The principle of these few examples might extend to most of the events that chequer our passage through life; and a little unprejudiced reflection seems alone requisite to demonstrate that “free-agency” may readily keep fate under her thumb on most important occasions.
I cannot avoid particularising, as to matrimony, an incident that came within my knowledge, and related to individuals of rank who are still living. The facts are well remembered, though they occurred nearly twenty years ago. Exclusive of the intrinsic interest of the transaction, it may have some weight with my fair readers.
About the year 1809, a ball, on an extensive scale, was given by Lady Barrington in Dublin. Almost every person of ton did her the honour of participating in the festivity, and I think the Duke of Wellington was present.
In the evening, I received a note from Sir Charles Ormsby, mentioning that Lord G——, son of my old friend the Earl of L——, had just arrived. He was represented as a fine young man; and it was added that (though quite tired) he might be prevailed on to attend Lady Barrington’s ball, were I to write him a note of invitation. Of course I did so with the greatest pleasure. The Earl of L—— and I had been many years intimate: the late Right Honourable Isaac Corry was his close friend; and before his lordship grew too rich, he was my next door neighbour in Harcourt Street. We were, indeed, all three, boon companions.
Lord G—— arrived at the ball, and a very good-looking fellow he certainly was—of about nineteen; his address corresponded with his mien, and I was quite taken with him, independently of his being my friend’s son. Two very young relatives of mine—one my niece, Arabella E——, the other my daughter (now the Viscomtesse de F——,) did the juvenile honours of the party.
Sir Charles Ormsby, (who might have been termed a sort of half-mounted wit,) said to me, rather late, “Did you ever know such a foolish boy as G——? Before he had been half an hour in the room, he protested that ere three months were over, either one or other of your girls would be Lady G——; that it was a doomed thing;—though he could not exactly say which would be the bride—as he had not seen either from the time they were all children together.”
The ball ended about day-break, and I was obliged immediately to set off for circuit. I had been engaged as counsel on the trial of Mr. Alcock for the murder of Mr. John Colclough (as mentioned Volume i.).
I finished my month’s circuit at Wexford, where to my surprise I found Lord G——. I asked him his business there. He said he had been summoned as a witness on the above-mentioned trial, which I thought a very strange circumstance, as he could have known nothing whatsoever of the transaction. However, we travelled together to Dublin in my carriage; and on the way he spoke much of destiny, and of a cottage in County Wicklow, with every thing “rural.” I did not then comprehend the young man’s drift; but on my return, I found that his free-agency had been put in practice; and, in fact, very shortly after, Lord G—— was my nephew. Fatality now commenced her dominion; and a most charming gift from fatality had the young nobleman received in a partner juvenile, like himself, his equal in birth, and possessed of every accomplishment.
I had not at first been made acquainted with the cause of Lord G——’s visit to Ireland; but at length understood, with some surprise, that the Earl of L—— had placed his eldest son as an ensign in a marching regiment ordered to the continent. Thus, at the age of nineteen, he found himself in a situation unfavourable, as I think, to the fair and proper development of his mind and talents—uncongenial with the befitting pursuits for a nobleman’s heir—and still less adapted to gratify the cravings of an ardent intelligent spirit, whose very enthusiasm was calculated, under such circumstances, to produce recklessness and evil.
The residue of this novel (for such, in all its details, it may fairly be denominated—and one of a most interesting and affecting cast) would afford ample material for observation: but it is too long, too grave, and perhaps too delicate, for investigation here.—Suffice it to add, that I saw Lord and Lady G——, with their numerous and lovely family, last summer on the continent—altered less than I should have imagined, from the interval that had elapsed. In speaking of his lordship, I am reminded of the motto, “Every one has his fault:”—but he has likewise great merits, and talent which would have been higher had his education been more judicious. My friendship for him has been strong and invariable; and I think that fate has not yet closed the book on his future renown and advancement.