A family with which Mrs. Delany had much friendly intercourse was that of the Wesleys, who then and long after lived at Dangan Castle in the county of Meath, within two miles of Laracor, Dean Swift's first Irish living. This residence is generally supposed to have been the birthplace of the duke of Wellington, though No. 24 Upper Merrion street, Dublin, disputes that honor. Mrs. Delany describes Dangan Castle as being a large, handsome and convenient house. Mr. Richard Colley Wesley, who was then the proprietor, planted and laid out the grounds with much taste. They lived magnificently, and at the same time without ceremony. There was "a charming large hall" with an organ and harpsichord, where all the company met when they had a mind to be together, and where "music, dancing, draughts, shuttlecock and prayers took their turn." The house is now in ruins, having been sold to Roger O'Connor, and burnt accidentally afterward. Mrs. Delany speaks of her friend, Richard Colley Wesley, the ancestor of the duke, as having more virtues and fewer faults than any man she knew. She adds a curious circumstance in connection with the ruins of a castle in the town of Dangan. It belonged to King John, and his butler, gentleman-usher and standard-bearer were the ancestors of the duke of Ormond (Butler), Mr. Usher (high sheriff of Dublin that year, 1733), and Mr. Wesley. The first connection of these families with Ireland is sometimes stated to have been in the time of Henry II., the surname of Butler arising from the circumstance that Henry conferred the chief butlership of Ireland on Theobald Fitzwater in 1177. It is also said that Wesley was the original form of the duke of Wellington's family name. On the other hand, De Quincey says that Wellesley was shortened to Wesley by the same process which leads people to pronounce Marjoribanks "Marshbanks," and St. Leger "Silliger." It was probably resumed to distinguish a particular branch of the family. However this may be, it is to be regretted that the "iron duke," who was Irish both by birth and long descent, should have habitually affected Anglicanism. When in a celebrated speech he frequently used the words "As an Englishman," he provoked the remark of an Irish wit: "The duke reminds me of a countryman of mine who was accosted by President Jefferson in the United States: 'Well, Paddy, and why have you come to America?'—'Begor, yer honor, I jist come over to be a native.'"
The viceregal court has never been without its traditions of beauty, wit and fashion. The two Gunnings, whose fame has come down to our day in the letters of Walpole, made their début at the Castle when the earl of Harrington was lord lieutenant. They were the daughters of an Irish gentleman of old family who had married the Hon. Bridget Bourke, a daughter of Lord Mayo. Their father seems to have been improvident, for they were said to be so poor that they thought of being actresses, and when they were presented they had to borrow clothes from Mrs. Woffington. Walpole speaks of them as two young Irish girls of no fortune who were declared the handsomest women alive, and says that they could not walk in the Park or go to Vauxhall but such crowds followed them that they were generally obliged to go away. Some years after he writes to Miss Berry: "The two beautiful sisters (Gunning) were going on the stage when they were at once exalted almost as high as they could be—were countessed and double-duchessed." This last expression was in allusion to the marriage of one of the sisters first to the duke of Hamilton, and afterward to the duke of Argyll. She thus united two rival families and became the ancestress of the present duke.
A still more remarkable belle in many respects was Miss Eleanor Ambrose. This lady, who was exquisitely beautiful and of very fascinating manners, was the brightest star in the viceregal court of the celebrated earl of Chesterfield. She was the daughter of a Catholic gentleman of good family and connected with the leading Catholic aristocracy. The professions were at that time closed against members of the old faith, and, in spite of the prejudice which then existed against trade, some of the younger sons of good Catholic families betook themselves to commerce. Hence the father of Miss Ambrose gained wealth as a brewer in Dublin, and left a considerable sum between his two daughters. The earl of Chesterfield, being warned before he came to Ireland that he would have much trouble from the Catholic party, wrote back soon after his arrival that the only "dangerous Papist" he met was Miss Ambrose, a title by which she was known ever after. Many graceful compliments paid to her by the courtly earl testify to his admiration of her beauty and accomplishments. On seeing her wear an orange lily on the anniversary of the Battle of the Boyne he addressed her in the following impromptu:
Say, lovely traitress, where's the jest
Of wearing orange on thy breast,
When underneath that bosom shows
The whiteness of the rebel rose?
On another occasion, Miss Ambrose being present when the freedom of the corporation of Drogheda was presented to the viceroy in a gold box of exquisite workmanship, she laughingly asked him to give it to her. "Madame," said Chesterfield, "you have too much of my freedom already." The lady eventually married a county Mayo gentleman of large fortune named Palmer, and lived to the age of ninety-eight, forming a connecting link between two very distant periods. In her extreme old age Sheil paid her a visit, the admiration which Lord Chesterfield was known to entertain for her having induced him to seek an introduction to her. Although rich, he found her occupying a small lodging in Henry street, where she lived secluded and alone. "Over the chimney-piece of the front drawing-room was suspended the picture of her Platonic idolater. It was a half-length portrait, and had been given her by the man of whose adoration she was so virtuously vain." While Sheil was striving to image to himself the fascinations of the "dangerous Papist," the door was opened: a volume of smoke had previously filled the room, and the rush of air causing it to spread in huge wreaths around her, "a weird and withered form stood in the midst of the dispersing vapor." Lady Palmer was a most vehement Catholic. Lord Chesterfield and the Catholic question were the only subjects in which she seemed to take any interest. On the wrongs of her country she expatiated with both energy and eloquence, but when her visitor remarked that he was not surprised at Lord Chesterfield's having called her "a dangerous Papist," the patriot relapsed into the woman, and she looked up at the picture with a melancholy smile.
The subject of society in Ireland during the eighteenth century would be singularly incomplete without some notice of the disabilities under which so large a portion of the nation lay. The penal laws were designed to transfer all the property of the country to the hands of Protestants, and they were effectual to a great extent, but in many instances they were evaded by the friendship and good feeling of Protestants themselves. Intermarriages often took place, and individuals of the favored party in several cases held property secretly in trust for the real owners. By this and other devices a portion of their estates was saved for Catholic families. It may not be amiss to relate two or three illustrations of the working of these laws, and also of the way in which they were evaded.
In the year 1776, Mr. Thomas Stephen Coppinger lived on his family estate of Carhue in the county of Cork. His ancestors had eschewed politics, and had retained their property and their religion for a century and a half without molestation. Now, however, his first cousin, Thomas John Coppinger, laid claim to half the estate on the plea that it should have been "gaveled," or divided between the sons, when his grandfather died without leaving a Protestant heir, such being the law at the time. In order to force his cousin to consent, Thomas John became a Protestant and threatened to file a bill of discovery; which meant that he would give formal notice that his cousin was "discovered" to be a Catholic. By going through this form he could claim the whole estate. Thomas Stephen was advised to go through the ceremony of conforming, but refused on principle. The case was tried, but in the existing state of the law there was no redress, and half the estate, with the family residence, was given up to Thomas John. It tells well for the family affection and forgiving disposition of the Irish that far from this transaction originating a feud between the Protestant and Catholic branches of the Coppingers, they were always on the best terms. The year after this occurrence the law was altered and some of the severest restrictions on the Catholics removed.
A few years before this change in the law a Mr. Duggan resided at the "Park," near Killarney, a property which is still held by his descendants, who have adopted the name of Cronin. A Protestant gentleman having taken some dislike to Mr. Duggan, and being besides a furious bigot, resolved to file a bill against him. Before he had time to execute his design a relative named McCarthy, who had been living in Paris, came to see him. This relative told him that he was very badly off and about to leave for America. "Never mind," said Mr. ——: "I'm going to file a bill against Duggan. The fellow is a Papist. I will get his property, and you shall have a share." It is probable that Mr. —— might have tried to quiet his conscience by this intended application of the money, and to persuade himself that he was not acting through love of gain. In a day or two after the above conversation McCarthy was staying with Mr. Deane Freeman of Castle Cor in the county of Cork. This gentleman being a Protestant and a Tory, his guest told him of the plan against Duggan. But Mr. Freeman was quite a different person from the others, and was besides a friend of Mr. Duggan's. He went immediately to Mr. —— 's house, and learned from his own lips that he was about to commit this wrong. Mr. Freeman then said that he also had business at Dublin, and proposed that they should go together. Traveling was at that time both slow and dangerous, and Mr. —— was glad of the addition to his party. They stopped the first night at the house of a friend, who on a hint from Freeman managed to induce the intended filer of the bill to partake so largely of his hospitality that he was carried to bed the next morning in a state of insensibility. His companion being thus put hors de combat, Mr. Freeman hastened to Dublin and filed a bill in his own name. While this was on the file no other bill could be proceeded with, but for further security he got Mr. Duggan to make a fictitious sale of the property to him, and thus saved it for better times.
The MacMahon estates in the county of Clare were saved in the following way: Suspecting a "discoverer," a Miss MacMahon—who must have been own cousin to Lever's Miss Betty O'Shea—resolved to become a Protestant. She first, however, consulted a friar, and was told by him that if she did so she would peril her soul. "Here goes, then!" cried the doughty damsel: "better that the soul of an old maid should go the wrong way than that the property of the MacMahons should go to the Protestants." She conformed and saved the property. More than one estate was preserved to the Catholic owner by the singular proceeding of his filing a bill against himself under an assumed name.
A tragic occurrence, arising out of the working of these laws, is commemorated by a tombstone in Kilcrea Abbey near Cork. Arthur O'Leary, a member of the old Catholic family of that name, had served for a few years in the Hungarian army, as the laws against the Catholics did not permit them to hold commissions in the British service. On his return to Ireland he married a daughter of the O'Connell who lived then at Derrynane, an aunt of the "Liberator." He settled at a place called Raleigh, situated on the river Lee, and became a country gentleman, holding considerable personal property. From his descent and creed he was looked on as a chieftain by the peasantry, which made him unpopular among his neighbors of English blood. One of them, a Mr. Morris, took great pride in a fine stud of horses. Having lost a race to O'Leary on which a heavy wager depended, he was greatly mortified. Some one, perceiving his vexation, unfortunately reminded him that the "Papist" could not legally keep a horse exceeding five pounds in value. He tendered this sum to O'Leary, who indignantly refused to give up his favorite animal. On his resisting the warrant which was then made out for his arrest, he was outlawed. A party of soldiers was sent after him, and he was shot in the encounter that followed. This took place in the year 1773, when O'Leary was only twenty-six years old. The tragedy did not end here. A brother of O'Leary's was seized with an insane desire of vengeance, and made several attempts on Mr. Morris's life, till the latter, in a state of chronic terror, left his country residence and came into Cork to live. Here O'Leary watched day after day, and at length succeeded in wounding him fatally. He then escaped to America, where he died some years after. An ancestor of the writer afterward resided at Hanover Hall, the place which Mr. Morris had been thus forced to leave, and a member of the family used to relate how she was shown when a child the marks of O'Leary's bullets in the doors and wainscoting. It would seem as if a desire to brave the laws of the "Saxon" was inherent in this family. A noted professor of the name in Cork appeared a few years ago at a fancy ball clad in his ancestral clothing of the sixteenth century and wearing the insignia of the chieftainship. He boasted that in doing so he broke no fewer than three statute laws. But times are altered now, and the learned professor was permitted to indulge his whim in peace. No clansmen gathered round him, and no "Sassenach" soldiery rent away his saffron robe.