Women of 'Ninety-Eight

Each story keeps the passage it was read from. Open one to read it as the scan has it, and, where the companion has written its own telling, that too. The passages are read off photographs of the page by machine, so a word here and there comes out wrong; they are kept as the reading produced them, so you can check any of them against the scan.

1. Robert Holmes arrested in the streets of Dublin, 1803

   Dublin · city · Dublin · 1803

   Six days after the outbreak of Robert Emmet's insurrection, Robert Holmes, unaware of his brother-in-law's plans, was arrested in the streets of Dublin on his way home and held for a year in Dublin Castle.

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   Six days after the outbreak of Robert Emmet’s Insurrection, Robert Holmes, who had been in England on business, and knew nothing of his brother-in-law’s plans, was arrested in the streets of Dublin, on his way home. About the same time John Patten, Jane Emmet’s brother, was arrested, and the wildest rumours of Robert’s fate were brought to the ladies of the Emmet family, who were now in residence at Donnybrook. The anxiety proved too much for Elizabeth Emmet, and while her youngest son lay in prison awaiting his tragic destiny, she died in her daughter’s arms.

   Think of what Mary Anne Holmes had to endure during those terrible weeks. One brother was in exile, another in the prison from which the only egress was up the steps to the scaffold; her husband a prisoner with an uncertain fate. Truly “the strong mind” had heavy drains on it when she followed her mother’s coffin to the churchyard of St. Peter’s in Aungier Street, whither Dr. Emmet’s had only a little time preceded it. Small wonder that the end of her sad story came with tragic swiftness, and in tragic circumstances.

   Project Gutenberg #67720, Chapter 7

   As the companion tells it

   Dublin in 1803, six days after Robert Emmet's insurrection broke out. Robert Holmes had been in England on business and knew nothing of his brother-in-law's plans. He was arrested in the streets of Dublin on his way home and held for a year in Dublin Castle. About the same time John Patten, Jane Emmet's brother, was arrested too. The wildest rumours of Robert Emmet's fate reached the ladies of the Emmet family at Donnybrook, and the anxiety proved too much for Elizabeth Emmet. While her youngest son lay in prison awaiting his tragic destiny, she died in her daughter's arms. Mary Anne Holmes endured those terrible weeks with one brother in exile, another in the prison from which the only way out was up the steps to the scaffold, and her husband a prisoner with an uncertain fate. She followed her mother's coffin to the churchyard of St. Peter's in Aungier Street, where Dr. Emmet's had only a short time before preceded it. The end of her sad story came with tragic swiftness.

2. Sarah Curran finds refuge with the Crawfords at Lismore

   Lismore · townland · Waterford

   After the death of her mother and later after being driven from her father's house, Sarah Curran twice found shelter with the Crawford family of Lismore.

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   Two years after Gertrude’s death, a grief even more intolerable befel our poor Sarah. She lost her mother, whose favourite daughter she was—and it was worse than death which caused the separation. Sarah was fourteen at the time—old enough to feel the shame, and to suffer the agony of it in every fibre of her pure and noble nature. So overwhelmed was she with grief that it was thought advisable for her to leave the Priory for some time. She therefore accepted the offer of hospitality made her by an early college friend of her father, Rev. Thomas Crawford, of Lismore, and remained with his family “until better thoughts at home led to her return to it.”

   At what time she learned to know Robert Emmet we are not definitely informed. The Emmets and the Currans were old acquaintances—if not friends—and for a time at least Thomas Addis Emmet and John Philpot Curran were neighbours in Rathfarnham. They must have often met, likewise, in the law-courts. Richard Curran, Sarah’s eldest brother, was a fellow-student of Robert Emmet’s at Trinity, and it was ostensibly to see him, and to enjoy the witty conversation of his father that Robert Emmet, after his return from Paris in 1802, paid his frequent visits to the Priory. Curran loved to see youth around him, and made the young men heartily welcome.

   Project Gutenberg #67720, Chapter 13

   As the companion tells it

   Somewhere around here, Sarah Curran found refuge with the Crawford family. Two years after Gertrude's death, Sarah lost her mother. She was fourteen, and her mother's favourite daughter. The separation was worse than death, that much was said. Sarah was so overcome with grief that it was thought best for her to leave the Priory for a time. Rev. Thomas Crawford of Lismore, an early college friend of her father, offered her hospitality. She accepted and stayed with his family, in the words of the source, "until better thoughts at home led to her return to it." She would return to the Priory, but the years ahead held Robert Emmet. The Emmets and the Currans were old acquaintances, if not friends. Thomas Addis Emmet and John Philpot Curran were neighbours in Rathfarnham for a time, and they must have met often in the law-courts too. Richard Curran, Sarah's eldest brother, was a fellow-student of Robert Emmet's at Trinity. After his return from Paris in 1802, Robert Emmet paid frequent visits to the Priory, ostensibly to see Richard and to enjoy the witty conversation of Sarah's father. Curran loved to see youth around him and made the young men welcome.

3. Anne Devlin taken to the Spa at Lucan for her health

   near Lucan · town · Dublin · 1803–1806

   Toward the end of her imprisonment, after officials reported her plight to the lord lieutenant, Anne Devlin's treatment improved and she was several times taken to the Spa at Lucan for the benefit of her ruined health.

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   “At the latter end of her confinement, some gentlemen belonging to the Castle had come to the gaol and seen her in her cell. She told them her sad story, and it was told by them to the lord lieutenant. From that time her treatment was altogether different; she was not only allowed the range of the woman’s ward, but was permitted to go outside the prison, and three or four times, accompanied by her sister and Mrs. Dwyer and one of the turnkeys, was taken to the Spa at Lucan for the benefit of her health; for she was then crippled in her limbs, more dead than alive, hardly able to move hand or foot.

   “At length Mr. Pitt died; it was a joyful day for Ireland. The prisons were thrown open where many an honest person had lain since the month of July, 1803.”

   Project Gutenberg #67720, Chapter 14

   As the companion tells it

   As you pass through Lucan, this was the spa where Anne Devlin was brought several times between 1803 and 1806. She had been held in prison after the rising, crippled in her limbs, hardly able to move hand or foot. Some gentlemen from the Castle visited her cell, heard her story, and told it to the lord lieutenant. After that her treatment improved, and she was allowed out, accompanied by her sister and Mrs. Dwyer and one of the turnkeys, brought here to the spa for the benefit of her ruined health.

4. Burial of the Earl of Kildare at Christ Church

   Christ Church Cathedral · ecclesiastical site · Dublin · 1773

   The Earl of Kildare died in November 1773 and was carried from Leinster House, the home he had built, to the family vault in Christ Church Cathedral, where he awaits the resurrection.

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   In 1766 the Earl, who had been made to suffer as much as the administration dared for the bold stand he had taken in Irish politics, received at last the “_pinchbeck dukedom_” which had been promised him nearly twenty years ago. Government was as kind to him now, as it had been averse to him before; and lucrative offices were offered him in quick succession. But death took him from the midst of his splendour, and one November day in the year 1773 he was carried from the beautiful home he had built for himself in Leinster House to the family vault in Christ Church, where his ashes await the resurrection.

   Project Gutenberg #67720, Chapter 3

   As the companion tells it

   An ecclesiastical site, Christ Church Cathedral. The Earl of Kildare had taken a bold stand in Irish politics, and the administration made him suffer for it. In 1766 he received at last what had been promised him nearly 20 years before, what he called a "pinchbeck dukedom." Government grew kind to him then, offering lucrative offices in quick succession. But death took him from the midst of his splendour. One November day in 1773 he was carried from Leinster House, the beautiful home he had built for himself, to the family vault, where his ashes await the resurrection.

5. Emmet's defence in the Tralee duel trial

   Tralee · townland · Kerry · 1793

   Thomas Addis Emmet was engaged as counsel in the 1793 trial at Tralee of Lieutenant Carr, who had shot a Mr. O'Connell in a duel, one of the notable early cases that made his reputation at the Bar.

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   Other notable cases in which Emmet was engaged included the trial at Tralee in 1793 of Lieutenant Carr who had shot a Mr. O’Connell in a duel, and the trial of a Mr. O’Driscoll, at Cork assizes in the same year, on a charge of seditious libel. In this case Emmet was associated with the Sheareses and Leonard MacNally. So successful was he, according to his cousin, St. John Mason’s statement to Dr. Madden, that the first year of his practice he realised £700.

   In 1795 he took the oath of the _United Irishmen_ under very sensational circumstances, thus detailed by Madden: “A case occurred before Prime Serjeant Fitzgerald, in which a conviction was obtained on a charge of administering the United Irishmen’s oath, then a capital offence. Emmet appeared for the prisoners on a motion in arrest of judgment. He took up the pleadings in which the words of the oath were recited, and he read them in a very deliberate manner, and with all the gravity of a man who felt that he was binding his soul by the obligations of a solemn oath. ‘I, Thomas Addis Emmet, in the presence of God, do pledge myself to my country that I will use all my abilities and influence in the attainment of an impartial and adequate representation of the Irish nation in parliament; and as a means and absolute and immediate necessity in the establishment of this chief good of Ireland, I will endeavour, as much as lies in my ability, to forward a brotherhood of affection, an identity of interests, a communion of rights and an union of power, among Irishmen of all religious persuasions, without which, every reform in parliament must be partial, not national, inadequate to the wants, delusive to the wishes, and insufficient to the freedom and happiness of this country.’

   Project Gutenberg #67720, Chapter 5

   As the companion tells it

   Somewhere close to Tralee, in 1793, a young barrister named Thomas Addis Emmet made his name defending Lieutenant Carr, who had shot a Mr. O'Connell in a duel. It was one of the early cases that built Emmet's reputation at the Bar. That same year he also defended a Mr. O'Driscoll at the Cork assizes on a charge of seditious libel, working alongside the Sheareses and Leonard MacNally. His cousin, St. John Mason, told Dr. Madden that Emmet was so successful in his first year of practice that he earned £700. A few years later, in 1795, Emmet took the oath of the United Irishmen himself in a memorable moment in court. He was appearing for prisoners on a motion in arrest of judgment after a conviction for administering the United Irishmen's oath, then a capital offence. He picked up the pleadings, which contained the words of the oath, and read them aloud with deliberate gravity, as though binding his own soul. The words he spoke were: "I, Thomas Addis Emmet, in the presence of God, do pledge myself to my country that I will use all my abilities and influence in the attainment of an impartial and adequate representation of the Irish nation in parliament."

6. Intimacy with the Teeling Family of Lisburn

   near Lisburn · town · Antrim

   Neilson became closely connected with Luke Teeling of Lisburn and his family, dating from earlier political cooperation to elect a Reform candidate for Co. Down.

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   It was probably in this connection that he became so intimate with Luke Teeling, of Lisburn, and his family, though their relations dated from a still earlier period when both men were working heart and soul to return to Parliament, as representative of the Co. Down, that ardent Reform candidate, the Hon. Robert Stewart—better known to history as Lord Castlereagh.

   In 1795 the terrible condition of affairs in the County Armagh, where the Catholics had been subjected to a barbarous persecution at the hands of the Peep o’ Day Boys without the slightest attempt on the part of the authorities, either to protect them or to restrain their savage aggressors, was rapidly reaching a tragic climax. Young Charles Teeling, then a lad of seventeen, got information that the Catholics, convinced that they could not be worse off than they were, were preparing to take the field openly against their intolerant foes. Relying on the influence which his family, from its standing, enjoyed among the Catholics of Armagh, he set off from Lisburn, without informing any one, in the hope of inducing the Defenders to desist from their disastrous purpose.

   Project Gutenberg #67720, Chapter 5

   As the companion tells it

   Lisburn was home to Luke Teeling and his family, and it was through political work that a close bond formed between the Teelings and Neilson. Their connection went back further, to when both men worked to send the Honourable Robert Stewart, later known as Lord Castlereagh, to Parliament as a Reform candidate for County Down. In 1795, the situation in County Armagh was becoming desperate. Catholics there had endured savage persecution by the Peep o' Day Boys, with no protection from the authorities and no check on the aggressors. Young Charles Teeling, then 17 years old, learned that the Catholics, feeling they had nothing left to lose, were preparing to take up arms openly against their enemies. Trusting in the standing his family held among the Catholics of Armagh, he left without telling anyone, hoping to persuade the Defenders to abandon their plan.

7. Pamela charms Lord Charlemont at Charlemont House

   Charlemont House · site · Dublin · 1793

   In 1793, Pamela and Lord Edward visited Charlemont House, where Lord Charlemont was charmed by her elegance and judicious remarks about the library and curiosities, despite Dublin ladies' hostility toward her.

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   Nor was it the populace alone whom Pamela won by her beauty. Lord Charlemont, whose authority in all matters of taste was regarded as second to none in Europe, was charmed by her. Jepham was with him one day in 1793 in Charlemont house, when Pamela and Lord Edward came to view its treasures, and he wrote to his uncle describing the visit. “She is elegant and engaging in the highest degree, and showed the most judicious taste in her remarks about the library and curiosities. The Dublin ladies wish to put her down. She promised Lord Charlemont with great good humour to assist him in keeping her husband in order.... She was dressed in a plain riding habit, and they came to the door in a curricle.”[82]

   Footnote 82:

   Project Gutenberg #67720, Chapter 5

   As the companion tells it

   A town house, Charlemont House, in Dublin. In 1793, Pamela and Lord Edward came to view its treasures. Lord Charlemont, whose authority in matters of taste was regarded as second to none in Europe, was charmed by her. Jepham was with him that day and wrote to his uncle describing the visit. She is, he wrote, "elegant and engaging in the highest degree, and showed the most judicious taste in her remarks about the library and curiosities." The Dublin ladies wished to put her down. She promised Lord Charlemont, with great good humour, to assist him in keeping her husband in order. She was dressed in a plain riding habit, and they came to the door in a curricle.

8. Teeling Family Relocates to Union Lodge near Dundalk

   Dundalk · town · Louth · 1797

   As their lives were no longer safe in Lisburn, Mr. Teeling moved his family to Union Lodge near Dundalk, previously used by his son Bartle as a headquarters, though even there they remained unsafe.

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   As their lives were no longer safe in Lisburn, Mr. Teeling moved his family to Union Lodge, near Dundalk, which had been previously used by Bartle as his headquarters, But even here they were not safe. He got private notice from a well-wisher that he was about to be arrested. He, therefore, found an asylum for Mrs. Teeling and the girls with her brother, Mr. John Taaffe, at Smarmore Castle, Ardee, while he looked around him to make fresh provision for them.

   It is not very clear at what date Bartle began to identify himself with the United Irishmen; but it seems to have been about the same time as Lord Edward Fitzgerald and Arthur O’Connor joined them, that is to say early in 1796. He became the fast friend of Lord Edward, and before Charles’s arrest on September 16th, 1796, the two brothers were frequent guests at Kildare Lodge. It was here that Bartle met and loved the fair Lady Lucy Fitzgerald, Lord Edward’s favourite sister, and who shall say that he loved Ireland the less, because his vision of Kathleen Ni Houlihan borrowed the lovely ardent face, and the bright eyes, veiled with long dark drooping lashes of “Lucia.” While Lord Edward and O’Connor were on the Continent negotiating with the French Government, Bartle Teeling, under a plausible plea of a business journey, made a complete tour of Ireland on foot. His object, according to his nephew, was to make himself “perfectly acquainted with Ireland’s resources, with her capabilities of entering upon, and maintaining an internal war, with the intellectual and physical qualities, the habits and the manners of her people, with their wants and their endurance, their hopes and their resolves; as well as with the natural features of the country—her rivers, her coasts, and her harbours.” The fact shows that Bartle Teeling, for all his youth, was amongst the most far-sighted of the leaders.

   Project Gutenberg #67720, Chapter 3

   As the companion tells it

   In 1797, Dundalk became a refuge for a family in danger. Mr. Teeling's household was no longer safe in Lisburn, so he moved them to Union Lodge, near the town. His son Bartle had already used the lodge as his headquarters. But even here they were not safe. A well-wisher sent private word that Mr. Teeling was about to be arrested. He found a place for Mrs. Teeling and the girls with her brother, Mr. John Taaffe, at Smarmore Castle in Ardee, while he looked for some fresh provision for them. Bartle had joined the United Irishmen about early in 1796, the same time as Lord Edward Fitzgerald and Arthur O'Connor. He became Lord Edward's fast friend. Before Charles's arrest on September 16th, 1796, the two brothers were frequent guests at Kildare Lodge. There Bartle met and loved Lady Lucy Fitzgerald, Lord Edward's favourite sister. His love of Ireland was bound up with her lovely ardent face, her bright eyes veiled with long dark drooping lashes. While Lord Edward and O'Connor were on the Continent negotiating with the French Government, Bartle Teeling made a complete tour of Ireland on foot, under the plausible plea of a business journey. His object, according to his nephew, was to make himself "perfectly acquainted with Ireland's resources, with her capabilities of entering upon, and maintaining an internal war, with the intellectual and physical qualities, the habits and the manners of her people." He sought to know their wants and endurance, their hopes and resolves, as well as the natural features of the country, her rivers, her coasts, and her harbours. For all his youth, this shows Bartle Teeling was amongst the most far-sighted of the leaders.

9. The Emmet Family Settles in Molesworth Street

   Molesworth Street · street · Dublin · 1771–1778

   Dr and Mrs Emmet moved to Dublin in 1771 and took up residence in Molesworth Street, where several of their children, including Robert Emmet in 1778, were born.

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   Perhaps the little graves that multiplied so fast in the Cork cemetery made that city a depressing place for Elizabeth Emmet; or perhaps her husband was attracted to Dublin, by the promises of professional advancement offered by the appointment to the Viceroyalty of his kinsman, the Marquis of Buckingham. At all events it is a matter of history that Dr. and Mrs. Emmet came to Dublin in 1771 and took up their residence in Molesworth Street.[11] Here a number of their children were born, including Mary Anne (1773) and Robert (1778).

   Footnote 11:

   Project Gutenberg #67720, Chapter 2

   As the companion tells it

   In 1771, Dr. and Mrs. Emmet came to Dublin and took up residence in Molesworth Street. Perhaps the little graves multiplying so fast in the Cork cemetery made that city depressing for Elizabeth Emmet, or perhaps her husband was drawn by the professional advancement promised when his kinsman, the Marquis of Buckingham, was appointed to the Viceroyalty. A number of their children were born in Molesworth Street, including Mary Anne in 1773 and Robert in 1778.

10. Ally Walsh visits Luke Teeling in Carrickfergus prison

    Carrickfergus · townland · Antrim · 1798

    Miss Alicia Walsh, later Mother Catherine of the Gardiner Street Convent, visited Luke Teeling with her aunt at his prison in Carrickfergus, an act praised warmly by Teeling in his letters to his wife.

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    And talking of “Sisters” reminds us of the striking fact that it was in the prisons of the United Irishmen, our Irish Sisters of Charity had, in a certain sense, their origin. In the letters of Mr. Luke Teeling to his wife, we find frequent mention of a Miss Alicia Walsh, who came with her aunt, Ally Lynch, of Drogheda (Mrs. Teeling’s sister) to visit him in his prison at Carrickfergus. “Ally Walsh is an uncommonly fine girl,” he notes of her approvingly. Many a tongue was to echo Mr. Teeling’s praise in the after-days when “Ally Walsh,” the first companion of Mary Aikenhead, had become the celebrated Mother Catherine of the Gardiner Street Convent. To learn more of her I must refer my readers to Mrs. Atkinson’s “Mary Aikenhead.” I shall content myself here with borrowing Mrs. Atkinson’s account of her experiences in ’Ninety-Eight.

    “During the rebellion of 1798, she went from prison to prison at much personal risk, to carry messages from friends, or to console the inmates who were the objects of her deepest sympathy. Some of her nearest and dearest relatives[96] suffered greatly, not only from the confiscation and unjust oppression, but also from barbarous bodily tortures which at that period were commonly inflicted at the will of a licentious soldiery. One of her friends, a young man of exemplary life, was stripped to the waist, tied to a cart, and dragged through the streets of Drogheda, his inhuman executioners flogging him all the way, until at last he fainted under their hands, and was consigned to a prison cell. The first intimation his mother received of the occurrence that had taken place was a demand for old linen to dress her son’s back which was one hideous wound.

    Project Gutenberg #67720, Chapter 12

    As the companion tells it

    Somewhere around here, in 1798, Luke Teeling was held in prison, and a young woman named Alicia Walsh came to visit him. She arrived with her aunt, Ally Lynch of Drogheda, who was Teeling's wife's sister. The letters of Luke Teeling to his wife mention her frequently, and his praise was warm and plain. "Ally Walsh is an uncommonly fine girl," he noted. Years later, that same Ally Walsh became Mother Catherine of the Gardiner Street Convent, the first companion of Mary Aikenhead. The Irish Sisters of Charity had, in a certain sense, their origin in the prisons of the United Irishmen. In 1798 she went from prison to prison, at much personal risk, carrying messages from friends and consoling the inmates. Some of her own nearest relatives suffered greatly. They endured confiscation, unjust oppression, and barbarous bodily tortures inflicted by a licentious soldiery. One of her friends, a young man of exemplary life, was stripped to the waist, tied to a cart, and dragged through the streets of Drogheda. His inhuman executioners flogged him all the way until he fainted, and he was consigned to a prison cell. His mother's first word of what had happened was a demand for old linen to dress her son's back, which was one hideous wound.

11. Billy Morrison fights at the Battle of Antrim

    near Antrim · town · Antrim · 1798

    Billy Morrison, armed with his pike after a hearty breakfast from his wife, is imagined to have given a good account of himself in the fighting at Antrim town during the 1798 rising.

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    One fancies that Billy Morrison gave a good account of himself that day in Antrim town, and did credit, with his strong pike arm, to his wife’s good feeding. And so it has not seemed unfitting to evoke, from the past, her homely sturdy form, and set her even by the side of the tragic figure of Willie Neilson’s widowed mother. For from the sturdiness of the one, no less than from the heroism of the other, proceeds the unconquerable spirit of Ireland.

    Finis.

    Project Gutenberg #67720, Chapter 17

    As the companion tells it

    In 1798, fighting came to Antrim town. Billy Morrison was there with his pike. His wife had fed him a hearty breakfast that morning, and one fancies he gave a good account of himself, doing credit with his strong pike arm to her good feeding. The book that remembers him sets his wife's sturdy form beside Willie Neilson's widowed mother. From the sturdiness of the one and the heroism of the other, it says, proceeds the unconquerable spirit of Ireland.

12. Dr Emmet Builds a House in Cork's George's Street

    George's Street · street · Cork · 1760

    After his marriage to Elizabeth Mason in Cork in 1760, Dr Robert Emmet built a large house for his bride in George's Street, where the couple began their married life.

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    Dr. Madden informs us, on the authority of Elizabeth Mason’s nephew, Mr. J. St. John Mason, that the doctor built a large house for his bride in George’s Street. It seems probable that the _ménage_ included from the beginning the doctor’s widowed mother, Mrs. Rebecca Temple Emmet, and his widowed and childless sister-in-law, Mrs. Grace Russell Emmet, relict of his brother Thomas, who died in 1754. At all events these two ladies died under the doctor’s roof, after the family had moved to Dublin; the elder in 1774, the younger in 1788. A bequest of the latter to her “dear sister-in-law” of a gold watch, and ample legacies to the children seem to betoken that Elizabeth Emmet had the secret of gaining the hearts of her husband’s kin, and that as mistress of a large and wealthy household she knew how to make all who sat by her hearth, or gathered round her table, happy.

    She was soon busy in her nursery. In 1761, her first-born son, Christopher Temple Emmet, made his entry into it. The boy was destined, like Cuchullin, to “a great name and a short life.” He was only twenty-eight when he died, but he had already impressed his contemporaries as one of the most brilliant men of his time. Grattan, who disliked the Emmets intensely (because they had the courage of their convictions, and he, in spite of his fiery rhetoric, was all for compromise and security), has left on record his opinion of Temple Emmet, and it is worth quoting at length:—

    Project Gutenberg #67720, Chapter 2

    As the companion tells it

    This is George's Street in Cork, where around 1760, Dr. Robert Emmet built a large house for his bride, Elizabeth Mason, following their marriage. The household seems to have included from the start the doctor's widowed mother, Mrs. Rebecca Temple Emmet, and his widowed sister-in-law, Mrs. Grace Russell Emmet, whose husband Thomas had died in 1754. Both women lived under the doctor's roof, even after the family moved to Dublin. Mrs. Rebecca Temple Emmet died in 1774, and Mrs. Grace Russell Emmet in 1788. Grace left a gold watch to her dear sister-in-law and ample legacies to the children, suggesting Elizabeth had a gift for winning the hearts of her husband's kin. As mistress of a large and wealthy household, she seems to have made all who gathered round her table happy. Elizabeth was soon busy in her nursery. In 1761, her first-born son, Christopher Temple Emmet, arrived. The boy was destined, like Cuchullin, to a great name and a short life. He died at only 28, but he had already impressed his contemporaries as one of the most brilliant men of his time. Grattan, who disliked the Emmets intensely because they had the courage of their convictions while he favoured compromise, left on record his opinion of Temple Emmet.

13. Emmet defends O'Driscoll at Cork assizes on sedition charge

    Cork · city · Cork · 1793

    In 1793 Thomas Addis Emmet, alongside the Sheareses and Leonard MacNally, defended a Mr. O'Driscoll at Cork assizes on a charge of seditious libel, a case that contributed to his rapid rise at the Bar.

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    Other notable cases in which Emmet was engaged included the trial at Tralee in 1793 of Lieutenant Carr who had shot a Mr. O’Connell in a duel, and the trial of a Mr. O’Driscoll, at Cork assizes in the same year, on a charge of seditious libel. In this case Emmet was associated with the Sheareses and Leonard MacNally. So successful was he, according to his cousin, St. John Mason’s statement to Dr. Madden, that the first year of his practice he realised £700.

    In 1795 he took the oath of the _United Irishmen_ under very sensational circumstances, thus detailed by Madden: “A case occurred before Prime Serjeant Fitzgerald, in which a conviction was obtained on a charge of administering the United Irishmen’s oath, then a capital offence. Emmet appeared for the prisoners on a motion in arrest of judgment. He took up the pleadings in which the words of the oath were recited, and he read them in a very deliberate manner, and with all the gravity of a man who felt that he was binding his soul by the obligations of a solemn oath. ‘I, Thomas Addis Emmet, in the presence of God, do pledge myself to my country that I will use all my abilities and influence in the attainment of an impartial and adequate representation of the Irish nation in parliament; and as a means and absolute and immediate necessity in the establishment of this chief good of Ireland, I will endeavour, as much as lies in my ability, to forward a brotherhood of affection, an identity of interests, a communion of rights and an union of power, among Irishmen of all religious persuasions, without which, every reform in parliament must be partial, not national, inadequate to the wants, delusive to the wishes, and insufficient to the freedom and happiness of this country.’

    Project Gutenberg #67720, Chapter 5

    As the companion tells it

    As you pass through Cork, this city holds a piece of Thomas Addis Emmet's early career at the Bar. In 1793, a Mr. O'Driscoll stood trial at the Cork assizes on a charge of seditious libel. Emmet defended him, working alongside the Sheareses and Leonard MacNally. The defence was so successful that, according to his cousin St. John Mason's statement to Dr. Madden, Emmet realised 700 pounds in his first year of practice. That same year he was also engaged in the trial at Tralee of Lieutenant Carr, who had shot a Mr. O'Connell in a duel. Two years later, in 1795, Emmet took the oath of the United Irishmen under circumstances Madden described as sensational. A case came before Prime Serjeant Fitzgerald in which a conviction was obtained on a charge of administering the United Irishmen's oath, then a capital offence. Emmet appeared for the prisoners on a motion in arrest of judgment. He took up the pleadings in which the words of the oath were recited, and read them in a deliberate manner, with all the gravity of a man who felt he was binding his soul by the obligations of a solemn oath. The words he read were: "I, Thomas Addis Emmet, in the presence of God, do pledge myself to my country that I will use all my abilities and influence in the attainment of an impartial and adequate representation of the Irish nation in parliament; and as a means and absolute and immediate necessity in the establishment of this chief good of Ireland, I will endeavour, as much as lies in my ability, to forward a brotherhood of affection, an identity of interests, a communion of rights and an union of power, among Irishmen of all religious persuasions, without which, every reform in parliament must be partial, not national, inadequate to the wants, delusive to the wishes, and insufficient to the freedom and happiness of this country."

14. First muslin woven in Belfast by John McCracken's firm

    near Belfast · city · Antrim · 1779

    An affidavit in the McCracken manuscripts proves the first piece of muslin ever woven in Belfast or its vicinity was woven by Thomas Burnside for John McCracken in January 1779, part of the family's manufacturing enterprise.

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    An affidavit preserved in the McCracken MSS. proves that “the first piece of muslin ever woven” in Belfast or its vicinage was woven by Thos. Burnside for John McCracken in January, 1779.

    Those were stirring times in which Mary McCracken grew to womanhood; and even a duller mind, than that which was housed in the fragile form of this little Belfast girl, must have been stimulated in the atmosphere of great ideas, which was her daily breathing. She was five years old when the Battle of Lexington was fought, and eleven when Cornwallis surrendered at Yorktown; and the great battles for liberty that marked the years from 1775 to 1781 were distant in space only from the rising city on the Lagan, which followed their fortunes with an interest so passionate. It was the war of liberation of their own flesh and blood which the Belfast men knew was being waged across the dividing Atlantic. It was the doctrines of civil and political freedom which had been borne in the emigrant ships from Ireland that were vindicated at Bunker’s Hill, at Trenton, at Princeton, at Saratoga. Is it to be wondered at, that, young as she was, Mary McCracken followed the story of the American War with a sympathy and understanding beyond her years? She was nine years old when the “armed men” who had sprung forth on Ireland’s soil from the sowed “dragon’s teeth” of England’s laws, formed in their splendid ranks on the Falls Road—the first Volunteers of Ireland. Her brother Frank was one of those who wore their gallant uniform. She was twelve years old when the Volunteer Convention at Dungannon made certain the granting of Grattan’s demands for the liberty of the Irish Parliament. She was ripe enough to apprehend the lessons contained in the failure of that Parliament and to trace it to its true origin. She was nineteen when the great news came from Paris, and Liberty sprang forth full armed to claim the world, from the mighty ruins of the Bastille.

    Project Gutenberg #67720, Chapter 5

    As the companion tells it

    Belfast holds a quiet first. An affidavit preserved in the McCracken manuscripts proves that the first piece of muslin ever woven in the city or its vicinage was woven by Thomas Burnside for John McCracken in January 1779. Those were stirring times in which Mary McCracken grew to womanhood. The city on the Lagan followed the American War with passionate interest. She was five years old when the Battle of Lexington was fought, and eleven when Cornwallis surrendered at Yorktown. The great battles for liberty that marked the years from 1775 to 1781 were distant in space only from the rising city. It was the war of liberation of their own flesh and blood which the men of the city knew was being waged across the dividing Atlantic. The doctrines of civil and political freedom which had been borne in the emigrant ships from Ireland were vindicated at Bunker's Hill, at Trenton, at Princeton, at Saratoga. Young as she was, Mary McCracken followed the story of the American War with a sympathy and understanding beyond her years. She was nine when the armed men who had sprung forth on Ireland's soil from the sowed dragon's teeth of England's laws formed in their splendid ranks on the Falls Road, the first Volunteers of Ireland. Her brother Frank was one of those who wore their gallant uniform. She was twelve when the Volunteer Convention at Dungannon made certain the granting of Grattan's demands for the liberty of the Irish Parliament. She was ripe enough to apprehend the lessons contained in the failure of that Parliament and to trace it to its true origin. She was nineteen when the great news came from Paris, and Liberty sprang forth full armed to claim the world, from the mighty ruins of the Bastille.

15. Pamela and Lord Edward at Frescati, Blackrock

    Blackrock · townland · Dublin · 1793–1794

    After their arrival in Ireland, the young couple spent a few months at the Duchess of Leinster's seaside residence Frescati in Blackrock, where Pamela had opportunity to practise gardening with her husband.

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    The attitude of the women of her class whom she met in society, probably spoiled her party-going for her, and doubtless she was eager enough, before long, to share with her husband the quiet country life, which he loved so well. After a few months in the Duchess of Leinster’s charming seaside residence, Frescati, Blackrock (where Pamela had plenty of opportunity, in conjunction with the enthusiastic gardener, who was her husband, to put into practice the gardening lore she had acquired at Saint Leu) the young couple settled in a lodge belonging to Mr. Connolly (husband of Lady Louisa Connolly, Lord Edward’s aunt), in Kildare. Lord Edward has left in a letter to his mother, dated June 23rd, 1794, a charming description of the place, which was to be the setting for their lives during the short years that were destined for them to spend together. In that little cottage a good deal of Irish history was to be made in the short space of four years. Let us then look in it as Lord Edward has painted it for us—for, alas! no trace of it now remains.

    “After going up a little lane, and in at a close gate, you come on a little white house, with a small gravel court before it. You see but three small windows, the court surrounded by large old elms; one side of the house covered with shrubs, on the other side a tolerable large ash; upon the stairs going up to the house, two wicker cages, in which there are at this moment two thrushes, singing _à gorge déployée_. In coming into the house you find a small passage-hall very clean, the floor tiled; upon your left a small room; on the right, the staircase. In front you come into the parlour, a good room, with a bay window looking into the garden, which is a small green plot, surrounded by good trees, and in it three of the finest thorns I ever saw, and all the trees so placed that you may shade yourself from the sun all hours of the day; the bay window covered with honeysuckle, and up to the window some roses.

    Project Gutenberg #67720, Chapter 5

    As the companion tells it

    Somewhere close to Blackrock stood Frescati, the Duchess of Leinster's charming seaside residence. After arriving in Ireland, Pamela and Lord Edward Fitzgerald spent a few months here, around 1793 to 1794. The women of her class whom Pamela met in society probably spoiled party-going for her, and she was eager before long to share with her husband the quiet country life he loved so well. At Frescati, Pamela had plenty of opportunity to put into practice the gardening lore she had acquired at Saint Leu, gardening in conjunction with her husband, who was an enthusiastic gardener. After those months by the sea, the young couple settled in a lodge in Kildare belonging to Mr. Connolly, husband of Lady Louisa Connolly, Lord Edward's aunt. Lord Edward described that place in a letter to his mother dated June 23rd, 1794. He wrote of a little white house with a small gravel court before it, surrounded by large old elms, one side covered with shrubs, on the other a large ash. Two thrushes sang in wicker cages on the stairs going up to the house. Inside, a small passage-hall with a tiled floor led to a parlour with a bay window looking into a small green garden, surrounded by good trees, with three of the finest thorns he ever saw. The bay window was covered with honeysuckle, and roses grew up to it. A good deal of Irish history was made in that cottage in four short years. No trace of it now remains.

16. Walks and Readings on the Curragh

    near The Curragh · locality · Kildare · 1796–1798

    During winter days, Lady Lucy and companions took long walks on the Curragh, or when weather prevented outdoor excursions, occupied themselves with patriotic emblems and readings such as 'Julius Cæsar' and Volney's 'Ruins'.

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    She spent much time with Lord Edward and Pamela at Kildare Lodge, and her Journal, from which Mr. Campbell has published some extracts, gives us vivid glimpses of the habitués of that hospitable home. Among these, Arthur O’Connor figures prominently, and one cannot help feeling that Lady Lucy had a romantic interest in that most aristocratic of all “democrats.” The winter days were devoted to long walks on the Curragh, or if the weather prevented out-door excursions, to sticking pocket-books with emblems, or hearing Arthur O’Connor read “Julius Cæsar,” or Volney’s “Ruins”; the winter evenings were delightfully divided between dancing and singing patriotic songs. Once she records “a large patriotic dinner,” at which were present, “Dr. MacNevin, Connolly, Mr. Hughes (a Northern, and Edward says a very sensible man), a Mr. Jackson, an iron manufacturer, a Mr. Bond, a great merchant, one of the handsomest and most delightful men to all appearance that ever was, and a Presbyterian clergyman, called Barber, a venerable old man who had been forced by persecution to fly his Diocese where he had lived 30 years.”

    Lady Lucy little suspected that the Northern Mr. Hughes, whom Edward considered so “sensible,” was a Government spy—any more than she suspected that all her own correspondence after her return to London was carefully watched by Government. The mysterious “friend” of her cousin, Lord Downshire (whom Fitzpatrick finally succeeded in identifying with Samuel Turner, of Lurgan), told his patron that the communications of the Irish in Hamburg (who were negotiating there for French aid), with their friends at home were established through the medium of Mme. Matthiesen (Pamela’s cousin, Henriette de Sercey), Lady Sarah and Pamela. The letters were sent by Madame Matthiesen from Hamburg, to Lady Lucy in London—and by Lady Lucy conveyed to Pamela. “All letters to or from Lady Lucy Fitzgerald,” wrote the spy to Lord Downshire, “ought to be inspected.” No doubt this advice was acted upon, and poor unsuspecting Lady Lucy’s correspondence received due attention.

    Project Gutenberg #67720, Chapter 9

    As the companion tells it

    As you travel through the Curragh in Kildare, this is the open plain where Lady Lucy Fitzgerald took long winter walks between 1796 and 1798. She was staying at Kildare Lodge with Lord Edward and Pamela, and she seems to have had a romantic interest in Arthur O'Connor, whom she saw often. On days the weather kept them indoors, O'Connor read "Julius Cæsar" or Volney's "Ruins" aloud, and they decorated pocket-books with patriotic emblems. Evenings were given to dancing and patriotic songs. She records one large patriotic dinner with Dr. MacNevin, Connolly, a Mr. Jackson, an iron manufacturer, a Mr. Bond, a great merchant, and a Presbyterian clergyman called Barber, a venerable old man forced by persecution to flee his diocese after 30 years. There was also a Mr. Hughes from the North, whom Lord Edward called "a very sensible man." Lady Lucy had no idea Hughes was a Government spy. She also didn't know her own correspondence was being watched after she returned to London. The Irish in Hamburg, negotiating for French aid, sent letters home through Madame Matthiesen, Pamela's cousin Henriette de Sercey, to Lady Lucy, who passed them to Pamela. A spy told Lord Downshire that "All letters to or from Lady Lucy Fitzgerald ought to be inspected," and no doubt they were.

17. Aspiration to reunite Matilda Tone with her husband at Bodenstown

    Bodenstown · townland · Kildare · 1798

    The author expresses hope that Ireland will one day reclaim Matilda Tone's remains from America and lay them to rest beside her husband, Wolfe Tone, in his grave in Bodenstown Churchyard. This reflects the enduring symbolic importance of Tone's burial site.

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    Shall the day ever come when Ireland a Nation, remembering this woman and all she suffered for her, shall claim her remains from America, and lay them to rest in the place where her husband lies lonely: in his green grave in Bodenstown Churchyard?

    ------------------------------------------------------------------------

    Project Gutenberg #67720, Chapter 5

    As the companion tells it

    Somewhere around here lies Wolfe Tone, in his green grave in Bodenstown Churchyard. His wife Matilda died in America, far from him. The hope is that Ireland one day reclaims her remains and lays them to rest beside her husband, who lies lonely here.

18. Dr Carolan's hospitable household in Carrickmacross

    Carrickmacross · town · Monaghan

    Charles Teeling's romance with Catherine Carolan connects to her father Dr James Carolan's hospitable house in Carrickmacross, visited by the harper Arthur O'Neill and noted for its religious and artistic culture.

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    Charles Teeling, with a delicate reticence which is characteristic, has merely hinted at his own romance, and said nothing of his brother’s. The object of Charles’s devotion was Miss Catherine Carolan, daughter of Dr. James Carolan, of Carrickmacross. The glimpses we get of the Carolans are interesting, and make us long to know more of them. The celebrated harper, Arthur O’Neill, tells us of a visit he paid to Dr. Carolan’s hospitable house in Carrickmacross, when he was on his bardic rounds; and Mr. Denis Carolan Rushe, the doctor’s descendant, has in his possession a copy of a religious rule of life, drawn up for her own observance by another daughter of the Doctor’s, a sister of Catherine’s. These two facts indicate a household where all the best characteristics of true Irish Catholic gentlefolk—their hospitality, their love for, and generous patronage of art, their deep sense of religion—were carefully cultivated.

    Of Bartle Teeling’s devotion to Lady Lucy Fitzgerald, and of the ring she gave him, we have already spoken elsewhere.

    Project Gutenberg #67720, Chapter 15

    As the companion tells it

    Carrickmacross was the home of Dr James Carolan, and his household was one people remembered. Charles Teeling's devotion was to Catherine Carolan, the doctor's daughter. He hinted at the romance himself, with what is called a delicate reticence, but said no more. Arthur O'Neill, the celebrated harper, tells of a visit he paid to Dr Carolan's hospitable house here when he was on his bardic rounds. And Denis Carolan Rushe, the doctor's descendant, had in his possession a copy of a religious rule of life, drawn up for her own observance by another daughter of the doctor's, a sister of Catherine's. These two traces, the harper's visit and the sister's rule, point to a household where the best qualities of Irish Catholic gentlefolk were carefully cultivated: their hospitality, their love and generous patronage of art, and their deep sense of religion.

19. Dr Emmet's Country Retreat at Casino, Milltown

    Milltown · townland · Dublin · 1798

    In 1798 Dr Emmet let his houses in Stephen's Green and moved his family, including his grandchildren, to Casino, a country house he had purchased at Milltown, located near Bird Avenue between Milltown and Windy Arbour.

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    In this year Dr. Emmet set the houses in Stephen’s Green, and took up his residence with his family (which now included his grandchildren) in a country house he had recently purchased for himself, Casino, Milltown. This historic house still stands, and Mr. Reynolds’s indications make it easy to locate: “at the corner of Bird Avenue on the eastern side of the Dundrum Road, midway between Milltown and Windy Arbour.”

    Two events of much importance mark the following year (1799) in Elizabeth Emmet’s maternal calendar. The first was the removal of Thomas Addis and the other State prisoners to Fort George in the North of Scotland; the second was the marriage of her daughter, Mary Anne, to the distinguished barrister, Robert Holmes.

    Project Gutenberg #67720, Chapter 2

    As the companion tells it

    Somewhere around here, in 1798, Dr. Emmet let his houses in Stephen's Green and moved his family, now including his grandchildren, to a country house he had recently purchased for himself. Its name was Casino. The house stood at the corner of Bird Avenue on the eastern side of the Dundrum Road, midway between Milltown and Windy Arbour, and it was still standing when the book that records this was written. The year after the move, two things shaped Elizabeth Emmet's life as a mother. Thomas Addis and the other State prisoners were taken to Fort George in the north of Scotland. And her daughter Mary Anne married the barrister Robert Holmes.

20. Emmet children left at their grandparents' home, Casino, Milltown

    Milltown · townland · Dublin · 1800

    When Jane Emmet travelled to join her husband at Fort George in August 1800, she left her three younger children, John Patten, Thomas Addis and baby Christopher, in the care of their grandparents, Dr. and Mrs. Emmet, at Casino, Milltown.

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    As may be expected, Jane Emmet made every effort to obtain permission to join her husband in Fort George, and her hopes of success were stimulated by the fact that others of the State prisoners, especially Roger O’Connor, were allowed to have their families with them. The Irish Government, however—in other words, Lord Castlereagh—put every obstacle in her way, and it was only when she made personal application to the Duke of Portland that she obtained the consent she sought. In August, 1800, escorted by her brother, John Patten, and accompanied by her three elder children, Robert, Margaret and Elizabeth, she arrived in Fort George. She left her three younger children, John Patten, Thomas Addis and baby Christopher, in the charge of their grandfather and grandmother, Dr. and Mrs. Emmet, at Casino, Milltown.

    The son of one of the little boys thus left behind has culled for us from the family correspondence the letters written by old Mrs. Emmet to her son and daughter-in-law in Fort George, and though the regrettable loss of the letters of Thomas Addis to his parents and those of Jane Emmet to her mother, Mrs. Patten, leaves the correspondence incomplete, nevertheless sufficient remains to help us to make a connected story.

    Project Gutenberg #67720, Chapter 5

    As the companion tells it

    Somewhere around here is Casino, where Dr. and Mrs. Emmet took in their three youngest grandchildren in August 1800. Their daughter-in-law Jane Emmet had fought hard for permission to join her husband at Fort George. The Irish Government, under Lord Castlereagh, put every obstacle in her way. Other state prisoners, like Roger O'Connor, had been allowed to have their families with them, which gave Jane hope. It was only when she made a personal application to the Duke of Portland that she finally obtained consent. Escorted by her brother, John Patten, and accompanied by her three elder children, Robert, Margaret and Elizabeth, she arrived at Fort George. She left behind her three younger children, John Patten, Thomas Addis, and baby Christopher, in the charge of Dr. and Mrs. Emmet at Casino. The son of one of those little boys left behind later gathered letters from the family correspondence, letters written by old Mrs. Emmet to her son and daughter-in-law in Fort George. The loss of letters from Thomas Addis to his parents, and from Jane Emmet to her mother, Mrs. Patten, leaves the record incomplete, but enough remains to tell a connected story.

21. Freeholders' Meeting at Ballymena Petitions the King

    near Ballymena · town · Antrim · 1797

    Luke Teeling acted as Secretary of a meeting of the Freeholders of Co. Antrim convened at Ballymena on May 8th, 1797, from which a Petition was sent to the King setting out grievances and requesting dismissal of responsible ministers.

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    In the meantime all sorts of misfortunes had befallen the happy household on Church Hill. Some months after the arrest of Charles, the Orangemen, in broad daylight, had entered Mr. Teeling’s premises, wrecked his bleach-yard, looted his house, and in the course of a few hours’ deliberate devastation left the entire establishment “a desolate ruin.” And all this, as Charles points out in his narrative, “in the blush of open day, within the immediate vicinity of two garrisoned towns, an active magistrate, and an armed police.” It is quite clear that the Orangemen were the agents of vengeance of the Government, who thus designed to punish Mr. Teeling’s temerity in acting as Secretary of a meeting of the Freeholders of Co. Antrim, convened by public notice at Ballymena on May 8th, 1797, from which had gone forth a Petition to the King setting forth the intolerable grievances under which the Irish people were suffering, and praying his Majesty to dismiss the ministers responsible for them.

    As their lives were no longer safe in Lisburn, Mr. Teeling moved his family to Union Lodge, near Dundalk, which had been previously used by Bartle as his headquarters, But even here they were not safe. He got private notice from a well-wisher that he was about to be arrested. He, therefore, found an asylum for Mrs. Teeling and the girls with her brother, Mr. John Taaffe, at Smarmore Castle, Ardee, while he looked around him to make fresh provision for them.

    Project Gutenberg #67720, Chapter 3

    As the companion tells it

    The town of Ballymena in Antrim was where, on May 8th, 1797, a meeting of the Freeholders of County Antrim was convened by public notice. Luke Teeling acted as Secretary. From that meeting a Petition went to the King, setting forth the intolerable grievances under which the Irish people were suffering and praying his Majesty to dismiss the ministers responsible for them. The price for Teeling's role was severe. Orangemen entered his premises in broad daylight and wrecked his bleach-yard, looted his house, and in a few hours of deliberate devastation left the entire establishment, in the words of the narrative, "a desolate ruin." Charles Teeling points out that this happened "in the blush of open day, within the immediate vicinity of two garrisoned towns, an active magistrate, and an armed police." The Orangemen, he says, were agents of vengeance for the Government, punishing Teeling's temerity in acting as Secretary of the meeting. As their lives were no longer safe in Lisburn, Teeling moved his family to Union Lodge, near Dundalk. Even there they were not safe. He got private notice from a well-wisher that he was about to be arrested. He found asylum for Mrs. Teeling and the girls with her brother, Mr. John Taaffe, at Smarmore Castle, Ardee, while he looked around to make fresh provision for them.

22. Marriage of Luke Teeling and Mary Taaffe at Ardee

    Ardee · townland · Louth · 1771

    Luke Teeling, apprenticed in the linen trade in Lisburn, fell in love with his young cousin Mary Taaffe while visiting Ardee, and the couple married there on April 6th, 1771.

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    As is so often the case with serious-minded young men, there was a strong, if hidden, vein of romance in Luke Teeling’s nature, and he soon discovered that he had lost his heart irrevocably, to his pretty cousin, Mary. She was young, hardly more than a child at the time, and her father was loth to part with his little maid so soon; but he recognised the sterling qualities of her suitor and gave his consent to an engagement, which terminated in the marriage of the young couple at Ardee on April 6th, 1771.

    There had been an old connection between the Taaffes and the Teelings, and we learn from Bartholomew Teeling’s Memoir of his uncle that Luke Teeling’s mother was of the house of Taaffe. After the record of the marriage of Luke and Mary (still kept at Smarmore Castle) the words are inserted, “obtenta dispensatione in consanguinitate.”

    Project Gutenberg #67720, Chapter 3

    As the companion tells it

    Somewhere close to Ardee, Luke Teeling married Mary Taaffe on April 6th, 1771. He was apprenticed in the linen trade in Lisburn, but visiting Ardee he lost his heart to his pretty young cousin Mary. She was hardly more than a child, and her father was loth to part with his little maid so soon. But he recognised the sterling qualities of her suitor and gave his consent. There was an old connection between the Taaffes and the Teelings. Bartholomew Teeling's Memoir of his uncle tells us that Luke Teeling's mother was of the house of Taaffe. The marriage record is still kept at Smarmore Castle, and after it the words are inserted, "obtenta dispensatione in consanguinitate" — a dispensation was obtained for their blood relation.

23. Mary Teeling's Elegant Home on Church Hill, Lisburn

    near Lisburn · town · Antrim · 1782–1796

    In 1782 Luke Teeling built a residence on Church Hill in Lisburn befitting his wealth, where the family lived happily for over a decade, hosting frequent guests including business correspondents, relatives, and young officers from the nearby camp.

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    Fortunate families, like fortunate nations, “have no history,” and there is little to record of Mary Teeling during the years when her boys and girls were growing up. In 1782 her husband acquired the lease of some building ground on Church Hill and built a residence for his family in keeping with his wealth and position; and a decade and a half of happy years passed swiftly under its dignified roof. The large family party which gathered permanently round the Teelings’ board was seldom without a reinforcement of guests: business correspondents like Mr. Sam Wall, of Worcester, or merchants from Dublin and Belfast, were sure of a hearty welcome there. Old Mr. George Taaffe loved to come from Ardee, and spend a month or two with his beloved grandchildren. Aunt “Ally” Lynch from Drogheda, and kind Uncle James were frequent visitors. The elder boys, Bartle and George and Charles, who were attending Mr. Saumarez Dubourdieu’s famous classical school in the town, had frequent permission to bring home their schoolfellows to dinner or supper, and Mrs. Teeling’s “parties” were voted the most delightful in Lisburn. As the boys grew older other guests were much in evidence—young officers from the camp at Blaris-Moor with whom the Teeling lads fenced, or went fishing or shooting, or rode to hounds, liked to be asked when the day’s sport was over to accompany them to the hospitable mansion on Church Hill, where a pleasant supper and a dance would wind up many a delightful evening. The Teelings were noted horsemen—an hereditary trait. The writer in _The Gentlemen’s Magazine_, having quoted the younger Bartholomew Teeling’s description of his father and uncles as “the best horsemen and the most accomplished swordsmen in the province,” tells us that the Teelings “were proverbial for their love of small, perfectly shaped, high-bred horses,” and refers to stories, still current in the County of Meath, of the incredibly short time in which they used to ride from their home to Dublin, on their beautiful little horses.

    “White with green facings their retainers did wear And the young cavaliers were beloved of the fair.”[47]

    Project Gutenberg #67720, Chapter 3

    As the companion tells it

    There is a place in this town where the Teelings lived, a house on Church Hill that Luke Teeling built in 1782, when he took the lease of building ground and raised a residence fitting his wealth and standing. For a decade and a half, happy years passed under its roof. The family table was never small. A large household gathered there, and guests came often. Business correspondents like Mr. Sam Wall of Worcester found a hearty welcome, along with merchants from Dublin and Belfast. Old Mr. George Taaffe would come from Ardee and stay a month or two with his grandchildren. Aunt Ally Lynch came from Drogheda, and kind Uncle James was a frequent visitor. The elder boys, Bartle and George and Charles, attended Mr. Saumarez Dubourdieu's classical school in the town, and often brought schoolfellows home to dinner or supper. Mrs. Teeling's parties were called the most delightful around. As the boys grew older, young officers from the camp at Blaris-Moor appeared often. They fenced with the Teeling lads, or went fishing or shooting, or rode to hounds, and when the day's sport was done they would come back to the house on Church Hill, where a pleasant supper and a dance finished many an evening. The Teelings were noted horsemen. A writer in The Gentlemen's Magazine quoted the younger Bartholomew Teeling's words about his father and uncles, calling them the best horsemen and the most accomplished swordsmen in the province. The family was proverbial, it was said, for their love of small, perfectly shaped, high-bred horses, and stories were still told in County Meath of the incredibly short time in which they rode from home to Dublin on their beautiful little horses.

24. Sheares family later residence at Glasheen

    Glasheen · townland · Cork

    At a later date the Sheares family lived at Glasheen, about a mile and a half from Cork, while also maintaining a house in the city.

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    The poor old lady, on whom the diabolical treachery of the guest of that Sunday dinner-party was to bring such suffering that the whole annals of “’Ninety-Eight” have nothing to surpass it, had already tasted in a fuller measure, than is the lot of common women, the joys and the sorrows of life. The near kinswoman of the distinguished lawyer, Sergeant Bettesworth, and a relation of the Earl of Shannon, she had been married, while still very young, to a wealthy Cork banker, Mr. Henry Sheares, son of Henry Sheares, Esq., M.P., of Goldenbush. At Goldenbush, by the pleasant Bandon river, the young couple resided for some time, and here a number of their children were born. But at a later date the family lived at Glasheen, about a mile and a half from Cork, and their abundant means allowed them to keep up another establishment in the city—a house which has been identified by Dr. Madden as situated at the corner of Moore Street and Nile Street.

    The young wife was highly accomplished, and it is rare to find a couple so perfectly matched, as were she and her husband, in every noble quality of heart and mind. She entered into his philanthropic schemes with the greatest zeal. Out of the abundance with which God had blessed them it was their joy to help all those in need. One of the spectacles which moved their compassion most keenly was that of decent poor people who, having fallen into debt, were by the barbarous law of the time, liable to be hauled off to prison for it, and to be herded with criminals, by whom they were too frequently contaminated. To help these unfortunates, whose only crime was poverty, Mr. Sheares instituted “the Society for the Relief of Persons Confined for Small Debts,” and in about nine months the secretary, Rev. Dr. Pigott, was able to report that “more than seventy poor wretches have been relieved by this institution from the depths of misery, and all the horrors of loathsome confinement—by which, at the same time, above 240 children (besides wives and other poor dependent relations) have had those restored to them from whose labour they derive their bread, and the community has been enriched by the replacing of many useful and industrious members.”

    Project Gutenberg #67720, Chapter 3

    As the companion tells it

    Somewhere around here, the Sheares family made their home at a later date, about a mile and a half from Cork. Their abundant means let them keep a second establishment in the city too, a house at the corner of Moore Street and Nile Street, identified by Dr. Madden. The wife had married young. She was a wealthy Cork banker's wife, married to Mr. Henry Sheares, son of Henry Sheares, Esq., M.P., of Goldenbush. She was the near kinswoman of Sergeant Bettesworth and a relation of the Earl of Shannon. Before Glasheen, the young couple had lived at Goldenbush, by the pleasant Bandon river, where a number of their children were born.

25. The Tones settle in Clarendon Street, Dublin

    Clarendon Street · street · Dublin · 1789

    After a stay with Mr. Fanning in Grafton Street, the Tones took up residence in Clarendon Street, where Theobald was called to the Bar and began his political career.

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    They left Blackhall after New Year’s Day, 1789, and after a short stay with Mr. Fanning in Grafton Street, took up their residence in Clarendon Street. Theobald was soon after called to the Bar, and went circuit in Leinster. His success was surprising—especially to himself who considered that he knew exactly as much of law as he did of necromancy. “I was, modestly speaking,” he confesses in his pleasant way, “one of the most ignorant barristers in the Four Courts.” But it is plain that if he had cared to succeed he could have succeeded brilliantly.

    As it was, he soon gave up law for politics—his first venture in which was a pamphlet in the interests of the Whig Club. This procured for him the favour of Grattan, Forbes and Ponsonby, and put a little profitable law business in his way. But the prospects which were held out to him of a seat in Parliament did not materialise; and very soon, Tone, whose opinions matured rapidly under an “intensive” method of political culture, found he had so far outgrown “Whig” principles that he could enter into no alliance with them. Briefly put, the points of difference were these: Tone held that “the influence of England was the radical vice of the Irish Government, and consequently that Ireland would never be either free, prosperous or happy until she was independent, and that independence was unobtainable whilst the connection with England existed.” Grattan and those who thought with him were attached to the connection with England, and considered that if certain grievances (which they could not see were inherent in the system) were removed, all would be for the best, in the best of all possible worlds. In the illumination of his discovery Tone “began to look on the little politics of the Whig Club with great contempt: _their peddling about petty grievances instead of going to the root of the evil_,” and he rejoiced that with his poverty he had kept his independence and could develop his political creed without being bound by the tenets of the Whigs.

    Project Gutenberg #67720, Chapter 4

    As the companion tells it

    Clarendon Street in Dublin is where the Tone family made their home after leaving Blackhall, just past New Year's Day in 1789. They stayed first with Mr. Fanning in Grafton Street, then settled on Clarendon Street. Theobald Wolfe Tone was called to the Bar soon after and went circuit in Leinster. His success was surprising, especially to himself, since he reckoned he knew as much of law as he did of necromancy. In his own words, he was, "one of the most ignorant barristers in the Four Courts." Yet it is plain he could have succeeded brilliantly had he cared to. He soon gave up law for politics. His first move was a pamphlet written for the Whig Club, which won him the favour of Grattan, Forbes, and Ponsonby, and brought some profitable law business his way. But the seat in Parliament that was held out to him never came. Tone's opinions matured quickly. He found he had outgrown Whig principles entirely. He believed the influence of England was the radical vice of the Irish Government, and that Ireland would never be free, prosperous, or happy until she was independent. Independence, he held, was unobtainable while the connection with England lasted. Grattan and those who thought like him were attached to that connection and believed that if certain grievances were removed, all would be well. Tone began to look on the little politics of the Whig Club with great contempt, their peddling about petty grievances instead of going to the root of the evil. He rejoiced that with his poverty he had kept his independence and could develop his political creed without being bound by the tenets of the Whigs.

26. William Neilson's Education at Belfast Academical Institution

    near Belfast · city · Antrim

    William Bryson Neilson, after his remarkable education at Fort George, attended the Academical Institution in Belfast before embarking on a brilliant commercial career cut short by his death from yellow fever in Jamaica.

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    There remains only to tell, as briefly as may be, the story of her children, for of this woman, in a special degree it is true to say, that she has no history but the history of her husband and family. Poor William, whom we have learned to love as dearly as any of his masters in Fort George, lived long enough to show the fruits of the remarkable education he had received there—but alas! not long enough to confer on his country the benefits which all those who knew him expected from him. After a brilliant course at the Academical Institution, Belfast, he embraced a commercial career, where his splendid talents ensured for him a speedy success. His employers described him as “a young man of the most splendid talents we have ever known; there was no subject in mercantile affairs that he could not make himself master of. In public affairs he soon became conspicuous, and had he lived he would have been an ornament to his country.”

    Alas! his career was cut by his death from yellow fever in Jamaica on February 7th, 1817.

    Project Gutenberg #67720, Chapter 5

    As the companion tells it

    As you pass through Belfast, this city was where William Bryson Neilson studied at the Academical Institution. He came here after a remarkable education at Fort George, and the fruits of that education showed themselves in his brilliant course at the Institution. He then embraced a commercial career, and his talents brought him speedy success. His employers described him as "a young man of the most splendid talents we have ever known; there was no subject in mercantile affairs that he could not make himself master of." He became conspicuous in public affairs, and those who knew him expected great benefits for his country. But he did not live to deliver them. He died of yellow fever in Jamaica on February 7, 1817, his career cut short before he could become what all who knew him believed he would be, an ornament to his country.

27. Henry Joy McCracken's cotton factory on the Falls Road

    near Falls Road · locality · Antrim

    Henry Joy McCracken left the family home to take up quarters on the Falls Road near the cotton factory, marking the first break in the close-knit McCracken household.

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    The first break in “Noah’s Ark” took place when Harry left home to take up his quarters on the Falls Road near the cotton factory. About the same time the female members of the family, Mrs. McCracken, Margaret and Mary Anne, commenced, on a somewhat more extended scale, the business of muslin manufacturers, in which John McCracken had already been interested since 1779.[86] Her grandniece informs us that “Mary was the moving spirit of the business, and worked early and late. She has said that so closely confined was she at times that, when going to the post-office before breakfast, she felt inclined to leap and dance with delight in the fresh morning air. Her chief object in trying to make money was that she might have some of her own to give away as she wished. She was of a very sanguine temperament and did not spare herself, and to some extent she succeeded in her object; but, perhaps the times were against her. She had much struggling and anxiety, and the ultimate result was disappointing.”

    Footnote 86:

    Project Gutenberg #67720, Chapter 5

    As the companion tells it

    The Falls Road was where Henry Joy McCracken made his first break from the family home they called Noah's Ark. He left to take up quarters near the cotton factory there, and the household the McCrackens had kept close-knit began to come apart. About the same time, the women of the family, Mrs. McCracken, Margaret, and Mary Anne, started a muslin manufacturing business on a larger scale. John McCracken had already been involved in muslin since 1779. Mary was the moving spirit of the business, and worked early and late. She said that so closely confined was she at times that, when going to the post-office before breakfast, she felt inclined to leap and dance with delight in the fresh morning air. Her chief object in trying to make money was that she might have some of her own to give away as she wished. She was of a very sanguine temperament and did not spare herself, and to some extent she succeeded, but perhaps the times were against her. She had much struggling and anxiety, and the ultimate result was disappointing.

28. Henry Sheares senior as MP for Clonakilty

    Clonakilty · town · Cork · 1761–1767

    Henry Sheares (father) sat as member of Parliament for the borough of Clonakilty, in the patronage of his wife's kinsman the Earl of Shannon, in the Irish House of Commons from 1761 to 1767.

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    We have already spoken of the culture which marked the merchant princes of Cork in the eighteenth century. Even in their cultured ranks Mr. Henry Sheares stood prominently forth. He was a clever writer, and his contributions over the pen-name “Agricola,” to the Cork periodicals of his day were keenly appreciated by their readers. It was held by some of them that “no moralist—not even Mr. Addison—excelled him in the composition” of the little moral essay, which was his favourite vehicle of instruction. Two of his essays, one “On Forgiveness,” the other “On Man in Society, and at His Final Separation from it,” are reproduced by Madden; and they show, beneath the somewhat stilted and formal style which was so much to the taste of their day—and so little to that of ours—a depth of religion, feeling, a noble philosophy of life which can never be out of date. He was the founder of a Club, somewhat in “the Spectator” style, “where popular and literary subjects were debated, and his speeches at this Club were long remembered by his friends as pleasing memorials of great historical knowledge, a fine taste and graceful elocution.” He sat as member of Parliament for the borough of Clonakilty—which was in the patronage of his wife’s kinsman, the Earl of Shannon—in the Irish House of Commons from 1761 to 1767; and the _Parliamentary Debates_ for these years show that he took an active part in the proceedings of the House.

    Mr. Sheares died in 1776, leaving his widow and family in very comfortable circumstances. Nine children are mentioned in his will: Henry, Robert Bettesworth, Richard, John, and Christopher Humphrey; Letitia, Mary, Jane Anne Bettesworth, and Julia. Of these it was their mother’s tragic fate to survive all but the youngest, Julia.

    Project Gutenberg #67720, Chapter 3

    As the companion tells it

    As you pass through Clonakilty, this is the town that sent Henry Sheares to Parliament. He sat as member for this borough in the Irish House of Commons from 1761 to 1767, through the patronage of his wife's kinsman, the Earl of Shannon. The Parliamentary Debates for those years show he took an active part in the proceedings of the House. Sheares was one of the merchant princes of Cork, a class marked by culture in the eighteenth century, and he stood out even among them. He wrote under the pen-name Agricola for the Cork periodicals of his day, and his readers keenly appreciated his work. Some held that, in the words of the source, "no moralist—not even Mr. Addison—excelled him in the composition" of the moral essay, his favourite form. Madden reproduced two of his essays, one On Forgiveness, the other On Man in Society, and at His Final Separation from it. Beneath the formal style of their time, they show a depth of religion and feeling and a noble philosophy of life. He also founded a Club in the Spectator style, where popular and literary subjects were debated. His friends long remembered his speeches there as, in the source's words, "pleasing memorials of great historical knowledge, a fine taste and graceful elocution." He died in 1776, leaving his widow and family in comfortable circumstances. Nine children are mentioned in his will: Henry, Robert Bettesworth, Richard, John, and Christopher Humphrey, and Letitia, Mary, Jane Anne Bettesworth, and Julia. Their mother's fate was to survive all but the youngest, Julia.

29. Luke Teeling Sent to Cushendall for Sea-Bathing

    Cushendall · townland · Antrim · 1798

    In the spring of 1798, Luke Teeling's health was so affected by his ruined fortune and exertions that his doctor sent him to Cushendall for sea-bathing. His frequent changes of abode were later used as evidence of treasonable activity by Government.

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    All this time Mary Teeling was without news of him, and to the burden which she already had to bear was added that of intolerable anxiety for her eldest son, and great uneasiness about Charles, of whose health his father brought back discouraging reports from his visits to Kilmainham. The kindness of her brother John and his wife Catherine, and the hospitality they so gladly offered her and her girls, could not make her forget the wreck of her own beautiful home, and the irreparable damage done to her husband’s fortune. Moreover, his health was much affected by the condition of his affairs, and the fatigues he had undergone to re-establish them. A trip to a Donegal Spa, followed by a horseback journey to Connacht (where he hoped to establish a new bleach-green) had exhausted him, and in the spring of ’98, he had been sent by his doctor to Cushendall for sea-bathing. His frequent changes of abode were represented to Government as connected with treasonable activities, and accordingly on June 16th, 1798, he was arrested, and committed to prison in Belfast, no charge being made against him.

    For four years Luke Teeling was kept in prison, and was only liberated in 1802. And during all that time no charge was brought against him, nor did his repeated requests to be brought to trial bring any result. From the provost prison in Belfast, he was moved to the _Postlethwaite_ tender, lying in Belfast Lough, one of the prison ships which were among the horrors of the day; from that to Carrickfergus Castle, and finally back to the prison in Belfast. It has been my privilege to read many of the letters addressed by Luke Teeling from his various prisons to members of his family, and truly it was with a great stirring of the heart that one held them in one’s hands, and read the story they tell of sufferings heroically borne; of a devotion to honour and principle which counted no cost too great; of a Faith and Hope, and love of God and God’s Church intense enough to make the writer free of the ardent and heroic company of the saints. There is one letter written from the _Postlethwaite_, where the firm hand trembles, and the strong heart shows nigh to breaking—which it is impossible to read without tears. It is the letter in which the father writes to Bartle’s old friend, Sam Wall, the news of Bartle’s execution.

    Project Gutenberg #67720, Chapter 3

    As the companion tells it

    Somewhere around here, in the spring of 1798, a man came for the sea. Luke Teeling's health was broken. His fortune was ruined, and the efforts he had made to rebuild it had worn him down. He had already taken a trip to a Donegal spa, and then ridden on horseback to Connacht, where he hoped to establish a new bleach-green. That journey exhausted him. His doctor sent him here, to Cushendall, for sea-bathing. All this time his wife Mary had no news of him. She carried the weight of her own ruined home and the damage done to her husband's affairs. She was anxious for her eldest son, and uneasy about Charles, whose health brought back discouraging reports from Kilmainham. Her brother John and his wife Catherine had taken her and her girls in, and their kindness was real, but it could not undo what was lost. Luke Teeling's frequent changes of abode, the spa, the journey west, the stay here, were represented to Government as connected with treasonable activities. On June 16th, 1798, he was arrested and committed to prison in Belfast. No charge was made against him. He was kept in prison for four years, and was not liberated until 1802. No charge was ever brought. His repeated requests to be brought to trial brought no result. He was moved from the provost prison in Belfast to the Postlethwaite tender, lying in Belfast Lough, one of the prison ships that were among the horrors of the day. From there to Carrickfergus Castle, and finally back to the prison in Belfast. Letters he wrote from his various prisons to members of his family tell of sufferings borne, of devotion to honour and principle, of a faith intense enough to place the writer among the saints. One letter from the Postlethwaite, where the firm hand trembles, tells Sam Wall, Bartle's old friend, the news of Bartle's execution.

30. Picnic at Ram's Island, Lough Neagh

    Ram's Island · townland · Antrim · 1795

    During the same Belfast visit, the party enjoyed a pic-nic at Ram's Island on Lough Neagh, one of several happy excursions arranged by Belfast friends before the Tones' emigration to America.

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    The attentions of the kind friends in Dublin, great as they were, were far surpassed by those they found awaiting them in Belfast. The MacCrackens, the Simmses, the Neilsons, Dr. MacDonnell, and a host of others vied with each other in getting up entertainments for them; parties and excursions were the order of the day. Tone tells us of some of these in his Journal. He remembers particularly two days passed on Cave Hill. On the first, Russell, Neilson, Simms, MacCracken, and he climbed to McArt’s fort and took a solemn obligation never to desist in their efforts until they had subverted the authority of England, over their country, and asserted their independence. Another day they had a pic-nic in the Deer Park, for which the Belfast ladies, Mary Anne and Margaret MacCracken, Mrs. Neilson, Miss Simms, etc., exerted all their culinary talents; another day, even more delicious yet, was spent in a pic-nic party to beautiful Ram’s Island in Lough Neagh. After their return to town there were suppers and dances and a little music in these friends’ houses. Many, many years after, Mary Anne MacCracken, then a very old woman, told Dr. Madden of what she felt when she heard little Maria Tone sing in her clear voice, to the air of “The Cruiskeen Lawn,” her father’s spirited words: “When Rome by dividing had conquered the world.”

    The last evening of their stay came all too quickly. They were spending it at the MacCracken’s home, of which Bunting was an inmate. The talk turned, as it was bound to do among such ardent lovers of music, as these were, on Bunting’s collection of Irish Melodies which was well on its way to completion, and Bunting was asked to play some air from it.

    Project Gutenberg #67720, Chapter 4

    As the companion tells it

    Somewhere around here, on Ram's Island in Lough Neagh, a picnic party was held in 1795. The Tones were visiting Belfast, and the kindness of their friends there surpassed even what they had found in Dublin. The MacCrackens, the Simmses, the Neilsons, Dr. MacDonnell, and many others competed with one another in arranging entertainments; parties and excursions were the order of the day. Tone records several in his Journal. He remembers two days on Cave Hill in particular. On the first, Russell, Neilson, Simms, MacCracken, and he climbed to McArt's fort and took a solemn obligation never to desist in their efforts until they had subverted the authority of England over their country and asserted their independence. Another day they had a picnic in the Deer Park, for which the Belfast ladies, Mary Anne and Margaret MacCracken, Mrs. Neilson, and Miss Simms exerted all their culinary talents. And another day, even more delicious, was spent in a picnic party to this beautiful island in the lough. After their return to town there were suppers and dances and a little music in these friends' houses. Many years later, Mary Anne MacCracken, by then a very old woman, told Dr. Madden what she felt when she heard little Maria Tone sing in her clear voice, to the air of "The Cruiskeen Lawn," her father's spirited words: "When Rome by dividing had conquered the world."

31. Young Earl and Countess settle at Dollardstown

    Dollardstown · townland · Kildare · 1747

    By July 1747 the young Earl and Countess of Kildare had returned to Ireland and settled temporarily at Dollardstown, joined by the Dowager Countess, Lady Margot, and Miss Brudenell.

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    By July, 1747, the young Earl and Countess were back in Ireland settled for the moment at Dollardstown. The Dowager Countess and Lady Margot, the Earl’s sister, came on a visit to them, and these with Miss Brudenell, the young Countess’s companion, and a couple of men friends of the Earl’s, make up a party very much to the bride’s taste. “We read, work, write and walk,” she informs her confidante Miss “Nanny.” They are presently to take up residence in Carton, which the Dowager Lady Kildare has given over to her son and his bride, having completed it after her husband’s death and furnished it for the young people from top to bottom—even to “the table linen.” It would be ungrateful of the new Countess—after this generosity on the part of her mother-in-law—to seem indifferent about Carton, but in truth she leaves the simplicity of Dollardstown for the grandeur of Carton with much regret.

    A few weeks later we find our young people in residence at Carton, with the elder Lady Kildare and her daughter, Lady Margot, as their guests. The young wife, one gathers, stands a little in awe of her grave, reserved mother-in-law, whose manner “until ye are well acquainted with it, is not very taking.” But she is quite in love with Lady Margot, “whom she [_i.e._ the Dowager] is very strict with.” She is “really charming, and I find I shall grow vastly fond of her. She is vastly lively, very sensible and a very open heart, for she always speaks her mind, and has a very open heart.” In a later letter she makes merry over the compassion she received from those friends who thought it “a very dismal thing for her” to have to leave London—the new London house the Earl had bought for her in Whitehall—“to come with the person in the world I love best, who studies how to please me and make me happy more and more every day, to a very pretty country where I meet with nothing but civilities from everybody, to a whole family who are agreeable and cheerful and vastly fond of me, and to a country where I have a charming house building [Leinster House], a sweet place [Leinster Lodge] which you know I always delight in, and another pretty place [Carton]. Certainly I deserve great compassion for all this.”

    Project Gutenberg #67720, Chapter 3

    As the companion tells it

    Somewhere around here, in July 1747, the young Earl and Countess of Kildare came back to Ireland and settled for the moment at Dollardstown. The Dowager Countess and Lady Margot, the Earl's sister, came to visit, and with Miss Brudenell, the young Countess's companion, and a couple of the Earl's men friends, they made up a party the bride found very much to her taste. She wrote to her confidante Miss Nanny: "We read, work, write and walk." They were soon to move to Carton. The Dowager Lady Kildare had completed it after her husband's death and furnished it for the young people from top to bottom, even to the table linen. The new Countess left this simplicity for the grandeur of Carton with much regret. A few weeks later they were in residence at Carton, with the elder Lady Kildare and Lady Margot as their guests. The young wife stood a little in awe of her grave, reserved mother-in-law, whose manner "until ye are well acquainted with it, is not very taking." But she was quite in love with Lady Margot, whom the Dowager was very strict with. She is "really charming," the Countess wrote, "and I find I shall grow vastly fond of her." In a later letter she made merry over friends who thought it a very dismal thing to leave the London house the Earl had bought in Whitehall. She came, she said, "with the person in the world I love best, who studies how to please me and make me happy more and more every day, to a very pretty country where I meet with nothing but civilities from everybody." She had a charming house building, Leinster House, a sweet place, Leinster Lodge, and Carton. "Certainly I deserve great compassion for all this."

32. Charles Teeling's Declining Health at Kilmainham

    Kilmainham · townland · Dublin · 1797–1798

    Mary Teeling's husband brought back discouraging reports of their son Charles's health from his visits to Kilmainham prison. This added to Mary's anxiety during a period of intense family suffering.

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    All this time Mary Teeling was without news of him, and to the burden which she already had to bear was added that of intolerable anxiety for her eldest son, and great uneasiness about Charles, of whose health his father brought back discouraging reports from his visits to Kilmainham. The kindness of her brother John and his wife Catherine, and the hospitality they so gladly offered her and her girls, could not make her forget the wreck of her own beautiful home, and the irreparable damage done to her husband’s fortune. Moreover, his health was much affected by the condition of his affairs, and the fatigues he had undergone to re-establish them. A trip to a Donegal Spa, followed by a horseback journey to Connacht (where he hoped to establish a new bleach-green) had exhausted him, and in the spring of ’98, he had been sent by his doctor to Cushendall for sea-bathing. His frequent changes of abode were represented to Government as connected with treasonable activities, and accordingly on June 16th, 1798, he was arrested, and committed to prison in Belfast, no charge being made against him.

    For four years Luke Teeling was kept in prison, and was only liberated in 1802. And during all that time no charge was brought against him, nor did his repeated requests to be brought to trial bring any result. From the provost prison in Belfast, he was moved to the _Postlethwaite_ tender, lying in Belfast Lough, one of the prison ships which were among the horrors of the day; from that to Carrickfergus Castle, and finally back to the prison in Belfast. It has been my privilege to read many of the letters addressed by Luke Teeling from his various prisons to members of his family, and truly it was with a great stirring of the heart that one held them in one’s hands, and read the story they tell of sufferings heroically borne; of a devotion to honour and principle which counted no cost too great; of a Faith and Hope, and love of God and God’s Church intense enough to make the writer free of the ardent and heroic company of the saints. There is one letter written from the _Postlethwaite_, where the firm hand trembles, and the strong heart shows nigh to breaking—which it is impossible to read without tears. It is the letter in which the father writes to Bartle’s old friend, Sam Wall, the news of Bartle’s execution.

    Project Gutenberg #67720, Chapter 3

    As the companion tells it

    Somewhere around here, Mary Teeling carried a burden she could not set down. She was without news, and to what she already bore was added intolerable anxiety for her eldest son, and great uneasiness about Charles, whose health his father reported on after his visits to Kilmainham. Each time he came back, the reports were discouraging. Mary's own home had been wrecked, her husband's fortune damaged beyond repair. Her brother John and his wife Catherine took her and her girls in, and their kindness was genuine, but it could not make her forget what had been lost. Her husband's health was also affected, worn down by the condition of his affairs and the fatigues he had undergone trying to re-establish them. He had gone to a Donegal Spa, then ridden on horseback to Connacht, hoping to establish a new bleach-green. By spring of 1798 his doctor sent him to Cushendall for sea-bathing. But his frequent changes of abode were represented to Government as connected with treasonable activities, and on June 16, 1798, he was arrested and committed to prison in Belfast, no charge being made against him. That was Luke Teeling. He was kept in prison for four years and freed only in 1802. No charge was ever brought. He asked repeatedly to be brought to trial, and nothing came of it. They moved him from the provost prison in Belfast to the Postlethwaite tender, a prison ship lying in Belfast Lough, then to Carrickfergus Castle, and finally back to Belfast. His letters from those prisons tell of suffering borne with devotion to honour and principle, of faith intense enough to put him in the company of saints. One letter, written from the Postlethwaite to Sam Wall, Bartle's old friend, tells of Bartle's execution. The firm hand trembles. The strong heart shows nigh to breaking.

33. Family reunion at Blackhall on Christmas Day

    Blackhall · townland · Kildare · 1788

    After Theobald's return from London with money advanced by Matilda's grandfather, the family was joyfully reunited at Peter Tone's house at Blackhall on Christmas Day, 1788.

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    There was a joyful re-union in his father’s house at Blackhall on Christmas Day, 1788. Matilda’s wan countenance brightened into its old beauty when she had her husband by her side again, and the pride of the young father in his charming little daughter was a subject of great delight to her. Now the world was a delightful place once more.

    They left Blackhall after New Year’s Day, 1789, and after a short stay with Mr. Fanning in Grafton Street, took up their residence in Clarendon Street. Theobald was soon after called to the Bar, and went circuit in Leinster. His success was surprising—especially to himself who considered that he knew exactly as much of law as he did of necromancy. “I was, modestly speaking,” he confesses in his pleasant way, “one of the most ignorant barristers in the Four Courts.” But it is plain that if he had cared to succeed he could have succeeded brilliantly.

    Project Gutenberg #67720, Chapter 4

    As the companion tells it

    Somewhere close to Blackhall, Peter Tone's house stood where a joyful reunion took place on Christmas Day, 1788. Theobald had returned from London with money advanced by Matilda's grandfather, and the family gathered to celebrate. Matilda's wan countenance brightened into its old beauty when she had her husband by her side again, and the pride of the young father in his charming little daughter was a great delight to her. Now the world was a delightful place once more. They left after New Year's Day, 1789, stayed briefly with Mr. Fanning in Grafton Street, then took up residence in Clarendon Street. Theobald was soon called to the Bar and went circuit in Leinster. His success was surprising, especially to himself, who considered that he knew exactly as much of law as he did of necromancy. He confessed, "one of the most ignorant barristers in the Four Courts," though it is plain that if he had cared to succeed he could have succeeded brilliantly.

34. George Taaffe's Home in Ardee

    Ardee · townland · Louth

    Mary Taaffe's father, George Taaffe, representative of the Earls of Carlingford, lived in Ardee on the remnant of the family's ancestral estates, within sight of Smarmore Castle which his son later purchased back for the family.

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    So while it is not improbable that Catherine Plunkett’s Convent in Drogheda had the credit of the education which produced so charming a result, we cannot attain any certainty in the matter. Nor do we know much about Mary Taaffe’s childhood. Her father, Mr. George Taaffe, representative of that branch of the Taaffes who held the Earldom of Carlingford under the Stuarts, lived in Ardee on the remnant of the ancestral estates which was all the family’s devotion to the “Lost Cause” of the Stuarts had left them, and within sight of the ancestral castle of Smarmore, which his son was to purchase back for the family. His young wife, Elizabeth Keappock, died in 1753 at the early age of thirty, leaving him with one son, John, and four daughters. Of these, one married Terence Kiernan; another, a member of the Scurly family, a third, Alice, James Lynch of Drogheda. John, the only son, was twice married, first to Anne Plunkett of Portmarnock, and after her death in 1786 to Catherine Taaffe.

    The ease with which Mr. George Taaffe got his girls married (an ease which anxious parents of the present day might well envy) to young men who in respect of fortune and family were among the most eligible _partis_ in the Pale, suggests that the Taaffe girls were very attractive. Doubtless their father’s house, when his four charming daughters still graced it, was an extremely pleasant place; and it is not to be wondered at that the girls’ clever young kinsman, Mr. Luke Teeling, found himself often taking in Ardee[42] on his journeys between his father’s place near Balbriggan and the establishment of the linen merchant in Lisburn with whom he was serving his apprenticeship.

    Project Gutenberg #67720, Chapter 3

    As the companion tells it

    Somewhere close to Ardee stood the home of George Taaffe, representative of the branch of the Taaffes who held the Earldom of Carlingford under the Stuarts. He lived on the remnant of the ancestral estates, which was all the family's devotion to the "Lost Cause" of the Stuarts had left them. From here the ancestral castle of Smarmore was within sight, and his son would later purchase it back for the family. His young wife, Elizabeth Keappock, died in 1753 at the age of thirty, leaving him with one son, John, and four daughters. One daughter married Terence Kiernan. Another married a member of the Scurly family. A third, Alice, married James Lynch of Drogheda. John, the only son, married twice, first to Anne Plunkett of Portmarnock, and after her death in 1786, to Catherine Taaffe. Nor is much known about Mary Taaffe's childhood. It is not improbable that Catherine Plunkett's convent in Drogheda had the credit of her education, but certainty cannot be attained. The ease with which George Taaffe got his girls married to young men who in respect of fortune and family were among the most eligible in the Pale suggests the Taaffe girls were very attractive. Their father's house, when his four charming daughters still graced it, was a pleasant place. Their clever young kinsman, Luke Teeling, often found himself stopping in Ardee on his journeys between his father's place near Balbriggan and the linen merchant in Lisburn with whom he was serving his apprenticeship.

35. Neilson's Origins in Ballyroney

    Ballyroney · townland · Down · 1785

    Samuel Neilson, who married Anne Bryson in 1785, was the son of a dissenting minister of Ballyroney in Co. Down.

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    Anne Bryson was born in Belfast in 1763. Her father, William Bryson, was a wealthy and highly esteemed merchant of that town, and his daughter had all the educational and social advantages which an assured position, a refined home and considerable means could give her. In 1785, when she had reached her twenty-second year, she married Samuel Neilson, the son of a dissenting minister, of Ballyroney in Co. Down. Neilson had been resident in Belfast for some time, having been at an early age apprenticed to his brother John, a woollen-draper—and doubtless the young people had often met at the social functions which enlivened Belfast at this period, and of which Mrs. McTier’s letters to her brother, Dr. Drennan, give us the most delightful glimpses.[77]

    Footnote 77:

    Project Gutenberg #67720, Chapter 5

    As the companion tells it

    Close to Ballyroney, Samuel Neilson had his beginnings. He was the son of a dissenting minister here in County Down. Anne Bryson was born in Belfast in 1763, the daughter of William Bryson, a wealthy and highly esteemed merchant of that town. She had all the educational and social advantages an assured position, a refined home and considerable means could give her. In 1785, when she had reached her twenty-second year, she married Samuel Neilson. Neilson had been resident in Belfast for some time, having been apprenticed at an early age to his brother John, a woollen-draper. The young people had doubtless often met at the social functions which enlivened Belfast in that period, and of which Mrs. McTier's letters to her brother, Dr. Drennan, give the most delightful glimpses.

36. Sheares family town house at Moore Street and Nile Street, Cork

    Moore Street · street · Cork

    The wealthy Sheares family kept up a city establishment in Cork identified by Dr. Madden as situated at the corner of Moore Street and Nile Street.

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    The poor old lady, on whom the diabolical treachery of the guest of that Sunday dinner-party was to bring such suffering that the whole annals of “’Ninety-Eight” have nothing to surpass it, had already tasted in a fuller measure, than is the lot of common women, the joys and the sorrows of life. The near kinswoman of the distinguished lawyer, Sergeant Bettesworth, and a relation of the Earl of Shannon, she had been married, while still very young, to a wealthy Cork banker, Mr. Henry Sheares, son of Henry Sheares, Esq., M.P., of Goldenbush. At Goldenbush, by the pleasant Bandon river, the young couple resided for some time, and here a number of their children were born. But at a later date the family lived at Glasheen, about a mile and a half from Cork, and their abundant means allowed them to keep up another establishment in the city—a house which has been identified by Dr. Madden as situated at the corner of Moore Street and Nile Street.

    The young wife was highly accomplished, and it is rare to find a couple so perfectly matched, as were she and her husband, in every noble quality of heart and mind. She entered into his philanthropic schemes with the greatest zeal. Out of the abundance with which God had blessed them it was their joy to help all those in need. One of the spectacles which moved their compassion most keenly was that of decent poor people who, having fallen into debt, were by the barbarous law of the time, liable to be hauled off to prison for it, and to be herded with criminals, by whom they were too frequently contaminated. To help these unfortunates, whose only crime was poverty, Mr. Sheares instituted “the Society for the Relief of Persons Confined for Small Debts,” and in about nine months the secretary, Rev. Dr. Pigott, was able to report that “more than seventy poor wretches have been relieved by this institution from the depths of misery, and all the horrors of loathsome confinement—by which, at the same time, above 240 children (besides wives and other poor dependent relations) have had those restored to them from whose labour they derive their bread, and the community has been enriched by the replacing of many useful and industrious members.”

    Project Gutenberg #67720, Chapter 3

    As the companion tells it

    This is the Sheares family's city house, at the corner of Moore Street and Nile Street in Cork. The wealthy banker Henry Sheares and his wife kept this establishment alongside their home at Glasheen, about a mile and a half from the city, and before that at Goldenbush by the Bandon river, where several of their children were born. His wife was the near kinswoman of Sergeant Bettesworth, the distinguished lawyer, and a relation of the Earl of Shannon. She had married Henry Sheares while still very young. He was the son of Henry Sheares, Esq., M.P., of Goldenbush. She was highly accomplished, and the couple were perfectly matched in every noble quality of heart and mind. She entered into his philanthropic schemes with the greatest zeal. Out of the abundance God had blessed them with, it was their joy to help all those in need. What moved their compassion most keenly was the spectacle of decent poor people who, having fallen into debt, were liable by the barbarous law of the time to be hauled off to prison and herded with criminals, by whom they were too frequently contaminated. To help these unfortunates, whose only crime was poverty, Mr. Sheares instituted the Society for the Relief of Persons Confined for Small Debts. In about nine months the secretary, Reverend Dr. Pigott, reported that more than 70 poor wretches had been relieved from the depths of misery and all the horrors of loathsome confinement, and that above 240 children, besides wives and other poor dependent relations, had those restored to them from whose labour they derived their bread.

37. The Emmet women in residence at Donnybrook, 1803

    Donnybrook · parish · Dublin · 1803

    During the crisis surrounding Robert Emmet's rising and its aftermath, the women of the Emmet family, including Mary Anne, were living at Donnybrook when they received wild rumours of Robert's fate.

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    Six days after the outbreak of Robert Emmet’s Insurrection, Robert Holmes, who had been in England on business, and knew nothing of his brother-in-law’s plans, was arrested in the streets of Dublin, on his way home. About the same time John Patten, Jane Emmet’s brother, was arrested, and the wildest rumours of Robert’s fate were brought to the ladies of the Emmet family, who were now in residence at Donnybrook. The anxiety proved too much for Elizabeth Emmet, and while her youngest son lay in prison awaiting his tragic destiny, she died in her daughter’s arms.

    Think of what Mary Anne Holmes had to endure during those terrible weeks. One brother was in exile, another in the prison from which the only egress was up the steps to the scaffold; her husband a prisoner with an uncertain fate. Truly “the strong mind” had heavy drains on it when she followed her mother’s coffin to the churchyard of St. Peter’s in Aungier Street, whither Dr. Emmet’s had only a little time preceded it. Small wonder that the end of her sad story came with tragic swiftness, and in tragic circumstances.

    Project Gutenberg #67720, Chapter 7

    As the companion tells it

    Coming up along the road through Donnybrook now. In 1803, the women of the Emmet family were living in this parish during the crisis after Robert Emmet's rising. Six days after the insurrection broke out, Robert Holmes, who had been in England on business and knew nothing of his brother-in-law's plans, was arrested in the streets of Dublin on his way home. About the same time John Patten, Jane Emmet's brother, was arrested. The wildest rumours of Robert's fate were brought to the ladies of the Emmet family at Donnybrook, and the anxiety proved too much for Elizabeth Emmet. While her youngest son lay in prison awaiting his tragic destiny, she died in her daughter's arms. Mary Anne Holmes endured terrible weeks: one brother in exile, another in the prison from which the only way out was up the steps to the scaffold, her husband a prisoner with an uncertain fate. She followed her mother's coffin to the churchyard of St. Peter's in Aungier Street, where Dr. Emmet's had only a little time preceded it.

38. Thomas Addis Emmet Marries Jane Patten of Clonmel

    Clonmel · town · Tipperary · 1791

    In 1791 Thomas Addis Emmet married Jane Patten, daughter of Rev. John Patten of Clonmel, a match that greatly pleased his parents.

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    At the desire of Dr. Emmet, the second son, Thomas Addis, anxious “to fill” as far as in him lay, “the place of his brother,” turned aside from the profession of medicine, in which he had already graduated, and took up that of law. He was called to the Bar in 1790. In 1791, he married Miss Jane Patten, daughter of Rev. John Patten of Clonmel, his choice of a bride giving the greatest satisfaction to his father and mother.

    At first the young couple lived with the old Doctor and his wife, as part of the one household; but as the little grandchildren began to fill the nursery, it was found desirable to provide separate establishments. The Doctor, with this end in view, divided his house in Stephen’s Green, West, into two portions. It stood (and still stands, divided as the Doctor left it into two residences) at the corner of Lamb’s Lane and Stephen’s Green, West,[12] and the Doctor kept the corner portion for himself and assigned the inner to his son’s family. Thomas Addis Emmet had, also, as we know from Tone’s “Autobiography,” “a charming villa” at Rathfarnham, and doubtless the whole family were made welcome in it, whenever the call of the countryside overbid the attractions of the town, in the years previous to Dr. Emmet’s purchase of Casino—the country residence where he spent his last years.

    Project Gutenberg #67720, Chapter 2

    As the companion tells it

    Clonmel here is the town where Jane Patten grew up, daughter of Reverend John Patten. In 1791 she married Thomas Addis Emmet, who had been called to the Bar the year before, after leaving medicine to follow the path his older brother had walked. His father and mother were greatly pleased by the match. The young couple first lived with his parents in Stephen's Green in Dublin, until the children came and the doctor split the house in two so each family had its own quarters. Thomas Addis also kept a charming villa at Rathfarnham, where the whole family could escape the city.

39. Thomas Addis Emmet's Villa at Rathfarnham

    Rathfarnham · townland · Dublin

    Thomas Addis Emmet kept a charming villa at Rathfarnham, as recorded in Tone's Autobiography, where the extended family were likely made welcome.

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    At first the young couple lived with the old Doctor and his wife, as part of the one household; but as the little grandchildren began to fill the nursery, it was found desirable to provide separate establishments. The Doctor, with this end in view, divided his house in Stephen’s Green, West, into two portions. It stood (and still stands, divided as the Doctor left it into two residences) at the corner of Lamb’s Lane and Stephen’s Green, West,[12] and the Doctor kept the corner portion for himself and assigned the inner to his son’s family. Thomas Addis Emmet had, also, as we know from Tone’s “Autobiography,” “a charming villa” at Rathfarnham, and doubtless the whole family were made welcome in it, whenever the call of the countryside overbid the attractions of the town, in the years previous to Dr. Emmet’s purchase of Casino—the country residence where he spent his last years.

    Footnote 12:

    Project Gutenberg #67720, Chapter 2

    As the companion tells it

    Somewhere around here, Thomas Addis Emmet kept what Tone's Autobiography calls "a charming villa" at Rathfarnham. The whole family were doubtless made welcome in it, whenever the call of the countryside overbid the attractions of the town. This was in the years before Doctor Emmet's purchase of Casino, the country residence where he spent his last years. Back in Dublin, the family had first lived as one household with the old Doctor and his wife. But as the little grandchildren began to fill the nursery, separate establishments became necessary. The Doctor divided his house in Stephen's Green West into two residences, at the corner of Lamb's Lane. He kept the corner portion for himself and assigned the inner to his son's family. That house still stands, divided as the Doctor left it.

40. Anne Bryson's Birth in Belfast

    near Belfast · city · Antrim · 1763

    Anne Bryson, later wife of Samuel Neilson, was born in Belfast in 1763 to a wealthy and esteemed merchant family, giving her considerable educational and social advantages.

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    Anne Bryson was born in Belfast in 1763. Her father, William Bryson, was a wealthy and highly esteemed merchant of that town, and his daughter had all the educational and social advantages which an assured position, a refined home and considerable means could give her. In 1785, when she had reached her twenty-second year, she married Samuel Neilson, the son of a dissenting minister, of Ballyroney in Co. Down. Neilson had been resident in Belfast for some time, having been at an early age apprenticed to his brother John, a woollen-draper—and doubtless the young people had often met at the social functions which enlivened Belfast at this period, and of which Mrs. McTier’s letters to her brother, Dr. Drennan, give us the most delightful glimpses.[77]

    Footnote 77:

    Project Gutenberg #67720, Chapter 5

    As the companion tells it

    Anne Bryson was born in Belfast in 1763, the daughter of William Bryson, a wealthy and highly esteemed merchant of the town. Her father's assured position, a refined home, and considerable means gave her every educational and social advantage. In 1785, when she was 22, she married Samuel Neilson, son of a dissenting minister from Ballyroney in County Down. Neilson had been living in Belfast for some time, apprenticed at an early age to his brother John, a woollen-draper. The young people had likely met at the social functions that enlivened Belfast in those years, gatherings Mrs. McTier's letters to her brother Dr. Drennan capture so well.

41. Bartholomew Teeling's Landholdings near Balbriggan

    Balbriggan · town · Dublin

    Bartholomew Teeling held lands in Walshetown, Gardiner's Hill, and Kilbrickstown near Balbriggan and was closely identified with Baron Hamilton's agricultural and industrial enterprises, apparently helping to finance the Baron's schemes.

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    With the agricultural experiments of the Baron, and his industrial and trading enterprises, Bartholomew Teeling was closely identified. He held the lands in Walshetown, Gardiner’s Hill, Kilbrickstown, etc., and some family documents, which I have been privileged to examine, have reference to business transactions with Baron Hamilton, which would seem to indicate that Bartholomew Teeling helped to finance the Baron’s schemes.

    At all events Bartholomew prospered, and when he died the provisions he was able to make for his sons and the education he gave them, show that he had accumulated a comfortable fortune. He was married twice, it would appear, his first wife being of the Taaffe family, and his second a Miss Grace. By these he had a numerous family of sons. In addition to Luke, the eldest son, we find mention in the family papers of Christopher, a well-known doctor in Dublin; James, who seems to have remained in his father’s place near Balbriggan and combined manufacturing and farming; Joseph, and Robert, afterwards merchants in Dublin; and Bartholomew. There was also a Patrick, but if he was one of these brothers, he must have died soon, as his name early falls out of the family record.

    Project Gutenberg #67720, Chapter 3

    As the companion tells it

    Balbriggan was the country of Bartholomew Teeling. He held land at Walshetown, Gardiner's Hill, and Kilbrickstown, and he was closely tied to Baron Hamilton's agricultural experiments and his industrial and trading enterprises. Family papers that survived show business dealings between the two men, and they suggest that Teeling helped to finance the Baron's schemes. He prospered. When he died, the provisions he made for his sons and the education he gave them show he had built a comfortable fortune. He married twice. His first wife was of the Taaffe family, his second a Miss Grace. By these marriages he had a numerous family of sons. Luke was the eldest. Christopher became a well-known doctor in Dublin. James stayed at his father's place near Balbriggan and combined manufacturing with farming. Joseph and Robert became merchants in Dublin. There was another Bartholomew. And there was a Patrick, but his name falls early out of the family record, and he must have died young.

42. Debt Owed to a Man in Capel Street

    Capel Street · street · Dublin · 1798

    In his final letter written before execution, John Sheares also mentioned a debt of about thirteen pounds owed to a man in Capel Street, asking that it be settled after his death.

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    “I picture you all, a helpless, unprotected group of females, left to the miseries of your own feelings and to the insults of a callous, insensible world. Sally, too, stripped of a husband on whom she so tenderly doats, and his children of their father, and all by my cursed intervention, by my residence with them. Yet, he even is my witness how assiduously I sought to keep aloof in any of my political concerns from him, and would have entirely succeeded in doing so if it had not been for the art of that villain, Armstrong, and Harry’s own incaution. My efforts, however, have kept him clear of any of those matters that have involved me in destruction. When Sally has got him back in her arms, and that I, who caused his danger and her unhappiness, shall be no more, she will cease to think of me with reproach. This I trust she will do; she ought—for she herself could never have done more for his salvation than I endeavoured to do. But the scene is changed—I am no longer that frantic thing I was while his danger appeared imminent. A calm sorrow for the sufferings that await you on my account, and a heartfelt regret at being obliged to quit your loved society for ever, has succeeded. Yet, all this will soon have an end; and with comfort I already anticipate the moment when your subsiding grief gives you back to the enjoyment of each other. Still, my dearest Julia, even when I shall be no more, your plagues on my account are not likely to cease. You remember—I am sure you do—your kind promise of protection to my poor, unfortunate little Louisa?[95] I make no doubt but her mother will give her up to your care without reluctance; yet, how to impose this new anxiety on you I know not. But of this I will say nothing; I know your heart, and never could resist the goodness with which it insisted on easing mine by burdening itself. What to recommend relative to her I cannot resolve. Harry did once desire me to take her into his house, but I had a thousand objections to that plan then, some of which still remain; one material one is, that she would soon learn from servants and others how different her situation there was from that of the other children, and her young mind would very early feel that chilling inferiority and degradation, that lead to a debasement of principle, and ultimately to mean and unworthy actions. No; a great many reasons concur to decide me against that measure. She should be put to some school where more care is taken of her health than education, and where the attention to morals consists in good, honest example. Apropos, she was at a Mrs. Duggan’s, at Bray, to whom I yet owe ten guineas for her, and which I request of my dear mother to pay for me, when convenient; I likewise owe a note of hand for about thirteen pounds or guineas to a man in Capel Street whom the Flemings know. I cannot mention the name of these friends without emotions of gratitude and tenderness not to be expressed. Never cease to assure them that I preserve the recollection of their goodness, though the instances of it are so many, and I shall feel it to the last moment. This debt they will be obliged to pay if not discharged by my mother, as they passed their word for it—you will therefore mention it to my poor afflicted mother. Great God! how have I stripped her and you; but I have stripped you of happiness, and should not talk of money....

    Project Gutenberg #67720, Chapter 10

    As the companion tells it

    This is Capel Street, where a man was owed about thirteen pounds by John Sheares in 1798. Sheares mentioned the debt in his final letter, written before his execution. He addressed the letter to Julia, and in it he spoke of the suffering his actions would bring to the women who depended on him. He pictured them as a helpless, unprotected group of females, left to the miseries of their own feelings. He wrote of Sally, stripped of a husband, and of his regret at having caused her unhappiness. He blamed his own involvement in political concerns, and the art of a man called Armstrong, for bringing danger upon them. He asked Julia to remember her promise of protection to his little Louisa. He said she should be put to a school where more care was taken of her health than education, and where attention to morals consisted in good, honest example. He mentioned that Louisa had been at a Mrs. Duggan's at Bray, and that he owed ten guineas for her, which he asked his mother to pay. Then he wrote of the debt on Capel Street. He said it was a note of hand for about thirteen pounds or guineas, owed to a man whom the Flemings knew. He said these friends would be obliged to pay it if his mother did not discharge it, because they had passed their word for it. He asked Julia to mention it to his afflicted mother. He wrote, "Great God! how have I stripped her and you; but I have stripped you of happiness, and should not talk of money."