many difficulties as to the domestic regime of
the Irish woJ/e^^e— whetlier they burnt lamps, or
flambeaux, whether they had any liquors besides
Spanish wines, or whether they had glass in their
castle windows ; these are the kind of trifles that
puzzle and retard me. Could Grose give me any
information ? and if you have him in your Library,
will you talk to him on the subject ?
'^ One more troublesome request, and I promise
truce for an age to come. Can you possibly procure
me Miss Brooks' translation oi Irish Poesy ?--lAo\\^t
mind the price, provided it is not quite exorbitant ;
if you can get it for love or money, will you have it
sent to Great George's Street, from whence it can
come by the mail, and by the return of the post,
I vjill discharge as much of the obligation as is
dischargeable.
*^ I should like very much an Irish Motto in Irish
character for the title page ; should you meet with
anything appropriate to heroism and love of country,
keep it for me.
'^ I am quite delighted to find you are so success-
fully, and I trust profitably occupied ; no one has the
secret of enjoying life more completely than your-
seK; the enthusiasm with which you enter on your
pursuits, and their own intrinsic rationality and taste-
fullness must be a source of exhaustless pleasure.
How I envy you, your castle, your prospects, your
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LITERARY AND PERSONAL. 171
wood cutting, your planting, and above all the
treasures of your library, and the pleasure you take
in collecting and increasing them ; add to these
your Handsome Jane and sweet children, and you
may say ' a fig for the Sophy of Persia \ kpropos to
handsome Jane, I suppose by this she has seen
Olivia.
" Farewell, dear Sir, be a little less kind, and
I shall be a little less troublesome; tho' never
less sincerely and gratefully yours, than at this
moment.
'^S. 0. M.
'^ Sir Charles longs to make the honour of your
acquaintance ; he is very much in your own style ;
that makes his panegyric''
Lady Morgan had advanced as far as the second
volume of her M.S., when she found it necessary to
forego her original plan. '^ In touching those parts
of Irish history,^^ as she herself remarks, ^' which
were ~ connected with my tale, it would have been
desirable to turn them into purposes of conciliation,
and to incorporate the leaven of favourable opinion
with that heavy mass of bitter prejudice, which
writers, both grave and trifling, have delighted to
raise against my country. But when I fondly thought
to send forth a dove bearing the olive of peace, I
found I was on the point of Singing an arrow winged
with discord. I had hoped, as far as my feeble
efforts could go, to extenuate the errors attributed to
Ireland, by an exposition of their causes, drawn from
historic facts ; but I found that, like the spirit in
^ Macbeth,' I should at the same moment hold up a
glass to my countrymen, reflecting but too many
fearful images. I discovered, far beyond my expec-
tation, that I had fallen upon ' evil men, and evil
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172 LADY MORGAN, HER CABEEE,
days / and that in proceeding, I must raise a veil
which ought never to be drawn, and should renew
the memory of events which the interests of humanity
require to be for ever buried in oblivion. I aban-
doned, therefore, my original plan, took up a happier
view of things, advanced my story to more modern
and more liberal times, and exchanged the rude chief
of the days of old, for his. polished descendant in a
more refined age/'
The object of this book was deep, and deserved, as
it still deserves, an outburst of national respect and
gratitude. Her introductory remarks to the edition
of ^'O'DonneV published in 1835, informs us that the
book was " undertaken with an humble but zealous
view to the promotion of a great national cause,—
the Emancipation of the Catholics in Ireland. The
attempt has been made the matter of grave censure,
as a step beyond the position of the Author, and
foreign to the scope of the genus. To this canon of
criticism I cannot yet subscribe. Novels, like more
solid compositions, are not exempted from the obliga-
tion to inculcate truth. They are expected, in their
idlest trifling, to possess a moral scope ; and politics
are but morals on a grander scale. The appropria-
tion of this form of composition to ptirposes beyond
those of mere amusement, is not new. A novel is
especially adapted to enable the advocate of any
cause to steal upon the public, through the bye- ways
of the imagination, and to win from its sympathies
what its reason so often refuses to yield to undeniable
demonstration. Even those sectarians who have
taken the highest measure of moral propriety, and
exclude with rigour all sources of amusement from
the sphere of a religious life, Jiave condescended thus
to use the novel for the advancement of their par-
ticular opinions — as an organ not less legitimate,
than powerful and effective/'
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UTEEAEY AND PERSONAL. 173
CHAPTER VI.
Critics' Cavils.— Sir W. Scott's opinion of "O'Donnel."— Sir C. and
Lady Morgan's visit to France. — Publication of her Great
Work.— Theattack of the " Quarterly."— Keply to that Attack.—
Lady Morgan grapples with her assailants. — Southey. — George
the Third suggests to the " Quarterly." — Correspondence. —
Jack Giffard. — The French Press on Lady Morgan. — Byron. —
" Florence McCarthy." — Correspondence. — Croker pilloried by
Lady Morgan. — ^The Slanders upon her Fame and Name. — Lady
Morgan's work 09 Italy. — Lady Caroline Lamb. — Lady Cork. —
Denon and La Fayette. — Lady Morgan's Salon in Paris. — Her
Singular Success. — Praised by Byron. — The " Quarterly " again.
— " Glorvina ! Glorvina ! beware of the day !"
Foe forty years it was fashionable, among a band
of ill-natured critics, headed by the late John Wilson
Croker, to ridicule and sneer down Lady Morgan's
pretensions as a novelist and a writer. Never liiid an
author more formidable critical antagonism to contend
with. Single-handed, Lady Morgan encountered
this terrific, organized, and almost impregnable band ;
and one by one they fell, vanquished and prostrate,
at her feet. Since the grave has closed over this
brilliant woman^s labours, a few have endeavoured to
regain their feet ; and availing themselves of an ad-
vantage so unworthy, they have sought to depreciate
the abilities of her whom, living, they cravenly feared.
It is pleasant, however, to be able to set the deliber -
ately recorded opinion of the greatest novelist that
ever lived, against the ill-natured, but perhaps not
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174 LADY MORGAN, HER CAREER,
uninfluential, snivelling, and drivelling to which we
have alluded. Sir Walter Scott was himself a
member of the Croker School in politics. He enter-
tained an unconquerable aversion to Lady Morgan's
liberal and progressive views ; and the following
remarks, committed to his private Diary, are therefore
the more to be valued. "I have amused myself
occasionally very pleasantly,'^ he writes, " during the
last few days, by reading over Lady Morgan's novel
of ^ O'Donnel,' which has some striking and beautiful
passages of situation and description, and, in the
comic part, is very rich and entertaining."
Shortly after the peace of 1814, Sir Charles and
Lady Morgan, full of a grand literary scheme, pro-
ceeded to France, and took advantage of every avail-
able opportunity to " mark, note, study, and inwardly
digest," the manners, customs, history, idiosyncracy,
tendencies and political posture of that great nation.
It was no difficult task for Lady Morgan to draw
upon her fertile brain for gushes of pleasant fiction ;
but in attempting to walk in the footsteps of Mungo
Park, Eustace, Bruce, Campbell, and Buckhardt, she
trod a new and most laborious path. The counsel
and companionship of Sir Charles Morgan, however,
. proved an invaluable auxiliary. His sound judg-
ment, philosophical mind, and firm principles, were
well baiculated to correct a woman's rapid inferences,
and keep down the tone of a novelist's high colour-
ing fancy. His only fault consisted in a tendency to
materialism.
Though a Fellow of the Eoyal College of Physi-
cians, and constantly associating with distinguished
members of that profession. Sir Charles Morgan re-
linquished medical practice at an early period of life,
and devoted himself exclusively to literary- and
political pursuits. Sometimes, but not often, he
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LITERARY AND PERSONAL. 175
wrote, in a popular manner, on medical subjects.
His " Outlines on the Philosophy of Life/^ had for its
object the diffusion of a more general knowledge of
the fundamental facts of Physiology. The book was
an able one, and very successfully conveyed a popular
view of the leading facts in Physiology, as they bear
more especially on the moral and social animal.
In the autumn of 1815, we find Lady Morgan in
Prance, picking up materials for her great work.
General Lawless, the distinguished united Irish
Refugee, writing to his kinsman. Lord Cloncurry,
from Paris, on August 15th, 1815, says of Lady
Morgan. ^'I like extremely this lady; she is
agreeable, witty, and with as little conceit as can be
found in a woman of her merit.^'
The thorough fascination which even a momen-
tary interview with Lady Morgan produced, having
become quite proverbial, peculiar facilities of access
to the most exclusive circles of the gay metropolis,
at once opened invitingly before her. Fated to
encounter no contretemps, or, "accidents by flood
and field,'^ from which few travellers, forty years
ago, were exempt, she was feted in another sense
wherever she went, and brilliant successes marked
every step in her progress. No reserve was main-
tained — with the state of everything and everybody
the Wild Irish Girl was made au courant. Intel-
lectually enriched by these invaluable opportunities
for observation. Lady Morgan^s notes on France
daily expanded beneath her hand, -while their style
glittered brilliantly from the polishing touches of
her elaborating pen. Amid a fever of expectation
at home and abroad, this remarkable book was at
length born to the world. In France, the Constitu-
^iowe/— then a most influential newspaper — reports
progress : " La curiosite publique est vivement excitee
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176 LADY MOEGAN, HER CAREER,
par Fannonce de la nouvelle ouvrage de Ladi Morgan
— 'La France' — des extraits en ontet^ dejk lus dans
les reveles particuliers et ces essais ont produit le
plus grand entliousiasme — on va presqu'a dire qu'il
n'a ate rien ecrit de plus brilliant, ni qui donna une
idee plus exacte de la societe et des manieres de
Paris— cet ouvrage doit paraitre h Paris et Londres
en meme temps dans la semaine prochaine, Ton ajoute
que les critiques fran^ais taillent d^jk leurs plumes V
The Journal de Paris, another highly influential
newspaper, tells us: — "Lady Morgan has been
run after, entertained, and almost worshipped in
all our fashionable circles. She has studied us
^ from head to foot, from court to village, from the
boudoir to the kitchen. She has seen, observed,
analysed and described everything, men and things,
speeches and characters/'
"France,'' which may be regarded as the chef-
d'osuvre of Lady Morgan, is divided into eight books.
The first treats of the peasantry; the second and
third of society. The three next are devoted to an
account of Paris. The seventh book is consecrated
aiuv spectacles. The eighth and last, comprises
sketches of the leading literary characters and
eminent people of France, while the whole is richly
spangled with a number of curious and out-of-the-
way anecdotes.
This complicated and laborious task. Lady Mor-
gan executed with all the spirit inherent to an
ardent mind, and all the independance which is
characteristic of an honest and a courageous one.
Her remarks on French society, possessed peculiar
interest, for they were not founded on hearsay, or
on the result of metaphysical speculatioi^ but were
drawn from actual, and apparentlj{ very close obser-
vation. Exploring with care and accuracy' the
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LrrEBARY AND PERSONAL. 177
springs of political action, among all the factions
which then disturbed and distracted the breast of
La Belle France, Lady Morgan's work, while it
afforded the friends of Liberty a high and valued
treat, stung corruption' to madness and revenge.
Energetically written, lively, but not flippant, original,
without affectation, polished, but not labored,
and graphic without redundancy, the reader finds
liimself transported into the midst of the gay scenes
which she so vividly and temptingly pourtrays.
Whether Lady Morgan converses with the glittering
courtier, the petit proprietaire of a few acres, the
lady of high rank, or the great literary or political
lion, we make one of the party, and at length retire
from the conversazione, sometiaies instructed, often
refreshed, always • amused. But the salons of the
great would seem to have had less attraction for
Lady Morgan, than the practical acquaintance,
which, for generous purposes, she formed with the
French peasantry. Happy as seemed their condi-
tion, she did not view it with unmixed pleasure.
When she beheld the bright cottage garden, and the
various comforts of the contented French peasants, the
remembrance of the then wretched, oppressed, and
degraded population of her own country hurried
to her mind, and furnished a contrast and compari-
son which, in a mind so sensitive as hers, must have
created very painful sensations. " The finest flowers
in France,'' she writes, '' are now to be found in the
peasant's garden — the native Rose de Provence—
the stranger rose of India, entwine their blossoms,
and grow together amidst the rich foliage of the vine,
which scales the gable, and creeps along the roof, of
the cottage. I have seen a French peasant as proud
of his tulips as any stock-jobber florist of Amsterdam,
and Eeard him talk of bis carnations as if he had
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178 LADY MORaAir, HER CAEBER,
been the sole possessor of the semper Augustus I Oh !
when shall I behold near the peasant's hovel in my
own country other flowers than the bearded thistle
which there raises its lonely head, and scatters its
down upon every passing blast; or the scentless
shamrock, the unprofitable blossom* of the soil,
which creeps to be trodden upon, and is gathered
only to be plunged in the inebriating draught,
commemorating annually the fatal illusions of the
people, and drowning in the same tide of madness
their emblems and their wrongs/'
This pleasingly expressed allusion to the national
practice of drowning the shamrock in a bowl of
punch, does not seem to have proved intelligible
to Lady Morgan's English critics ; for her old foe,
the '' Quarterly Eeview," in a violent diatribe, trium-
phantly quoted the paragraph, as a specimen of '^ the
utter nonsense'' which filled the book, and defied
any reader to gues? what such fine language as the
above could possibly mean.
Lady Morgan's representations not being very
favourable to the pretensions of legitimacy, her
work, as a matter of course, was attacked with all
the malignity and virulence for which the " Quarterly"
when under the Croker and Gifi'ard management,
was celebrated. The unmanly attack of the Review
recoiled on itself. People began to ask themselves
if the cause which it advocated was so totally defence-
less by argument, so inadequately supported by
physical force, as to require all the aid of scurrility,
misrepresentation, and falsehood, to repel the at-
tacks of its opponents.
The critic's revival of the old taunt which charged
all sentiments hostile to the narrow views of a fac-
tion with Jacobinism, was perhaps the less objec-
tionable point in his review, since even the res-
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LITERARY AND PERSONAL. 179
tricted press of Paris had previously done justice to
Lady Morgan^s political sentiments, and acknow-
ledged that she had drawn the true line of distinc-
tion between the friends of freedom, and the partisans
of licence. Indeed all the critical torture which
could possibly be applied to isolated passages, and
ex parte statements, failed to disguise the spirit
of British liberty in which her work was pomposed.
For this reason we shall not stop to notice all the
distortions, and disingenuous suppressions by which
the reviewer sought to substantiate his charge. But
as the elaborate article in ijuestion remains on
record in every important library, public and
private, it is only fair that we give the same perma-
nence to a brief detection of some of the many
"ignorances and lies, by implication and deceif
(to quote the reviewer's words) which animate his
unmanly criticism. '
Lady Morgan called the family of La Fayette
"patriarchal and this the critic absurdly con-
strues into making La Fayette's children and
grandchildren the patriarchs. Passing over the
reviewer's misconception of the obvious elisions—
" no primogeniture'' for " no right of primogeniture,"
of "Palais Conservateur^' for ^^ Palais du Senat
Conservateur," &c., we arrive (p. 267) at another
false statement. Lady Morgan does not " make the
low stupid blunder" of mistaking Pere Elise for a
confessor : nor does she draw a comparison between
his "spiritual influence over Louis XVIIL, and
that of Pere de la Chaise over Louis XIV." Thirdly,
the reviewer denies bouqttets d'arbres to be good
French. He ought to have known that it was
not only a phrase in daily use, but employed by some
of the best authors. Fourthly, he quarrels with the
translation of " menin" by the word mifiion. The
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180 LADT MORGAN, HER CAREER,
oflfensive meaning attached to it rested, in this
instance, solely with the reviewer. *^ Like valour's
minion/' occurs in Macbeth. "Sweet Fortune^s
minion,'^ and " mirdons of the moon," in Henry lY.
But a hundred other instances might be cited to
justify Lady Morgan^s application of this word.
Men in is derived from mener, and signifies a friend,
a follower. Fifthly, the etymology of Carousel,
criticized at p. 269, is from Madame de Genlis,
who surely ought to know French better than a
British Reviewer.
Sixthly, Lady Morgan does not say that she knew
persons who lived under Louis XIV. The reviewer
must have been very ignorant of Parisian life not
to have known that '^ Voltiyeur de Louis XIV,"
was then, and has been constantly since, applied in
Paris as a sobriquet to the emigrant superannuated
ofBcers of the remodelled army. Seventhly, Lady
Morgan did not mistake Cherubin for the singular
number of Cherubim. This gratuitous charge rose
out of the reviewer's ignorance that Cherubin is the
name of the fwawrfiYjofl^e in Beaumarchais' comedy.
Eighthly, Lady Morgan did not suppose the Battle
of Fontenoy, at which the Irish Brigade obtained
its memorable victory over the British, to have been
fought under Louis XIV. She expressly attributes
it to the reign of *his successor — besides compagnes
a la rose is not *' jargon."
Ninthly, the reviewer seems not to have been
aware that " the atheist Voltaire?' wrote repeatedly
and vehemently against atheism. Moreover, it
would, perhaps, have slightly altered the critic's
tone had he read the recently published book of
Lord Broughton, in which many misapprehen-
sions in regard to Voltaire's real views are dispelled,
and the evidence of the man who acted for thirty
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LITERARY AND PERSONAL. 181
years as Voltaire's private secretary adduced, from
whicli we learn that during that long period Voltaire
was never known to utter, even in the unguarded
intimacy of friendship, any remark of an infidel
character. This, although strongly disapproving of
Voltaire's writings, we deem it necessary to say.
Tenthly, Lady Morgan says : *^ bastilles, lettres
de cachet, mysterious arrest, and solitary con6ne-
ment started upon my imagination, and I had
already classed myself with the Iron Mask, and
caged Mazarine, the Wilsons, Hutchinsons, and
Bruces.'' To this the reviewer (p. 280) replies :
" This is the lie by implication : Wilson, Hutchin-
son, and Bruce had grievously violated the laws ;
they were openly arrested, legally confined, pub-
lically tried, criminally sentenced, and generously
pardoned.'' Now what are the facts? Wilson,
Bruce and Hutchinson were buried au secret in the
gloomy cells of La Force on a bailable offence. Ill
this illegal confinement they weie detained until
they would confess the truth of the charge. After
two months' detention they were accused of high
treason, and remained one fortnight under' that
unjust accusation. At length the latter indictment
was cancelled as an act of justice, and in opposition
to the wishes and passions of the court and the
government. Nor were they ever generously par-
doned. At the expiration of their sentence, and.
after seven months' imprisonment, they were released
from captivity. — See the " Morning Chronicle," of
September 6, 1817.
Belying in their own conduct the Scripture pre-
cepts of "Charity envieth not, thinketh no evil,
and rejoiceth in the truth," and ** Judge not that
you be not judged," the Quarterly Reviewers coolly
remind the reader that on a former occasion they
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182 lADY MOBOAK^ HEB CABEEB^
recommended the Bible to Lady Morgan's perusal,
a request which they regret to find has been dis-
regarded; while at p. 283, they inconsistently
declare that Lady Morgan parodies Scripture for
the purpose of turning it into ridicule, an accusation
perfectly gratuitous.
But the most serious charge against the reviewer
has yet to be made. Lady Morgan viewed many
Catholic customs on the Continent with an eye of
prejudice ; and amongst the number certain proces-
sions in honour of the Blessed Vigin. It may be
premised that in the revolutionary days of anarchy
nearly every statue of the Holy Mother had been
broken or defaced by sacrilegious hands, and
Madonnas became very scarce in consequence.
The reviewer disingen,uously suppresses this fact,
and garbles a passage of Lady Morgan's for tJie
purpose of upbraiding her with licentious writing !
After a damaging preamble the " Quarterly'* quotes
from our authoress : " The priests to their horror
could not find a single Virgin, and were at last
obliged to send to a neighbouring village to request
the loan of a Virgin, A Virgin was , at last pro-
cured ; a little indeed the worse for the wear ; but
this was not a moment for fastidiousness, and the
Madonna' was paraded through the streets." The
critic requests his readers (p. 281,) to consider what
manner of woman she must be who displays such
detestable grossness of which even a jest book would
be ashamed, and cautions every parent against
allowing Lady Morgan's work into his family, or
his drawing-room. By" referring to the original
passage it will be perceived that the reviewer has care-
fully omitted the words '' to carry in procession/^
This unworthy distortion has often since been adopt-
ed on the authority of the " Quarterly ieview. It
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LITERAEY AND PEESONAL. 188
may be found in Playfair's work on France. Lady
Morgan in noticing some charges of immorality,
which, in 1821, had been made upon her, said,
" Once for all, I appeal from the reviewers to the
works themselves. Let me be judged by what I
have written ; and not by the commentaries of my
enemies, or the dislocated passages they choose to put
forward for their own purposes/^
The "Quarterly Review'^ in the same article strongly
animadverted on Lady Morgan^s admiration of the *
'Wain, feeble, doating coxcomb, Lafayette/' His
deliberate resignation of the title of Marquis is not
quite consistent with the character of a vain cox-
comb. But let Lady Morgan vindicate him. In
1830 she thus referred to that flippant criticism.
" It will scarcely be credited that such a state-
ment, in defiance of historical fact, and of con-
temporary witnesses, and in utter recklessness of
European opinion, should have been put forth to
the British public, to work upon its timidity, and to
insult its ignorance. Yet this picture of the idol of
two great nations, of the friend of Washington and
of Jeflferson, of Fox and of La Rochefoucauld, of the
respected of Napoleon, and the eulogised of Charles
the Tenth— of iihe most illustriously virtuous man of
his age and country, of the most consistent public
character in ancient or modem story —this picture,
in which every trait is a falsehood, and every touch a
calumny, was risked by the paid organ of the British
Government, and was received unquestioned by the
British nation I"
Owing, we suppose, to the dearth of legitimate
materials for hostile criticism, our reviewer found it
expedient to devote considerable sp^ce to some
strictures on the score of " bad spelling.^' But Lady
Morgan's preface ought to have disarmed criticism.
Digitized byLjOOQlC
184 LADY MORGAN, HEE CAREER,
at least on this head. '^ Having bound myself to my
publisher/^ she writes, " to be ready fop the Press
before April, I was obliged to compose a trait de
plume, id send off the sheets chapter by chapter,
without the power of detecting repetitions by com-
parison, and without the hope of correction. from the
perusal of proof sheets. Printing in one country,
and residing in another, it was not to be expected
that the press would wait upon the chances of wind
and tide, for returns, in, or out of course/'
But it is useless to analyse further this unmanly
attack. To complete the task of developing its
mistakes and misstatements would exceed, if possible,
the tediousness of its author. We shall therefore
turn to a light poetical version of the critique whicli
from its pith and point is not likely to fatigue the
reader. It is from the pen of Sir Charles Morgan.
The book we review is the -v^ork of a woman,
A fact which we think will be guessed at by no man,
Who notes the abuse which our virulent rage,
Pours forth on its author, in every page.
And who is this woman — no recent offender,
A Jacobin, Shanavest, Whiteboy, Defender.
She who published " O'Donnel," which (take but our word)
Is a moi strous wild " tissue of ali* that's absurd " —
Indeed' there's a something in all her romances,
Which, to tell our opinion, does not hit our fancies,
No, give us a novel whose pages unfold
The glories of that blessed aera of old,
When Princes legitimate trod on the people,
And the Church was so high^ that it out-topp'd the steeple.
No, give us somfe Methodist's maudling confusion.
Religion in seeming, in fact, persecution ;
Some strange Anti-Catholic orthodox whining.
At this age of apostacy wildly repining ! I
This Woman I — we scarce could believe when we read,
Retorts all the charges we heaped on her head;
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LITERARY AND PERSONAL, 185
And leads to rebellion young authors, by shewing,
That calling hafd names is by no medns reviewing.
She boasts that we've not spoiled her market in marriage,
That vainly her morals and wit we disparage !
Blit surely that man is the boldest in iife,
Who, in spite of our ravings, could take her for wife ;
And therefore we now set him down without mercy
As the slave of enchantment, " the victim of Circe."
Now to come to the matter in hand — we advance
'Tis "an impudent lie," when she calls her book " France;"
A title that would not be characteristic,
Unless for a large Gazeteer or Statistic.
Next comes her arrangement ! — when this we denounce
We must eke out our charge with a bit of a bounce ;
And o'erlook the confusion which reigns in our head,
To charge it at once, on her book in the stead —
Of this book, my good readers, in vain you may hope
An account of its merits, its plan or its scope ;
For the tale she relates does not chime with the view
Which we take of France in our loyal review.
And though we should rail, till our paper were shrinking,
Alas ! we should but set the people a thinking ;
On the list of errata 'twere better to seize.
For thence we may conjure what blunders we please.
These, mixed with the few, which the best author makes,
In a work of such length, and our own worse mistakes;
With some equivocation, and sonfte ** direct lies,**
Of abuse will provide our accustomed supplies ;
Which largely diluted with loyalty rant,
With much hypocritical methodist cant,
Misquotations, mistatements, distortions of phrase.
Will set the half-thinkers (we judge) in amaze,
And this " worm most audacious," this " woman so mad,"
This compound of all that's presumptuous and bad,
(Tho' we should not succeed in repressing her book,
And the youth of our land on its pages still look,)
Will perceive, with her friends, midst the people of fashion,
That the " Quarterly " scribe's in a desperate passion —
Postscriptum — we'd near made a foolish omission
And forgotten a slur on her second Edition.
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186 LADY MORGAN, HER CAREER,
Though perhaps, after all, she may have the last word,
And reply to our " wholesome " remarks — ^by a third —
And thus, hke a sly and an insidious joker,
The malice defeat of an hireling Croker ! ! !
The allusion in the foregoing to her Ladyship
having retorted the charges of the " Quarterly/' has
reference to some spirited observations which oc-
curred in the Preface to the first edition of" France."
It may be perceived that Lady Morgan received the
furious charge of the " Quarterly^' on the point of her
already fixed bayonet. " While I thus endeavour/'
she goes on to say in a preface which modestly
sought to excuse some trivial imperfections incidental
to the haste with which the book was written,
"while I thus endeavour to account for faults, I
cannot excuse ; and to solicit the indulgence of that
public from whom I have never experienced severity,
1 make no effort to deprecate professional criticism,
because I indulge no hope from its mercy. There is
one review, at least, which must necessarily place me
under the ban of its condemnation; and to which
the sentiments and principles scattered through the
following pages (though conceived and expressed in
feelings, the most remote from those of local or party
policy) will afford an abundant source of accusation,
as being foreign to its own narrow doctrines, and
opposed to its own exclusive creed. I mean the
' Quarterly Review.' It may look like presumption to
hope, or even to fear its notice; but /, at least,
know by experience, that in the omniscience of its
judgment it can stoop, ' To break a butterfly upon a
wheel/ It is now nearly nine years since that review se-
lected me as an example of its unsparing severity ; and
deviating from the true object of criticism, made its stric-
tures upon one of the most hastily composed and insig-
nificant of my early works a vehicle for an unprovoked
Digitized byV^OOQlC
LITERARY AND PERSONAL. 187
and wanton attack upon thepersonal character andprin-
ciples of the author. The slander thus hurled against
a young and unprotected female, struggling in a path
of no ordinary industry and effort, for purposes
sanctified by the most sacred feelings of nature,
happily fell hurtless. The public of an enlightened
age, indulgent to the critical errors of pages compos-
ed for its amusement, under circumstances, not of
vanity or choice, but of necessity, has, by its coun-
tenance and favour, acquitted me of those charges
under which I was summoned before their awful
tribunal, and which tended to banish the accused
from society, and her works from circulation; for
'licentiousness, profligacy, irreverance, blasphemy,
libertinism, disloyalty, and atheism,^ were no venial
errors. Placed by that public in a definite rank
among authors, and in no undistinguished circle of
society, alike as woman and as author, beyond the
injury of malignant scurrility, whatever form it may
assume, I would point out to those who have yet to
struggle through the arduous and painful career
that I have ran, the feebleness of unmerited calumny,
and encourage those who receive with patience and
resignation the awards of dignified and legitimate
criticism, to disregard and contemn the anonymous
slander with which party spirit arms its strictures,
under the veil of literary justice.
'• In thus recurring to the^ severe chastisement
which my early efforts received from the judgment
of the ' Quarterly Review/ it would be ungrateful to
conceal that it placed 'My bane and antidote at
once before me;' and that in accusing me of
'licentiousness, profligacy, irreverence, blasphemy,
Hbertinism, disloyalty, and atheism,' it presented a
nostrum of universal eflBcacy, which was to trans-
form my vices into virtues, and to render me, in its
Digitized byLjOOQlC
188 LADY MORGAN, HEE CAEEER,
own words, 'not indeed a good writer of novels,
but a useful friend, ^faithful wife, a tender mother,
and a respectable and happy mistress of a family.'
lo effect this purpose, 'so devoutly to be
wished. It prescribed a simple remedy j 'To purchase
immediately a spelling booh, to which, iu process of
time, might be added a pocket dictionary, and to
take a few lessons in joining-hand ; which superadded
to a httle common sense, in place of idle raptures,'
were finally to render me that valuable epitome of
temale excellence, who^e price Solomon has declared
above rubies.
"While I denied the crimes thus administered to,
1 took, the advice for the sake of its results ; and like
tcelebs m search of a wife,' with his ambulating
virtues, I set forth with my Mavoe and Entick in
search of that conjugal state, one of the necessary
qualifications for my future excellencies. With my
dictionary m my pocket, with my spelling book in
one hand, and my copper-plate improvements in the
other, 1 entered my probation; and have at last
(thanks to the 'Quarterly Review') obtained the
reward of my calligraphic and orthographic acquire-
ments. As it foretold, I am become, in spite of the
seven deadly sins' it laid to my charge, ' not indeed
a good writer of novels,' but, I trust, ' a respectable,'
and, I am sure, ' a happy mistress of a family.'
" In the fearful prophecy so long made, that I
should never vmte a good novel, the 'Quarterly
-Keview, m its benevolence, will at least not be
displeased to learn that I have written some that have
been successful; and that while my Glorvinas,
liuximas and LoUottes, have pleaded my cause at
Dome, like 'very Daniels,' they have been received
abroad with equal favour and indulgence; and that
U Uonnel has been transmitted to its author, in
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LITERAEY AND PEESONAL. 189
three different languages. Having thus, I hope,
settled ^ my long arrear of Gratitude with Alonzo/
I am now ready to begin a new score ; and await the
sentence of my quondam judge, in the spirit of
one,
" * Who neither courts nor fears
His favour nor his hate.* "
But even assuming that Lady Morgan's talents
were far from being of the first order, the violent
denunciations of her reviewers were quite unjustifiable.
It had hitherto been held a sacred maxim* in the
canons of criticism that when a female became a
candidate for literary fame, even though her merits
were not of the brightest, her very sex formed an
appeal to the heart which forbid acrimony of censure,
much less violent invective, or falsity of accusation,
and secured at least the appearance of respect, even
in the absence of those complimentary speeches
which have been considered, from time immemorial, a
species of homage justly due to the fair sex. In
'^The Statesman,^' an able "Whig newspaper of the
day, the authorship of the violent attack of the
" Quarterly^' which charged Lady Morgan with little
short of the seven deadly sins, is confidently attri-
buted not to Croker, but to the pen of the laureats
Robert Southey. We transcribe a portion of this
article. The violent tone of recrimination which
pervaded Whig and Tory antagonism in those days
is curious to glance back upon. '^ As Burke said,'^
observes ' The Statesman,' ^^ ' the age of chivalry is
gone,' and a race of literary ruffians and political
renegades have sprung up, who, to repay the world
for the detestation in which they are held, spurn at .
every honourable feeling; and, insensible to the
restraints of conscience, neither regard the claims of
Digitized byLjOOQlC
190 LADY MORGAN, HER CAREER,
age or sex, of wisdom or virtue, but wage rude and
indiscriminate war with all who will not consent to
be as base, wicked, and infamous as themselves.
By one of these literary assassins. Lady Morgan has
had the honour of being attacked. It comes from
the pen of that skulking and malignant renegade, the
author of ' Wat Tyler/ and appears in that ponder-
ous production of scurrility and venom, the ^ Quarterly
Review/ In this attack, all that is contemptible in
the petty y all that is cowardly and cutting in the
malignanty all that is scurrilous in vulgar venom, are
employed to wound the feelings and injure the
reputation of Lady Morgan. Would it be believed,
that, in this age and country, a being so thoroughly
despicable and degraded could be found, as to charge
this lady with all that is false, all that is licentious,
all that is blasphemous. All who are acquainted with
the ^ Wild Irish Girl,' and ^O'DonneV will know
what station to assign the pensioned renegade, who
has thus, with savage ferocity, assailed her reputa-
tion. Here, for the present, we take ^pave of this
apostate and his prostituted labours, until we have
an opportunity of contrasting some of his own
Jacobinical works, with his recent lucubrations in his
dark and scowling ' Quarterly Review.' ''
In the selection from Southey's letters, edited by his
son, we find no allusion to this critical assault on
Lady Morgan; although Southey repeatedly speaks
of his laborious contributions to the " Quarterly,"
and of the high estimation in which they were held
by the Government. Lord Liverpool, we learn, sent
for Southey, and overwhelmed him with protestations
of gratitude and esteem. Warter's selection of
Sout hey 's letters, reveals that George the Third inter-
meddled with some political articles in the *^ Quarterly
Review.''
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LITEBAEY AND PERSONAL. 191
Blackmarked by the " Quarterly ;'' denounced by
" Blackwood \' poo-pooed by fhe pious " Mair^ and
'^Packet;" and scowled at by puritanical old dowagers,
poor Lady Morgan's Irish receptions began to exhibit
some temporary symptoms of a falling off in fashion-
able attendance. As a cruel cotemporary Tory satire
has it :
" While carriages roll thro* the street of Kildare,
Due south to the Grben, and due north to the Square,
Will none check their steeds, as in triumph they prance,
At the door of the travelling lady from Fiance ?"
The " Freeman's Journal" was not alone the most
influential of the liberal organs of Ireland at the
period of which we write, but enjoyed a circulation
exceeding that of any of its contemporaries, as appears
from an official return published in the " Freeman" of
May 17, 1817. The editor of this journal from
1813 to 1818, was Michael Staunton, Esq., now an
important public officer in Dublin. In Lady Morgan^s
recently published *^ Odd Volume," Mr. Staunton is
twice alluded to, fir^t (p. 149) in a letter dated Paris,
October 31, 1818, and again in another communica-
tion, dated March, 1819. The following letter, clirono-
logically in place here, is addressed to Mr. Staunton : —
Private.
" Lady Morgan presents her compliments to the
Editor of the ^ Freeman's Journal.' Having learnt
that during her recent absence from Dublin, he has
had the kindness to mention her new work with
approbation, she takes the earliest opportunity of
ofiFering her acknowledgments. She begs at the same
time to mention, that as the hireling presses of
London, Paris, and Dublin, are at this moment let
loose against her work on France, and as the ' Dublin
Journar has declared that the long tirade it has
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192 LADY MORGAN, HEE CAEEER,
inserted against her from ' Galignani's Messenger/
has been translated expressly for its columns ! Lady
Morgan would be extremely happy to place in the
hands of the Editor of the ' Freeman's JoarnaF some
French critiques on her work, this moment received
from Paris, and done by the most eminent b'terary
characters on the continent, and forming a complete
refutation to the paragraphs inserted in the ' Courier,'
' Dublin Journal,' &c., &c.
" If the Editor could call on Lady Morgan any
time to-morrow, and mention at what hour, Lady
Morgan will be happy to see him, and trusts that he
will have the goodness to pardon the trouble she gives
him in favour of a cause of which he has already
shewn himself the unsolicited, able and liberal
champion/'
The ludicrous blunder about '^ GaMgnani's Mes-
senger" is quite characteristic of the "Dublin
Journal." This newspaper was first established by
Alderman Faulkner, the friend of Swift, Chesterfield,
and the leading politicians and literateurs of the
time. Faulkner having ably edited the paper for
fifty years, it at length came into the hands of an
illiterate and illiberal person named John Giflard, who
infused into its tone such " violence, virulence, vul-
garity, and mendacity, that in the present date its
advocacy would be held detrimental to the cause of
any party." » Yet Gifi'ard, originally a blue-coat boy,
was preferred to places of honour and emolument by
the Government. Giff'ard's personal demeanour was
as morose as his pen was truculent ; an3 for many
years he enjoyed the sobriquet of " the dog in office,"
and his paper that of " the Dog's Journal." Giffard
having accused Grattan of treasonable designs, the
great orator retorted .thus : " It proceeds from the
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LITERARY AND PERSONAL. 193
hired traducer of his country, the excommanicated of
his fellow citizens, the regal rebel, the unpunished
ruflBan, the bigoted agitator. In tlie city, a firebrand ;
in the court, a liar; in the streets, a bully ; in the
field, a coward. And so obnoxious is he to the very
party he wishes to espouse, that he is only support-
able by doing those dirty acts the less vulgar refuse
to execute," Giffard pocketed the insult. The last
number of the " Dublin Journal'' appeared in 1825.
Lady Morgan concludes her letter to Mr. Staunton
with a remark complimentary to the "Freeman's
Journal." This cannot be classed among the empty
compliments which some people are fond of paying v
to their friends through the safe and comparatively
irresponsible medium of 4)rivate letters, but which
they would shirk from stating publicly or in print.
A stem sense of sincerity and consistency formed one
of Lady Morgan's fairest characteristics. Among the
notes to the first chapter of " Florence M'Carthy,"
it is declared that " The ^ Freeman's Journal' is one
of the most spirited, popular, and best conducted
papers in the Empire."
''Le Journal des Debats," the organ of the
French Court, was the architype from which all
the minor revilers of Lady Morgan took their
tone. From these duU plagiaries, in which scurrility
takes the place of analysis, and flippant asser-
tion is substituted for proof, it is gratifying to turn
to the more important and liberal criticisms of
the "Journal General," the "Journal de Paris,"
"Chronique de Paris," "Le Constitutionel," and
"Mercure de France." It was to these critiques
that Lady Morgan, in her letter to Mr. Staunton,
refers. One, from the pen of Benjamin Constant, the
distinguished orator and constitutionalist, we are
tempted to transcribe. Constant refutes in detail,
o
Digitized by VjOOQ IC
194 LADY MORGAN^ HER CAREER^
and with admirable temper, the petulant objec-
tions advanced by Lady Morgan's foes. "If/' he
writes, "she had represented the French as a
debased and depraved nation ; if she had lamented
over the corruption of manner, and the absence
of morality and religion; if, in short, in com-
paring the existing moment with former epochs,
she had presented a touching eulogium of the
Gabelle and the Corvee (of whichjshe does not speak
with the greatest reverence,) it is possible that her
work would have been vaunted as a chef'd^€euvre, her
literary heresies would have been passed over, and
every formula of praise would have been employed to
push her writings into public estimation. But Lady
Morgan prefers a Constitutional Government to
arbitrary powers ; she elevates France, as it now is,
above the France of former times; and these are
faults which no virtues can redeem. It has been
made a serious charge against her, that she has
attempted to excuse the crimes of the revolution. I
have read her work and find no ground for such an
accusation. Wherever the author speaks of that
period of mourning and anarchy, the reign of terror,
her language expresses the indignation with which
she is penetrated. Whence then can this charge have
originated ? It is not diflBcult to discover. Lady Morgan
does not unite in the same proscription the genuine
lovers of liberty, and those sanguinary monsters, who,
while invoking its name, were its most bitter enemies ;
she does not make it a crime in the Patriots of 1789,
that they were ignorant of the secret of futurity ; she
absolves Philosophy from the errors of ignorance, and
from the excesses of faction — and such opinions are
not to expect toleration. The distinction she has
thus drawn between the partisans of license, and the
sincere friends of a regulated liberty, does honour to
her discernment ; it is just; and it requires all the
Digitized by VjUUV It:
LITERARY AND PERSONAL. 195
blindness of thwarted personal interest not to per-
ceive it. Such are the opinions of Lady Morgan,
and it is in this sense alone that she is revolutionary ;
she will console herself from imputations thus
hazarded, by reflecting how diflBcult it is, at certain
epochs, to speak the truth, without injuring interests
and shocking prejudices, which resist all modifica-
tion or compromise. She will console herself, above
all, in the conviction, that every enlightened and
liberal mind will applaud the use she has made of
her rare talents in the work under consideration.^'
An eminent thinker has said, that were we to call
everything by its right name we should be stoned in
the streets ; and the reception which Lady Morgan's
frank and truthful book met with tended to confirm
the upothegm. In De Constant she found a steadfast
and able ally. Strong links of friendship continued
to bind them together until the death of the great
constitutionalist in 1830 broke them up.
The wholesome truths to which our authoress gave
energetic expression led to a decision on the part of
the then French Government, to refuse her re-admis-
sion to the country — a mandate, which, as we shall
see, both Sir Charles and Lady Morgan, conscious of
their rectitude, disregarded.
The attack made on " France,'' in the " Quarterly
Eeview," produced an effect as unexpected by the
author as the critic. It promoted the sale of the
work it was intended to suppress, of which four
editions in England, two in France, and four in
America were rapidly exhausted, " Even the chiefs of
the Tory Party," said Lady Morgan, "aflFected in
public to be ashamed of the clumsy and ungentlemanly
manner in which their work was done. In private,
however, they asked the reviewers to their tables, on
the strength of such exertions."
o 2
Digitized by LjOOQ IC
196 LADY MOEGANj HER CABBEB^
Lord Byron was no admirer of Lady Morgan, and
abused her Athenian heroine in one of the notes to
" Childe Harold." Yet even he, as we gather from a
private letter addressed by him to his friend Murray,
publisher of the ^^ Quarterly/' thought the tone of
that organ towards Lady Morgan unjustifiable.
" What cruel work you make with Lady Morgan.
You should recollect that she is a woman : though,
to be sure, they are now and then very provoking :
still, as authoresses, they can do no great harm, and
I think it a pity so much good invective should have
been laid out upon her when there is such a fine
field of us. Jacobin gentlemen, for you to work upon/'
As soon as the personal excitement and dissipation
of mind which succeeded the publication of " France''
had subsided. Lady Morgan devoted all her energies
to a new national tale, with historical features, which
under the title of '' Florence M'Carthy," appeared a
short time afterwards. The best points in the native
Irish character, with the richest flowers of the Wsh
dialect, were sketched with a masterly hand by Lady
Morgan ; and there can be no doubt that Banim,
Griffin, and Carleton drew much of their inspiration
in depicting peasant life from the same source. Pre-
vious to attempting this exceedingly interesting and
erudite novel. Lady Morgan, as was her wont,
saturated her memory with a large amount of read-
ing, which bore upon the subject of it. From the
late Mr. Mason, author of the "History of St.
Patrick's Cathedral Church," then in progress of
composition. Lady Morgan received much acceptable
assistance in this respect.
" My dear Sir, — I have done all with Mr. CHall-
oran that can be done with, and so send him adrift.
I have still five volumes of yours— would you lend
me, for a few hours, Sir Eichard Colt Hoare's Travels ?
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LITBB.AB.Y AND PERSONAL, 197
— I long for a fine dry evening that I may walk
down and drink tea with * the lovely Mrs. Mason and
her old china/ and gossip with you and see your
great work. I always forget to ask you whether she
or you have had my little * France/ and if not, will
you let me lend it to yon ?
" Would you get some of your Irish scholars to
translate the following elegant phrases into Irish,
written in Roman characters^ as I don't read Ogham
with facility :
"'The Devil go with him/ 'My blessing on
him— or on you/
" ' I don't speak English/ ' Is that you V ' "Where
are you come from ?' ' Where have you been ?'
"What is the meaning of ' musha/ a word in
frequent use, and ' ague ?'
" Send me back your own bit of red tape to tie
round the rest of your books when I return them to
you. "S. M.
" P.S. — Morgan makes me open his letter to tell
Mrs. Mason he dies to kiss her hand.''
'Amongst the out-of-the-way national lore with
which we find Lady Morgan filling her brain at this
period, may be mentioned the " Annals of Tigernach/'
the "Psalter of Cashel," and the "Annals of the
Four Masters/' In most of the evidence furnished
by these valuable historical documents. Lady Morgan
seems to have been an unbeliever. " With respect
to the evidence of Irish chronicles— beginning with
Nennius who asserts that in the sixth year of
Abraham, Parthalanus ruled in Ireland," wrote Lady
Morgan in 1846, "I have long since registered my
scepticisms under the head of ' Irish Historians,' in
the 'Book Without a Name/ and the dreamy
influence and misdirected pride they tend to nourish,
I have endeavoured to shadow out in the character
Digitized byLjOOQlC
198 LADY MORGAN, HER CAREER,
of the insane schoolmaster, Terence Oge O'Leary, in
'Florence McCarthy,' and in that of the Baron
O'Brien, in the 'O'iJriens and OTlahertjs/ ''
" No one,'' writes Disraeli, " could lash a woman
like Rigbj." The same remark applies to Croker.
Knowing that Lady Morgan was sensitive on the
subject of her age, he took a mean revenge by hence-
forth uniformly speaking of her as '^ Miss Owenson
of the eighteenth century,'** The continental press
echoed this absurdity with a vengeance. In the
'' Quotidienne" of August 4th, 1821, we read that
''Lady Morgan, long temps connue dans le siecle
dernier sous le nom de Miss Owenson."
Often has the name of Lady Morgan been taken
in vain since. See, for instance, the "Universal
Lexicon of Leipsic,'' where, among other fictions, it
is asserted that " Lady Morgan, in a fit of disap-
pointed love, put an end to her life by the aid of her
own cambric pocket-handkerchief !"
Mr. Croker's feeling of irritation knew no bounds.
He endeavoured to annoy Lady Morgan by call-
ing her '^a female Methusalem;" he laboured to
discover the date of her birth, but could not.
" Croker," observes the ' Athenaeum,' " issued a coin-
mission of inquiry — himself inquirer, jury, and judge
against his brilliant countrywoman; and the pre-
tended discoveries of that acrimonious partizan
amused the reading and talking world of London for
a whole season.''
* Mr. JeaffersoD, in his " Novels and Novelists " (v. ii. p. 379)
gravely follows Croker : " Lady Morgan's literary career com-
menced in the last century, years before Byron published a line,
or Moore had fascinated voluptuaries with Little's Poems. Her
first volume was a collection of short pieces in verse, and was
produced ere she had completed her fourteenth year." This
little book appeared, as we have seen, in 1801, when Sydney
Owenson had entered on her twenty-fifth year.
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UTEEART AND PERSONAL. 199
Mr. Croker was proverbiallj, and often offensively
inquisitive. But in cross-examining Mrs. Clarke,
so far back as 1809, he caught a Tartar. Demanding
to know how often she had seen Mr. Dowler, the
Duke of York's mistress retorted ; " I believe the
honourable gentleman can tell pretty well ; for his
garret-window, very convenient for his prying disposi-
tion, overlooks my house.'' Mr. Croker was at this
time member for Downpatrick.
The virulence with which Mr. Croker pursued his
gifted countrywoman was remarkable. To cause her a
pang he never let an opportunity slip. For instance,
in reviewing the *^ American Sketches" of Mr. Fearon,
an English gentleman, who had incidentally given a
kind word to Lady Morgan, Mr. Croker writes : —
" He grossly libels his fair countrywomen in repre-
senting them fond of the writings of Lady Morgan.
From 'Ida of Athens,' the first of her monstrous
progeny, to that last souterkin of dullness and immo-
rality, ' Florence M'Carthy,' they vie\n( them all with
equal disgust."
In a review of Hazlitt's " Table Talk" (v. xxvi, p.
107) " the ravings of a maniac" are applied to the writ-
ings of Lady Morgan. In vol xvii. p. 223 the unmanly
epithet, *' unwomanly brutality" is affixed to her,
while (at p. 264, and seq,) her alleged *' blunders,
bombast, and falsehood" come under Mr. Croker's
lash. The violence of the censure saved her. Mr.
Croker would seem to have been unaware that
temperate criticism, and what an eminent writer has
termed, under -statement, are far and away more
eflfective than roaring denunciation.
It is generally an injudicious course for an author
to give battle to critics who are almost sure to have
the best of it ; but the lacerating poignancy of satire
combined with the intrepidity of vengeance, with
Digitized byLjOOQlC
200 LADY MORGAN, HEE CAEEEB,
which Lady Morgan retorted upon them gave her a
decided vantage ground. The admirably rich cha-
racter of Counsellor Con Crawley in "Florence
M^Carthy'^ was at once recognised as John Wilson
Croker; and Moore has recorded the fact that
Croker winced more under the caricature than any
of the many direct attacks which were made upon
him. The sixth chapter of " Florence McCarthy''
introduces us to the Crawley fafnily : — " If ever there
was a period in the history of a country when it
might be said, that ' Crime gave wealth, and wealth
gave impudence/ " observes Lady Morgan, " it was
that period in the history of Ireland, when rebellion,
excited for the purpose of effecting an unwelcome
Union, called forth all the worst passions of human-
ity, and armed petty power with the rod of extermin-
ation. The wealth, influence, and importance of the
Crawley family took their date from that memorable
and frightful epoch in the tragedy of Irish history,
which produced both moral and political ruin to a
long-devoted country, under every form of degrada-
tion, of which civilized society is susceptible. Previous
to that period, the three brothers had remained
buried in the obscurity which belonged to their
social and intellectual mediocrity. The eldest.
Darby Crawley, the country attorney, found his
highest dignity in being the factotum of the two
Barons Fitzadelm, the agent of their embarrassed
property, on which he lent them money saved by his
father in their service, until the little that remained
of the estate fell into his hands. Through the
interest of his employer, he had been put into the
commission of the peace: the year 1798 found him
a magistrate, and fortune and his merits had done
the rest. The second brother, whose gravity was
mistaken for ability by his father, (the illiterate land-
, ^ Digitized by LjOOQIC
LITERARY AND PERSONAL. 201
bailiff of the "Pitzadelms) was made a gentleman by
the patent of a college education, and the legal
degree of barrister-at-law. He had plied in the
courts with an empty green bag, and more empty
head, year after year with fruitless vigilance, till his
energy, in the melancholy prosecutions produced by
the rebellion, obtained him notice, patronage, place,
and a silk gown/^
But let us pass on to chapter the sixteenth, where
Lady Morgan figures as Lady Clancare, and some
of Counsellor Con^s flippant criticisms find expres-
sion.
*^ I think,^^ said Lord Frederick, taking his coffee,
and throwing himself on a divan, near Lady Georg-
iana, " ive all appear to be buried in the tomb of
the Capulets. I had no idea the divine Marchesa
meant to consign us all to such immortal dulness.
We are already almost reduced aux muets interpr^tes,
and shall gradually fall into the eloquent silence of
that round-eyed, tongue-tied. Lady Clancare, who
par parenthese looks as if she were extracting us all
for her common-place book, and will doubtless bring
us out in hot-press, sans dire gar I"
" I doubt she will ever bring out anything half
so good,^' said Conway Crawley : '^ as yet that is not
in her line ; she has had too few opportunities of
stnidying fashionable life to attempt anything in
that way. Hefr position here, at least, is so extreme-
ly obscure, that I believe the Castle of Dunore is
the first fine house in the country into which she
was ever admitted.^'
" And,^' said Miss Crawley, smiling, and in spite
of her former discomfiture, unable to contain her
acrimonious spirit, "and perhaps it may be her, ,.
last.'' ""'
*' Her principles,'' continued young Crawley, <
Digitized by VjOOQIfej'Ji
LADY MOEGAN, HEE CAREER,
disseminated in her ^National Tales/ as she calls
them, are sufiBcient to keep her out of good society
here/^
*' I thought I had heard you say, Mr. Crawley/'
observed Mr. Daly, ^^ that you did not know Lady
Clancare was an author.'^
'^I did not till this moming,^^ said Crawley, a
little confused. "When Lady Dunore noentioned
the titles of her works, and the initials representing
the author^s name, I recollected having looked over
those tomes of absurdity and vagueness, of daring
blasphemy, of afifectation, of bad taste, bombast, and
nonsense, blunders, ignorance, Jacobinism, falsehood,
licentiousness,* and impiety, which it now seems are
the effusions of the pseudo Lady Clancare.^^
Young Crawley, already flushed with wine, grew
still more red with rage as he spoke.
" Oh, my dear Mr. Crawley/' interrupted Lord
Frederick, with unusual vivacity, " say no more, or
you will make us in love with the author and her'
work together ; for, really, a book that could com-
bine all these terrific heterogeneous qualities, and yet
be read, must be very extraordinary: pour le
moins"
''Very extraordinary indeed,^' said Mr. Daly,
"considering that w^ith all these vices and faults,
they have been so read, and bought, as to realize an
independence for their author, and enable her to
carry on a suit which has deprived the elder Mr.
Crawley of his dear Clotnottyjoy. It would at least
* This was a most singular and happy anticipation of a
judgment of the " Quarterly Review." Exactly eleven years
afterwards, in a violent diatrihe on Maynooth (v. 37, p. 484) the
«* O'Briens and 0' Flaherty s " is referred to as " a strange farrago of
ignorance, licentiousness, and Jacobinism/' Mr. Cynis Redding,
in his recently published " Fifty Years Recollections,** says that
the '* Quarterly's " attacks on Lady Morgan, generally attributed
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^
LITBEAKY AND PBBSONAL. 203
appear, that in spite of professional criticism, the
public are always with hei"
*^ Oh, her flippant and arrogant ignorance has its
market/' returned Conway Crawley, '' and the sylphed
Miss McCarthy, the elegant Lady Clancare, is, in fact,
a mere bookseller's drudge. Her impudent falsehoods,
and lies by implication, the impious jargon of this
mad woman, this audacious worm '^
" Are you speaking of Lady Clancare, sir P' said
General Fitzwalter, who had been talking to Lord
Adelm, but who now turned shortly round upon
young Crawley, with a tone and look that stunned
the hardy railed , " are you applying such language
to a woman — to any woman V
Counsellor Crawley, who was physically timid,
shrinks back abashed, and takes up a book ; while
the marchioness enters leaning upon Lady Clancare's
arm. "We have had a delicious walk of some
miles/' said Lady Dunore, sinking into a chair and
calling for coffee i while Lady Clancare modestly took
her seat rather behind than beside, so as just to raise
her face over the back of Lady Dunore's chair, in a
position equally shy and observing. For a moment
she attracted every eye, and all sought to trace in her
countenance some indication of the audacious, lying,
profligate, ignorant, and pretending Jacobin."
Sir Jonah Barrington, a man whose knowledge of
Ireland and the Irish character, was singularly inti-
mate and profound, writes of ^' Florence McCarthy/'
"The Crawleys are superlative, and suffice to bring
to Croker, were reaUy written by Giffard, in whom vulgarity was
inherent. Giffard, however, ceased to edit the " Quarteriy " in
1823, and died in 1826. The above passage first appeared in
1828, and it is impossible to doubt that it owes its existence to the
same pen that had so often previously assailed Lady Morgan with
such vulgarity and mendacity. — Ed.
Digitized byV^OOQlC
204 LADY MOEGAN, HER CAREER,
before my vision, in their full colouring, and almost
without a variation, persons and incidents whom and
which I have many a time encountered. Nothing is
exaggerated as to them ; and Crawley himself is the
perfect and plain model of the combined agent, attor-
ney and magistrate — a sort of mongrel functionary,
whose existence 1 have repeatedly repudiated, and
whom I pronounce to be, at this moment, the greatest
nuisance and mischief experienced by my unfortunate
country/'
It was certainly a far-fetched charge to accuse Lady
Morgan of Atheism; and yet with this repulsive
crime, the Tory Reviewers repeatedly upbraided her.
How they could venture to advance an accusation so
startling, in the face of such ample irrefragable evi-
dence to the contrary, will not fail to surprise modern
notions of honour, gallantry and justice. Few writers
made finer, or more impressive appeals and allusions
to the Deity than Lady Morgan. '^Gracious hea-
ven I" she exclaims : " Is it for man, weak man,
trembling in the consciousness of his own imbecility,
to bear down upon his weaker brother ? And should
not every sluice of pity and toleration, be opened in
his bosom for the fallibility of that creature whose
nature he wears, in whose frailties he participates, and
to whose errors he is liable ? Atoms as we are in the
boundless space of creation ! surrounded by mystery,
involved in uncertainty, knowing not from whence
we came, or whither we shall go, beings of an in-
stant ; with all our powers, all our energies hastening
to decay ! Is it for us to assume the right of empire,
and refuse that mercy to others, which we all look for
in common to Him, who is Himself perfection?"
For year after year this amiable and accomplished
woman continued to be branded as an atheist in reli-
gion, and a latitudinarian in morals. " No matter
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LTTBEABY AND PEESONiX. 205
with what ability slanderous attacks may be refuted/'
says Jerdan, ^^ some of the dirt is sure to stick to
you." Lady Morgan's case was no exception to the
apothegm. Even since she has tranquilly passed into
eternity, there has been no disinclination in some
quarters to fasten the guilt of infidelity on her life
and soul. But no charge can possibly be more base
or baseless. We have taken some trouble to be able
to disprove it ; and it is with no small pleasure that
we find ourselves in a position to state, on the au-
thority of a lady who possessed the friendship and con-
fidence of Lady Morgan, that the great authoress
never allowed a day to pass over without reading a
chapter from the Sacred Scriptures. Indeed, Lady
Morgan's acquaintance with the Bible can be doubted
by none who read " Woman and her Master," the
Controversy with Cardinal Wiseman, and the preface
to "The O'Briens and the OTlahertys," not to speak
of many other productions of hei pen. " Woman and
her Master " displays almost as thorough an intimacy
with the Sacred Volume as the writings of Locke or
Whately. But to show how strongly the virulently
fostered impression continues to exist even in quar-
ters usually the best informed on all matters apper-
taining to literature, we shall cull a paragraph from
a letter addressed to the writer of these pages by D.
Owen Maddyn, a few days previous to his lamented
death.
''For private reasons I avoided knowing Lady
Morgan ; but critically I am acquainted with all her
Joints. She had an immense amount of brass and
riUiancy; and was a very striking person in her
way, but I always recoiled from her as a sort of fe-
male Voltaire, reared in a province, and fed on po-
tato diet. She did not appreciate the hereditary
Puritanism of the Irish Protestants, among whom
Digitized byLjOOQlC
206 LADY MORGAN^ HEB CAEEER^
she was born and bred, and she had no sympathy
with the far descended traditional religion of the
Catholics of Ireland. She scoffed and scorned, and
ransacked the French salons in a wearisome way :
but she had spirit, play of fancy, and as a novelist
she pointed the way to Lever, whose precursor she
was. The rattling vivacity of the Irish character ; its
ebullient spirit, and its wrathful eloquence of senti-
ment and language, she well pourtrayed; one can
smell the potheen and turf sraoke even in her pictures
of a boudoir. Her attack on Croker was very clever,
and had much effect in its day. It is written on the
model of the Irish school of invective furnished by
Flood and Grattan.''
The great success of ' France' induced Mr. Colburn
to offer Lady Morgan a very considerable sum for a
similar work on Italy. But let us state the proposal,
and the circumstances which led to it, in her own
words. The '*Odd Volume^' of her recently pub-
lished Diary opens with : " This morning, as I was on
my knees, all dust and dowdyism, comes the English
post — old Colburn — no ! not old at all, but young
enthusiastic Colburn in love with 'Florence Ma-
carthy,' and a little Spris with the author ! ' Italy,
by Lady Morgan!' he is 'not touched, but rapt,'
and makes a dashing offer of two thousand pounds —
to be printed in quarto like 'France'— but we are to
start off 'immediately,' and I have 'immediately' an-
swered him in the words of Silemo in ' Midas'—
"*Done! strike hands —
. 1 take your offer,
Further on I may fare worse/ "
From August, 1818, to May, 1819, we find Lady
Morgan sojourning in London, Paris, and La Grange,
in preparation for her journey to Italy. At the great
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LITERAUY AND PERSONAL. 207
metropolis, Lady Morgan made the acquaintance of
Lady Caroline Lamb, so famous for her mad adora-
tion of Bjron, her activity in personally canvassing
the electors of Westminster on behalf of her brother-
in-law, and for three light fashionable novels of which
she was the author. '' Glenarvon/' Lady Caroline's
best novel, pourtrayed the character and idiosyncrasies
of Lord Byron, for whom she had contracted an un-
fortunate attachment. The noble poet, after some
time^ trilled with her feelings. She went into retire-
ment, and continued to reside for several years at
Brocket Hall, the seat of her husband, the Hon.
"William Lamb, afterwards Lord Melbounie. The
peaceful seclusion w^hich she had sought met with a
•painful and fatal interruption. When one day riding
with Mr. Lamb near Brocket Hall, a hearse pa«»sed,
conveying the remains of Byron to Newstead Abbey !
Lady Caroline was carried home insensible, and an
illness ensued, which eventually consigned her to the
grave. The letters of this strange woman to Lady
Morgan are amongst the best things in that " Odd
Volume'^ of autobiography which the latter published
in January, 1859. An idea of their originality may
be formed from the following passage in a farewell
letter to Lady Morgan : " You will probably see
among the dead in some newspaper, 'Died on her
voyage to Bonneberga Hague, Lady Caroline Lamb,
of the disease called death, her time being come, and
she being a predestinarian.' " The striking portrait of
Byron executed for Lady Caroline by Sanderson, was
bequeathed by its owner to the subject of these pages.
Another very remarkable female character with
whom, as we gather from Lady Morgan's Diary,
she associated closely during her sejour in London
when en route for Italj, was the eccentric and
accomplished lady of whom, as Miss Monckton,
Digitized by Google
208 LADY MORGAN, HBE CAREER,
Johnson and Miss Barney have left us some amus-
ing details, but who in 1818 rejoiced in the high
sounding title of Lady Cork and Orrery, and
Viscountess Dungarvan and Kinalmeakey. As illus-
trative of the eccentricities of this personage, we
cull a droll entry from Lady Morgan's Diary.
" Lady Cork's fading sight induced her to borrow
eyes from every body who dropped in ; I was fre-
quently on service. One morning she said in her
peculiar way, when I asked how she was, 'Well,
child, of couifae I am well, but I want you to write
me two notes. 1 am going to get rid of my page.^
—'What! get rid of your pet P— 'Don't talk,
child, but do as I ask you.' So I took up my pen,
and wrote under her dictation, ' To the Duchess of
Leeds. My dear Duchess, this will be presented to
you. by my little page, whom yoa admired so the
other night. He is about to leave me ; only fancy, he
finds my house not religious enough for him ! and that
he can't get to church twice on Sundays. 1 certainly
am not so good a Christian as your Grace, but as to
the Sundays it is not true. But I think your situa-
tion would just suit him, if you are inclined to take
him. E^er yours, M. Cork and O.' — 'Now,' said
she, ' fold that up, and put on the address, for fear
of mistakes. Now my dear, begin another to your
friend Lady Caroline Lamb, who, 'tis said, broke
her page's head with a teapot the other day.' — ' A
Tory calumny,' said I; 'Lady Caroline was at
Brocket the very day the adventure was said to have
happened at Whitehall.' — 'I dont care whether it's
true or not,' said Lady Cork ; ' all pages are better
for having their heads sometimes broken ; now write
please : ' Dear Lady Caroline, will you come to me
to-morrow evening, to my Blue party ? I send this
by that pretty little page whom you admired so, but
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UTEEAEr AND PERSONAL, 209
who, though full of talent and grace, is a little imp,
whom perhaps, you may reform but I cannot. {Par
parenthese the page just described as a little saint
was the ' little imp^ I was now desired to proner,) —
He is very like that boy you used to take into your
opera box with you, and was so famous for dressing
salad. I would not advise you to take him, if I
did not think he would suit you. Ask any one you
like to mj blue soiree particularly Mr. Moore. Yours
in all affection M. C. and O. ' Now my dear put
that dp, and good morning to you.' "
The signature of M. Cork and Orrery gave rise
to an amusing equivoque. Having written an order
to an upholsterer for some valuable article in his
warehouse, she received for reply, "D. B. not
having any dealings with M. Cork and Orrery begs
to have a more explicit order, finding that the house
is not known in the trade.''
Lady Morgan pays a visit to the opera, which is
lit up gaily, and for the first time, with gas. The
fair portion of the auditory inveigh against it
because it does not ^'become" the completion so
well as the spermaceti. At the opera. Lady Morgan
sees the newly married Duchess of Clarence with
'^ her yellow skin, lemon-coloured hair, pink eyes and
sharp features." She also goes to Almack's and
criticises there also. But we prefer to follow her
to Paris, where she arrived early in 1819 while the
angry intrigue to displace the Duke de Cazes from
his oflBce of first favourite and first minister was at
its zenith. Denon and La Fayette were in waiting
to receive the distinguished visitor. The great
General carries her off almost by force to his grand
ch§,teau at La Grange, the picture of which as well
as of La Fayette's very interesting family has all
Lady Morgan's felicity and vividness of description.
p
Digitized byLjOOQlC
210 LADY XOEGAN^ HEB CAUSES,
La Fayette is very commQnicative and tdls MSscfi
many carious anecdotes, for instance, how he once
went to a bal masque at the opera with Mark
Antoinette upon his ann, the king knowing nothicg
of it, with other morceaux illustrative of the esprit
d'aveniure in vogue in those days at the Court of
Versailles, and in the head of the haughty daughter
of Austria.
After a most delightful sojourn at La Grange,
passed in the society of the hero of two worlds, and of
three revolutions. Lady Morgan goes back to Paris
aud meets Humboldt, aud Talma, and Cuvier, and
DuchSnois, who become constant guests at Miladi's
Sialon, and perform with a grace dibonnaire for her
what they would hardly have done to oblige crowned
heads. With Denon she renews an old and honor-
able intimacy. Auguste Thierry she notices aud
caresses as " a promising young litterateur" Car-
bonnel fascinates Sir Charles and Lady Morgan,
but especially the latter, by his charming voice and
passion for music ; Auguste de Stael, Corinne's son,
also figures at Miladies receptions, and speaks English
with the fluency of a native ; we are also introduced
to the Princess Jablonowski, " the only woman who
was ever the intimate friend of Napoleon without
bemg his mistress,'^ Madame de Villetti, Voltaire's
Belle et Bonne, who made Miladi a freemason.
Baron Gerard, Jouy, Sismondi, Lacroix, De Segur,
Eochette, the vain and gifted d'Arlincpurt, Constant,
who praised her book on France so cordially. Dr.
Portail,— all the prettiest women in short, and the
brightest masculine minds of Paris flocked to the
salon of our great authoress, and made it quite an
intellectual Elysium.
Eossi, who was assassinated in 1848 at the door
of the Chamber of Deputies in Eome, Lady Morgan
met on two occasions at this period. He was ilt
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LITBRAEY AND PERSONAL. SJll
1819, as DenoTi assures us, a universal favourite in
society. Lady Morgan says in her. Diary, "met
Monsieur Rossi whom I did not like— the reason
why I cannot tell.^^ Again: "Eossi dropped in
but I know not how it is his presence casts a cliill/*
Lady Morgan in her work on Italy bitterly bemoans
that she had failed to make the acquaintance of
Madame de Stael. "I thus was prevented/^ she
adds, "from seeing one of the most distinguished
women of the age; from whose works I had received
infinite pleasure, and (as a woman, I may add)
infinite pride.^'
Lady Morgan did not always act the hostess.
Her society was generally and eagerly sought after.
Moore, in his Diary of October 17 th, 1819, records :
^* went with Camac to see Sir Charles and Lady Mdr-
gan, her success every where astonishing. Camac was
last night at the Countess Albany's (the Pretender's
wife and Alfieri's) and saw Lady Morgan there in
the seat of honour, quite the queen of the room.
Capponi too, one of the great men of Florence, sent
an order from Genoa to have apartments at the hou^e
of his homme d'affaires ready for her on her arrival
there.'' Moore who suffered from illness at this period
congratulated himself, in the same day's journal, that
Sir C. Morgan should have been then in Paris— a
circumstance which shews that Moore entertained a
high opinion of Morgan's skill as a physician. On
October 19th, 1819, Moore was sufficiently recovered
to dine " with the Morgans" and to hold an animated
philosophical argument with Miladi.
Byron, who had attacked Lady Morgan in one
of his notes to Childe Harold, having heard from
Moore that she was about to write a record of travels
and observations made in Italy, laughed disdainfully
at the idea, "I suspect I know a thing or two of
P 2
Digitized by LjOOQiC
212 LADY MORGAN^ HER CAREER^
Italy /^ he adds, " more than Lady Morgan has picked
up in her posting. What do Englishmen know of
Italians beyond their museums and saloons and some
hack * * en passant f" A perusal of the book warned
Byron to be henceforth slow in judging without
ample evidence. Writing to Murray on August
23rd, 1821, he observes, in answer to some charges
of plagiarism : *^ Much is coincidence : for instance
Lady Morgan (in a really excellent book, I assure you,
on Italy) calls Venice an Ocean Rome. I have the
same expression in Foscari, and yet you know that
the play was written months ago, and sent to
England ; the ' Italy^ 1 received only on the 16th
inst/' Writing to Moore, on the following day.
Lord Byron goes on to say— "By the way, when
you write to Lady Morgan, will you thank her for
her handsome speeches in her book about my books ?
1 do not know her address. Her work is fearless
and excellent on the subject of Italy— pray tell her
so— and I know the country. I wish she had fallen
in with me. 1 could have told her a thing or two
that would have confirmed her positions.'^
The principal public buildings in Italy were de-
scribed by Lady Morgan with all that felicity of ex-
pression which, in matters that touch her heart and
fancy, had ever been peculiarly her own. The
Duomo of Milan, for example, which, although be-
gun in the fourteenth century, was not finished until
the nineteenth, by Buonaparte, is sketched with a
pencil of light. The architecture, which is mixed
Gothic, she leaves to the cavils of virtiujsi, and de-
scribes it as she saw it, in the radiance of an Italian
sun at mid-day. Its masses of white and polished
marble, she tells us, are wrought into elegant filagree,
hardly less elaborate than that which Hindoo fingers
trace on Indian ivory f while its slim and delicate
y Google
LITEEABY AND PBE80NAL. 213
pinnacles, tipped with sculptured saints, and looking
(all gigantic as it is) like some fairy fabric of virgin
silver, dazzles the €ye, and fascinates the imagination.
Its interior solemnity is represented as finely opposing
its outward lustre, and the efi'ect of the contrast as
heightened by the splendid procession of the chapter
in rich vestments, and the more affecting, though less
imposing one, of the viaticum borne to some dying
sinner, whilst the Imperial guard turned out and
presented arms as it went forth, and those who were
passing by, stopped and knelt with uncovered heads.
The first Napoleon took a deep interest in the Duomo
of Milan, and used to gaze with insatiable delight upon
the splendid pinnacles which he had helped to raise.
At £ome. Lady Morgan had the honour of
presentation to Pope Pius VII. From Cardinal
Gonsalvi, his accomplished Secretary of State, she
received much courtesy. Lady Morgan used to say,
that among other kindnesses, he rescued her hus-
band's books from a seizure made by the Holy
Office.
A book of travel more amusing than '* Italy*' had
not appeared for many a day. After galloping
through the critical passages of the Alps, Lady
Morgan enters upon Piedmont. She then sketches
with a bright pencil her route through Lombardy,
Genoa, Placenza, Parma, Modena, and Bologna,
which concludes the first volume. The second com-
prehends her more interesting tour through Tuscany,
Eome, Naples, and Venice ; her chief guide would
seem to have been Eustace's "Classical Tour."
When we remember that the latter work, written by
a zealous Catholic priest, gave offence in Italy, it can
hardly surprise that Lady Morgan's book should have
been in these days proscribed by the King of Sar-
dinia, the Emperor of Austria, and the Pope ; and, as
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214 LADY MORGAN, HEE CAKEER,
the aotboress assures us in her Preface to " Salvator
Eosa/' " it became dangerous to receive letters, or to
answer them/'
It was Ladv Morgan's fate through life to be
obliged to contend, single-handed and almost nn-
ceasingly, against an organised assault of violent
bludgeon criticism, which had its origin in private
and political motives, and which, in the case of any
other woman,' would have utterly crushed her. This
band of desperado critics found an ally in a minor
tribe of scribes who with pen-stilettos dipped in
poison, persecuted her virulently. No doubt the
ablest and most influential of the former band was
the late Right Hon. John Wilson Croker, whose
voluminous contributions to the " Quarterly Review'*
constituted him a red Indian in critical literature.
His memory, to adopt the language of Mr. Maddyn,
" is buried beneath a pyramid of scalps," and there
let it lie.
^ataly" was published on the 20th June, 1821,
and by the twenty-third of that month, some of the
journals hostile to liberal principles, had tried,
judged, and condemned it) though one of the
leading faults attributed to it was that it consisted of
two huge quarto volumes. By the 1st of July it was
reviewed by almost every ministerial print, news-
paper, and magazine. The attack of the " Quarterly"
upon this work was exceedingly, and most charac-
teristically violent. Among other sweeping assertions,
quite unsupported by proof, the reader is informed
that '* ' Italy* is a series of oftences against good
morals, good politics, good sense, and good taste ;''
that " this woman is utterly incorrigible," and further,
that, " her indelicacy, ignorance, vanity, and malig-
nity," " exceed all credence," that, in short, " every
page teems with errors of all kinds, from the most
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LITEBAEY AND PERSONAL. 215
disgusting down to the most ludicrous/^ and by way
of excuse for not adducing proof, the Reviewer has
the cool effrontery to assert, " extracts could afford
no idea of the general and homogeneous stupidity
which pervades the work/' A more sparkling or
original raconteuse than Lady Morgan never lived ;
yet the critic would fain persuade his readers of the
reverse, and with consummate coolness he speaks of
'^ the narcotic influence of her prating, prosing, and
plagiarism/' In the same breath that he censures
some alleged coarseness of language on the part of
Lady Morgan, he falls into the same error himself,
and adds : " notwithstanding the obstetric skill of
Sir Charles Morgan, (who we believe is a man-
midwife) this book dropt all but still-born from the
press/' More Billingsgate was probably never
stuffed into so small a compass. This unmanly
attack occupies little more than four pages— a cir-
cumstance which exhibited the utter dearth of
proof.
Amotig the many contemporary poetic squibs
which exploded at Lady Morgan's expense, we are
tempted to revive one so full of sparkling wit and
cruel point, that a book such as ourb, which professes
to give a view of Lady Morgan's foes, as well as her
friends, would, doubtless, be considered incomplete
without it. It appeared anonymously; but the
writer, now a very distinguished man, has avowed
the authorship to us. It was written, he says, in
college, during the first exuberance of his youthful
genius. The reader will at once perceive that the
po^m is a parody on " Lochiel's Warning/'
Sir Charles Morgan is made to exclaim : —
Glorvina 1 Glorvina, beware of the day
When the ** Quarterly " uieets thee in battle array !
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216 LABT MOEOAN, HEE CAEEEB^
For thy volumes, all damned, msh unread on my sight,
Glorvina I Glorvina, ah \ think ere you write I
See I see ! where the witty and wise about town
Are stnggling, who foremost, shall trample thee down !
Proud Giffard before hath insulted the slain !
And Croker, in spleen, may pursue thee again !
Weep Lady I thy prospects are faded — undone —
Oh, weep 1 but thy tears only add to this fun !
For their black ink is poison— a dagger their pen,
And the book they once stab, may not waken again.
To all this croaking about Croker, Glorvina
replies.—
Go preach to thy patients, thou death-telling seer,
Or if Giffard and Croker so dreadful appear.
Go, crouch from the war, like a recreant knight.
Or, draw my silk shawl o'er thy organs of sight !
The knight continues to express his gloomy fore-
. bodings, warns Glorvina that tlie dirge of her glory is
sung, and conjures her to return all lonely to her
dwelling.
Glor, False wizard, avaunt t I have marshalled my clan.
Their pens are a thousand — there genius is one I
They mock thy prescriptions I they laugh at thy breath,
Go ! preach to thy patients of danger and death !
Then welcome be Croker — ^his smile or his frown.
And welcome be Crawley — we'll trample them down !
Their colour shall vary from yellow to blue.
Like the colour of Constable's famous Eeview t
"When my heroes impassioned for Tictory strain,
Sir Richard the learned 1 and Ensor the vain !
All active, all armed, in their author's array !
Sir C. Glorvina, Glorvina beware of the day I
'Twas my studies in youth gave me mystical lore,
And the womb of the Future, in fear I explore !
Time trembles in pain, as his pulses I feel.
But fate must be known tho' I may not reveal I
I tell thee that London with laughter will ring^
When the blood-hounds of Murbay at Florence shall spring !
Ho ! CoLBURN I arouse thee, arouse thee with speed,
And arm thy gazette, 'tis a moment of need,
Ho ! Maga t green Maga ! awaken each sprite I
Baise — praise your oak-crutches to cover her flight !
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LITBEARY AND PBESONAL. 217
Oh ! would that thy book went to sleep of itself,
Like pamphlets unbound on a dust covered shelf;
But mourn ! for a darker departure is near —
The wise shall condemn, and the witty shall sneer 1
And she, that fair Lady whose home is the Lake,
With sworded Sir Arthur, thy doom shall partake,
In vain shall she combat for Morgan Le Fay.
Glor. Down, soothless insulter, 1 scorn what you say 1
\Miat ages of rapture roll fair to my sight I
What glories to come swim before me in light ! —
Behold through the curtains of fate as I look,
O'DoNNEL ! and flirting with young Lalla Rookh,
With Bertram is waltzing Glorvina the fair !
And Ida is wrestling with Lady Clancarr !
Near Apostate Hembta see Imogen'a face !
Oh never a ball such a galliard did grace !
In the beauty of fame they return to my sight.
Be they saved — ^be they damned — I will write — I will write-t
If " Italy^' was ridiculed by superficial critics at
home, it received cordial commendation abroad from .
men, of all others, most competent to judge it. The
following letter from the Baron Denon proves this.
" Chere et aimable Amie,
"Monsieur Tennant, qui part pour FIrlande, veut
bien se charger de cette lettre, qui au moins vous
sera sftrement remise, et par laquelle vous saurez que
nous vous aimons, que nous vous desirous, que nous
nous occupons de vous, et en parlous tons les jours.
" QuVst ce que vous faites, chere amie ? Nous
n'en savons rien de tout, et nous nous en inquietons
dans votre interet comme dans la notre. Votre
dernier ouvrage est toujours le plus beau: votre
'Italic' a une force masculine, qui a conserve
toute la grace de son origine. Je voudrais bien dans
ce moment avoir votre riche facilite. Toutes les
gravures de mon ouvrage sont faites. J'ecris mais
cela ne m'amuse pas autant ; il est si difficile d'^crire
sur Fart, quand il ne faut se livrer qu'k ^imagination
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213 LApY MOEOAN^ H££ CASBtlB^
des autres^ et se garder de celle qu^on aimeroit k
avoir. Voila ou je sais en ce moment : c^est vous
cependant qui ^tes cause de tout cela ! Je voudrais
bien en etre, a vous en avoir obligation, et n^avoir
plus qu^k vous expedier les colossales volumes.
" Je d&ire bien vivement de quelque maniere que
ce puisse etre, vous les remettre en main propre et
vous remercier de les avoir fait. Si cela n'est pas
encore fini, c^est encore votre faute : vous avez en-
voye TEurope dans mon cabinet, et il faut bien que
je sois Ik, h son secours pour vous justifier, de ce que
vous avez dit de lui.
'^ Embrassez notre cher, cher Chevalier, mais pour
moi tout seul ; je ne pardonne la distraction qu'a lui.
J^ai votre portrait fort bien grave, quej^ai mis en
bonne compagnie ; si vous en avez un du Chevalier,
vous me ferez un grand plaisir de me Tenvoyer.
*^ Adieu, chere et aimable amie ; quand vous trou-
verez une occasion, ecrivez moi deux mots sans le
contact de la poste ; car ce moyen est de toute nullite
entre nous.
" Permettez moi de vous embrasser de tout« la ten-
dresse de l^amitie la plus vraie, et la mieux sentie.
" Denon.
" Lady Morgan,
" Kildare Street, Dublin."
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UTESABY AI«D FEESONAL. 219
CHAPTER VII.
A long chapter in which Lady Morgan presents her Critics with
a Rowland for an Oliver. — Thomas Camphell. — The Critical
Chronomastix. — William Jerdan. — The " Quarterly." — Gibbets
^a/«/r^.—Colbxim*8 letter.— "The British Critic."— Cyrus Red-
ding. — Shoals of Slanderers and Snakes in the Grass. — Attempt
to deprive Sir C. Morgan of his Knighthood. — Apathy of
Jeffrey. — " Life of Salvator Rosa " published. — " Absenteeism."
—Writings and Character of Sir C. Morgan. — Receptions in
Kildare Street. — Maturin. — Sir J. B 's rebuff". — Curry's re-
tort. — A Masquerade. — Lady Morgan in the snow. — Dublin
Castle.—** The O'Briens and the O'Flahertys."- Lady Morgan
the immediate cause of the birth of the ** Athenseum." — Prince
Pucklar Moskau. — Lady Morgan's lines on the Ladies Paget.—
Her second book on France. — Correspondence. — Lady Morgan
pensioned. — ** Book of the Boudoir." — **The Princess." — Mrs.
S. C. Hall. — Lady Morgan changes her residence to London.
There appeared almost simultaneously with "Italy*'
another spirited and caustic, but, in the estimation of
her friends, a somewhat injudicious retaliation by
Lady Morgan upon her reviewers, under which they
very keenly winced. To our thinking, however, it
was the happiest and boldest effort of Lady Morgan's
pen, and her friends have every reason to be proud
of it. With a firm nerve, and a dauntless heart, she
stood the bniint and returned the shaft which had
been hurled at her fame and name.
This spirited document was gratuitously prefixed
by Colburu to the ''New Monthly Magazine'' for
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220 LADT MORGAN^ HER CAB£ERy
October, 1821. Colburn printed it uniform with
the Magazine, but paged it separately. In the
'^ Tiroes^' of the day, .we find the following curious
letter from Thomas Campbell : — *' It is known to
many persons that I am editor of 'The New Monthly
Magazine ; or, Literary Journal \ it is known to all
with whom I have conversed on the subject, that I
wish this work to be a receptacle for calm discussion
and liberal opinions, but not an arena of literary hos-
tility. 1 make it no vehicle of personal attack, and
therefore I claim a right to keep it free from the din
of even defensive personality. For any exceptions to
this rule that may seem to occur, I hold myself bound
to give an explanation to the public, provided the
articles containing such exceptions have been sub-
mitted to me as Editor; but if any paper should find
its way into the 'Magazine,^ without having been
shewn to me, I will not be responsible for its con-
tents. Now Lady Morgan^s letter in *The New
Monthly Magazine,^ published to-day, was never seen
by me till published, although, to ninety-nine readers
out of one hundred, it will seem to be the leading
article of the number. I am not Lady Morgan's
accuser, but I decline being involved in the squabble
between her and her enemies. She may be very
right, and they may be very wrong; but whether she
is in the right or in the wrong, her letter to her Ee-
viewers was never submitted to me as Editor of the
work which I am known to conduct, and the pro-
prietors of that work are alone the publishers of her
letter.''
" It is now," said Lady Morgan, '' twelve or four-
teen years since the supposed literary organ of
government gave the word to all subaltern scribes to
bear down upon and attack whatever I should print.
They have attacked me in every point where the
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UTEBABT AND PSBSONAL. 2£1
woman was most susceptible^ the author most sensi-
tive. They have attacked my public profession, and
private character, my person, my principles, my
country, my friends, my kindred, even my dress.
They have done everything to injure — but praise me ;
for, after all, ' It is their slaver kills, and not their
bite.' Hitherto, I have been, for the interests per-'
haps of truth and of literature, .something too loth
' to stir at these indignities/ Even now, if I come
forth among my nameless assailants, ^I swear by
yea and nay,' or any other pretty oath, 'tis more in
fun than fear — lesjs in spite than sport. The shafts
they have long let fly at me, and all that is dearest to
me, have been shot from masked batteries, and
^dipped in double venom/ The arrow with which
I returned their assault, will fall poisonless, though
not perhaps pointless. Mine, I trust, will be true
lady s archery, fair, though irregular ; my aim taken
in the garish eye of day — my name announced— my
cognizance blazoned— my device known— and my
heart worn, as it always has been, ^ On my sleeve,
for (even) daws to peck at.' Thus simply armed
and frankly avowed, unmasked, unshielded but by
truth, alone in the midst of my ambushed foes, I take
my ground ; ' And as I truly fight, so help me
Heaven/ The accidental circumstance of being born
and educated in a laud stamped with the impress of
six centuries of degradation— the natural tendency of
a female temperament to a prompt, uiicalculating
sympathy — and the influence of that stirring quality
called indignation (as often a constitutional as a
moral affection)— gave a direction to my feelings,
and a colour to my mind and writings, which from
my *^ youth upwards' have remained unchanged and
indelible.
*' Ireland, the country of my birth and my com-
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222 LADT MOEOAN^ HER CAREEB^
miseration, became, almost in childhood, my in-
spiration and my theme ; and with little reading, less
judgment, but not one interested view, (for when
was youth sordid?) I embraced the cause of the
Irish Catholics, of whom, personally, I knew not
one/^
From Blackwood^s Edinburgh Magazine, " Italy'*
received little mercy. Maga, of that day, was con-
ducted on principles very different from those which
now guide it. The hostile language to which it often
gave expression, occasionally rose to a pitch of in-
temperance which baffle all description. It more
than once led to bloodshed \ and the sad fate of John
Scott is too well known. Lady Morgan grappled
with her potent foe, and retaliated in this wise :
''The Edinburgh Magazine! Land of the learned
and the liberal, land of the Humes, the Robertsons,
the Playfairs, and the Leslies, can you suffer the
time-honoured name of your lettered capital to be
prefixed to such a thing as this? But nations, like
Heaven, must sometimes submit to hear themselves
profaned, and to have their venerated names taken
in vain for the worst of purposes, and in the worst
of causes, and now ' worse doom brave gallants.*
Trot him out here on his pasteboard hobby, this lord
of literary misrule — this critical chronomastix of the
Edinburgh Magazine.** This jaw-breaker, we may
observe, was bestowed by Gitfard on the herd of
libellists who infested the times of Ben Jonson.
Lady Morgan proceeded in the strain we have indi-
cated, and left her foes in no very enyiable plight.
Mr. Jerdan*s influential literary organ she spoke of
as " floundering, arid flouncing in the shallows of its
own eternal dullness.** This stroke of satire was
provoked by Jerdan having declared that on finishing
the first volume of " Italy,** the " reader will have
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LITEEAUY AND PERSONAL.' 223
learned little about the Italian cities ; and nothing at
all about the manners and customs of the inhabi-
tants/^ and further, that "the reader will have
found amusement and instruction in scarcely one of
Lady Morgan^s pages/^ The critic in the same
breath, pronounced Byron to be no original poet,
and that he ought not to be read ! All her literary
foes were gibbetted. " I would shew you oS" she
wrote, "as showmen exhibit apes, not for their
beauty or utility, but for the malignant ingenuity of
their foul and mischievous tricks/^
But it was in the Edinburgh Magazine that Lady
Morgan chiefly fleshed her sword. She was justly
indignant at being called an " ambulating scribbler of
bad novels, inditing two goodly quartos, every page
of which, almost, is sprinkled over with more or less
of nonsense, ignorance, indecency, irreligion. Jaco-
binism, and premeditated perversion of facts.
"We have toiled,^^ it went on to say, "through
blasphemy and Jacobinism, calumny and falsehood /'
the authoress was " a petticoated ultra Radical au-
thor,'' and her book " a monstrous literary abortion/^
" But this is nothing," wrote Lady Morgan, " he
has invented sentiments for me, expressive of the
most shameless libertinism which ever disgraced any
work, male or female." And Lady Morgan stooped
to prove in detail the utter falsity of the charges so
unscrupulously heaped upon her. "I appeal," she
wrotcj " from this false witness, to the readers of
' Italy ,^ " and again " alas ! am I to incur the odium
of indecency?— the worst a woman can sustain, the
last she would choose to bear 1" Having convicted
her critics of many shameful distortions, she added,
" this is the way I have always been reviewed, the
object being coute qui coute to stop the sale of my
works, and prevent my writing at all."
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224} LADY MOEGAN, HER CABJfiEU,
The weapon, however, which had been raised to
cut oflF the sale of her books, not only fell impo-
tently, but recoiled upon the arm of the wielder. In
reply to the attack of the "Quarterly/^ which endea-
voured to prove that ^' Half had no manner of sale,
Mr. Colbum published a letter in the '^ Times"
dated November 24jth 1821. Having convicted the
Beviewer of various critical expedients more ingenious
than ingenuous, Mr. Colbum spiritedly concluded
thus : " When he has the effrontery to assert, that
the Travels were announced before the journey was
commenced ; — that the price of the work paid the
expences of the tour ; — that he has not heard of any
voluntary reader, who has been able to get through
the first volume; — that the work dropt still-born
from the press ; — that the public do not care about
the book; and that the public will not buy it.
"Who believes him? and what opinion must the
thousands of buyers and readers of the work form of
this Editor and his Eeview ? But to shew, in the most
satisfactory manner, theinefEcacy of such attempts to
crush a most interesting writer, I am ready to prove,
that five hundred copies of this worK were sold on
the first day of publication; that more copies have
been disposed of during the last month, and since
the appearance of the 'Quarterly Review,' than in
any preceding one since the day of publication;
that a new edition is in preparation ; that two edi-
tions, amounting to 4000 copies, have been printed at
Paris, and another in Belgium : and, as a further
testimony to the value of Lady Morgan's writings, I
seize the present opportunity of publicly declaring
my entire satisfaction at the result of the undertak-
ing; and that 1 shall be most happy to receive from
the author another work of equal interest, on the
same terms.''
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LITEUARY AND PBBSONAL. 225
The price paid by Mr. Colburn for '^ Italy'' was
considerable. We catch a glimpse of its extent in
the following anti-critic diatribe, " It is to the
support of that public I owe it, that in spite of the
shoals and shallows, which have impeded my literary
course, I have still been eaabled to keep my little
bark afloat. Pirates,, and privateers, weekly, monthly,
and quarterly, with their letters of marque from high
protecting powers, have opened their broadsides, and
played off their small arms in vain. Public opinion
was still my pilot ; and, towed safely into port by its
assistance, I have never yet been run a-ground. The
price given for my last ventu# from Italy, a price
'Enough to bear a royal merchant down,' is the
best answer to those who have endeavoured to under-
value the cargo."
Lady Morgan fought the ground inch by inch.
The most paltry criticisms she stooped to strangle.
Her reviewer, in analysing the style of "Italy."
said ''we meet with Europe subjugated (enslaved)
to slavery." But replied Lady Morgan, " according
to my Irish bog Latin, ' subjugated' from its deri-
vation, means literally ' passed under the yoke !'
It is related that the Eomans did so upon an occasion
" * Patience perforce with wilful choler meeting ;'
but they were not therefore enslaved. The Eeviewer
is referred to any Roman History abridged for the
use of young ladies."
Lady Morgan's peroration was fine, '' And now
my Lord of literary Misrule I dismiss you! Ton
may back your hobby, and retire from the lists ;
grateful for the distinction which has been accorded
you in being thus pre-eminently held up to public
derision, as best representing the corps to which you
belong.
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226 LADY MOBGAN^ HEB CAEEEB^
" * Away ! — ^wretched Impostor I
Self-loving Braggart !
Scorn of all the Muses !
Go re?cl with thy ignorant admirers ;
Let worthy names tdone.'
" Por you, Messrs. Constable and Co., whose names
appear prefixed to a work, to which the Tonsons and
the Dodsleys would scarcely have lent theirs, I call
upon you for your thanks. It is not improbable,
that your Literary Miscellany, but for me, might
have been confined to the admiration of the tea-table
coteries of obscure villages, or the subscription
reading-rooms of p#vincial towns; or those still
lesser but pretending circles, of ^ benign ceruleans,'
who put up with * the cheap and dirty' of second
rate monthly critical Reviews ! But now I prefix
the prize-article of your Magazine to the front of
volumes destined to circulate through Europe,
through America and to reach all British colonies
wherever British enterprise has placed them. My
French publisher shall affix your ^ Eeview on Italy,'
done into the dialect of Les Halles, to the second
Edition of his translation ; and thus, preserved, your
Magazine may' be quoted by future and foreign
literati, as a curious specimen of the low state to
which criticism and periodical publication were
brought in Great Britain by ' Party spirit,' in the
beginning of the 19th century ; and, still more, it
may serve as a proof of the contempt in which such
works were held by contemporary writers — even by
one whom they most reviled, and that one — a
Woman."
The " British Critic," than a journal of consider-
able authority, but which, has since been gathered
to its editorial fathers, attacked Lady Morgan with
singular asperity and coarseness. "The 'British
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LITERAB1? AND PERSONAL. 227
Critic^ ^^ remarked Lady Morgan, ^^is edited by a
clergyman ; its contributors are clergymen, and
its readers are said to be exclnsively clergymen!
Prona such * spirits pure/ much might* have been
expected, and whatever, in their opinions, were my
manifold sins, still I might have hoped more from
their Christian mildness, than from the uncharitable
severity of my laical judges. To their pages be«
longed a tone of evangelical reproof — a pious effort
to lead the sinner to repentance ! a fair summary of
errors, and a gentle exhortation to recant them.'^
Lady Morgan having quoted from " The British
Critic'^ an unseemly paragraph in which the phrase
" matrimonial animal^' was used, she replied " that
it seemed a rather light expression to apply to that
'honorable estate which signifies unto us, the
mystical union between Christ and his Church.' "
Alluding to a pedantic phrase of the " Critic,^' she
went on to say : " This * syntheticaF debut, of the
Reverend reviewer, is only intended as an attack—
not on my book— but on my attachment to my
husband, on the coincidence of our opinions, and
the unity of our sentiments, which his Reverence,
in a tone of what he thinks 'right pleasant' irony,
terms an happy 'androgynous organization' — ' a
beautiful accord of intellectual hermaphroditism !"
For ' a man and wife' not to live ' like cat and
dog' may be a palpable innovation (in the Reverend's
opinion), a symptom of radical reform, and a vile
attack upon the social system 1 — it may be a state
which he and (to use his own phxase) his ' conjugal
yoke-fellow' may never have endured j— but surely,
whatever may have been his own private sentiments
on the subject, it is hardly accordant with the sancti-
monious gravity of that ' church and state' breviary,
'The British Critic,' to make married happiness
Digitized byV^OOQlC
228 LADY MOKGAN, HER CAREEE,
and unity the subject of a sustained and 'right
pleasant^ ridicule, through two whole pages and a
half/'
At a further stage of her argument, she observed
that those grave and deliberate* falsifications of an
author's text might be part of the church polity :
'' If this be the case, the interests of social order arc
at stake, and the author sacrificed (like the victim
of former times) may writhe, but cannot resist under
the knife of the High Priest, who j>erforms the rites
of immolation/' Lady Morgan fought "The Bri-
tish Critic" with great acumen and calmness. In the
conflict she never forgot the lady, or assumed the
amazon. She showered her sparks of diamond wit
before her swinish adversary. An idea of the dirt in
which he grovelled may be inferred from the follow-
ing elegant quotation with which Lady Morgan^s
reverend Reviewer summed up her character.
** Herewith she spew'd out of her filthy maw
A flood of poison, horrible aud black :
Her VOMIT full of books and papers was.''
Lady Morgan was of opinion that the general
interests of literature have been rather injured than
benefitted by the prevalence and influence of period-
ical Eeviews. Even the best and first of such pub-
lications have been accused of national partialities,
of personal predilections, cliquery, and of being sub-
jected to the influence and interests of the publisher
for whom they are edited ; while with respect to the
whole corps of professional critics. Lady Morgan con-
sidered that their works have tended to check the
free play of public judgment by forestalling its deci-
sions, and in pretending to guide public taste only
enfeebled it. Lady Morgan cannot be regarded as a
disinterested authority on the subject ; but be this
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LITEBABY AND PERSONAL. 229
as it may, she repeatedly scorned the pretensions of
critics, and denied their right to throw literary opi-
nion into leading strings. ^^ By imposing commen-
taries,^' she said, ^* and scanty analyses, they have
saved the indolent the trouble of reading, and tbe
shallow the pains of thinking; they have supplied
^logmatizing pretension with a tempting assortment
of ready cut-and-dried decisions upon works un-
known to it in the original ; and thus furnished it
with the means of giving the law in society, from
whence those more highly gifted with original views
and independent judgments withdraw in disgust, if
not in intimidation. It is also from the multiplicity
of periodical reviews of every calibre, and of every
price, that the sphere of blue-stocking coterie-ship
has been extended, and that literary discussion, in
more enlightened circles, has been placed under the
ban of ridicule; for all fear to share that ^ dread
laugh' raised against those Messieurs Trissotins,
who prey on the pages of periodical publications, as
silk-worms feed on less noxious leaves, and spin out
again the light nutriment they have imbibed, until
the flimsy fragile web, though it catch none but gad-
flies, usurps and supplies the place of stuff of no-
bler texture, and more sterling material.*'
The furtherance of the cause of Catholic Emanci-
pation was the generous motive which led to all the
national tales of Lady Morgan ; and it was doubtless
the transparency of the object, and the influence of
the means, which enkindled the wrath of most of her
foes. Her works having been translated into several
continental languages, the disabilities under which
Ireland laboured were thus published throughout the
civilized world.
It will be remembered that the letter from Thomas
Campbell, written in his capacity of editor of the
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230 LADY MORGAN, HER CAREER,
" New Monthly/' contained a few passages somewhat
slighting in their tone towards Lady Morgan. The \
following paragraph from the pen of Cyrus Redding,
Campbeirs friend and colleague on the '^New i
Monthly Magazine/^ is not without interest. It is
extracted from " fifty Years Recollections/' v. iii. p.
215. "I cannot avoid mentioning Lady Morgarf,
although T do not profess to make mention of living
contemporaries. I do Lady Morgan feeble justice in
•recording her warm-heartedness, her eminent talent,
her love of country,^ and sense of independance. I
have nothing to retract after thirty-four years ac-
quaintance, except my own apparent neglect in her I
regard, justiBed by absence and causes which I need
not state. The fidelity of Lady Morgan to nature's |
truth, in her pictures of existing life, the advocacy
she has ever "displayed for what is just and generous, ,
and the sympathy every honourable mind must feel '
in respect to the splenetic attacks made upon her, by ,
unmanly writers, are obvious things. Lady Morgan |
could well afi'ord to pay the usual penalty of talent.
She drew with a correct pencil the wrongs of her
country, and laboured to inculcate on its enemies
correct principles for its government.''
As Reviews, political and literary in France and
England, had not been found sufiBciently influential
in suppressing the writings of Lady Morgan, whole
volumes of animadversion were got up by the ultras
of both countries. One was published by a gallant
colonel, " "Who/' as she observed in noticing the cir-
cumstance, ^' introduced himself at my house in Dub-
lin (having no other mode of making ray acquaintance)
where he was hospitably entertained, and presented
to many persons of rank and fashion. A few weeks
after appeared his book written against my ' France.'
When he read to me the complimentary passages in
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LTTBRA.EY AND PERSONAL. 231
tht opening of his MS., I little guessed the virulence
which was to be displayed in its subsequent pages/*
A person undertook to translate " France " into the
vernacular language of that country, but it was done
so falsely that Lady Morgan found herself competed
to protest against it in the IVench journals. The
•ame hand also brought out a garbled translation
of "Florence McCarthy** in opposition to one done,
as her Ladyship said, "under her own eye" where-
upon her hypercritical assailants exclaimed, '^ Which
eye ?" Damaging criticisms and biographies of Lady
Morgan were also written by two ladies of notoriotis
character whom she refused to visit. Mr. Play fair pub-
lished a work entitled " France, not the France of Lady
Morgan,*' and against Italy there appeared a ponderous
pamphlet said to be the production of a military officer,
holding distinguished appointments under the British
government. In the title to this book. Lady Morgan
was accused, in large capitals, of " Calumnies and
Misrepresentations.'* Throughout the work, the writer
seemed to regard a difference of political opinion as
a sufficient cause for placing his opponent beyond
the pale of human courtesies. His very title page,
as applied to a subject on which two honest opi-
nions might be held, and prefixed to a work which
contradicted no material fact that could have come
within Lady Morgan's cognizance, if not in itself a
"calumny and misrepresentation," was at least a
discourtesy which came with an ill grace from one
whose very first charge against the authoress is a
want of courtesy to Lord Bentinck. " For the private
and personal character of Lord Bentinck," said Lady
Morgan, " I have the greatest respect, and I should be
most sincerely grieved, if in the heat of discussion, I
had penned a single word that would hurt his feelings/'
With the exception of Mr. Oroker, and some of
Digitized byLjOOQlC
28S LADY kOHOAK^ HEB CABERS,
the smaller fry of critics who echoed his voice and
views. Lady Morgan never made a private enemy by
the many satirical and singularly happy sketches of
real life and men, of which she was the author. "No
writer in our opinion/' observe* the ' Illustrated Lon-
don News/ " ever hit oflf the Lords and Ladies of the
Almacks of that day with a vein of Immour happier ;
and it is no slight proof of the fair and impartial
generalisation with which she chose her characters,
and of the inoffensive though piquant style of her
portraiture, that the caricatures in which so many
of their best friends might have recognised some of
their traits never were received as personalities, never
were known to give offence, never diminished by
one member the happy circle which loved to crowd
round the gifted artist/'
The malignity with which the band of desperado
critics pursued this brilliant woman knew not where
to stop. In January, 1 822, the influence of some
high Tories so far prevailed, that the opinion of the
notorious Orange Attorney-General, Saurin, with
that of his colleague, the Solicitor-General, were
taken whether the Lord-Lieutenant of Ireland had
any power to confer the honour of knighthood ; and
both gave it as their decided opinion, that since the
Union no such right has existed. The object is said,
whether rightly or wrongly,, to have been the de-
thronement of Ladies Morgan and Clarke. A copy
of the opinion was sent to Lord Wellesley, as an-
nounced in the *' Gentleman's Magazine^' of the
day; but the question, it would seem, fell into
abeyance. Among those whose honours were de-
clared to be null and void by the law officers of
the crown in lb2£, were Sir Arthur Clarke, (brother-
in-law to Lady Morgan) Sir Edward Stanley, Sir
Thomas "Whelan, Sir Charles Morgan, Sir John
Digitized byLjOOQlC
LITERAET AND PERSONAL. 233
Stevenson (Moore\<» colleague,) Sir Thomas Moriarty,
and Sir William Betham. The latter, however, was
a staunch Conservative: and if the design of the
Tories were really to bring the Morgans and Olarkes
to the dust, some friends must necessarily have
perished in the wreck.
It is, we think, hardly creditable to the late Lord
Jeffrey, who professed to conduct the " Edinburgh
Eeview" on thoroughly liberal principles, that he
should not have made some effort to sustain our
2»athoress against the truculent attacks of its critical
rival and political foe, the " Quarterly/^ Yet Jeffrey
held his peace. The contemptuous silence which he
observed towards Tjady Morgan, was if possible more
damaging than the censure which no one knew how
to wield with more telling effect. At length in July,
1824, the '^Edinburgh Review^' broke silence on
the subject ; and the very first allusion to our au^
thoress, under her maiden or married name, which
found expression in the great Whig fieview,
occurs in an exceedingly acrimonious critique, on her
*' Life of Salvator Rosa." This, if not as complete
as it might be, is surely a very fascinating art-
biography.
A contemporary satire on Lady Morgan, called
*' Glorvina*s Warning" notices with complaisance the
unworthy hostility of the "Edinburgh Review.^^
** Let her fly from the anger of Jeffrey's sure eye,
Ah ! home let her speed — ^for the havoc is nigh !''
The next glimpse which the readers of the " Edin-
burgh Review^' obtain of Lady Morgan is in the year
1825, when her " Absenteeism '' apparently furnishes
the critic with a theme. But the paper is a mere
statistical disquisition on absentees; and the name
of Lady Morgan is mentioned once only, and that
Digitized byLjOOQlC
284 LADT IfOROAir^ HEB OABEBB,
with neither praise or censure. For many years
after no further notice is taken by the '' Edinburgh
Keview" of the labours of Lady Merman.
The reasbn which induced Lady Morgan to select
the life of Salvator Rosa in preference to that of other,
perhaps more illustrious, Italian Painters was the
peculiar character of the man, rather than the extra-
ordinaiy merits of the artist. But though enthu-
siastically admiring the works of this great Neapolitan
master, she estimated still more highly the qualities
of the Italian Patriot who stood in the foreground of
times not the most forward or tolerant, and in the
teeth of persecution openly and fearlessly declared
his sentiments. Rosa possessed a powerful ilitellect,
bound by strong philosophical sinews, much deep
feeling, with a wUd and gloomy imagination, which
came forth even in his most petulent sketches and
careless designs. Lady Morgan having found during
her Italian researches that Salvator Rosa^s life had
been greatly misrepresented, and strongly denounced,
undertook the somewhat Quixotic task of combating
these strictures, and in doing so, she obtained no
thanks from the RomanCatholic party, and muchabuse
from the Conservatives.
In this, as in other works which preceded it.
Lady Morgan expressed sentiments which, however
creditable as strongly favouring liberty, were perhaps
more or less open to objection in consequence of the
intempei-ate language which sometimes clothed them.
*'The- strong national enthusiasm of childhood,'*
observes Mr. H. F. Chorley, a friend of Lady Mor-
gan, " at once somewhat indiscriminate in its warmth
and limited in its scope, will be seen to have ended
in fearless and decided political partisanship, in the
espousing of ultra hberal doctrines, abroad as well
as at home/' But let us hear Lady Morgan's vindi-
Digitized by LjOOQ IC
UTBBABY AND PEB80NAL. 235
cation. "For myself at least/' she writes in her
Preface to the last edition of O'Donnel, " born and
dwelling in Ireland amidst my countrymen and their
sufferings, I saw, and I described, I felt, and I
pleaded ; and if a political bias was ultimately taken,
it originated in the natural condition of things, and
not in 'malice aforethought' of the writer. The
same womanly sympathies have governed my writings
and directed my views for other countries ; and I
have never denounced a public wrong which has not
come home to my own feelings through the spectacle
of private suffering. In this, the proprieties of the
sex cannot fairly be considered as compromised ; and
if the first step towards observation be to feel, and
the second only to think, the female temperament
cannot be so adverse to the perception of the higher
moral truths as has been vulgarly and plausibly pre-
tended. From the rack and the faggot of the
middle ages, to the penal laws of Ireland, and the
carcere duro of modern Austria, there are sources of
the deepest of all human interests, and details of the
wildest romance, beyond all that the most fertile
imagination can devise, or fictitious narrative present.
These are mines for the novelist to explore; and
should they yield likewise lessons of practical wisdom,
adapted to the awakening intelligence of the people
of the great European republic, the circumstance is
surely no derogation from their fitness for his pur-
pose.''
'^ Absenteeism," which was published by Colbum
in 1825, and met with a large sale, had previously ap-
peared in detached papers through the medium of
the ''New Monthly Magazine." Written with that
flowing energetic eloquence which characterised all
the productions of the Irish de Stael, the work bears
ample testimony of her love of fatherland, deep re-
Digitized byLjOOQlC
2S6 LABT JIOBGAN^ HBB CARBEB^
search, extensive reading/ play of fancy, and piquancy
of satire. The peculiar bent of Lady Morgan's
mind, however, inevitably imparted a picturesque
turn to her ideas, and induced her to view the subject
less as an economist, than as a poet and a woman.
To this graceful performance. Sir Charles Morgan
contributed a soundly studied and elegantly written
Preface.
In her exertions to promote Catholic enfranchise-
ment. Lady Morgan found in Sir Charles a zealous
and most efficient ally. During the five and twenty
years which this gifted and amiable man spent in
Ireland, he devoted a considerable portion of his
time, talents, and means to furthering the Catholic
cause. Like the ancestors of the Geraldines, he soon
became more Irish than the Irish themselves. He
advocated the cause of the people and their religion
not only in the public journals, but in the reviews
and periodicals of the time : he loved civil and reli-
gious liberty with enthusiastic ardour, and his house,
both in Dubhn and London, was always open to
sufferers in that great cause from whatever land they
came.
Sir Charles Moi^an was an able and researchfuJ,
as well as an eloquent writer. He soon became very
favorably known for the light and sparkling style in
which he conveyed valuable truths combined with curi-
ous fancies. That the knight's prestige was not purely
local is evidenced by the fact that his " Philosophy
of Life'* and " Philosophy of Morals" were translated
into French by the Count de Tracy, an eminent me-
taphysician, and into Italian by another hand equally
competent. To Lady Morgan's books of travel in
France and Italy, Sir Charles contributed the chapters
on law, medical science, and statistics. But his
views on religion were unfortunately not as orthodox
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LITESARY AND PKBSONAL. 237
as. might be desired. His senfciments had a decided
tendency to materialism , and some of his metaphy-
sical interpolations in the writings of Lady Morgan,
drew her into not a few difficulties.
His disposition, howeyer, was thoroughly amiable
and endearing. Mr. Staunton, one of the oldest
Irish friends of Sir Charies, writes: "He was in
every way a most interesting and estimable person.
Everybody heard of his talents and accomplishments,
but no person who did not know him long and inti-
mately could sufficiently appreciate the suavity of his
manners ; the kindness of his heart, the warmth and
steadiness of his attachments, his universal philan-
throphy ; his hatred of every species of wrong doing,
and his thorough devotedness to the cause of civil
and religious liberty in all climes, and under all cir-
cumstances. He was one of the most agreeable ac-
quaintances in the world— always in good humour,
unaffected, kind, considerate, sympathising and hos-
pitable. In all the relations of life he was ex-
emplary.'' Cyrus Redding, speaking of Sir C. Mor*
gan, says that " he was one of the most truthful men
he ever met.'*
A writer has advanced the opinion that Six Charles
was of humble and impoverished extraction. No-
thing can be more erroneous. Lady Morgan reteis
in her Diary to her husband's aunt, " a wealthy old
lady de province, who has more than once turned
the scale of an election, and who boasts of her illus-
trious race as being descended from Morgan the
buccaneer, and sister to the brave General Morgan
in India/' The old lady seems to have been a deci-
dedly strong-minded woman. A gang of burglars
having broken into her house she went alone to see
what was the matter, and having found a fellow
getting out at the yrindow, she caught him by the
Digitized by LjOOQ IC
238 LADY MORGAN^ HEB CABEES,
leg, and held him until she examined every feature of
his face so as to be able to swear to him. Her
friends advised her not to prosecute lest the gang
should avenge it, but she exclaimed, "Justice is
justice, and the villain shall \ie hanged/'
The house occupied by Sir Charles and Lady
Morgan during their long sojourn in Ireland, was
No. 35, Kildire Street, opposite the great aris-
tocratic Club which takes its name froni that
thoroughfare. It is a long and showy house exte-
riorly ; but not possessing any back rooms, the im-
posing appearance of size w4iich it presents to the
passer-by is, in a great degree, deceptive. The small
portico which still shelters the hall-door was erected
by the Morgans.
In this agreeably situated mansion there was regu-
larly held for a long series of years, a still more
voluminous series of most delightful and select lite-
rary reunions, which are remembered by the sur-
viving favoured few who had the privilege of access,
with enthusiastic feelings of pride and pleasure. A
constant guest was the brilliant, eccentric, and almost
forgotten Charles Kobert Maturin. Domestic sor-
rows and pecuniary reverses threw a gloom over the
latter years of his existence ; and, as h contemporary
record informs us, every inducement failed to make
him desert his melancholy hearth save the intellectual
circle which Lady Morgan illuminated by her spark-
ling wit, or the romantic solitudes of Wicklow
wherein some of his richest veins of inspiration had
been caught in happier bygone days. Among those
who figured at Lady Morgan's conversazioni were
Shell, Curran, Lords Cloncurry, Charlemont, Dun-
sany, and Miltown, Hamilton Eowan, Thomas
Moore, General Cockburn, Edward Moore, Judge
Fletcher, North, Finlay, Kirw^n the chemist, Pro-
Digitized byLjOOQlC
LITERAUY AND PEBSOKAL. 239
fessor Radichi T.O.D., Chief-Baron Woulfe, Staun-
ton, Berwick, Corry, and the accomplished kins-
women of the hostess, Lady and the Misses Clarke.
The rising artistic talent of Ireland received constant
attention from Lady Morgan. Comerford, Mul-
rennin, and Lover were constant guests. Kirwan,
to whom we have alluded, was a man of eccentric
and methodical habits. In declining one of Lady
Morgan's invitations he nrged, as an excuse, that it
was not shaving day.
Lady Morgan occasionally wore a patronising air
which was not at aU times agreeable to the persons
brought in contact with her. Tlie following little
anecdote proves this. P — only went once or twice
to the evening receptions at Kildare Street, and de-
parted with the impression that he would rather not
repeat the visit. Lady Morgan asked L — to try
and persuade P — to come ; but L — was obliged to
tell her that his friend was a man of peculiar tem-
perament, and preferred to remain away.
Like Moore— whom she resembled in more ways
than one, in size and elastic constitution of mind—
her weakness consisted in a too strong desire for
aristocratic society ; but unlike him she ruled in the
circle where she moved. She was also excessively
fond of securing "Lions.'' "When Sir J — B —
visited Dublin previous to undertaking his onerous
duties in C- ; Lady Morgan invited him to come
and take tea with her. "My stay and time is
limited," he repUed, " but if it is merely to take a
quiet cup tite-a-tite with yourself, I shall have very
great pleasure." the stipulation was agreed to, and
an evening named; but a day or two after, the Lion
received a note to the following effect. "Dear Sir
John — Do not forget the cup of tea and me. You
need not fear that I. will have any gaping folk to
Digitized by LjOOQ IC
240 LADY MOEOAK^ HEB CAEEEB^
stare and bore you — I have asked none but noble-
men of high rank, with whom you cannot fail to
feel at home and pleasant/' '' I was so vexed/' ob-
served Sir J — B — , as he told the anecdote, " that
I immediately wrote to say that during the limited
period of my stay in Dublin, I wished to spend my
time in the society of intellectual people from whom
I might get some useful information, and that I
feared it would not be in my power to join her lady-
ship's titled friends on that evening."
It rarely happened, however, that Lady Morgan's
receptions were exclusively composed of coroneted
folk. Her evening meetings at 35, Kildare Street,
rendered it, for many years, a complete centre of
Opinion in Dublin, and were not without influence
in promoting the Catholic cause. Here the Catholic
leaders invariably learned the latest and most au-
thentic news of Cabinet thoughts, divisions, and diffi-
culties. Lady Morgan maintained a correspondence
with some of the most influential political person-
ages ; and the substance of their letters frequently
oozed out, and shaped the course of the democratic
leaders accordingly. In Mr. Torrens M'Cullagh's
Life of Sheil we have some illustrations of this fact.
For instance, " It happened that one evening at the
house of Lady Morgan, a letter from Mr. Hyde Vil-
liers to his brother (the present Earl of Clarendon),
then Commissioner of Customs in Dublin, was
shewn to Mr. Woulfe. It presented anew the con-
siderations stated by Lord Anglesey; and coming
from one who was believed to be aware of the feel-
ings and sentiments of the government, it carried no
little weight. The contents of the letter were com-
municated to Mr. Sheil, who invited a second party
to meet at dinner thefollowmg evening."
A poetical sq^uib of the day casually refers in so
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LTTERABY AliD PERSONAL. 24 L
humorous a way to these evening receptions of
" Miladi/' as Denon and La Fayette called her, that
we are tempted to jot down the entire stanza from
memory.
'* Och Dublin City there is no doubtin',
Bates every city upon the say ;
'Tis there youM hear O'Connell spoutin'.
An' Lady Morgan niakin' tay ;
For 'tis the capital o' the finest Nation,
Wid charmin' pisantry upon a fruitful sod,
Fightin' like divils for conciliation.
An' hatin' each other for the love of God."
The rapidity and power with which Lady Morgan
wielded pithy but playful argument, attracted some
wonder, and not a little admiration. Seated on her
little throne, she has frequently given battle to a
dozen expert logicians at the same moment.
Apropos of her conversational contests, there is an
amusing anecdote related of Mr. Curry, who, in a
spirited discussion with her Ladyship at length got
the worst of it. Our authoress, exaggerating the
fashion of the day, wore little, or indeed we might
say, no sleeves whatever to her dress; and a mere
strap over her shoulders supported it. Curry was
walking away from her coterie, when she called out,
'* Ah ! come back, Mr. Curry, and acknowledge that
you are fairly beaten.^' ''At any rate,'^ said he
turning round, " I have this consolation, you can^t
laugh at me in your sleeve.^' The portrait prefixed to
the last edition of ''The Wild Irish Girl," furnishes
an idea of Lady Morgan's style of wearing apparel
thirty years ago.
The great secret of Lady Morgan's remarkable
longevity, unflagging spirits, and unfading memory
to the last, was doubtless traceable to the care with
which, from her earliest days of authorcraft, she ab<
Digitized by LjOOQIC
242 LADT MOBGAK^ HE& CABEER,
stained from overtasking the brain, or making a toil
of a pleasure. She never wrote to exhaustion, or
drained the cup of inspiration to the dregs. For
each hour of hard labour she took two for relaxation;
and in every accessible bit of frolic and festivity she
participated with hearty raciness and abandon. For
instance, at the gay fancy ball given in Dublin by
the Lady Mayoress in 1818, (a newspaper report of
which lies before us) Lady Morgan is announced as
supporting " with her wonted vivacity and talent"
the part of a French Flower Girl. Sir Charles
Morgan sustains the character of a French Peasant,
Sir Arthur Clarke that of an old Grandmamma, Lord
Cloncurry a Friar, General Cockburn, Sir Peter
Teazle ; " Two superb and tasteful dominos,'* Lords
Charlemont and Caulfield; a Bogwood Man, Mr.
Burrowes, and *Hhe Merry Wives of Windsor,"
Mesdames Crampton and Bushe. A few weeks after-
wards, Mrs. Putland gave a fancy ball at which, says
the paper of the day, " Ladies Morgan and Clarke
with Sir Arthur Clarke, as a fiddler, supported the
character of Ballad Singers with great spirit.'*
Lady Morgan was probably induced as much by a
sense of duty, as by inclination, to participate in
every accessible source of gaiety and excitement in
Dublin. For how could she be reasonably expected
to depict scenes with accuracy of which she had not
ocular demonstration and experience ? " Whether,"
it has been justly observed by a contemporary critic,
'* whether it is a review of volunteers in the Phoenix
Park, or a party at the Castle, a masquerade, a meet-
ing of United Irishmen, a riot at^the Dublin Thea-
tre, or a pig-day at Bog Moy— m every change of
scene and situation our authoress wields the pen of
a ready writer." The volunteer review in the Phcenix
Park under the auspices of the Duke of Belvoir
y Google
LITBRARY AlfD PEESONAL. 243
(Rutland) to which Lady Morgan's critic alludes as a
graphic sketch may be found in the third chapter of
"The O'Briens and the O'Flahertys/' Another
prime secret of Lady Morgan's good health and long
life, was the regular walking exercise which, in all
weathers, she daily performed. Round Leinster
Lawn, recently so much altered by the fine edi-
fices on each side, it was the daily custom of Lady
Morgan to walk before dinner for two hours or more.
The winter season of 1826 was one of great severity.
Snow, many feet deep, filled the streets ; the pave-
ment was a glacier; and every roof sent down its
avalanche- to the risk of the unthinking heads which
entrusted themselves within its reach. ' Industry
stood petrified ; the poor perished ; hospitality closed
its door, and diners-out began to fear that they
should not even dine at home. An occasional sledge
rattled over the crisp and crackling snow, while
street urchins skated along the congealed gutter, and
pelted snow-balls freely. The sensible folk, in their
own estimation, preferred the fireside to the iceberg ;
and notwithstanding the pangs of dispepsia, remained
hermetically encased in rugs and fauteuils. Lady
Morgan in a "Fragment of a Journal'' writes:
" Among the first to break through this quarantine
was myself. Occupying an old-fashioned house, in a
dull, old-fashioned street, (which owes its distinction
to the former residence of the illustrious family of
Lreland's only duke) I was tempted to take advan-
tage of its vicinity to Leinster Lawn, (the garden of
the ex-palace of the Qeraldines), in search of fresh
air and blood-stirring exercise. Muffled in furs and
plunged in snow boots, I was floundering through
its white and untracked space, when two bkck spots
at the further extremity of the grounds, near the
gate which opens to the privileged who hold its
R ft
' Digitized by LjOOQ IC
244 LADY MORGAN^ HEB CABEEE^
key in Merrion Square^ caught my attention/'
They grew in size as Lady Morgan approached, and
what fiie at first took for two crows, proved on closer
infection, to be two lovely children of the higher ranks
of life, standing knee-deep in snow, each endeavour-
ing to support the other. Their noses were blue,
their lips swollen, and their tears congealed as they
fell. Lady Morgan released them from their jeo-
pardy, rubbed their little limbs, and wiped their
bleared cheeks. A very long dialogue follows which
would seem out of place to transfer to these pages.
The anecdote shews the singular courage with which
Lady Morgan in the severest weather, allowed no
obstacle to deter her from regular daily exercise. It
may well be supposed that these walks gave her a
generous appetite. A distinguished literary character
writes, with an apology for committing to paper so
uninteresting a topic : " Her memory should also be
respected for her attention to the culinary art — in
the words of a learned French writer — Hhat first of
all arts which procures us the most frequent and
most durable enjoyment.' In her continental tours
she did not overlook the important knowledge for
which Archestratus visited foreign lands in the most
famous days of Athens. This gustative and intel-
lectual Greek, the friend of the sous of Pericles, tra-
velled only with a view to the pleasures of the palate,
embodying the varied information he collected m his
poem ^^Gastronomia*'— the standard authority on
points of taste, among the epicures of Athens.
Lady Morgan, in like manner, profited by her visits
to foreign climes, to bring home the best culinary
receipts, copied in the original languages, in a book
specially devoted to the purpose — which volume (far
more interesting than the Sybelline) she used every
day to consult, doing into English for that important
Digitized byLjOOQlC
LITERARY AND PERSONAL. 245
functionary, her cook, such portions of its contents
as were to be realised for her epicurean guests at
dinner."
At the viceregal drawing-rooms of the Marquis and
Marchioness Wellesley, Lady Morgan frequently
figured. " Here it was/' writes one who participated
in the Castle festivities, '^Here it was that I saw
Lady Morgan for the first time ; and as I had long
pictured her to my imagination as a sylphUke person,
nothing could equal my astonishment when the
celebrated authoress, in propria persona, stood be-
fore me. She certainly formed a strange figure in
the midst of that dazzling scene of beauty and
splendour. Every female present wore feathers and
trains ; but Lady Morgan scorned both appendages.
Hardly more than four feet high, with a spine not
quite straight, slightly uneven shoulders and eyes,
Lady Morgan glided about in a close cropped wig,
bound by a fillet or solid band of gold, her large
face all animation, and with a witty word for every-
body. I afterwards saw her in the dress circle at
the theatre. She was cheered enthusiastically. Her
dress was different from the former occasion, but not
less original. A red Celtic cloak, formed exactly on
the plan of Qrainneuille's, fastened by a rich gold
fibula, or Irish Tara brooch, imparted to her little
ladyship a gorgeous and withal a picturesque ap-
pearance, which antecedent associations considerably
strengthened."
Our correspondent speaks of the unevenness of
Lady Morgan's eyes. Though not perfectly straight,
however, they were remarkably large, beautifully blue,
lustrous, and electrical.
"The O'Briens and the O'Flahertys" an Irish
novel in four volumes, was published by Colburn, in
November, 1827, and as Lady Morgan espoused the
Digitized byLjOOQlC
246 LADY MORGAN, HER CAREER,
cause of the oppressed people of Ireland with renewed
ardour in this book, while mercilessly lashing the
ascendancy party, it may well be supposed that the
sluices of Tory invective were promptly let loose
upon her. Although the Jesuits received some
keen strokes of satire from the pen of Lady Morgan
in " The O'Briens and the O'Flahertys'' the work may
be said to have had for its object the Civil Emancipa-
tion of Irish Cathohcism. Never were labours more
thoroughly disinterested.
"In again presenting an Irish novel to the
public,'' wrote Lady Morgan, "I hope I am not
doing a foolish thing : and yet I feel, that as far ds
m^ own interests are concerned, I am not doing a
wise one. To live in Ireland, and to write for it, is
to live and write poignard sur gorge ; for there is
no country where it is less possible to be useful with
impunity, or where the penalty on patriotism is levied
with a more tyrannous exaction. Called, however,
to the ground by the sarcasm of enemies, and by
the counsels of friends, I venture forth once more,
with something less perhaps of intrepidity, than
when I ' fleshed my maiden sword' under the banners
of ' The Wild Irish Giri ;' but in the full force of
that true female quality, over which time holds no
jurisdiction — perseverance.
" I anticipate upon this, as upon similar occasions,
that I shall be accused of unfemiqine presumption in
' meddling with politics ;' but while so many of my
countrywomen 'meddle' with subjects of much
higher importance : — while missionary misses and
proselyting peereeses affect to * stand instead of God,
amongst the children of men,' may not I be per-
. mitted, under the influence of merely human sympa-
thies, to interest myself for human wrongs ; to preach
in my way on the ' evil that hath come upon my
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LTTEaAEY AND PERSONAL. 247
people/ and to ' fight with gentle words, till time
brings friends/ in that cause, which made Esther
eloquent, and Judith brave ? For love of country is
of no sex. It was by female patriotism that the
Jews attacked their tyrants, and 'broke down their
stateliness by the hands of a woman / and who
(said their enemies,) ' would despise a nation which
had amongst them such women V "
In reviving a paragraph from this long forgotten
Preface we are enabled to protect Lady Morgan's
memory from an imputation that has often been
cast upon it. We shall say nothing of the cavils of
sundry ephemeral critics, but there is one statement
in a work of standard authority which certainly
demands a protest. Speaking of Lady Morgan's
Irish novels. Chambers' "Cyclopedia of English
Literature/' {v. ii. 581) says: "One complaint
against these Irish sketches was their personality,
the authoress indicating that some of her portraits at the
Viceregal Court, and these moving in the * best
society of Dublin, were intended for well known
characters." But Lady Morgan, it seems, went out
of her way to declare the contrary and to prevent
the possibility of misconception. " The personages
introduced on the scene/' she observes in her
Preface to 'The O'Briens and the O'Elahertys/ " are
those which belong to the times described. They
are alike necessary to the vraisemblance of the story,
and to the fidelity of the portrait : and ' I beseech,
very heartily, at my desire, my requests, and my
petitions/ the zealots of party spirit, and the purvey-
ors of private scandal, to retrain from the application
of my characters to their own purposes ; and from
the fabrication of false ' keys/ by which their petty
larceny has heretofore attempted to rob me of the
little merit of that * fearlessness' with which I have
y Google
218 LADY HOBGAK^ HEB CAREEB,
held the mirror up to natnre, without subterfuge and
without evasion. - May I be permitted here to ob-
serve, that with the exception of those public charac-
ters, whose delineation was almost a plagiarism, and
whose peculiarities arose out of the political state of
Ireland, and were necessary to the display of its
story, I have drawn none but such as represent a
class, or identify a genus. Even my Ladies Llam-
beris and Dunore were illustrations, not individuals.
They were intended to represent the spoiled children
of high society in all ages, from the charming Duchess
de Maine, with her inimitable il riy a que moi qui ai
toujours raison, to the modern mistresses of supreme
bon ton, — all alike the creatures of circumstances
the most unfavourable to moral consistency. However,
I may have fallen a main basse on popes and poten-
tates, — taken the field against Austria, to ' hang a
calfs skin on those recreant limbs,^ and put forth my
protocol against the Holy Alliance, I have held
private life sacred, and have religiously abstained
from bringing forward a single anecdote or circum-
stance incidental to the life of any private individual.
The only 'key/ therefore, that I acknowledge, is
that which is to be found in the great repository of
human nature. Au reste, I grieve, that in self-de-
fence, I must wound the self-love of those ' walking
ladies and gentlemen,' who affect to tremble lest
* Lady Morgan should put them into her book,' — .
by dropping into their 'unwilling ears' the secret
that tout bois liest pas bon d /aire Mercure.
Like Macbeth, ' I cannot strike at wretched kernes ;'
and not even for the benefit of a pufiBng ' key' would
I transfer to ' my book' the obscure insignificance and
flippant pretension that bore and worry me in society.
I also take the opportunity of averting, the wrath of
half the fair bureaucratie of Ireland, roused by my
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LITEBAEY AND PBKSONAL. 249
palpable hit at a certain red velvet gown, in Florence
McCarthy (for of the genuine aristocracy of rank or wit,
I have no cause to complain,) by informing those whom
it may concern, that the said red velvet gown belonged
to a person, with whom I had every right to take every
liberty — even to tlie libellous extent of 'putting
her into my book,' when, wliere, and how I pleased, —
that is, to myself/'
"The O'Briens and the OTlahertys," although
professedly a fiction, was really a work of some his-
torical importance, and may be safely consulted in
many of the details by statistic or historic writers.
We learn, for instance, from Moore's Diary {vii. 192)
that General Corbet assured Moore that the account
of his escape from Kilmainham, as given by Lady
Morgan in this novel, was remarkably accurate in
the leading particulars. The foot notes contained
many rich, and but little known morceaux of Irish
history. There are some tastes which the style of
the work may not please, but with its political aim
no critic, however cavilling, could well quarrel. ''The
O'Briens and the O' Flaherty s," contains, we fear,
a few coarse expressions; and in common with its
predecessors, exhibits a somewhat inconsistent love
for republicanism and aristocracy.
Lady Morgan assures us that if she drew a coarse
picture it was with a view to illustrate happily extinct
manners, and to shew the great progress which has
been made in refinement since. The epoch which
she selected for illustration had been hitherto un-
touched, and possessed deep interest in a national
point of view as embracing events which prepared
the Eebellion and accomplished the Union. An epoch
of transition between the ancient despotism of brute
force, and the dawning reign of public opinion, it
was characterized by the supremacy of an oligarchy,
in whom the sense of irresponsible power had en-
Digitized by VjUUV It:
250 LADY MORGAN, HER CAREER,
gendered a contempt for private morals, as fatal as
their own political venality.
" The portraiture of such an epoch/^ she writes,
"is curious from its evanescence, and consolatory by
comparison with the present times, — times the most
fatal to faction, and favourable to the establishment
of equal rights, which Ireland has yet witnessed. It
may also serve as a warning to a large and influential
portion of the public, which has yet to learn, that
to advocate arbitrary government, is to nourish moral
disorder. In the ranks of intolerance, are to be
found many who make the largest pretensions to
purity of principle, and to propriety of conduct.
Should any such deign to trace in the following
pages, a picture of manners, far below the prevalent
tone of refinement now assumed as the standard of
good company, it may diminish their confidence in
their favourite political maxims, to remark, that all
which has been thus gained for society, has been
obtained by a progressive abandonment of the system
they advocate.''
The great novel, as they called it, was not received
with much favour by the Enghsh reviews; and on
one severe critique in the "Literary Gazette " a most
important event in the annals of modern hterature
hinged. Lady Morgan's new novel having been no-
ticed with strong animadversion by that Journal
(which had for many years previously wielded potent
influence in the world of letters, and as a weekly
critical organ enjoyed a thorough monopoly) her
publisher, Mr. Colburn, took great ofl'ence at it,
and in conjunction with the late James Silk Buck-
ingham, he started the " Athenseun)." Mr. Orme,
in a private letter to WiUiam Jerdan, the then Editor
of the " Literary Gazette," speaks ' of this " very
indiscreet article," and adds : " In confidence allow
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LITERARY AND PERSONAL. 251
me to state to you, that overtures have been made
to the house respecting a weekly literary journal by
one of the first publishing and carrying houses in
the trade, who, in conjunction with others of equal
power, have determined to support such a paper,
being careful that it is conducted with ability, dis-
cretion, and impartiality/'
Mr. Jerdan can hardly be said to have been in
a position to judge Lady Morgan's performances with
a dispassionate and unprejudiced eye. That gentle-
man was very severely handled by Lady Morgan in
her " Letter to the Reviewers of Italy.'' " I confess,"
he writes in his 'Autobiography,' "never to have
admired aught of Lady Morgan but her talents ; and
I fancy there was no love lost between us ; for I
remember at one of poor dear Lady Stepney's soirees
that innocent being caught occasion to introduce
Lady Morgan and myself formally to each other.
I had a laugh in my sleeve, and I afterwards heard
through the kind communicativeness of the female
coterie, that her Ladyship signified her wonder at
the idea of presenting that odious man to Her l"
Jerdan's review of "The O'Briens and the OTla-
hertys " was exceedingly sarcastic and condemnatory.
" Two o^ three years ago," said the ' Literary Gazette,'
"when we happened to dissent from Lady Morgan
on some literary estimate, she published a replication
in which she elegantly threatened to ' stir us up with
a long pole,' We have read the ' O'Briens and the
OTlahertys,' and we are convinced, by its length,
that it is the identical pole which was then menaced."
After cautioning the females of England against
reading this book, Mr. Jerdan adds : " we grieve
that such a picture should have come from the pen
of a woman." "The libel, too, is wrought up with
congenial spirit." "In all our reading we never
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252 LADY KOEGAN, HER CAEEER,
met with a description wliich tended so thorougbly
to lower the feminine character/' *' Mrs. Behn and
Mrs. Centlivre, it is true, might be more unguarded ;
but the gauze veil cannot hide the deformities — and
Lady Morgan's taste has not been of efficient power
to 61tcr into cleanliness the original pollution of her
infected fountain/'
To tlie simple accident of this caustic attack upon
Lady Morgan, the birth of that mighty literary censor,
the "Athenaeum," may be directly traced. While
under the incubus of James Silk Buckingham, the"
"Athenaeum " did not make much progress, nor did
the labours of Jolm Stirling, who succeeded liim as
editor, tend much to stimulate it ; but from the hour
that this Journal passed into the hands of Wentworth
Dilke, it became almost by magic a powerful and
profitable literary engine. It perhaps laboured under
one disadvantage during the editorial regime of Mr.
Dilke. Dilke, although an able writer of fragmentary
papers, never succeeded in writing a book; and
authors who received a severe castigation at his hands
were not slew in retorting that this "peevishness"
arose from his own failure in authorcraft. " His
milk of human kindness," said one, " the thunder of
failure has turned into vinegar." At length, the
accession of Hepworth Dixon, an author of merit
and importance, to the censorial throne of the
"Athenaeum," rescued it from the vapid taunt of
which we have spoken. •
Her Ladyship's next lucubration was the "Book
of the Boudoir," a series of autobiographical sketches,
and recollections of her friends. This work displays
the wonted energy and sparkle of Lady Morgan's
style. Like all autobiographical performances it had
the fault of being a little egotistical. A long dia*
logue with Eobert Owen, the famous Utopian Phi-
lanthropist, is characteristic and interesting.
Digitized by V.J
oogle
UTERAEY AKD PERSONAL. 253
In 1828, O^CJonnell paid a graceM tribute to the
national feelings and achievements of Lady Morgan.
''To Irish female talent and patriotism we owe
much/' he said : '' There is one name consecrated by
a generous devotion to the best interests of Ireland —
a name sacred to the cause of liberty, and of every-
thing great, virtuous, and patriotic — the name of an
illustrious female who has suffered unmanly persecu-
tion for her talented, and chivalrous adherence to her
native land. Need he say that he alluded to Lady
Morgan. Her name is received with enthusiasm by
the people of that country where her writings create
and perpetuate among the youth of both sexes a pa-
triotic ardour in the cause of everything that is noble
and dignified.^' Considering her great popularity in
Ireland, it is ingleed no wonder that Lady Morgan
should so long have preferred " Dear Dirty Dublin,^'
as she herseK called it, to a splendid house in Regent
Street, which the lafe Mr. Colburn offered her rent
free.
Before the year 1828 terminated. Emancipa-
tion became certain. On the motion of Eichard
Lalor Sheil, the Catholic Association, after en-
during, under various forms, from 1760, was for-
mally, finally, and perpetually dissolved. Sir Charles
Morgan had been a zealous member of this body, and
accompanied by his patriotic wife, assisted at the in-
teresting ceremony of its dissolution. In her last
Preface to "The Wild Irish Giri,'' Lady Morgan
speaks of the Catholic Association as "that greatest
league of genius, patriotism, and courage, that Ire-
laud ever had associated in her cause.''
The " Quarterly Review,'' when under the editorial
management of Mr. Lockhart, noticed, very tren-
chantly, a growing error in biographical composition.
It remarked that such a favorable colour was usually
Digitized byV^OOQlC
254 LADY MORGAN, HER CAREER,
spread over the picture that its fidelity must be rather
worse than dubious. Everything unfavorable was
omitted, '* and upon the whole," added the ' Quar-
terly,' " we feel corroborated in our doubts, whether
the very best of tins species of biography can be con-
sidered in any other light than a romance of real life
— a picture bf which the principal figure must be
considerably flattered, and everything else sacrificed
to its prominence and effect."
We, at least, have endeavoured to keep clear of the
error which the great critical organ of England has
indicated, and while protecting the memory of Lady
Morgan from the shafts of calumny, we have not
hesitated te give attention to every honest expression
of opinion on both sides. No picture is perfect with-
out lights and shadows. A brilliant portrait deprived
of shade, would be fit only for the lumber-room.
Impressed with the truth of this remark, we shall
mate a few transcriptions from the note-book of
Prince Puckler Moskau, who made a tour, through
England and Ireland in 1828 : — " 1 was very eager,"
says the distinguished stranger, "to make the ac-
quaintance of a woman whom I rate so highly as an
authoress. I found her, however, very different from
what I had pictured her to myself. She is a little
frivolous, lively woman, apparently between thirty
and forty, neither pretty nor ugly, but by no means
disposed to resign all claims to the former, and with
really fine and expressive eyes. She has no idea of
mauvaise honte, or embarrassment ; her manners af-
fect the aisance and levity of the fashionable world,
which, however, do not sit calmly or naturally upon
her. She has the English weakness, that of talking
incessantly of fashionable acquaintances, and trying
to pass for very recherchee to a degree, quite unworthy
of a woman of such distinguished talents."
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LITERARY AND PERSONAL. 253
The German Prince adds, that Lady Morgan in
conversation was often very biting and sarcastic, of
which there cannot be, indeed, thef slightest doubt,
John Wilson Croker, ever on the watch to give a
cat to Lady Morgan, observed, in reviewing
the Prince's book, that "She was an established
authoress six-and-twenty years ago, and that if, ac-
cording to the Prince's calculation, she was then
only eight or nine years of age, she was such a juvenile
prodigy, as would-be quite as worthy to fill a shew
waggon at Bartholomew Fair, as her ladyship's name-
sake, who was born with double joints, and could
lift a sack of corn with her teeth when she was only *
six years old/' Lady Morgan, on a closer acquain-
tance, would seem to have improved in the estima-
tion of Prince Puckler, for in the Diary of a subse-
quent day, he tells us, " I spent a very pleasant
evening to-dajr at Lady Morgan's. The company
was small but amusing, and enlivened by the presence
of two very pretty friends of our hostess who sang
in the best Italian style, [the Misses Qarke]. I
talked a great deal with Lady * Morgan on various
subjects, and she has talent and feeling enough
always to excite a lively interest in her conversation.
On the whole, I think I did not say enough in her
favour in my former letter. The conversation fell
upon her works, and she- asked me how I. liked her
' Salvator Rosa.' ' I have not read it,' replied I,
' because I liked your fictions so much, that I did
not choose to read anything historical, from the pen
of the most imaginative of romance writers.' 'O,
that is only a romance,' said she, ' you may read it
without any qualm of conscience. Ah,' said she,
^ believe me, it is only ennui that sets my pen in
motion; our destiny in this world is such a
wretched one, that I try to forget it in writing.' "
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256 LADY liOEGAN^ H£B CAEEER,
In 1825, the Marquis of Anglesey declared in the
House of Lords, that the clamours of the Catholic
Association ought to be met, not by concession,
but my powder and ball ; and in a lurious speech
which did him little credit, he expressed his willing-
ness to charge the disaffected Irish at the head of
his hussars. To this speech he owed his nomination
to the Vicero}alty of Ireland, by the Administration
of 1828. But the Marquis had no sooner arrived in
Ireland, than he saw the necessity for Catholic Eman-
cipation, and for a letter which he addressed to
Primate Curtis, urging the Catholics not to abate one
doit in their agitation, the Marquis was recalled.
From the moment that his views assumed a liberal
complexion, the Tory press began to vilify him as
fluently as it had previously belauded him with
fulsome panegyric ; and not content with assailing
his public character, they professed to have discovered
that the Marchioness of Anglesey had been indis-
creetly conducted in private some thirty or forty
years before. In ^^ Blackwood^^ of the day, then a
rampant Toiy organ, it is mentioned in an article
headed ''Ireland in 1829,'' that Lady Morgan
" glittered and fluttered the gayest among the gay in
Lady Anglesey's Court, and was positively sentimen-
tal in declaiming against the prudery and hypocrisy
of those who refused to follow her example."
A more brilliant Court had not been held in Dublin
Castle since the Richmond regime. The accomplished
family of Lord Anglesey possessed ujany rivetting
attrncticns. The Marquis, himself a venerable relic
of "VTaterloo, was an object of no ordinary interest.
1 he grace and beauty of his three youngest daughters
excited general admiration. Lady Morgan wrote
the following impromptu upon them which is now
published for the first time.
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LITEBAEY AND PERSONAL. 257
THB GRACES IN IRELAND.
Of old Olympus' Court grown weary,
Bored with dowdy Gods and Goddesses,
Where all was grand, and dull and dreary,
Big wigs — ^brocades, and stiff-laced boddices.
It chanced, the Graces on a day
Resolved a trip to earth they'd try,
And just for fun — once in a way —
To cut their own eternal sky.
But where to wing their brilliant flight
They sat for half an i^ debating.
When on their doubts to throw a Ught,
Enter, the Aide-de-Camp in waiting.
Momus, the merriest God in heaven.
If not the sagest — said in short —
" Were I from old Olympus driven
rd choose, i'faith 1 the Irish Court.
** For tho' there's dignified urbanity.
Supreme bon-ton, and State in plenty :
Still, all so smacks of sweet humanity,
I'd dioose that Court — aye out of twenty."
'* But how present ourselves, dear Momus ?
A Court, is still a Court, we trow.
Were it as free as that of Comus
One must go label'd there you know."
** LabePdf I like that I shew your faces,
Of a reception there you're sure.
Besides, I know against the Graces
L'estrange will never shut the door."
" Still we must have a name— 'tis clear."
*• A name I /'// give you one at once.
Take that which Erin holds most dear.
Say you're* The Pagets ' — ^for the nonce."
Away they flew— the God had reason,
The Graces had a ^rarui succh,
Passed for the Pagets for a season,
Then back to heaven re-^inged their way.
S
y Google
258 LADY HOEOANj HBE OABEER^
The signal success which had attended the pub-
lication of "France/' induced Sir Charles and Lady
Morgan early in 1829, to pay a second visit to that
great country, and to write another book upon it.
The vast and exciting changes which had gathered
in the interval around the destiny of France, tempted
to action the graphic and speculative pen of Lady
Morgan.
This second book on an old theme appeared in
June, 1830, and at once became an authority. It
was dedicated to Lafayette, *^by his friend and servant,
the author/' The work chiefly comprised a picture
of the state of society in France — a condition in part
the result of Lafayette's own great example, and
national influence.
" Haying left Ireland," writes Lady Morgan, "in
the dark moment which preceded the bright rising
of her great political day, — after lingering there, till
hope delayed had made the heart sick, — we went
abroad in search of sensations of a more gracious
nature than those presented by the condition of so-
ciety at home. It matters not whether any pre-
conceived intentions of authorship influenced the
journey ; a second work on France can be alone
justified, by the novelty of its matter, or by the
merit of its execution. It may serve, however, as
an excuse, and an authentication of the attempt, that
I was called to the task by some of the most in-
fluential organs of public opinion, in that great
country. They relied upon my impartiality ; (for I
had proved it at the expense of proscription abroad,
and persecution at home) and, desiring only to be
represented as they are, they deemed even my
humble talents not wholly inadequate to an en-
terprise whose first requisite was the honesty that
telk the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the
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LITERA&Y AND PEBSONAL. 259
truth. This I have done to the full extent of my
own convictions, and to the utmost limit of the sphere
of my observation : I answer for no more/'
On Lady Morgan^s return to Dublin, she at once
resumed those brilliant, gay, and hospitable evening
receptions, which during her absence, had been so
sadly missed. On August 27, 1830, Moore, as men-
tioned in his Diary, dined at Lady Morgan's. Cur-
ran and Sheil, North and Edward Moore, with Lady
Clarke, and her daughters, were present. Lady
Morgan's fund of anecdote and droUery was, as usual,
inexhaustible. As a specimen, Moore jots down,
*^Lady Morgan's story of her telling Lady Cork,
on the morning of one of her assemblies, that she
had just seen Sir A. Carlisle, who had been directing
and preserving the little female dwarf, Crachami.
' Would it do for a Ldon for to-night ?' asked Lady
Cork. ' Why, I think hardly.' ' But surely it would
if it's in spirits.^ Their posting off to Sir A. Carlisle's,
and Lady C. asking the servant for the little child.
* There's no child here, ma'am.' ' But I mean the
child in the bottle.' 'Oh! this is not the place
where we bottle the children — that's at master's work-
shop.' In talking of Lrish pronunciation, Lord Gort
saying in court, when S9me one was called forth,
' He's in jeelJ A lady, in describing the situation
of her house, •' We've the bee in our rare.' "
Moore's Memoirs of Lord Byron were published
about this time. It mav be remembered that the
noble bard, in one of his letters, praised Ladjr Mor-
gan's "Italy." The following communication ad-
dressed to the Irish journalist Staunton, speaks for
itself:—
[Private.]
Dear Sir — ^The enclosed has just been sent to me
s 2
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260 LADT MOBGAN, HEE CAKEEB^
extracted from Byron^s Life by a dear friend of his.
I should be obliged by your giving it with the other
extracts in your paper, I know it requires no small
share of courage, moral and physical, to quote a
single line in favour of one marked out in this
wretched country by proscription, by that party to
whose cause her life, and all its best prospects have
been sacrificed, I beg, therefore, if you have any
apprehension on the subject that you will return the
enclosed. I am. Dear Sir, &c.,
Sydney Morgan.
The seal on this letter displays the Irish harp with
other national and pharaeteristic devices. The extract
to which she alludes may be found, ante, p. 212.
On the accession of the Grey Ministry to power,
with King William the Fourth, November 22nd,
1880, they conferred, among other minor but just
and judicious acts of patronage, a pension of £300
on Lady Morgan, professedly "in acknowledgment
of the services rendered by her to the world of letters,^'
but in reality as a just compensation for the sacrifices
she had made to liberal principles, as weU as for the
uninterrupted stream of slander which John Wilson
Croker and his Tory colleagues had long brought
to play upon her reputation. This act of Lord
Grey was not only a graceful one, but may be said
to have marked an epoch in the History of Letters.
No pension had been assigned to a female writer
until Lord Grey performed this kind office for Lady
Morgan, and Sir Eobert Peel had offered a similar
compliment to Mrs. SomerviUe, an authoress who,
we need hardly remind the reader, expounded La
Place to the English scientific student as Madame
de Chatelet had expounded Newton to the French.
The Grey Ministry did more. Sir Charles Morgan
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LITBKAEY AND PEESONAL, 261
ivas appointed one of the Commissioners of Irish
fisheries : and the reports on this subject, of which
several appeared from his pen, are remarkable for
their perspicuity and cleverness.
We are enabled to state on the most conclusive
authority that the annuity presented to Lady Morgan
was alike unasked and unexpected. The veteran au-
thoress received the boon gratefully. " Due honour/'
she said, '* to the men who took the initiative in direct-
ing the spiritual nature of woman to intellectuaJ pursuit
by the encouragement of public distinction— who
thus fostered those mental faculties by which the
humanity of either sex is best improved and for-
warded, and by which the greatest scheme of the
creation — motherhood — can alone be brought to its
ultimate perfection.'* And referring to the only in-
firmity of age which tormented her, she said, " Even
blindness is arrested in its dark course by the repose
permitted to eyes which have worked out an humble
but laborious vocation, ordained alike by nature and
necessity.''
Soon after the Eevolution in Belgium, Lady Mor-
gan made a tour through that country, and embodied
in a new novel the result of her observation, as Well
as many exciting incidents of the recent Revolution
in the Netherlands. This work was published under
the title of '^The Princess." Although the scene of
the story was laid far away from " the land of the
Pats and Potaytees," several racy Irish characters,
including Laurence Pegan, and Sir Ignatius
Dogherty, trod the stage of this highly dramatic
picture. Of this book, viewed morally, it may be
said that the aim is faithful to the great object of
Lady Morgan's life.
We once heard an eminent author inveigh against
a brother scribe who had trod in a similar walk of
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262 LADT MORGAN^ UER CAB.EBB,
literature. *' Hang the fellow/' he said, " years ago
I took my stand on that field into which he has now
intruded. I am sure I have toiled enough to make
it my own. Physicians never interfere with each
other^s patients^ and the same feeling of etiquette
ought to guide the conduct of authors. Why didn't
the fellow kill a Hessian for himself? What busi-
ness has he making love to my wife ?'' From this
feeling of jealousy, so usual among authors. Lady
Mprgan was strikingly exempt. Lady Morgan's
mantle may be said to have fallen to the gifted
Irish authoress, Mrs. S. C. Hall :* and it is a re-
markable fact that when this amiable lady first came
before the public, Sir Charles and Lady Morgan, who
then had the almost entire editorial control of a very
influential magazine, did their best to encourage and
applaud her. " They were ever ready to foster young
talent^' — writes Mrs. Hall, ^^ and we call to mind,
with gratitude, her generous criticism on the works
of an author, whom a less generous nature would
have noted as poaching on what she might have con-
sidered her own Irish preserve."
The late D. O. Maddyn considered Lever to be an
imitator of Lady Morgan. So far from feeling
any professional jealousy, Lady Morgan most cor-
dially fanned the flame of Lever's genius and ambi-
tion. In her last Preface to ' The Wild Irish Girl,'
she pronounces the "true Irish humour of Mr.
Lever to be as racy as it is genuine.^' Banim, Grif-
fin, Grofton Croker, Grattan, and Maxwell, also re-
ceived her cordial eulogy. " I would exchange any
one of my Paddies with Mr. Carleton for his Paddy-
go-Easy,'^ she writes, "and the exquisite literary
historical essays of Davis, who was intensely national,
* When Mrs. Hall read this passage she exclaimedi *^ No ! her
mantle must be her shroud.''
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LITEEAKY AND PERSONAL. 263
without ceasing to be universal, and combined all
that is brightest in true Irish genius. He had a
southern imagination, and northern judgment, but he
died before he came to his fame/' Of Miss Edge-
worth her great literary rival and contemporary.
Lady Morgau refers as the author of some *^ useful,
admirable, and most huraourous^^ works. There
never was a writer less free from literary jealousy
than Lady Morgan.
In every movement, tending to national ameliora-
tion. Lady- Morgan participated with almost mascu-
line spirit and activity. At the meetings held at
this period in Dublin, with a view to promote Irish
manufacture, we find her name constantly appearing.
Probably the best speeches delivered were those by
A. Carew O'Dwyer Esq., then in the fullness of his
brilliant parliamentary reputation. Lady Morgan,
however, was no indiscriminate supporter of Irish
liberal movements. She always cordially aided the
Catholic question; but she never believed in the
practicability of Repeal. Referring to the condition
of her humbler fellow-countrymen early in the pre-
sent century, and sarcastically alluding to certain
minor demagogues of a later period, who greatly
exaggerated O'Connell^s system of political agitation,
she said : " their keen sense of suffering was not
then sharpened by the rhetoric of personal vindic-
tiveness, nor their strong energies wasted on the
pursuit of an unattainable object/'
Lady Morgau, during the earlier career of the
'^ Athenseum/' contributed occasionally to its co-
lumns. In 1838 appeared a short series of papers
from her pen, entitled ^^ Historic Sites.'' The light
poetical pieces— "Fun and Philosophy"— in the
"Athenaeum" of the previous year were furnished by
Lady Clarke.
' Digitized by LjOOQIC
264 LADY MOBGAN, HER CAEEEE,
In 1839 Lady Morgan changed her home from
Kildare Street, Dublin, to William Street, Hyde
Park, London ; but this change in no , degree
changed the veteran authoresses habits. Here, as
in Ireland, her evening conversazioni continued
uninterrupted. The brightest and newest literary
talent, with the soundest liberal opinion, fteurished
around her throne. " There is many a wit,'' says
Charles Mackay, ^^ statesman, scholar, and man of
science, who would- as soon omit to answer the
muster call of one of Lady Morgan's pleasant re-
unions, as in the good old days of French society,
Voltaires, and La Rochefoucaults would have thought
. of deserting the melle of the Hotel de Eambouillet
or the Carnevalet/' Lady Morgan's panegyrist
might have added, '^ legal magnate" to his sketch of
the class of company who so long frequented her
gay boudoir, Lord Campbell being an invariable
guest.
For leaving Ireland after she had received a pension
for her patriotism. Lady Morgan was subjected to
many a sarcastic remark. But the same taunt might '
as justly be levelled at Curran. Lady Morgan de-
fended herself by saying, that the political views she
entertained would in Dublin have confined her to one
phase of society, while in London she could choose
from all. In ceasing to reside in Ireland, however,
she did not cease to be an Irishwoman in heart and
soul. Her old friends; and lier new ones, together
with numbers of her younger countrymen who, armed
with letters of introduction, perpetually made descents
on that cheerful little boudoir in William Street,
weriB always received with a hearty cead mille failthe.
Touching the well-used and thread-bare taunt of
Absenteeism against Lady Morgan, she wittily ob-
served in August, 1846, that her property in Ireland
Digitized by VjOOQIC
LITEEABT Ain> PEBSONAL. 265
was ''personal^' not "real/' and that the tenant-fann
of a drawing-room balcony, worked for the raising
annual crops of mignonette for home-consumption^
was the only *^ territorial possession'^ in Ireland she
ever enjoyed. \^ Her removal from that land of un-
easy sensations to which she owes her birth, was in
deference to a duty sanctified by God and man, and
paramount to all others— it was at the desire of one^
who had left his own great and happy country for
the adoption of hers, and for the sake of that cause
to which for more than a. quarter of a century he de-
voted his time, hi§ fortune, his talents, and his prime
of life ; it was after the battle of Catholic Emancipa-
tion had been "fought and won/' and the great
league formed for its consummation was broken up,
and dispersed, that he became desirous to return *to
die^ home at last,*' (alas !) and where he placed his
solitary survivor, she hopes to pass the scanty frag-
ment of life still reserved to her, without reproach, as
without the consciousness of deserving it/'
y Google
266 LAOT UOBJBJlS, hbe caregb.
CHAPTER VIII.
Publication of "Dramatic Scenes" and "Woman and her
Master.*' — "The Book without a Name" — Lady Morgan in
Heidelberg and Baden Baden. — Letters from Sir C. and Lady
Morgan. — Unpublished Lines by Horace Smith. — Death of Sir
C. Morgan. — How to rear Young Ladies. —Table talk of Lady
Morgan. — Death of Lady Clarke. — Eepublication of Lady Mor-
gan's early works. — She again befriends the Poor. — Cardinal
Wiseman. — ^The Battle of the Chairs. — Salvator Rosa. — Lady
Morgan lends out her «ervices as Hostess. — Popularity of her
Boudoir. — She makes her Will.— Impromptu lines by Lady
Morgan. — Her address to "the Athenaeum." — More Table
Talk. — Prostrated by Bronchitis. — Publication of "Passages
from my Autobiography." — Poetical Address to Lady Morgan's
Respirator. — Death and Funeral of Lady Morgan. — Westma- ^
cott's Monument to her memory. — The Great Moral of Her
Life.
Ireland, as Lady Morgan tells us, was her earliest
inspiration and her theme, and it would seem that
from the moment she left its shores, her cacoethes
scribendi flagged. Our authoress's next performance
was a work entitled *' Dramatic Scenes from Eeal
Life," which Chambers^ Cyclopaedia of English Litera-
ture pronounces " very poor in matter, and affected
in style." In 1840, however. Lady Morgan brought
her long train of creative literary efforts to a sin-
gularly beautiful and effiective close by the publication
of "Woman and her Master." This work. had been
almost entirely written in Ireland. Lady Morgan's
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UTEBABT AND PBESONAL. 267
essentially masculine thought and sense^ had long
evoked the prejudices of certain afPected critics who
would have preferred a more uniformly feminine
style, and selection of subject : but this grand and
Shilosophical history of Woman, in which Lady
[organ came forward as the champion and historian
of her sex, effectually silenced further objection.
Indeed this book effected, if possible, a strong
reactionary feeling among the ladies. Some were
disposed to resent the implied indignity of the title,
notwithstanding that the same definition of woman-
kind had been sanctioned by Blackstone, who gravely
speaks in his Commentaries of *' The Baron and His
Woman.^^
In " Woman and her Master,^' Lady Morgan has
carefully investigated one of the most important
branches of social science— the position which woman
should occupy in the order and progress of society.
Following up the labours of Bentham, Godwin, and
Condorcet, Lady Morgan sought, in the records of
the past, guidance for the future. "She subjected
the pages of History to a vigorous moral analysis 5
testhig their facts with the skill of a critic, and
deducing results with the wisdom of a philosopher.^'
It is exceedingly probable Lady Morgan would have
continued to a later era this work, which is in fact a
History of Woman down to the fall of the Eoman
Empire, had not almost an utter deprivation of sight
soon after obliged the authoress to relinquish her
labours. Critically viewed, this book can only be
regarded as a splendid fragment. Since the fall of
the £oman Empire the condition of woman, by the
progress of Christianity, and the Institution of
Chivalry, has undergone greater change than in the
previous four thousand years ; and it is impossible
not to experience bitter regret that circumstances did
Digitized byLjOOQlC
263 ULDT MOBQAN^ HEE CAREER^
not permit Lady Morgan to work out her grand
project to its full extent.
The work opens ' with an eloquent and an arga-
mentative sketch of the progress of civilization, and
the gradual supremacy of mind over brute force.
This, Lady Morgan declared, was far from being
complete, especially in the respective conditions and
relations of the sexes ; for, if the social system is still
more imperfect as it relates to the '^master," it
remains much worse with his '^ slave,'^ woman being
" still a thing of sufferance, and not of rights,'^ as in
the ignorant infancy of early aggregation when the
law of the strongest was the only law act^d on.
''Even now,^' she asks, " when supremacy has been
transferred from muscle to mind, has that most
subtle spirit — that being of most mobile fibre — that
most sensitive and apprehensive organization — had
she, whom God placed to be a mate and a help to
man, at the head of his creation, the foundress of
nations, the embellisher of races, has she alone been
left behind, at the very starting-post of civilisation,
while around her all progresses and improves ? And
is man still ' the Master ;' and does he, by a mis-
directed self-love, still perpetuate her ignorance and
her dependance, when her emancipation and improve-
ment are most wanting, as the crowning element of
his own happiness ?
•' If, in the first era of society, woman was the
victim of man's physical superiority, she is still, in
the last, the subject of laws, in the enactment of which
she has had no voice— amenable to the penalties of a
code, from which she derives but little protection.
While man, in his first crude attempts at jurispru-
dence, has surrounded the sex with restraints and
disabilities, he has left its natural rights unguarded,
and its liberty unacknowledged. Merging the very
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UTEIULEY AND PEBSOXAL.
existence of woman in his own, he has allowed her
no separate interest, assigned her no independent
possessions; 'for/ says the law— the law of man—
^ the hasband is the head of the wife, and all that she
has belongs to him/ Even the fruit of her own
labour is torn from her, unless she is protected by
the solitary blessedness of a derided but innocent
celibacy."
The eloquent champion of woman, not content
with asserting the moral and intellectual equality of
the sexes, absolutely insisted upon female superiority,
and among other evidence cited the great case of
Adam and Eve as a proof of their social equality, and
the mental pre-eminence of the first Mother, whose
very name signifies in the Hebrew, Uife^ while the
translation of Adam is— Berf Earth I
In dismissing the subject of " Woman and her
Master," we may add, as a postscriptum, that the
*' Quarterly Review" at last offered to Lady Morgan
some honourable atonement by praising her new work
with a cordial good will. But had not the editorial
control of the "Review" been in the hands of
Mr. Lockhart, and not Mr. Croker, at this period,
another savage onslaught would doubtless have been
made upon her. By turning to VolUme xlvi,
p. 375, it may be perceived that ''Woman and her
Master" is pronounced to be "a very clever and
amusing work " There can be no doubt, that
although not avowed. Sir Charles ^organ contri-
buted to this voluminous disquisition much of his
metaphysical and philosophical lore.
The last joint production of this devoted pair was
"The Book without a Name/' but it cannot be
well regarded as embodying much new mental effort,
being exclusively composed of final gleanings from
the uortfolios of the writers, and stray papers which
Digitized by V^OOQ IC
270 LADTMOBOAN^ HER CABEER,
had previously appeared in the magazines. An ex-
cellent copperplate portrait of Sir C. Morgan was
prefixed to this work.
In the autumn of 1841, Sir Charles and Lady-
Morgan made their last continental tour. A long,
and hitherto unpublished letter addressed to one of
Lady Morgan^s nieces, affords a faithful record of
their wanderings on this occasion. The writing is
extremely illegible, and but too plainly bears evidence
of the author's rapidly failing sight. The italics in
the following letter are according to the original.
Lady Morgan never lost an absurd girlish habit of
perpetually underHuing words already sufSciently
expressive, and which stand in need of no especial
emphasis. Two graphic pictures of the Couversa-
tion-Haus, and La Source at Saden^ surmount Lady
Morgan's letter.
<* Baden Badea, August 22iidr 1841.
'^ Well here we are, and this ^ here? is a sort of
paradise, half way between heaven and earth, a sort
of celestial pendant to purgatory, which lies 'tother
way. We left poor dear Kissingen with regret and
pleasant souvenirs on Monday 16th at six in the
morning, after such a levee the day before, with my
general health much improved, but with the remains
of my unlucky cold still hanging about me. We
proceeded per * hhn kutchee^ (job coach) to the
ancient city of Wurtzburg where we got dinner
(three o'clock). Oh, such a noble still life piece of
antiquity ! a monument of the grandeur of the sove-
xeign Bishops of Germany, in their palmy state. The
corners of the streets are guarded by gigantic statues
of saints and bishops, and a saint or a Madonna
holds watch and ward over the fine old sculptured
portals of its houses ! The palace of the former
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LITERABT AND FEBSONAL. 271
Prince Bishop, surpasses anything I ever saw in
the same genre. It contains three hundred and
forty-six rooms, we went through ninety-two ! The
state rooms vast and splendid, and clean and bright,
as if inhabited yesterday — the walls sculptured,
marble or mirrors covered tvith gold net-work, or
velvet draped with gold or the finest old tapestry, the
sofas and beds of the same precious materia], many
of the chairs and tables of massive silver, and then
the cabinets and candelebra, and the portraits of the
brave old — — * for three centuries back, and all
this silent, solemn, empty ! occupied only by the
custode who shewed it to us, and by the sentinels
who paced along its magnificent halls and galleries ;
the fatigue almost killed me. Wurtzburg 7iow be-
longs to the King of Bavaria since the treaty of
Luneville, but he never resides there ! From Wurtz-
burg and Heidelberg, we made a slow up hill journey
of two days ; our sleeping post would take a volume
to describe — our coachman (we took our caleche aD
the way) could speak nothing but German, neither
could any one in the mountain inn, which we did
not reach till long after dark ; such a landlady, so
jolly and tipsy a frau, and boors drinking a Postage
in the adjoining room, and singing glees in part and
admirably — the enormous hostess came and sat with
us, putting her elbows on the table, in great de-
light with us, while D and Anne lighted a fire
and made some of our own London chocolate, which
saved my life, for each of us slept in a box with a
feather bed over us, and were off before daylight for
the prettiest village and the nicest inn and breakfast
to be had in the Duchy of Baden— no words can
give you an idea of the beauty, fertility or wanton
* Word omitted.— £o.
Digitized byLjOOQlC
272 LADT MORGAN^ HEB CABEEB,
plenty of the scenery through which we passed. The
background, vineyards, orchards, com fields, every
ipecies of vegetables of the finest description, and
images of pastoral prosperity and loveliness ; every-
where the women doing all the most laborious work,
but all prospering. The valley of the Necker sur-
passes in beauty anything I ever saw in Italy, and to
the situation of Heidelberg and its ruined castle,
nothing I ever read, or saw in pictures did the
least justice. We arrived to dine there on Wednes-
day, and stayed Thursday to visit its wondrous castle,
and to rest my poor weary little frame ; and on Friday
started after breakfast at six in the morning, for this
enchanted place, eighteen hours journey, for we did
not get here till past ten, after all, but losing our
way and risking being benighted amidst woods and
heath. At hdiipast six that evening,* Morgan and I
were seated on an old stump of a tree in front of the
post house on the cross roads to Eadstadt, Strasbourg
and Baden, while the horses fed and the servants
were devouring apples, plums, and walnuts which
they gathered along the road, for in our Journey of
eight days, the whole way was studded with teeming
fruit trees. We set up here at the Hotel d^Angle-
terre, and dined yesterday at its sumptuous table-
d^hote, such a great change from poor dear little Kis-
singen— such a multitude of fine men! all in such
full dress. Princes, Counts, Barons, (and / suppose
blacklegs) and oh ! such a variety of beards of all
cuts and colours, such pictures ! We found Miss
Mars (?) (the bride) and her very nice husband Mr.
E , seated opposite to us, and there we are all
in the frontispiece taking cofl*ee, while the band is
* " Pray teU us what you were all about at that hour and even-
iog, as we were aU talking of you, and wishing to know.
Digitized byLjOOQlC
UTBRARY AND PERSONAL. 273
plajring, and the room* lighting ttp for a bal pare
where the Jenkins^ want us to go with them, here
we found them— bj the by, I hear Eugenie C
has made a great hit ! Lord C , a charming
elderly gentleman so rich ! I must stop as my heart
beats. -S. M/'
The remainder of the sheet is in the autograph of
Sir Charles Morgan :
'^ Well dear alls, here we are post-tot naufragia —
after all our adventures of which I suppose, Sydney
has given you an account. I wish to heavens we
had you all with us ^ baby^ S and all. You
cannot conceive the beauty of this place ; we have got
into a little suite of apartments, with a back of wood,
and a stream whose ^murmurs invite one to fish,
close under our windows; we literally do not see our
house, yet we are in the heart of the town, with the
promenade and assembly-house within half a stone's
throw, and our table-d'hote nearer ! We are in fact
in the ' English garden,' which is a regular English
Park, but more dressed, ornamented, and varied
than any I know, what, too, is better still, out of
ear shot of all Tory -ipolitics ; I have seen, however,
'the Sun/ with the account of. Lord Morpeth's
intended dinner, and regret more than I can say,
not being one amongst them. Pray my dear S
do whatever is right for me, subscribe, if need be,
and make some communication of my desire to have
been present. Had I been in England, 1 would
have gone to DubHn express. Good God! that
Ireland is to be removed from the care of such a
man to be subjugated to the lash of Stanley. It
cannot, however, last. The heavens themselves war
against the Tories 1 but through what a sea of misery
T
Digitized byLjOOQlC
274 LADT HOBGAKj HEB OA&B£B^
must England navigate^ to arriye at anything like
government ! we can hardly hope to get a letter from
you here, but pray write if possible by return of
post, alid direct to us aux soins de Mr. B
jBad Ems, Nassau. He will keep your letter till we
meet, thus saving at least four days post ; as far as I
can judge by the papers, the Tories are by no means
satisfied with their prospects, and I do not wonder
at it. What are the dissenting parsons to do?
will they not help forward the com question fa-
mously P There is nothing like fanaticism to beat
down fanaticism. Truth has no such chance. I
was glad to see Clarke's name at the meeting : I
must, however, end my share of this letter, 1 give
my love to all in George's Street, and accept it,
yourself with my avuncular benediction for the
young giant. Ever affectionately yours,
" 0. MOBGAN.''
Lady Morgan adds in a postscript :
"The B are still at Ems. As we are going
down the Ehine this day fortnight, we mean to stop
a day with them, and I trust, find a letter from you,
but say nothmg against nobody. She never fails to
enquire about your confinement and baby ! nor to
send her love and felicitations which I always
forget to tell f ou.
" I will write to dear mamma soon, I hope she is
off for the Jones, and that she will be with us in Sep-
tember. Tou never saw such a scene as when I wrote
my name in the LAbrairie Publique yesterday — God
bless you all !
" S. MOBGAN.''
Sir Charles and Lady Morgan returned from their
pleasant tour with renewed vigour of mind and body.
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LITERAB.T AND PERSONAL. 275
Their evening receptions were at once resumed with
increased sparkle and success. Their guests in-
cluded nearly every person of hereditary or personal
distinction. His Imperial Majesty, the present
Emperor of the French was a constant visitor.
'^ His mind/' said Lady Morgan in conversation
with a friend, " seemed to be always laden heavily,
and working strongly. He would fall into frequent
reveries, and I remarked that whenever a knock
came to the door he always started strangely/'
Until prostrated by the decline of his mental and
bodily strength, Horace Smith continued to be a
frequent and delighted guest of Lady Morgan's.
The following characteristic epistle from Mr. Smith
to her ladyship has been placed at our disposal. It
is interesting to trace in its lines the resurrectional
flashes of that genius which thirty years before, sur-
prised the public in " The Rejected Addresses." The
poejm is now published for the first time.
To Ladt Morgan.
dear Lady Morgan, this pain in the organ
Of sound, that the doctors call Larynx,
Is a terrible baulk to my walk and my talk,
"While my pen its extremity ne'er inks.
All this I don't mind, but one pang larks behind,
Kay, it sticks in my gizzard and kidney,
Tho' I know it's not sage, Fm transported with rage,
'Cause I can't be transported to Sydney /
When my daughters come back from your dwellings alack I
What lots of facetiae they can tell us 1
While I, within clutch of a feast I can't touch.
Am condemned to the tortures of Tantalus.
When last you came here, you had illness scTere,
Now / must call in the physician ;
We would meet, but the more we're disposed (what a bore !)
The greater's our indisposition.
T 2
Digitized byLjOOQlC
276 LADY MORGAN, HER CAREER,
O Morgans and Fate ! do not bother my pate
"With this Fata Morf(ana probations,
If ye can't make me well, rob Sir Charles of his spell,
And his spouse of her rare fascinations.
Horatio Smith.
{^grotus).
On August 28th, 1843, Sir Charles Morgan was
summoned suddenly to Eternity. To the latest
hour of his life he had continued his liberal and
philanthropic labours by voice and pen. On the day
of his funeral the '*New Monthly Magazine" for
September was published; and with many a sigh,
and a moistened eye, people recognised in its pages
an earnest, able, and hearty contribution from Sir
Charles Morgan's pen, attesting the indomitable per-
severance with which, to the last gasp of his existence,
he had toiled in a generous cause. By his family
and private friends. Sir Charles was beloved with an
affection which time may mellow, but can never
obliterate. Several earnest tributes to his worth
appeared in the journals of the day. One in the
" Examiner," probably from the pen of Fonblanque,
we transcribe : '^ a writer of great ability, an honest
politician, an amiable and most enlightened man,
he has claims to be long regretted by a wide circle
of every class of opinion. While his mind kept
equal pace with the progress of liberal views, Ms
tastes were formed and resolutely fixed in what we
call the best old school. He \?as never at a loss for
the witty or the wise passage from Eabelais or
Bayle. We turn to his last magazine paper—
published as we write this— and find it closed with a
quotation from the latter writer : ' Ne croyez pas que
je me vante de n'avoir rien dit que de vrai : je ne
garantie que mon intention, et non pas mon ignorance.'
And truly if anything but the exactest truth ever
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LITERARY AND PERSONAL. 277
fell from himself, it was ignorance, and not intention
that betrayed him. The one most rare with him—
the other most certain, reliable and sound.''
Sir Charles Morgan's death was quite unexpected,
even by the eminent physicians, Latham and Cham-
bers, who had been in professional attendance on
him. He was, to all appearances, recovering from
an attack of fever, when apoplexy suddenly occurred.
This domestic bereavement proved a severe blow to
Lady Morgan. But the condolences and attentions
of her compatriots — young and old — served in some
degree to alleviate it. Many were the expressions
of homage tendered to her who had lived to be a
classic. "The children and children's children/' she
said, *' of my partial readers and earliest friends, are
now extending the sphere of my social existence
which death has narrowed, solacing by their sym-
pathy the unceasing consciousness of losses which
can never be repaired; and cheering with their
bright looks of kindness that dreary hearth from
which all the deeper affections, and profounder as-
sociations •are now for ever estranged." It must
have been consolatory to Lady Morgan to reflect
that it was owing to a perfect congeniality of dis-
position and taste on her part, and a true recipro-
cation of all attentions and endearments that Sir
Charles always enjoyed the happiest of homes.
To the generality of readers it is hardly necessary
to say that Sir Charles had no children by Lady
Morgan. Had she been a mother she would have
proved a fond and a wise one. Her principles for
the education of youth, were sound. In a tSie-a-iSte
conversation with Mrs. Hall, on the subject of some
young ladies who had been suddenly bereft of for-
tune. Lady Morgan said, with an emphatic wave of
her dear old green fan, " They do everything that
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278 LAOT MORGAN^ HEE CAREER^
is fashionable — imperfectly; their singing, and draw-
ing, and dancing, and languages amount to nothing.
Thej were educated to marry, and had there been
time they might have gone off with, and hereafter
from, husbands. They cannot earn their ovrn salt;
they do not even know how to dress themselves. I
desire to give every girl, no matter her rank, a trade
— a profession if the word pleases you better ; culti-
vate what is necessary in the position she is born to ;
cultivate all things in moderation, but one thing to
perfection, no matter what it is, for which she has
a talent— drawing, music, embroidery, housekeeping
even ; give her a staff to lay hold of, let her feel
^ this will carry me through life without dependence.'
I was independent at fourteen, and never went in
debt.^'
After such a sound bit of teaching, she would, if
a superfine lady was announced, tack round to her
small vanities, ply her fan after a new fashion, and
exclaim with such droll pretty affectation, "Why
were not you here last night ? 1 had two Dukes, the
beautiful Mrs. P (never mind, the ^scandal is
nearly worn out) the young countess who is so like
the lady in Comus — the Indian Prince, who dresses
the corner of a room so superbly, and is everything
we could desire except fragrant. I am a liberal, but
really since the Eeform Bill, have ceased to count
M.Ps. as gentlemen, still they are M.P^s., I had
seven — certainly of the best men — en route to
the Division. I told you two dukes and one duchess;
but the delight was a new and handsome American,
a member of Congress— I dare say he exchanged his
Bible for a Peerage, the moment he landed at Liver-
pool! You should have seen his ecstacy when
presented to a duchess, and how he luxuriated be-
neath the shadow of the strawberry leaves,^
.>>
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LTTEBABY AND FERSOKAL. 279
On April 24th, 1845, Lady Morgan was deprived
by death of her only sister. Lady Clarke. To this
amiable and accomplished woman she had long been
ardently attached by a double link of domestic love.
As the senior of Olivia Clarke by ten years. Lady
Morgan regarded her from infancy with feelings of
mingled maternal fondness and sisterly affection.
Little Olivia was but two years old when Mrs. Owen-
son died; and the elder sister was called upon to
take a mother's place at an age when the joyous
office of a playmate would have sat far more naturally
upon her. With what sad feelings Lady Morgan
heard of her sister's death may be gathered, when
we know that their love grew with their years, and
that, so far back as 1801 it had reached a point of
intense warmth. In Sydney Owenson's first book
—the poems elsewhere noticed— .we find an address
to Olivia which records conclusive evidence on the
subject. The authoress, having mentioned the in-
teresting fact that she had been from childhood
writing, and ere she "well could write, inditing,''
exclaims :
** What ! and no lines to thee addrest,
Thou longest known, and loved the best,
Not one to thee :
For whom IVe oft wept, sighed, and smil'd
My sister, mother, friend and child.
Thou all to me t
Alas ! I ne'er could learn the art
To write from head and not from heart.
* * * *
Associate of my infant plays.
Companion of my happiest days.
With whom I ran youth's frolic maze :
With whom I sung
My first untutored artless lay.
And on whose sportive accents gay,
I fondly hung !
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280 LADT M0EGAN, HEB CABEEB^
Sweet fnend, too, of my riper years,
Who kindly shares my hopes, my fears,
My joys, my sorrows, smiles, and tears.
My nights — ray days :
With whom I share one heart, one mind,
My more than ]an, and more than kind
How sing thy praise ?
Still those gay visions fancy hronght,
Were with thy loved idea fraught.
With you to Uve I fondly thought
With you to die :
Nor e'en vrith life to part with you,
For in my heavens Utopia too,
I placed you high V*
Charles WentworthDilke in recording Lady darkens
death, said : " No person was better fitted to grace
and adorn society; light-hearted, brilliant, full to
overflowing with animal spirits she was sure to be
welcomed there, yet the wife and the mother was
content to shine in a narrower sphere, to do tbe
drudging duties of life, and to gladden with her
good spirits her own family and fireside. In a sen-
tence, she was a high-spirited and true-hearted
woman. The last time that we had the pleasure
to be in her company, we formed part of a circle
whom she entertained with snatches of old Irish
songs, and others, more familiar, out of the 'Beggar's
Opera/ Little did we then think that one so
cheerful, and so full of life was suffering, as we
now know, from a disease which was so soon to
terminate fatally." Lady Clarke had reached the
age of sixty. She is interred at Irishtown, near
Dublin, in the same grave with Robert Owenson.
Lady Morgan bore up against her domestic be-
reavements with that vigorous philosophy which
through life had been a speciality with her. If a
circumstance occurred to annoy her, she endeavoured
y Google
LITBRABY AI^D PEKSOHAL. 281
to forget it in the excitement of frolic. From this
period until an evening or 'two before her death,
she entertained, at reception or ball, an uninterrypted
succession of distinguished and pleasant guests. On
November 28th, 1846 she writes: ^'My dear Mr.
C— ' — I am in despair. If it is possible, pray come
and diue with me at six o'clock. You will make a
fourth with three dancers. One of her Majest/s
Maids of Honour, and Lady Laura ToUmasche/' &c.
"Do, darling/' she would sometimes say to Mr.
Hepworth Dixon, " do, darling, come and dine with
me to-day, and youshall have a countess all to yourself.''
Mr. Jeatferson, in his Memoirs of the Novelists,
says : " Her house is frequented by the most distin-
guished men of letters and leading personages in the
world of fashion, and it is rare for a stranger of any
note to visit our shores and quit them without
having sought an introduction to the author of
* Woman and her Master.' "
In 1846, Mr. Colburn made a liberal offer to
, Lady Morgan for liberty to republish her early works
in a cheap and popular form. Referring to this
circumstance, the authoress said, " I have lived long
enough to be once more the proprietor of some of my
earliest productions, and thus as it were to become my
own posterity— the only posterity, haply, I may ever
reach."
To the new edition of ''The Wild Irish Girl,"
Lady Morgan prefixed some new and interesting
introductory remarks.
'^ A first book, like a first love, is generally a thing
to be alittle ashamed of, a juvenile indiscretion, (more
pleasant in its passage than in its retrospect) : and in
the attempt of the Editor of the present edition of ^ The
Wild Irish Girl' to correct its incorrigible errors of
style, the authpr of ' Woman and her Master' has often
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282 LADY MOBGAN^ HEE CA£E£B|
the same doubt of personal identity, which the ill-
used mistress of the wicked " little dog Stout/' ex-
pressed in the well-known stanza of,
** ' Oh, quotb the little woman, sure this be none of 1/
" The doubt of identity, however, applies only to the
overcharged style, and exaggerated and very youthful
opinions, scattered over the work of one who loved
Ireland not always ' wisely,' and sometimes, perhaps,
'too well:' for Ireland, like a fair, frail woman,
more flattered than served, has suffered as much
from the homage of her admirers as from the
calumnies of her foes.
" Still the spirit and the sympathy, and above all
the earnestness of purpose and desire to serve, which
urged this first instalment of a very small capital of
talent, paid into the account of her country's wrongs,
remain undiminished."
Lady Morgan had devoted a considerable portion of
leisure, during this year to the task of revising
her " Wild Irish Girl," with a view to republication •
in one volume. Parental fondness cannot be said to
have blinded her to its defects, for she considered
and avowed that the book contained many " incor-
rigible" errors of style. But Lady Morgan did less
than justice to her '* Wild Irish Girl." In a note to
a very beautiful local description she writes, " ' young
ladies' castles ^ always ^OM;n,' — the cross things."
Byron, however, has stamped the phrase with the
high authority of his sanction. One cannot forget
the stately stanza commencing
'* The castled crag of Drachenfels
Frowns o'er the wide and winding Rhine."
During the autumn of 1850, we find Lady Morgan
rusticating at Shirenewton, Rectory near Chepstow,
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LITEEAET AND PERSONAL. 28S
Monmouthshire, the residence of her niece^s husband
the llev. Inwood Jones. 'As Lady Morgan was
never indifferent to the claims and wants of her
toiling and suffering fellow-creatures, she, observing
that they laboured under great local difficulty in
procuring water during that sultry season, originated
a plan for the erection of a public fountain, and
headed the subscription list by a generous draught
from her own purse. The good project succeeded,
and a most convenient fountain now stands in the
village bearing a record of her benevolence. There
can be little doubt that had any other person pro-
posed the plan it would have been received with
apathy, and soon have fallen into abeyance. To
Lady Morgan's tact, the present health, and comfort
of the people of Shirenewton, is entirely owing.
A copy of her appeal to the wealthier inhabitants is
before us.
" Of all the wants/' she writes " incidental to man-
kind there is none more pressing than the want of water
— of pure, good, wholesome water— food cannot
be prepared without it, and through the medium of
food it becomes part of our blood, and acts upon our
bodies. Corrupt and bad water is a slow poison-
it is full of living matter, which breeds disease, and
is peculiarly hurtful to women and children, who, it
is grievous to say, are generally the only water
drinkers in a family.
" Water is more especially needful for aU the pur-
poses of cleanliness, on which health, comfort, order,
and propriety depend ; a free use of it is the best
preventative against vermin, and to the neglect of
its use, fever, cholera and scrofula are owing. In
ancient times, plague and pestilence were the result
of dirt and slovenliness, arising out of want of
water, where springs were few and distant. The
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284f LADY MORGAN^ HER CAREER^
chief impediments to obtaining water by the poor
and the industrious are the remoteness of natural
springs, and the want of means for procuring rain
water. The men of country villages are engaged in
daily labour for the support of their families— the
women who are able to work, are occupied in
earning something abroad, if they can, or attending
to their infants or families, if at home— the labour,
therefore, of drawing water from distant wells, falls
upon either the very young or the very old, and
almost always upon the females.
" A little girl despatched for water with a heavy
earthen pitcher of some gallons may often be seen
toiling up our hills and over a rough road, some-
times poising her pitcher on her head — sometimes
resting it on her hip, distorted out of its socket to
support the weight so much beyond her strength,
and thus, most probably, laying the foundation of
two dreadful diseases, decrepitude and water on the
brain. Another equally piteous sight is the aged
woman with her two heavy cans of water, balancing
each other> as she toils along, frequently obliged to
stop by the way, in her heavy exhaustion — and tvhen
these small quantities of the great element of life
and health have been obtained for general use, how
inadequate are they for the daily purposes of life!
to cleanse the human body, to wash the clothes and
household furniture, and, last of all, and most
essential, to dress the food, and afford drink to the
thirsty and exhausted — the springs from which they
are brought, though pure in themselves, are too often
polluted by all sorts of filthy deposits, animal and
vegetable, and the father of the family is thereby
prevented, perhaps after a long da/s work, from
quenching his thirst and refreshing his strength by
the most njitural, but now uninviting element, and
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LITBEAET AND PEKSONAL. 285
turns to the more exciting tefreshment supplied at
the neiglibouring ale-house, at a price thkt would
procure his family a comfortable mm— and thus he
acquires habits of inebriety, unfitting him for the
social duties of life, and rendering him too often
careless of his own and reckless of the lives of
others.
*'To forward a moral reformation as well as provide
for a natural want — It is proposed :
" To turn a spring, which now flows unprofitably
under the soil we tread on, to the account of health,
cleanliness, and utility— to erect an iron pump in
the centre of the village of Shirenewton— and to
defray the expense by a general subscription of all
the householders in the immediate neighbourhood of
the spot, it being distinctly understood that any, who
decline to subscribe to so necessary a work, will not
be entitled to the benefit of it/'
It gratified Lady Morgan to find that she was not
altogether forgotten by her own country. Visits,
presents, and letters from Ireland, were always re-
ceived by her with a hearty cead tnille afailthe. On
her return to London, she found a presentation copy
of the "Macaria Excidium,'' published by the
Celtic Society, and immensely enriched by the edi-
torial labours of John Cornelius CyCallaghan. One
of the few copies at his disposal, he presented to
Lady Morgan, who, on November 13th, 1850, thus
acknowledged it, although her sight was now almost
utterly gone. "Lady Morgan bags to return Mr.
CCallaghan her best thanks for the very interesting
work he has so ably edited. Her absence from
London for the last four months prevented her mak-
ing an earlier acknowledgment. She is sure she will
derive much pleasure and instruction from a work so
peculiarly adapted to her own taste, as she also
y Google
286 LADT MORGAN^ HER CAREER,
fancies herself Uhe laste taste in life/ of an Irish
antiquarian/'
Notwithstanding the skill and attention of the
best ophthalmists of London, Lady Morgan's sight
far from improved, and for a considerable time she did
not pnt pen to paper; at last, a flash of the old
genius attracted public attention. After long repose
Lady Morgan donned her glittering armour, and
entered the lists of controversy with no less a per-
sonage than Cardinal Wiseman. The matter is
curious not only in a literary point of view, but as
shewing the unquenched spirit, and undiminished
powers of argument of the all but blind octo-
genarian. This being the last act of Lady Morgan's
fiterary life, we shall examine, at some length, the
various points of the controversy.
In her great work on Italy, Lady Morgan pro-
fessed to describe, among other relics, the Chair of
St. Peter at Rome. Most people know that it has
remained for a considerable period concealed within a
shrine. Lady Morgan reported that the '' sacrilegious
curiosity" of the French, removed its superb casket,
and having explored the relic, traced upon its moul-
dering surface an Arabic inscription declaring that
" there is but one God, and Mahomet is his Prophet."
Lady Morgan advanced it as her opinion, that this
chair had been among the spoils of the Crusades
ofl^ered to the Church, " at a time when a taste for
antiquarian lore, and the deciphering of inscriptions
were not yet in»fashion. The story," she added,
'^ has been since hushed up, the chair replaced, and
none but the unhallowed remember the fact, and
none but the audacious repeat it.^'
Cardinal Wiseman, during his residence at Home,
heard of this startling charge, and at once took its
confutation in hand. As a zealous Catholic eccle-
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LTTBEART AKD PEB80NAL. 287
siastic^ be felt naturally indignant that the relic so
long venerated in the Vatican BasiUc, as St. Peter'a
Chair, should be pronounced to be a mere Moham-
medan monument, and that the clergy having dis-
covered this, should have continued to deceive the
people, by directing their respect towards an object
which they knew to be not only spurious, but abso*
lutely bearing an inscription denying the truth of
Christianity. Cardinal Wiseman declared that .he
could easily produce the attestation of those who
had been in the service of St. Peter's Church, since a
period antecedent to the French Bevolution, to the
fact that the seals of the relic had never been
violated ; but he f orebore to do so, as it might be
said that the men who could deceive the public in
the impious manner alleged, would have little scruple
in giving any testimony necessary to countenance the
cheat. Cardinal Wiseman argued, therefore, on other
grounds. He shewed, with great learning, that this
reKc existed long before the Crusades, or even
Mahomet himself. From historical, the Cardinal ap-
pealed to circumstantial evidence. "No one,'' he
said, " doubts the identity of the coronation chair of
oar kings of England with that of Edward the Con-
fessor, simply from the fact that it has ever been pre-
served in Westminster Abbey for that purpose. The
same tradition exists in favour of St. Peter's Chair."
Cardinal Wiseman then proceeded to account for the
mistake into which Lady Morgan had been led. He
explained that in the Church of St.* Peter at Venice,
has long been preserved a stone chair called by the
populace " The Chair of St. Peter." The back of this
chair was adorned with a rich Cufic inscription which
the learned Assemani desired Cornaro to decipher for
his work. Cornaro, in a dissertation published in 1787,
clearly proves the inscription to be Mohammedan,
Digitized byLjOOQlC
288 LADY HORGAN> HEB CAEEEBy
and composed of several verses of the Koran. Car-
dinal Wiseman used several phrases in conducting
this '' rebutting case/' which gave offence to Lady
Morgan. "Here then/' he concluded, "we have
laid open the origin of Lady Morgan's foolish and
wicked tale ; the story was repeated to her ladyship :
she deemed it too well suited to her purposes of mis-
representation to merit examination, and gave it to
the public with all the assurance which points, and
all the levity which wings the worst shafts of calumny.
There is something truly profligate in her waste of
human character, whether we consider her assassina-
ting private reputations, by personal anecdote, or
cutting down whole classes of men as in the instance
we have been confuting."
Lady Morgan read the confutation, but was not
convinced by it. She addressed to the Cardinal a
portly pamphlet in reply which ran through five
editions.
'* It is possible," she wrote, " that an^ong your
Eminence's Caudatorii (or trainbearers) there may be
some one literary and clerical genius fired with the
ambition to edite your works, when I shall be no
longer living to defend mine, and who may hand
me down to posterity (my only chance) marked with
the cachet of your Eminence's reprobation. Self-
defence is the first law of nature, common to all created
things
'< ' That lyre and move, and have a beiDg/
and I am sure your Eminence will approve as a
man, as a gentlen}an, and as a Christian, even of a
woman availing herself of the great immunity, and
bringing her poor reasoning instincts to bear upon
an attack made against her by so potent and illus-
trious an opponent.
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LITBEAEY AND PEESONAL. 289
'' And now, my Lord, to the charge. Yon open
your 'Remarks^ thus:— 'Lady Morgan was origin-
ally known to the -public as a writer of rom'ance.
So long as she persevered in that character, she had a
right to invent amusing tales to gratify the curiosity
of her readers : yet even the regions of fiction are
subject to the great laws of justice and good faith ;
nor can that writer hope for indulgence, who, under
the disguise of a fabulous narrative, conceals an
attack upon the reputation and character of others/
" My Lord, I agree to every point of your observa-
tion ; but I beg to pause here. My romances were
not, as you assert, ' invented merely to amuse and
gratify the curiosity of my readers/ They were
written /or and in the great cause of Catholic Eman-
cipation — the theme and inspiration of my early
authorship, and the conviction of my after-life. The
titles of these books were Irish and Catholic. ' Tiie
Wild Irish Girl,' 'O'Donnel,' 'Florence Macarthy,'
'The O'Briens and the O'Mahertys,' &c.,— these
were not names, as we say in Ireland, ' to open a
Church Pew with/''
And she goes on to assure the Cardinal that her
heroes were Irish patriots, and her models of pas-
toral piety— Irish priests. Of her political labours in
Ireland, through the medium of those '' Eomances''
which the Cardinal had referred to slightingly. Lady
Morgan said, that " like the nibbling of the mouse
at the lion's net, she had assisted to set the noble
creature free.''
'' My Lord," she went on to say, '' I thank you
for the indulgence with which your Eminence offers
me the benefit of this ' ignorant mistake,* (and never
did the Church grant a more gratuitous one !) but I
decline profiting by it. My 'foolish and wicked
story of the chair' was no mistake— of mine at least.
u
Digitized byV^OOQlC
290 LADY MOEOAN, HER CAEEEB^
It was related to me and accepted in the most implicit
faith, on the authority of two of the greatest travel-
lers, antiquarians, and virtuosi of their age, who were
of that illustrious corps of Savans, the friends and
companions in peace, and the intellectual staff in war,
of the Emperor^Napoleon— Denon and ChampoUion.
The night before our departure from Paris for Italy,
on our first, last, and memorable visit, many dis-
tinguished — I may say illustrious — men were as-
sembled in our drawing-room in the Rue de Helder.
Every one was offering an opinion as to objects most
worthy of our notice, — when the Baron Denon, who,
in one of the happiest phases of the most briUiant
raconteur of his time, had been describing his visit to
the Inquisition, when he accompanied Buonaparte
into Spain, and when, satiated with the rueful relics,
which that awful place revealed to his antiquarian
curiosity, he fell asleep on the table of that terrible
Hall of Council, where he actually passed the night
— then related the anecdote of the discovery of the
Chair of St. Peter, adding, ' The inscription wasf in a
cufic character, that puzzled even CiiampoUion and
the most learned Arabic scholars of the Institut/
And thus, ' I told the tale as it was told me,' care-
lessly and fearlessly, which has drawn down on my work
the anathema of your Eminence's ^Eemarks on Lady
Morgan's Statements regarding St. Peter's Chair.' ''
This pamphlet contained a considerable quantity of
ingenious special pleading.
"But is it probable, 'my Lord, that St. Peter, the
humble fisherman of Galilee, permitted himself to be
seated or carried in this gorgeous chair, on the
.shoulders of slaves, as his successor Pio Nono does at
this day ?— he who had so recently heard his Divine
Master declare that ' foxes had holes, and the birds of
the air had nests, but the Son of Man hath not where
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LITERARY AND PERS0NA1». 291
to lay his head/ — he, to whose Eastern habits such a
chair raust have been repugnant I who had taught,
not ex cathedrd, but, like the Master he served,
walking or reclining on the lap of earth ?''
Apropos of this, a learned Orientalist declared that
Denon's account of the Chair would be, if true, ex-
tremely curious, as the Mahometans never used chairs
at all.
Some persons objected" that Cardinal Wiseman^s
''Refutation'^ appeared somewhat tardily. Its ap-
pearance in 1849, however, was a mere reprint.
In the "Catholic Magazine" for May, 1831, an
article of hostility towards Lady Morgan on tlie
subject of St. Peter's Chair, signed N. W., and
accompanied by a rude wood-cut, may be found.
Lady Morgan's eyesight was not much im-
proved by this troublesome controversy with Cardinal
Wiseman. The curious out-of-the-way Latin works
which she carefully examined, and adroitly quoted
with a view to sustain her in the wordy conflict,
could never have been accessible to any other
woman but herself. The acquaintance with Eccle-
siastical Black-letter tomes, displayed by Lady
Morgan in this pamphlet, was striking.
Lady Morgan's eyes enjoyed undisturbed repose
from this date, save when an application reached the
veteran authoress for her autograph ; and requests of
this character, she Vas always too amiable and too
vain to refuse. Authors' ''autographs" are, in
general, stately looking signatures, remarkable for
nothing but hair-strokes, down strokes, and a flourish.
But whenever Lady Morgan furnished her autograph
" by desire," she contrived to infuse into it a dash
of that quaint and unctuous wit which had so long
been a speciality with her. We transcribe one as a
specimen: —
Digitized by VjOOQ IC
292 LAJ)T MOBGAN^ HEB CABEEB,
" Autograph by desire of W. J. F ., Esq.
** Sydney Morgto, ber band and pen —
She will be good, but God knows when.
"William Street, Albert Gate, 17th May, 1853.''
"We have said that Lady Morgan had vanity, but
it was a vanity so quaint and sparkling, so unliie in
its frank honesty, to all other vanities, that it became
absolutely a charm. " I ^m v^n,'' she once said to
Mrs. Hall, " but I have a right to be So ; look at
the number of books I have written !* Have I not
been ordered to leave a kingdom, and refused to
obey ? Did ever woman move in a more false or a
brighter sphere, than I do ? My dear, I have three
invitations to dinn^ to-day, one from a Duchess,
another from a Countess, a third from a diplomatist
—I will not tell you who — a very naughty man, who,
of course, keeps the best society in London. Now
what right have I, my father's daughter, to this ?
What am I ? A pensioned scribbler ! yet I am
given gifts that queens might covet. Look at that
little clock, that stood in Marie Antoinette's dressing-
room. When the Louvre was pillaged, Denon met
a bonnet rouge with it in his hand, and took it from
him; Denon gave it to me.'' Then, with a rapid
change she added, '^Ahl that is a long time ago,
though I never refer to dates. Princes and prin-
cesses, celebrities of all kinds, ^ave presented me
with the souvenirs you see around me, and that
would make a wiser woman vain. But do they not
shew to advantage, backed by a few yards of red
cotton velvet ? If ladies did but know the value of
that same velvet— know how it throws up, and
throws out, and turns the insignificant into the signi-
^ Mr. Jeafferson, in his " Memoirs of the Novelists," says that
Lady Morgan was the author of seventy volumes.
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LITERARY. AND PERSONAL. ' 293
ficant— we should have more effect and less uphol-
stery in our drawing-rooms/^
In 1854, Mr. Bryce, the publisher, suggested to
Lady Morgan the expediency of reprinting, in one
volume for popular reading, the " Life of Salvator
Eosa/' The veteran authoress dictated to her ama-
nuensis a new preface to the book, whicli lias all the
pith, point and animation of her best pxoductions.
Prefixed to this new edition is a handsome copper-
plate portrait of Salvator Rosa, from the original
picture in the possession of the Marquis of West-
minster. We subjoin the Preface.
"Did Salvator live now, one might fancy him
joining the ranks of the gallant defenders of national
independence and civilization ; standing out, like one
of his own bold figures, upon the heights of Bala-
klava, pencil in hand and revolver in belt, realizing
for the homage of posterity, the grand battle raging
below, till, borne away by his kindling sympathies,
he flings down his pencil, and plunging into the
milie meets a glorious death, or shares a not less
glorious victory.
" With respect to the authorship of the * Life of
Salvator Rosa,' it was written con amore in the
prime of the author's life, and of her enthusiasm
for Italy. Of the principle which animates it,
time has not 'bated one jot' nor quenched one
sympathy. The style in which it was written may
now, perhaps, be deemed rococo, by the censors of
the modern free-and-easy school, who write that
those who run may read. Such as it is, however, it
was the style witli which the author won her spurs,
under the conunand of Field Marshal ^ O'Donnel,'
and other heroes, native and foreign, who cham-
pioned to their utmost the sublime cause of right
and their country's independence. If, liowever,
' Digitized by LjOOQ IC
294 ' LADY MORGAN^ HES OAEEEB,
' with the conceit of other veterans, she now ^shonl-
ders her crutch, and shews how fields were won/^ she
pleads that she served, though only as a subaltern,
in times of the greatest literary enterprise and
mental competitorship that British genius ever
produced since the Augustan ages of Elizabetli and
Anne l"
. "To the week of her death,*^ writes one of Lady
Morgan^s friends, " she continued to give receptions
every nia;ht regularly— even Sunday— with plenty of
^chat and coffee. The house was not large, and it
was nightly crammed with body and brain. Lady
Morgan used to glide about throwing incendiary
sparks of wit into every i/cw^and inert group ; though
almost blind, she seemed always au courant with
the progress of Literature ; and every new book un-
derwent oral criticism, in a style peculiar to herself.
Her house was a complete repository of curious
articles of vertu, antiques, historical relics, auto-
graphs, and other memorials seldom revealed to the
world. I was one night reclining in a fauteuil, when
Lady Morgan glided up to me, saying, ^ You may
be glad to know, Mr. , that the seat you are
sitting on, was Horace Walpole's study chair. I
bought it myself at the sale at Strawberry Hill ^ "
"Everything in these rooms,^^ obs^ves Mrs. Hall,
" was artistic, and when filled, you might have ima-
gined yourself in the presence of Madame de Genlis,
feeling that after the passing away of that small form
which enshrined so much vitality, and so large and
expansive a mind, the last link between us and tte
Aikius, the Barbaulds— the D'Arblays, would be
gone.^*
It would be difiicult to name 9> hostess more popu-
lar than Lady Morgan. She possessed not only tlie
art of pleasing, but of making every guest infinitely
Digitized by VjUUV It:
LITERAUY AND PEESONAL. 295
pleased with himself. Her coi*nucopia of frank and
pleasant compliments were dispensed in every comer
of that crowded room. Not long before her death,
a distinguished peer solicited Lady Morgan to do the
honours of a large reception and 8oir4e, which some
ladies had jokingly urged him to give. The veteran
authoress eagerly embraced the novel proposal, and
the elite of London still look back on that memo-
rable evening as the pleasantest ball of the season.
Although an ardent votary of life and fashion,
Lady Morgan did not forget that " in the midst of
life we are in death.**^ In 1^51 she drew up her
"last will and testament,'^ wherein she appointed
as executors Mr. Charles Wentworth Dilke, junior,
Mr. Duncan Macgregor, and her niece, Mrs. Sydney
Jones. Her personality, she declared, amounted to
a sum between fifteen and sixteen thousand pounds.
This property she bequeathed to her two nieces,
Mrs. Jones, and Mrs. Edward Geale, and to her
nephew by marriage, Mr. Marmion Savage. Lady
Morgan also left specific bequests— chiefly pictures —
as mementos to several of the nobility who were her
distinguished and much-valued patrons; amongst
them the Duke of Wellington, the Marquis of Nor-
manby, the Earl of Carlisle, Countess Beauchamp,
Viscountess Combermere, and Viscountess Dun-
garvan. The bust in marble of herself, taken in
1830 by a JVench sculptor, d'Angers, she di-
rected her executors to present to one of the public
galleries. We trust that the executors may yet
present it to the Royal Dublin Society with the
same generosity that induced them, in February
1860, to place Lady Morgan^s portrait, by Berthen,
in the New National Gallery of Ireland.
In 1858, Lady Morgan drew up a new will or
codicil, making some alteration in the bequest of
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LADY UOEOAN, H£K CAREER,
her voluminous manuscripts. She had formed, in
the interval, a warm friendship- for Mr. Hepworth
Dixon, editor of the "Athenaeum," "whom she pro-
nounced to be the only real patron she had ever
had. Mr. Wentworth Dilke was also named by lier
Ladyship as co-literary executor. In making this
change, Lady Morgan took the precaution of writing
"cancelled'' over the condemned will; but as she
neglected to do so in the presence of witnesses, some
litigation on the subject has since been the result.
" The world thought her vain and worldly,'' writer
her niece, "but I must pay this tribute to her
memory, by remarking that she denied herself many
luxuries that her old age and infirmity might have
entitled her to, in order to preserve for us intact,
by economy and self-abnegation, the produce of her
industry/'
It has often been remarked that Lady Morgan's
powers of conversation baffle all description. " Her
unbounded, unfading, unfailing freshness of memory,"
observes a newspaper writer in 1855, " her liveliness
of description, her inexhaustible wealth of anecdote,
the readiness of repartee, the variety of humour, the
pUability of wit, the occasional richness and abandon
of fun, the great faculty of adjusting herself to all
moods; of drawing out all minds, the sovereign gift
of making everybody pleased with himself, pleased
with everybody else, and above all things, pleased
with the amiable raconteuse herself — such is the
charm which makes Lady Morgan's boudoir the
pleasantest afternoon or evening rendezvous of
London to all who have privilege of admission."
It is impossible not to be forcibly struck bv
the contrast of personal feeling and emotion which
marked the early and the later days of Lady Mor-
gan's existence. The morning of h^x life — usually
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LITEEAEY AND PERSONAL. 297
a season of joy — was clouded by care and deluged
in tears. They were not "sun-shining showers/^
over in a few moments, but dark, dense, and dreary.
Let the reader glance back at pp. 63, 75, 82, 83,
89, 90, and he will find some chance records of
this long and gloomy era of care. But otiier evi-
dence abundantly exists. In the year 1800, for
instance^ she feelingly refers to —
" The griefs with which Iny later life has teem'd ;
The loss of golden hopes I fondly dream'd,
Of glittering expectations past away,
As sun-ting'd vapours of a summer day !"
And are not the concluding expressions of un-
certainty, ae the authoress vainly endeavours to
explore the womb of time, particularly touching
and interesting ? —
" What sweet and sad extremes I'm doom'd to know
From bliss ecstatic to corrosive woe ;
Obscur'd, concealed, my future prospects lie,
Nor more I know than that I'm bom to die."
Some of Lady Morgan^s myriad foes were wont,
among other calumnies, to accuse her of insincerity.
The fact is, however, that her literary ability was
only surpassed by the strength and fidelity of her
friendships. " There is,^' writes one of Lady Mor-
gan's former guests, *'no instance of any of her
friends or acquaintances being at any time set aside,
disregarded, or overlooked. The memory of the
heart was with her particularly strong and reten-
tive. However intended to shine in wide circles.
Lady Morgan was never so engaging as in petit
comite; however gracefuUy at ease amongst the
highest, however all alive amongst the highest, she
was never so perfectly at home as amongst her
friends. Her wit and humour were never so ir-
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298 LADY MOEGAN, HEE CAREER,
resistible as when blended with natural and generous
outbursts of feeling/^
Among her friends and guests was an accomplished
lad J, Miss de S s. On her marriage, in 1856,
Lady Morgan sent her a cambric-worked eider-down
pillow, lined with rose-coloured satin, and accompa-
nied with the following impromptu lines which are
now published for the first time :
** "While friendship and love thehr rich tributes combine,
To adorn your fair person, and gay, bridal shrine,
With gems, jewels, and trinkets, tiaras and rings.
Albums, prayer-books, bon-^ons, and other good things,
With caskets all glittering in velvet and gold,
And pur coq de pertcy these treasures to hold,
While some sorry swain brings his typical willow —
May I humbly offer my eider-down pillow ;
Be it typical, too, of a life of repose,
All flowery and downy, and couieur de rose,**
• The remarkable constitutional pertinacity with
which Lady Morgan retained, even after slie had
become an octogenarian, all her pristine vivacity, and
power of fascination, was pleasingly noticed by the
'^ Athenseum^^ a month or two previous to our author's
death. The vigilant editor of that influential journal
would seem to have regarded Lady Morgan in her
green old age, as a dear old evergreen which had
sustained many a storm, and which it behoved him,
in his capacity of pruner and cultivator in the garden
of literature, to encourage occasionally by acts of
generous and thoughtful attention. "As she then
sang/' observed the " Athenaeum,'' " she still sings.
Some harps seem never worn and never out of tune.
The chords obey her hands, as in the former day,
throbbing as she flings across them eloquent and
sprightly music. This faculty of liveliness, and
bantering good humour, is strange, as it is admir-
able in one whose long life has been, so to say, a
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LITEEARY AND PBESONAL. 299
succession of siege and storm. In her youthful time.
Lad? Morgan was less a woman of the pen than a
patriot and a partizan. Her books were battles.
^The Wild Irish Girl^ was her Marengo— ^Franco'
her Rivoli— 'Florence McCarthy/ her Austerlitz —
* Italy/ her Borodino. She underwent no Leipsic or
Waterloo— the last calamity of noble minds — yet she
must have suffered from the hail of shot and shell.
Through more years than we care to say, her name
was as signs among the combatants, her voice
sounded as a truojipet through Whig and Tory
camps, and a new book from her hand drummed a
host of enemies and friends to arms. She wrote,
too, in an age when, to be a woman, was to be
without defence, and to be a patriot, was to be a
criminal. Yet her spirits seem to preserve themselves
into a mild old age ; joyous as though her stream of
life had run between green and flowery banks—
graceful and noiseless— her girlhood, a romantic
dream— her womanhood a prophetic care, blessed and
crowned with that diadem of peace which the wise
man covets for the daughter of his love.^' Knowing
that the gods themselves are old, but forgetting that
the Muses are always young, the " Athenseum," in re-
viewing her Diary, observed that, '^ Lady Morgan had
lived through the love, admiration, and malignity of
three generations of men, and was, in short, a literary
Ninon, and seemed as brisk and captivating in the
year 1859, as when George was Prince, and the
author of Kate Kearney divided the laureatship of
society and song with Tom Moore.^' Lady Morgan
viewed this kind courtesy, with mingled feelings.
She felt grateful and flattered by the applause of the
" Athena5um ;'^ but she did not altogether like to be
reminded of her advanced age, or that those over
whom she still exercised a strange witchery offascina-
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800 ' LADT MOAOAK^ HBB CABEER^
tion should be informed of it. Under the influence
of these feelings she addressed to her reviewer the
foUowing lines, which strikingly exhibit her vigour
of thought to the last : —
** My life is not dated by years,
For time has drawn Ughtly his plough.
And they say scarce a furrow appears
To reveal what I ne'er wiU avow.
Till the spirit is qnenched, still a glow
Will fall o'er the dream of my days,
And brighten the hours as they flow
In the snn-set of memqi7'8 rays.
For as long as we feel we enjoy>
And the heart sets all dates at defiance.
And forgetful of life's last alloy,
With Time makes a holy alliance.
Then talk not to me of ** my age/'
I appeal from the phrase to the fact,
That I'm told in your own briUiant page
I'm still young in fun, fancy, and tact."*
Stdmbt Morgan.
* Since the appearance of these lines in ** The Friends, Foes
and Adventures of Lady Morgan," we received a letter from a
popular author, loudly crying "Stop Thief!" against her lady-
ship, for having '* committed a plagiarism on Byron.'* He cites
from the noble bard:—
" My life is not dated by years,
There are moments which act as a plough
And there is not a furrow appears
But is deep in my soul as my brow.*'
Our correspondent goes on to say : " On the same page of
Byron's works from which I quote, occur these lines on youth and
age.
** Oh tali not to me of & name great in story.
The days of our youth are the days of our glory."
There is, however, something so frank and undisguised in the
adaptation, that we are inclined to think Lady Morgan fully in»
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^D PERSONAL. ~ 301
deed, pre-eminent in "fan
plimented her on her looking
uld reply, " perhaps I am
better rouged than usual ; what am I after all but an
old Almanack with a new title ?'' A lady who was
wont to indulge in insincere smiles of benignity,
once said, *^Dear Lady Morgan, how lovely your
hair is— how do you preserve its colour?^* "By
dyeing it, my dear, 1 see you want the receipt/^ Lady
Morgan disliked to be cross-questioned about her
writings, and recoiled from the topic as " shoppy .V
A certain* pompous lady of the pen, who frequently
questioned Lady Morgan as to what she was doing,
and where she got her " facts,^^ asked one evening,
when Miladi was very briUiant and entertaining, her
, authority for some fact in " Italy/^ Twisting her
large green fan, and flashing upon the querist the
full blaze of her lustrous eyes, she replied, *' We all
imagine our facts, you know— and then happily forget
them ; it is to be hoped our readers do the same/^
Sir Emerson Tennent observes that the examples
we have given, recall vividlj? the sparkling energy of
Lady Morgan^s conversation. " The last occasion," pro-
ceeds Sir Emerson, " of our having Lady Morgan at
our house a few months before her decease, I could
not but congratulater her on the vigorous health
which she was then enjoying, and she rejoined by
saying, 'she be^eved that we might all live just as
long as we liked— and that, in fact, she looked upon
any one that M^ould die under a hundred as a
suicide V " *
tended her verses to be viewed as an ingenious parody on the
beautiful lines of Byron. This is the more likely, as Byron's lines
are serious and sentimental, while Lady Morgan's are humorous
and playful.— W. J. F.
* Letter from Sir J. Emerson Tennent, Sept. 12, 1859.
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802 ULDY MORGAN^ H£B CAEEEB,
HI health came at last. In May« 1858^ Lady
Morgan was completely prostrated by a virulent
attack of bronchitis— a disease which had, in the
previous November, consigned her brotber-in-law,
Sir Arthur Clarke, to the grave. No hope was
entertained of Lady Morgan's recovery for many
days; but an unexpected rally, attributable, in a
great degree, to her own patience and tranquillity of
mind, enabled the fair octogenarian to cheat death
for the nonce. Undaunted by his near approach,
she promptly availed herself of convalescence to
resume her old and brilliant position as qtieen of a
sparkling coterie. But she did not devote her new
spell of health and intellectual vigour to conversation
exclusively. With the aid of Miss Jewsbury, as
amanuensis, she arranged for publication a volume
of her Diary and Correspondence, extending from
August 1818, to May 1819. This period, as the
reader may remember, was spent by Lady Morgan in
London and Paris, in preparation for her visit to,
and great work on, Italy. These " Passages from
my Autobiography,'' which were published by Mr.
Bentley, in January, 1859, f)ossessed some traces
of the fault by which Moore's Memoirs and Diary
were disfigured, namely, a too obviously intense
enjoyment of fashionable celebrity and society, and
the same excessive desire for aristocratic praise
and recognitioi\. The book -contains several amusing
passages, but, on the whole, wants depth and senti-
ment.
Poor Lady Morgan's health was ricketty from
this date. Night air, or a damp atmosphere, rarely
failed to tell severely on her constitution. She was
ordered by her medical adviser to wear a respirator
—an appendage which she, by no means, enjoyed.
Her chief dislike to it arose from the fact that it
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UTERAEY AND PERSONAL. 303
completely padlocked coDversation. Yet UDpoetical
in its object and unpleasing in its associations, as
this medicinal invention must be considered, we find
it furnishing a happy vein of inspiration to one of
Lady Morgan^s friends. The lines now ' appear for
the first time.
To A Respirator intended for the use of Sydney, ,
Lady Morgan.
As Pagans guard the temples \vhicli enshrine,
Their fondly worshipped idols, deemed divine,
As one entrusted with a jewel rare;
Preserves its casket with attentive care.
As anxious misers watch their treasured wealth,
Watch thou, the treasure of thy lady's health.
A precious trust, fulfill thy duty well,
Unkindly frosts, and wintry winds repel,
Preserve the casket where a jewel lies.
Which long has charmed, whose brightness still we prize.
Guard well the honoured temple where enshrined
Worth, wit, and genius form a woman's mind.
"The last time we saw the 'Wild Irish Girl,'''-
observes Mrs. I^all, '^ she was seated on a couch in
her bed-room, as pretty and picturesque a ruin of old
lady womankind, as ever we looked upon ; her black
silk dressing-gown fell round her petite form, which
seemed so fragile that we feared to see her move.
We recalled to memory Maria Edgeworth, having
believed her to be the smallest great woman in the
world, but Lady Morgan seemed not half her size.
Yet her head looked as noble as ever ; the lines of
her face had deepened, but her large luminous eyes
were bright and glistening, her voice was clear and
firm, her manner subdued — she was not at all restless,
but spoke with confidence of arranging her autobio-
graphy, of which she had sent forth a little portion
as an avant courier. She shewed us a large black
trunk which she' told us had, when she married, con-
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304 LADY IfOBOAN^ HEK CASEEB^
tained her trousseau^' during the happy interreg-
nutn between hoops and crinolines/— and now was
filled with manuscript ; she spoke with affection of
the dear relative, ' who never suffered her to feel that
she was childless/ of her devoted servants (and they
certainly deserved her praise) and of the kindness of
her friends. She gave voice to one or two little
sarcasms that shewed her acuteness was undimmed ;
but the hour flew swiftly and harmoniously; we
promised to come some evening soon, and rejoiced
her maid by saying that though her ladyship was
changed, she looked much better than we expected.
We heard, what we know to be the case, that Lady
Morgan during her illness, and indeed, always to her
servants, was the most patient and gentle of mis-
tresses. An unamiable woman could not have been
beloved, as she was, by all around her/'
Poor Lady Morgan did not long survive the pub-
lication of her '' Odd Volume/' as she herself styled
it on the fly-leaf. She passed tranquilly into eternity
on April 14th, 1859, aged eighty-four, and with her
became extinct the last illustration of high Whig
society belonging to the world of Byron, Bogers, and
Moore.
"Life was so strong/' observed the 'Athenaeum,'
in recording her death, " and spirits were so brilliant
in the woman of genius who departed from among us
only a few hours since,— enjoyment of society was so
keen with her to the last, — habit of expression so
eloquent, — and life and spirits and expression kept
such perfect pace with the interests of the day, the
changes of the hour,— that while recording the
death of Lady Morgah we feel something of sudden
surprise, besides much of personal regret/' The
timid tendency to shrink from fashionable society
which marked the early life of Sydney Owenson, is
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LITEEAKY AND PERSONAL. 305
exceedingly curious when contrasted with the passion-
ate affection for it with which Lady Morgan^s days
closed. In 1799 the tiny girl, addressing her solitary
bower, writes —
" Oft from th* unmeaning crowd Vd fly,
From fashion's vapid circle hie,
And beneath thy umbrage sought
The luxury of pensive thought."
But although an ardent votary of fashion in the noon
and evening of her life, Lady Morgan was keenly
alive to the solemnity of death, and to the unseemli-
ness of a fashionable cortege at her funeral. *'Let
no such ghastly mockery accompany my poor re-
mains to their last resting place,^' she said; "I
desire that my funeral may be strictly private, and
limited to a hearse and one mourning coach.''
On INiesday morning, April 19th, 1859, a coffin
hardly larger than an infant child's, was lowered into
the clay of old Brompton cemetery; and to that
historical grave many an Irish pilgrim will yet
wander to gaze upon the storied slab"*^ of
Sgljneg EalJg iWlotflan.
This Life preaches a moral, but it is a moral dif-
ferent from that which the panegyrists of Lady
Morgan have hitherto sought to inculcate. ,
Lady Morgan was not, as has been asserted, in
Chambers' Cyclopaedia of English Literature, "a
self-educated person." On the contrary, she received,
* The memorial consists of a flat slab, supported by six piUars;
below is a block of polished white marble, on which is inscribed
** Sydney Lady Morgan,'* with the date of her death. The time
of her birth is not mentioned. Above the inscription is an ancient
Irish harp resting on two volumes, on one of which is written
« Irish Giri," on the other " France." The tomb is backed by the
dark foliage of Polish firs, which adds much to the effect. West-
macott is the designer of Lady Morgan's tomb.
X
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306 LADY MORGAN, HER CAREER,
as we have shown, no stint of schooling— so much
that it absolutely disgusted her. Her early writings
in themselves, smell of the hot atmosphere of the
school-room : we feel ourselves sitting upon a hard
form as we read ; and the ring of the pedagogue's
birch more than once grates upon our ear. Sydney '
Owenson's acquaintance with foreign languages, and
familiarity with English classical literature, is ap-
parent to the very verge of pedantry in her first
works, and shows, that the education of the au-
thoress had been carefully attended to. The mora),
therefore, is not, that by energetic self- culture in later
life she tore from her mind the myriad cobwebs which
alleged intellectual neglect, extending over many early
years, had created ; but the lesson which her life
teaches is based on the great fact, that with her own
fragile female hand she parried undauntedly the
assaults of a furious and organised host of Critic-
Cut-Throats, and finally hurled them, one by
one, to the ground, where the teeth that had been
sharpened to gnaw this brilliant woman's heart,
impotently bit the dust beneath her feet. Self-
reliance and self-respect, without the support of
which no genius can be secure or genuine, formed
a prominent feature in her idiosyiicracy. Those who
arei^in fear of falling do nothing but stumble ; and
impressed by the trutli of the aphorism Sydney Lady
Morgan, with queen-like dignity and confidence, pur-
sued the opposite course boldly. The blows aimed
at her own fair fame she made recoil upon her as-
sailants. The finest poetic genius that had ever
shone on the world had been already quenched pre-
maturely by the deadly grasp of John Wilson
Croker; a violent attack in the Quarterly Eeview,
killed poor unresisting Keats. An unadorned slab,
in the Churchyard of St. Werburgh, Dublin, com-
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LITEBARY AND PERSONAL. 307
municates to the reader the melancholy fact, that
Edwin, one of the most promising Irish actors, died
in 1805, from a broken heart caused by an illiberal
criticism in Croker's *^ Familiar Epistles on the Irish
Stage/' "There is nothing so detestable,'' says
Addison, " in the eyes of all good men, as defama-
tion or satire aimed at particular persons. It de*
serves the utmost detestation, of all who have either
the love of their country or the honour of their
religion at heart. I have not scrupled to rank
those who deal in these pernicious arts of writing,
with the murderer and assassin. Every honest man
sets as high a value upon his good name as
upon life itself; and I cannot but think that those
who privily assault the one, could destroy the other,
might they do it with the same security and
impunity." To virulent criticism the brilliant Mon-
tesquieu also fell an unresisting victim. Aristotle,
accused by critics of ignorance and vanity, poisoned
himself. Cummyns declared, shortly before his death,
that some ill-natured criticisms were hurrying him
to eternity. Hereclitus, persecuted by his country-
men, retired in disgust from the world. Anaxan-
drides, dreading hostile criticism, burned his dramas.
Eacine died of extreme sensibility to a rebuke, and
exclaimed that one severe criticism outweighed all
the gratification which the concentrated praise of
his admirers could produce. The melancholy death of
Dr. Hawkesworth is attributed to a similar circum-
stance. Marsham burnt the second partof his valuable
" Chronology " because some flippant critics assailed
the first. Bentley succumbed to the jealous cavils
of Conyer Middleton, and abandoned the publication
of his best book. Pelisson records the death of a
promising young tragic author from the effects of
L'Etoile's criticism. £itson went mad from critical
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808 LADY MOHGAN.
persecution, and died under the hallucination that
scribes surrounded his death-bed armed with
weapons for his destruction. The learned Abbe
Cassagne also went mad and died from a stroke of
Boileau^s literary lightning. Scott of Arawell never
recovered from a ludicrous criticism. Batteux be-
came a prey to excessive grief. Newton suffered
from the malignant jealousy of Leibnitz and others,
and abandoned the publication of a valuable work
on Optics in consequence of cavils. Innumerable
instances might be cited to shew* the number of
brilliant minds who in all ages have weakly suc-
cumbed to* the poisoned shafts of ambushed an-
tagonism. "What a vast amount of valuable literary
and scientific achievement, have been thus Ipst ir-
recoverably to the world! We do not deprecate
adverse criticism when offered fairly and conscien-
tiously ; but we detest to see it made the vehicle of
malignant assault from private or party motives, as
was the case with the majority of the examples we
have cited. Had Sydney Morgan bared that heart
which blazed with pure patriotism, to the dastard
stab, and submitted her dead body to be trampled
upon, as Aristotle, Racine, Hawkesworth, Ritson,
Cassagne, Montesquieu, and Keats, submitted and
were trampled, this memoir would have had but
an inferior moral to dignify it. That brilliant wo-
man, however, grappled with the arm which sought
to destroy her fair reputation, and possibly her fife,
and like the good fairy crushing the Evil Genius
in a Pantomime, she smote the aich-Foe to the
earth, and placed her tiny foot, casedjftisjBfhite satin,
upon his ponderous coat of mail ! / ? >^ ;
THE END.
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