THE SEVEN BARONETS.
Sir John Stuart Hamilton—Sir Richard Musgrave—Sir Edward Newnham—Sir Vesey Colclough—Sir Frederick Flood—Sir John Blacquiere—Sir Boyle Roche, and his curious bulls—Their characters and personal description—Anecdotes and bon-mots—Anecdote of the Marquess of Waterford.
Among those parliamentary gentlemen frequently to be found in the coffee-room of the House, were certain baronets, of very singular character, who, until some division called them to vote, passed the intermediate time in high conviviality. Sir John Stuart Hamilton, a man of small fortune and large stature, possessing a most liberal appetite both for solids and fluids—much wit, more humour, and indefatigable cheerfulness,—might be regarded as their leader.
Sir Richard Musgrave, who (except on the abstract topics of politics, religion, martial law, his wife, the pope, the pretender, the Jesuits, Napper Tandy, and the whipping-post,) was generally in his senses, formed, during those intervals, a very entertaining addition to the company: he was extremely full of anecdote (given in rather a rhapsodical vein) about Martin Luther, Tod Jones, Pope Pius, Sir Judkin Fitzgerald, Doctor Troy, &c.
Sir Edward Newnham, member for Dublin county, afforded a whimsical variety by his affectation of early and exclusive transatlantic intelligence. By repeatedly writing letters of congratulation, he had at length extorted a reply from General Washington, which he exhibited upon every occasion, giving it to be understood, by significant nods, that he knew vastly more than he thought proper to communicate to any body.
Sir Vesey Colclough, member for County Wexford, who understood books and wine better than any of the party, had all his days treated money so extremely ill, that it would continue no longer in his service! and the dross (as he termed it) having entirely forsaken him, he bequeathed an immense landed property, during his life, to the uses of custodiums, elegits, and judgments, which never fail to place a gentleman’s acres under the especial guardianship of the attorneys. He was father to that excellent man, John Colclough, who was killed at Wexford, and to the present Cæsar Colclough, whose fall might have afforded rather less cause of regret than his brother’s.
Sir Vesey added much to the pleasantry of the party by occasionally forcing on them deep subjects of literature, of which few of his companions could make either head or tail: but to avoid the imputation of ignorance, they often gave the most ludicrous proofs of it on literary subjects, geography, history, and astronomy, with which he eternally bored them.
Sir Frederick Flood, also member for County Wexford, whose exhibitions in the Imperial Parliament have made him tolerably well known in England, was very different in his habits from the last-mentioned baronet;—his love of the dross, and spirit of ostentation, never losing their hold throughout every action of his life. He was but a second-rate blunderer in Ireland. The bulls of Sir Boyle Roche (of whom we shall speak hereafter) commonly involved aphorisms of sound sense, while Sir Frederick’s (on the other hand) possessed the qualification of being, in general, pure nonsense.
He was a pretty, dapper man, very good-tempered; and had a droll habit, of which he could never effectually break himself (at least in Ireland):—whenever a person at his back whispered or suggested any thing to him while he was speaking in public, without a moment’s reflection he almost always involuntarily repeated the suggestion literatim.
Sir Frederick was once making a long speech in the Irish Parliament, lauding the transcendent merits of the Wexford magistracy, on a motion for extending the criminal jurisdiction in that county, to keep down the disaffected. As he was closing a most turgid oration, by moving “that the said magistracy ought to receive some signal mark of the lord lieutenant’s favour,”—John Egan, who was rather mellow, and sitting behind him, jocularly whispered, “and be whipped at the cart’s tail:”—“and be whipped at the cart’s tail!” repeated Sir Frederick unconsciously, amidst peals of the most uncontrollable laughter.—Mr. Egan then rose, and seconded the motion: this was irresistible. Sir Frederick’s achievements in the English House of Commons were quite insipid.