Meanwhile Lord Northington's brief tenure of office was not without incident. He discovered more about Irish affairs in less than twelve months in Dublin than he had learned in ten years in England. A great Volunteer convention in the vicinity of the Castle augured a disturbing time, but it passed off quietly enough, and the viceroy set about advising his friend and political patron, Fox, of the real condition of the country. Fox was for a display of force; Northington, with the superior knowledge of the man on the spot, and able to gauge the temper of the Irish race, strongly urged a policy of conciliation. More than once he complained to Fox that the evils of absentee officialism were endangering the position of the Government in Ireland; and, unable to cope with this scandal because he had the whole of the official and governing classes against him, he turned to the more congenial task of encouraging Irish industries. Out of his own resources he helped in the promotion and development of the flax and tobacco trades, then in a very feeble state. Parliament, anxious to show its friendliness towards Northington, increased his salary from £16,000 to £20,000 a year, but he never benefited by the change—even if he desired to—for the Coalition Ministry, defeated by the intrigues of the court party, went out of office in the early part of 1784, and the Duke of Rutland, a popular and wealthy nobleman, was selected to succeed him at Dublin.
It was at first proposed to send Temple, now Marquis of Buckingham, back again, but the king had need of his services, and the appointment was delayed for some three years.
The Duke of Rutland
Rutland was a close personal friend of the triumphant Pitt, and although only thirty years of age in 1784, was entrusted by his friend with the momentous secret that the Home Government had in contemplation the union of the two Parliaments. Rutland's first move in Dublin was to sound carefully the leading officials and noblemen. To his astonishment he found the most determined opposition everywhere. Nobody would listen to the proposal, and the viceroy was compelled to laugh the idea away, pretending that it was but an idle fancy of his own, and quite unimportant.
It is not to be wondered at that Dublin should be unanimous against the proposal. Its very existence depended upon the official classes. Seventy-five per cent. of the well-to-do drew their incomes from Dublin Castle; while the trades-people were for obvious reasons panic-stricken whenever it was rumoured that the Parliament should be transferred to London.
Rutland thereupon sought distraction in such pleasures as the capital afforded, and his wife seconded him. Both were young and in possession of more than viceregal wealth, and they cut the road to popularity short by a lavish expenditure. The leading noblemen built themselves mansions, and the wealthy bourgeois followed suit. Stephen's Green was the favourite residential quarter, but Merrion Square threatened to rival it. Architects, artists, and builders from England and the Continent crowded Dublin, some of them to found families not without renown in Irish annals, if bearing patronymics more suggestive of sunny Italy or France than their adopted country. The professional classes were rapidly rising in social status, and although the rule that prohibited the recognition of lawyers' and doctors' wives by the Lord-Lieutenant and his consort were still in force, barristers and medical men sometimes gained admission to unofficial festivities at the Castle. The large garrison contributed its quota of officers to Dublin society, which at that time and for many years after the union represented all Ireland. The Duke and Duchess of Rutland cultivated society in a manner that gained them immense personal popularity. They led the fashions in the drawing-rooms and in the clubs, and the duke, who dearly loved a good dinner, created a record for dining out never equalled by any subsequent viceroy.
Tired at last of the rollicking pleasures of the capital, the viceroy decided to seek relaxation in a tour of Ireland. He was strongly advised by his council not to undertake the journey, but he was anxious to witness for himself the feudal state some of the nobility maintained in their country castles, and he carried out his resolve. Accompanied by the duchess, he journeyed from place to place, staying whenever possible at the residences of well-disposed noblemen. To mark their appreciation of his visit, the latter spent thousands of pounds entertaining the viceroy and his wife, and the chroniclers of the day dwell with awe on the vast amount of food consumed by the viceregal pair throughout their tour. He must have undermined his constitution during his Irish travels, for on his return to Dublin he was almost immediately in the thrall of a fever, and, not being strong enough to resist it, expired suddenly at his residence in the Phoenix Park on October 24, 1787.
