From Rake to Radical E-Book

Anne Chambers

• Herausgeber: New Island
• Kategorie: Sachliteratur, Reportagen, Biografien
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2022

Beschreibung

From Ireland, England, France, Austria, Greece, Turkey and Italy to America and the West Indies, overflowing with historic events, from the French Revolution to the Great Irish Famine, with a cast of the famous and infamous, Howe Peter Browne, 2nd Marquess of Sligo, lived life to the absolute limits. Privileged yet compassionate, charismatic yet flawed, Regency Buck, Irish landlord, West Indian plantation owner, Knight of St Patrick, Privy Counsellor, intrepid traveller, intimate of kings, emperors and despots, favoured guest in the fashionable salons of London and Paris, patron of artists and pugilists, founder of the Irish Turf Club, friend and fellow traveller of Lord Byron, treasure-seeker, spy, sailor and jailbird, as well as the father of fifteen children, the astonishing range and diversity of Sligo's life is breathtaking. From a youth of hedonistic self-indulgence in Regency England to a reforming, responsible, well-intentioned legislator and landlord, Sligo became enshrined in the history of Jamaica as 'Emancipator of the Slaves' and in Ireland as 'The Poor Man's Friend' during the most difficult of times. Eight years in the writing and sourced from over 15,000 primary contemporary manuscripts located by the author in private and public archives around the world, From Rake to Radical sheds new light on significant historical events and on the people who shaped them in Ireland, England, Europe and the West Indies during a period of momentous political turbulence and change.

Leseprobe

Also by Anne Chambers

Biography

Grace O’Malley: The Biography of Ireland’s Pirate Queen (1530 –1603)

Shadow Lord: Theobald Bourke – Lord Viscount Mayo (1567–1629)

Pirate Queen of Ireland (children)

Eleanor Countess of Desmond (1545–1638)

La Sheridan: Adorable Diva (1887–1958)

Ranji: Maharajah of Connemara (1872–1933)

T.K. Whitaker: Portrait of a Patriot (1916–2017)

Other

At Arm’s Length: Aristocrats in the Republic of Ireland

The Geraldine Conspiracy (a novel)

Finding Tom Cruise (short stories)

From Rake to Radical

FROM RAKE TO RADICAL

Published 2022 by

New Island Books DAC

Glenshesk House

10 Richview Office Park

Clonskeagh

Dublin, D14 V8C4

Republic of Ireland

www.newisland.ie

First published in hardback in 2017 as The Great Leviathan: The Life of Howe Peter Browne, 2nd Marquess of Sligo, 1788-1845

Copyright © Anne Chambers, 2017

The Author asserts her moral rights in accordance with the provisions of the Copyright and Related Rights Act, 2000.

Print ISBN: 978-1-84840-877-7

Epub ISBN: 978-1-84840-878-4

All rights reserved. The material in this publication is protected by copyright law. Except as may be permitted by law, no part of the material may be reproduced (including by storage in a retrieval system) or transmitted in any form or by any means; adapted; rented or lent without the written permission of the copyright owner.

A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

New Island Books is a member of Publishing Ireland.

JeremyIn memoriam

Contents

Author’s Note

Lord Sligo’s Travels

  1.    Little Westport

  2.    An Only Child

  3.    Men Behaving Badly

  4.    Pirate

  5.    Treasure-Seeker

  6.    A Good Man

  7.    Jailbird

  8.    Secret Agent

  9.    A Racing Man

10.    The Good Husband

11.    The Poor Man’s Friend

12.    Emancipator

13.    The Governor

14.    The Big Buckra

15.    The Great Leviathan

16.    Suivez Raison

Family Tree

Sources and Bibliography

Notes

Author’s Note

Located in Westport House, a collection of manuscripts and papers survived four hundred years of war, rebellion, famine, fire, rodents and damp. During the course of my research among these remarkable relics for biographies of Ireland’s sixteenth-century Pirate Queen, Grace O’Malley, and her son, Lord Mayo, I came across the correspondence of their descendant, Howe Peter Browne, 2nd Marquess of Sligo.

Brimful with incidents and historic events, with a cast of famous and infamous personages, the story of the 2nd Marquess of Sligo brought me on a journey from Ireland to England, France, Greece, Italy, America, the West Indies and many places in between. Like his enormous portrait by Sir William Beechey, which overshadows those of his ancestors and descendants in the Long Gallery at Westport House, Sligo was truly larger than life. The portrait of him as a student in Cambridge exudes all the youthful exuberance, confidence and foibles of an aristocratic Regency dandy. In a discreet corner in Westport House, however, a more modestly sized portrait of him in middle age shows a face lined with experience, ill-health, worries and responsibilities. As I subsequently discovered, the two portraits are, in effect, visual depictions of his journey from a youth of wealth, privilege and hedonistic self-indulgence to a mature reforming, indebted and well-intentioned landlord, statesman and family man.

The range of Lord Sligo’s undertakings, the sheer volume of his correspondence scattered in archives throughout the world, as well as the geographical scope of his travels, initially made his biography a prohibitive undertaking. And yet I could not quite ignore him. On visits to Westport House his portrait loomed even larger and beckoned even more. A visit to Jamaica in 1996, in the company of his great-great-grandson the late 11th Marquess of Sligo, to commemorate his contribution to the abolition of slavery on the island in the nineteenth century, was revealing of a man somewhat at odds with the modern-day perception of a nineteenth-century West Indian plantation owner. Researching the Jamaican side of his life for an exhibition in Westport House to commemorate the bicentenary of the abolition of slavery in 2007, I finally realised there was no escape. Howe Peter Browne, 2nd Marquess of Sligo had me hooked.

His relatively short lifespan of fifty-six years was crammed with a diverse and extensive range of activities as a Regency buck, an embattled Irish landlord, a peer of the realm, a West Indian plantation owner, Custos Rotulorum, Lord Lieutenant of County Mayo, Knight of St Patrick, militia colonel, governor general of Jamaica, privy counsellor, legislator, intrepid traveller, political commentator, favoured guest at the court of successive kings of England, as well as in the courts of Napoleon’s family and in the fashionable salons of Mayfair and Paris, an antiquarian, a patron of the arts, a successful horse breeder, founder and steward of the Irish Turf Club, an emancipator, a friend and fellow traveller of Byron, a spy, sailor and jailbird, as well as the father of fifteen children – each role seemed to warrant a biographical treatment in its own right.

A prolific letter writer, Sligo left behind a vast collection of letters, including copies of his own correspondence with others, which, in turn, was further complicated by his atrocious handwriting! This unique and hitherto unpublished archive throws new light on historical events in Ireland, England, Europe and the West Indies and on the people who shaped them in a period of fundamental political and social change, from the French Revolution, to the abolition of slavery, to the Great Irish Famine.

Unable to resist Sligo’s magnetic appeal, or to choose one aspect of his chequered life over another, I decided, like his portrait in the gallery at Westport House, on the big picture – a portrait of his life and times.

*

I am deeply grateful for the assistance and cooperation I received from the many institutions referred to in the reference and source pages. For additional information and material, I am especially indebted to the late 11th Marquess of Sligo, to whom this book is dedicated, and to Sheelyn Browne, Eileen Fahy and Biddy Hughes; the late Lord John Brabourne; Valerie Facey, Kent Reid and Jackie Ranston in Jamaica; and to the late Peter Cochran of the Byron Society.

My thanks to my agent, Jonathan Williams; editor, Emma Dunne; and Edwin, Mariel, Daniel and staff at New Island. To Martina Chambers Farah and Therese Chambers for their translation assistance, and, as ever, to Tony, family and friends for their encouragement and patience.

Anne ChambersDublin 2022

Chapter 1

Little Westport

Little Westport is improving. His teeth tease him a good deal but he is considered as cutting them favourably. His conversation is exceedingly entertaining but not very intelligible, being a mixture of English, French and Portuguese, all of which he understands but sometimes in conversation he blends them a little together.

Earl of Altamont, November 1790

This reference to his two-year-old son and heir was written by John Denis, 3rd Earl of Altamont, to his brother-in-law, Ross Mahon, Castlegar, County Galway, from Lisbon where John Denis and his English-born wife, Louisa Catherine Howe, were temporarily resident. At thirty-four years of age, the earl had suffered a mild stroke and found the benign climate of Lisbon more beneficial than the chill and dampness of his west of Ireland estate. ‘My feet continue quite well and I walk about with my crutches very stoutly … Every day of rain or wind I have a fresh supply of rheumatism; fortunately they occur but seldom in this climate.’1 An only child of the marriage, inheriting the title Lord Westport, Howe Peter Browne was born in London on 18 May 1788. He was named after his maternal grandfather, Admiral Richard Howe, British hero of the American War of Independence, and his paternal grandfather, Peter Browne, 2nd Earl of Altamont. At two years old he had embarked on the first of many journeys that would make him one of the most travelled men of his time.

His father owned one of the largest estates in Ireland, comprising almost 200,000 acres in counties Mayo and Galway, plantations on the island of Jamaica, and a mansion house in Dublin’s Sackville Street. Westport’s ancestry was an intriguing mix of Gaelic Irish and Elizabethan English. Among his Irish ancestors was the redoubtable ‘Pirate Queen’ Grace O’Malley (Granuaile), ‘the most notorious woman’ of Elizabethan Ireland. Perhaps it was from this remarkable grande dame that Westport inherited his lust for adventure, as well as the individualism, dash and confidence that marked his early life; from his less flamboyant Browne ancestry perhaps his adaptability and pragmatism.

The Browne family acquired their estate by methods other than confiscation and initially shared the same religion as the majority of their Irish neighbours. In 1669 John Browne, a successful lawyer, married Maud Bourke, daughter of the 3rd Viscount Mayo and great-great-granddaughter of Grace O’Malley. Following the Restoration settlements of Charles II, by purchase and by mortgage, Browne acquired much of the encumbered estate of his insolvent father-in-law. He was a staunch Jacobite and colonel in the army of King James II, and the capitulation of the Jacobite cause at Limerick in 1691 heralded his financial ruin and, as a Catholic, confiscation and imprisonment.

Once the heir to the richest man in Connaught, John Browne’s eldest son, Peter, found himself bankrupt and, as a Catholic, a political outcast. His son, John, however, ticked all the right boxes for advancement in the new Ireland that emerged from the ruin of the Williamite confiscations. Educated at Christ Church, Oxford, he converted to the religion of the establishment and was ambitious and able. In 1729 he married Anne (Nancy) Gore, sister of the 1st Earl of Arran. In rapid succession he became Baron Mount Eagle (1768), Viscount Westport (1770) and the 1st Earl of Altamont (1771). One of his sons, James Browne, became Prime Sergeant of Ireland. Another son, Arthur, a colonel in the British army, fought in the American War of Independence. His youngest son, Henry, a lieutenant in the Louisburgh Grenadiers, fought against the French at the battles of Louisburgh and Ticonderoga. He won fame for helping the mortally wounded General Wolfe at the Battle of Quebec on 13 September 1759. ‘He was wounded as he stood a foot from me,’ Henry wrote to his father. ‘The poor General after I had his wounds dressed, died in my arms, before he died, he thanked me for my care of him.’2 The incident is enshrined in the famous painting The Death of General Wolfe by Benjamin West.

Land, its acquisition, management and fertility, was the Earl of Altamont’s abiding interest. Side by side with his agricultural endeavours, he introduced flax-growing, established a successful linen industry and built new houses for weavers in Westport. A new mansion house, designed by the German architect Richard Cassels, rose above the waters of Clew Bay as a fitting symbol of his new-found prosperity and status. In 1767 he set out to replace the original village, which had grown around the old stronghold of Cathair-na-Mart, with its thatched cabins and narrow lanes, with the splendid new town of Westport, planned by the architect William Leeson.

John’s son and heir, Peter Browne, further enhanced the family’s fortune. In 1752 he married Elizabeth, only child and heiress of Denis Kelly of Lisduff, County Galway, and Spring Garden, County Mayo, former Chief Justice and a wealthy plantation owner in Jamaica. The Kelly Jamaican estates were to transform the fortune and status of the Browne family.

There was a long-standing connection between the west of Ireland and the West Indies. From the early 1600s Catholic merchant families from Galway city were actively involved in trade with the Spanish- and French-controlled West Indian colonies. This connection became widespread in the early eighteenth century on the enactment of the Penal Laws, which sought to eradicate the Catholic religion in Ireland by making it a barrier to political and financial advancement. For the younger sons of Catholic families, emigration thus became a necessary option. Many from the west of Ireland went to the island of Jamaica where some ten per cent of the island’s plantations were Irish-owned. If they survived the rigours of the long sea voyage, tropical disease, despondency, cultural alienation and the ‘deceitful, dreadful climate’, the new arrivals found employment as bookkeepers, overseers, attorneys, agents and managers for absentee proprietors, often their own relations. They quickly became integrated into the ruling white supremacy, ever grateful for additional arrivals to swell their ranks and assuage fears of being overrun by the black slaves who outnumbered their white masters nine to one. Many of the new arrivals subsequently inter-married with the daughters and widows of plantation owners and became wealthy proprietors in their own right. A few, like Denis Kelly, also became prominent in the legislative, administrative and legal offices of state where, unlike Ireland, there was no prohibition to their advancement on religious grounds.

The Kelly name was long established in Jamaica. Denis Kelly, an Irish-born barrister, was resident in Jamaica at the close of the seventeenth century. He purchased 621 acres of fertile land west of Old Harbour Bay, which became known as Kelly’s Estate. The estate consisted of sugar works, cane fields and a cattle pen (farm). He married Elizabeth Meade from County Cork and they had seven sons and three daughters. In 1716 Denis Kelly returned to Ireland and settled at Lisduff, County Galway, on lands purchased by his eldest son, Edmond.

Edmond Kelly remained in Jamaica and in 1720 acquired the moiety ‘in all that plantation or sugar work in the parish of St. Dorothy’s commonly known by the name of Cocoa Walk … and also one full moiety and equal half part of all those negro, Mulatto and other slaves with their increase then living.’3 His marriage in 1719 to Mary, daughter and heiress of Charles Fuller and Catherine Maria Byndloss, endowed him with additional property, including outright ownership of Cocoa Walk, of which his father-in-law was co-owner. Cocoa Walk was situated some nine miles inland in a mountainous area in the parish of St Dorothy’s. It produced coffee, cedar timber and plantains, as well as cattle and sheep. In 1722, by royal patent, Edward was granted an additional 1,569 acres in the parishes of St Dorothy, St Mary and St George, making him one of the largest plantation owners on the island. In 1711 he was appointed a member of the Jamaican House of Assembly for the parish of St John. From 1717 to 1723 he was Attorney General and was elected Speaker of the Jamaican House of Assembly. Despite or because of his spectacular rise in the property market, he fell into financial difficulties, left Jamaica and died in London in 1728.

His youngest brother, Denis, secured what remained of his brother’s estate and served as Chief Justice of Jamaica from 1742 to 1746. In 1729 he married Priscilla Halstead, an heiress to extensive properties on the island. They had one child, Elizabeth, born in 1732. In 1747, on the death of his wife, leaving Kelly’s and Cocoa Walk estates in the care of agents, Denis Kelly returned with his young daughter to the family estate at Lisduff.

The portrait of Elizabeth Kelly in the long gallery at Westport House evokes a sense of the exotic among the more conventional ancestral portraits. From the rakish slant of her feathered hat, the nonchalantly displaced pearl and ruby necklace, to the provocative display of her well-endowed bosom, this Creole heiress stares out languidly with large blackberry eyes on a world far removed from her Caribbean roots. For a young woman from the tropical, vibrant and indulgent world of Jamaican planter society, where her every wish and comfort was a priority, moving to the grey and more restrained life of the wife of a west of Ireland landowner was a challenging transition. Perhaps the appalling living standards of the multitude of Irish cottiers and landless labourers, not much removed from the condition of the Jamaican slaves, was one abject familiarity. According to tributes paid to her, Elizabeth seemed to have been affected by the plight of her husband’s dependants in Mayo, as perhaps she had been by the slaves on her father’s estates in Jamaica. Whether she had any say in her marriage to Peter Browne, if she fell madly in love with him or whether their union was motivated by more mercenary considerations, is unknown. As in Jamaica, Connaught society was intimate, interrelated and hospitable, providing outlets for social intercourse between the landed classes. The return of ‘Jamaica Kelly’ with a fortune and an only daughter opened many doors.

Peter Browne’s lack of title (his father had not yet ascended the aristocratic ladder) made him a less than desirable suitor. Unimpressed by his lack of fortune and prospects, Denis Kelly insisted that he change his name to Browne Kelly before giving his consent to the marriage of his daughter. On 16 April 1752, aged twenty, Elizabeth Kelly married Peter Browne Kelly. The young couple took up residence at Mount Browne, a few miles from Westport. Notice of their marriage was carried in the Dublin Gazette, which described Miss Kelly as ‘a young lady of great beauty with a £10,000 fortune’.4 Their first child, Priscilla, named after her Jamaican grandmother, was born the following year but died in childhood. A son, John Denis, was born in 1756, followed by another son, inexplicably also named Denis, and three daughters, Anne, Elizabeth and Charlotte.

Denis Kelly died in 1757. By his will, dated 1 March 1754, he bequeathed his estates in Jamaica and Ireland to his daughter. In the event that she failed to produce a male heir, his property should then ‘devise to my nephew John Dalton and the heirs male of his body, he and they taking upon themselves the sirname [sic] of Kelly’.5 He left minor bequests to servants and relations in Galway and the sum of £500 to ‘Margaret Wright, now in Jamaica … for her maintenance until she shall arrive at that age (18 years) or marry.’6 It appears that, like his white counterparts, Denis Kelly had had a dalliance with another woman in Jamaica. Peter Browne Kelly subsequently leased Cocoa Walk ‘with Negroes, slaves, beasts and other appurtances’,7 to his relation John Daly of Carrownakelly, County Galway, and Thomas Kelly of Dublin for one year, while he busied himself with the management of his father’s estate in Mayo and his wife’s estate in Galway. From 1761 to 1768 he represented Mayo in the Irish parliament.

Elizabeth Browne Kelly did not live to see her husband elevated to the peerage. At Mount Browne on 2 August 1765, aged just thirty-three, ‘the Lady of the Honble. Peter Browne, Esqre. whose death is universally lamented especially by the poor whom she charitably supplied with medicine and a skilful person to administer them’,8 died, leaving a family of five young children.

Peter Browne succeeded to the title as 2nd Earl of Altamont on the death of his father in 1776. His eldest son, John Denis, assumed the title ‘Lord Westport’, his younger son, Denis, becoming a ‘Right Honourable’. The anglicisation of the Irish aristocracy had intensified since the conversion of Peter’s grandfather to the established religion. Together with religious conversion, an English education was also de rigueur and the earl sent his heir, John Denis, to be educated at Eton. He also set about enlarging Westport House with plans drawn up by the Dublin architect Thomas Ivory, who rebuilt the south wing. He broke up his father’s extensive horse-racing and breeding establishment. His tenure, however, was short-lived and he died in Westport House in December 1780.

By his will, all of forty-five pages long, he bequeathed the bulk of his property to his eldest son and heir, John Denis. To his second son, Denis, he left the sum of £5,000, ‘trusting that his Elder Brother will do further for him as an elder Brother ought’. Denis was also granted a life interest in the lands and property of Mount Browne. Denis subsequently purchased the Claremont estate near Claremorris in east Mayo from Dominick Browne of Castlemacgarrett (a relation through marriage), which later became his principal residence. Peter Browne also made provision for the sum of £18,000 as marriage portions for his three daughters, set against the rents and profits forthcoming from ‘the several lands, tenements, negroes and particulars in the island of Jamaica which formerly did belong to Denis Kelly’. He left the income from the Kelly estate in Galway to his eldest daughter, Lady Anne Browne, and to her future male offspring, with the proviso that ‘such son when in possession taking and using the name and arms of Browne’. To Anne he also left ‘all her mother’s jewels and paraphernalia’ and land in Mayo, and £1,000 to his illegitimate son Peter Browne, ‘whom I have placed at school at Drogheda’. Peter Browne subsequently entered Holy Orders and became Dean of Ferns. The earl also acknowledged his liaison with Peter’s mother, Mary Stanford of Westport, by rewarding her with an annuity of £100 for life, payable out of his estate. To circumvent the Penal Laws, he further stipulated that ‘on account of her being a papist and the payment thereof shall be disputed, then and in such case I give to the said Mary Stanford the sum of one thousand pounds Irish money’.9

John Denis succeeded to the title and estates of his father at the age of twenty-four. From 1768 to 1772 he represented Mayo in the Irish parliament. On his father’s death he became Commander of the Mayo Legion of Volunteers. In the summer of 1777 he undertook a journey through northern Europe. The trip did not merely follow the pattern of the usual Grand Tour. From the journal he wrote of his travels through Saxe-Coburg, Bohemia, Austria and Hungary, agricultural and manufacturing techniques, especially of linen, cotton, glass and porcelain, consumed his interest as much as architecture and culture.

Like his grandfather, however, John Denis’s main preoccupation was agriculture and estate management. He wrote papers on agricultural innovations suited to the particular circumstances of his west of Ireland estate. He experimented with wheat seeds he had procured from Egypt and elsewhere. His estate books detail the number and breed of his livestock, even the individual names of each of his fifty-one dairy cows, as well as detailing cures for scour in cattle and broken wind in horses and the cultivation of the ‘globe’ turnip. A Tory in politics, he was more content at home in Westport than in the political and social whirl of the House of Lords in Dublin. He had ‘a full, strong and distinct voice’ and, unlike many of his contemporaries, was known to have ‘disliked high living, gambling and swearing’.10 He created the lake to the west of Westport House, which previously had been washed by Atlantic waves, and completed his father’s extension, employing the notable craftsman James Wyatt to deco­rate his new gallery and dining room. Later in 1800 he further embellished his grandfather’s new town of Westport with tree-lined boulevards on either side of the Carrowbeg River, flanked by imposing Georgian houses.

By 1780 John Denis’s world as a landowner in the west of Ireland was not an enviable one. The state of the majority of his countrymen was one ‘of almost unlimited submission: speaking a language that is despised, professing a religion that is abhorred and being disarmed, the poor find themselves in many cases slaves’.11 Land was the main outlet of employment for the vast majority, whose rents were the principal source of income for their landlords. Subsistence living on minute rented holdings in mud-and-wattle single-roomed thatched cabins, lit by rushes dipped in tallow, most without chimneys, with only straw beds, rudimentary furniture and utensils, the hand-to-mouth existence gave little sense of security or any incentive to improve their lot, even for the few who managed to acquire a thirty-one-year lease, the longest allowable to a Catholic. A system known as ‘canting’, whereby a lease could be sold by the landlord to the highest bidder, without any regard to the former tenant, was also rife. Subdivision of land within families, or rented in common by numerous tenants by a practice known as ‘rundale,’ conspired to aggravate the sense of impermanency and made rents exorbitant and out of proportion with the productivity of the land. At the beginning of the nineteenth century a rising population made the common people further dependent on subdivision to provide for their expanding families. Badly led by ‘fence-sitter’ leaders, both aristocratic and clerical, they became ‘the buffoons or the dangerous rebels caricatured by the English press and alluded to in the memoirs of the Ascendancy who despaired of the ignorance and dependence of the class they themselves had created’.12 The imposition of tithes for the upkeep of the minority Anglican Church, to which they did not belong, further contributed to the destitution of the mass of the Irish Catholic population. With no political means to assuage their lot, their anger and sense of hopelessness were vented in occasional outbreaks of agrarian violence and on the hope of foreign intervention. Despite their disadvantaged status, however, their music, dance, storytelling and an innate hospitality, even among the poorest, set the Irish peasantry apart.

While the Earl of Altamont was acknowledged as a progressive landlord, much of his land was of poor quality and the rent was less than that forthcoming from a property of superior quality. In 1796 income rental from his estates amounted to £11,388, which by 1802, mainly owing to his improvements as well as income from his newly established town of Louisburgh, had risen to £16,126. Kelp harvesting and fishing provided an additional source of income for his tenants, as did smuggling and the making of illicit alcohol (poitín). In the early part of the nineteenth century, over two hundred fishing boats operated out of Westport harbour, as well as a fleet of six trading vessels. The town had a custom house, bonding stores, flour mills, a tannery and numerous large warehouses. The linen industry, established by his father, still flourished, while a twenty-six-loom cotton factory and two ‘bleach greens’ at Belclare employed a considerable number of men, women and children.

The earl was part of the Protestant ascendancy whose rule in Ireland was absolute. The anglicisation of Irish aristocrats commenced in the eighteenth century through their conversion to the reformed Church of England, their education in English public schools, marriage to the daughters of English aristocrats and adoption of English language and customs. Over time they became estranged from their own people becoming, in effect, a ‘garrison’ maintained in their loyalty to the English crown by the distribution of titles, patronage and political control. They presided over a parliament in Dublin which represented their own interests and from which the vast majority of their fellow countrymen were excluded.

While life for the under-classes in England and on the Continent was also unenviable, unlike their Irish counterparts, they were not obliged to labour under such onerous political, social and religious disadvantages. English society was also ruled by an aristocracy and a form of government that was both undemocratic and corrupt but there ‘the landed aristocracy formed the graceful apex of a society which had grown up naturally from the soil. Landlord and tenant took each other for granted.’13 The mass of the common people in Ireland, by contrast, were outcasts in their own country and consequently had little faith in the legislative process. While few among the Irish Protestant aristocracy were enforcers of the penal system and some, like the Brownes of Westport, were outspoken opponents of it, it was in the interest of the landlord class that the Irish parliament stayed in Protestant hands to ensure that the circle of privilege, wealth and power remained confined to the few.

As a resident landlord in a remote area of Ireland, the Earl of Altamont’s interest was centred on the locality over which he held sway. He had a deep-rooted aversion to the prevailing cult of absentee landlords who lived abroad on the rent from their estates and ceded responsibility to agents and middlemen. ‘Never be an Absentee from your own country,’ he later advised his son. ‘Support and encourage the Town of Westport it is the best possession we have,’14 advice that was initially more honoured in the breach than in the observance by his heir. A resident landlord, the earl’s finger was on the pulse of every development within his lordship. Westport House was the power base for local politics in Mayo. Appointments to local office and the selection of candidates to represent the county in parliament were decided by the Earl of Altamont. Because of their Catholic origins and marriage connections with some of Mayo’s indigenous families, since their conversion to the new status quo, the Earl of Altamont was the acknowledged buffer between the government in Dublin and the neighbouring Catholic gentry, who, in turn, gave him their allegiance, while thousands of tenants and labourers were dependent on him for their very existence.

In an age when advancement in politics, administration, the military and the professions, in England and in Ireland, was through the patronage of powerful aristocrats, the earl’s influence in Mayo was immense. Much like a present-day public representative, he sought to exact the maximum funding from central government to improve the infrastructure in his immediate locale, competing with his fellow parliamentarians for the limited resources available. Patriarchal and ambitious for the welfare and advancement of his extended family and adherents, through his contacts with Irish and English government officials, the earl promoted their interests in the political, legal, military, administrative and religious outlets at his disposal and expected and received their loyalty in return. From various ministers, admirals and army commanders, he competed for commissions and promotions in the British services. The poet, essayist and critic Thomas De Quincey wrote of him: ‘His language is neither elegant nor animated; little adapted to command the attention, conciliate the regard or invigorate the minds of his hearers, and is alike deficient in philosophical clearness and grammatical precision,’ but, he conceded, he was ‘as good a scholar as a nobleman needs to be.’15

The earl’s accession to his title and estates coincided with a remarkable period in Irish history. Fuelled by developments in the American colonies, Irish political leaders, such as Henry Grattan, campaigned for greater independence from Britain. In April 1782 the British government relinquished its right to legislate for Ireland and a new Irish parliament came into being. Albeit Protestant in orientation and ethos, it presided over a period of growth and rejuvenation which saw an upsurge in municipal building, industry, agriculture, trade, science and in the arts. The more severe edicts of the Penal Laws were abolished. On taking the oath of allegiance to the king, Catholics were permitted to inherit land on the same terms as Protestants, to avail of a 999-year lease and to bequeath their estate in its entirety to their eldest male heir. Pressure from an emerging Catholic merchant class forced the government to concede the right to vote to those Catholics with property valued above forty shillings. While still ineligible to run for parliament and debarred from the bench or from holding high public office, Roman Catholics and Protestant dissenters, such as Presbyterians (against whom the Penal Laws were also directed), began to contemplate a common political strategy.

The plantations of his Jamaican-born mother contributed an average £3,000 annually to the earl’s income. The biannual crop of sugar, and its derivative rum, was shipped and sold on his behalf by an agency in Bristol. He also exported produce from his linen mill in Westport to his estates in Jamaica. ‘I have received a letter from Messrs Beamish and Crawford informing me they have shipped on your Lordship’s account two Bales of linen on the Rebecca which is safe arrived … and are very good for Negroes use.’16

In 1787 the income from the estates was to prove a vital asset to the earl to secure the hand of Louisa Catherine Howe, youngest daughter and co-heir (with her sisters Juliana, Mary and Sophia Charlotte, wife of Penn Assheton Curzon, son of Viscount Curzon) of Admiral Richard Earl Howe. Richard was the second son of Emanuel Scrope Howe, 2nd Viscount Howe, former Governor of Barbados; his mother was the daughter of a mistress of King George I; and his sister was married to William Augustus Pitt. His sister-in-law, a granddaughter of George I, was ‘always treated by the King [George III] with extraordinary familiarity, more indeed as a relative than a common visitant’.17 The family seat, Langar Hall, near Nottinghamshire, was mentioned in the 1086 Domesday Book. By the eighteenth century it had evolved into an imposing Georgian mansion, set in open parkland. Filled with valuable furniture, books, pictures – including a nativity by Rubens ‘found in the ceiling of the Drawing Room’ – and other curiosities, much of its contents were later transferred to Westport House. In 1772 Admiral Howe purchased Porter’s Lodge (also known as Porter’s Mansion) in Shenley, Hertfordshire, where he resided after his retirement from the navy. The family also owned a house on Grafton Street in London.

The naval achievements of Richard Howe and his brothers, George and William, made them household names in England. On leaving Eton at fourteen, Richard had entered the navy as a midshipman. Rising through the ranks, he was appointed commander of the North American fleet on the outbreak of the American Revolution. Popularly known in the service as ‘Black Dick’ because of his swarthy appearance, he suffered no ostentation and was solicitous of the men he commanded. Among his many naval accolades, he is credited with refining the signalling code at sea.

With his younger brother William, who commanded the British army in North America, he was commissioned by the British government in 1776 to open negotiations with the American colonists. Political intransigence and duplicity in England, however, resulted in the collapse of the negotiations. On 4 July 1776 America declared independence and all-out war with Britain commenced. Anchored off Staten Island, on board his ship Eagle, Richard made one final effort to meet with General George Washington, ‘trusting that it may be the means of preventing further bloodshed and bring about peace and lasting union between Great Britain and America’. He planned ‘to advance in a frigate as near to the town of New York as would meet with Washington’s approval,’18 but the meeting did not materialise. In August 1778 Richard Howe prevented the French fleet from taking Rhode Island. Irked by an orchestrated campaign against him in England, the muddled policies of the British Admiralty and War Office, combined with his distrust of the government of Lord North, he subsequently resigned his North American command. He was later persuaded by the government to resume command of the Channel fleet. His reinstatement was crowned by his relief of the siege of Gibraltar in 1782.

Richard became a close confidant of George III, and the king entrusted him with the naval training of two of his troublesome sons. Admiral Howe’s determination not to allow his royal charges any favourable treatment elicited their disdainful complaints. ‘You will have heard I asked Lord Howe for the Phaeton and that I was refused.… His lordship plans to keep me back as long as he could,’ Prince William complained to his brother the Prince of Wales.19 ‘A stupid old fool eat[en] up with gout and various other bad humours … I think his Lordship ought to be surfeited,’ was the opinion of his brother, the Duke of Clarence.20 In 1787 Richard Howe became First Lord of the Admiralty and was created earl by King George III in 1788.

Portraits of his daughter, Louisa Howe, painted by George Romney and by Opie at the time of her marriage to the Earl of Altamont, show a fine-boned face with a provocative mouth and blue eyes, framed by well-defined eyebrows. Her mother, her sister Mary and her aunt were ladies-in-waiting to Queen Charlotte. One of Louisa’s wedding gifts was a fire screen embroidered by the royal princesses. ‘That mild and civil little Mary,’ Queen Charlotte wrote to Lady Howe, ‘beat the King her sovereign at backgammon every night and when I represented that this was not the behaviour of a loyal Subject, I was answered, she did the same to Lord Howe and upon that we settled that what was respectful and dutiful to Papa, must prove towards the King.’21 Charlotte, the Princess Royal, was particularly taken with Louisa and her sister Mary. ‘I have had the pleasure to spend many evenings with dear Miss Mary Howe who I think more charming than ever,’ the princess wrote to her brother Prince Augustus, ‘but she is very low at the thoughts of parting with her sister, Miss Louisa, who is going to be married to Lord Altamont, an Irish peer of great fortune.’22

There are few clues as to how an Irish peer from the remote west coast of Ireland, socially more at home in his rural environment than in the salons of royalty, became acquainted with someone as urbane and refined as twenty-year-old Louisa Howe. There was a remote family connection between the Howe and Browne families through the ‘gorgeous’ Gunning sisters, Maria and Elizabeth, granddaughters of the 6th Viscount Mayo, from Castlecoote, County Roscommon. In the mid-eighteenth century the sisters had taken English society by storm. Maria married the Earl of Coventry and Elizabeth married first the Duke of Hamilton in 1752 and secondly the Duke of Argyle in 1759. The uncles of the Earl of Altamont, Henry and William Browne, fought in the Anglo-French war in America under Admiral Howe’s oldest brother, Brigadier-General George, 3rd Viscount Howe.

The Earl of Altamont, however, found the pathway to love strewn with difficulties. Marriage between aristocrats involved complex and lengthy negotiations. By law, a husband had control over the property of his wife, and for a potential heiress such as Louisa Howe who, with her two sisters, stood to inherit substantial property and wealth from both her parents, adequate safeguards had to be secured. In correspondence edged with icy politeness, the Earl of Altamont found his initial advances rebuffed by his intended’s wary father. His opening shot requesting Louisa’s hand in marriage was deftly parried by the admiral’s determination to establish the adequacy or otherwise of the suitor’s fortune. His lawyers at Lincoln’s Inn demanded a detailed account of the title, size and income of the earl’s Irish and Jamaican estates. The financial terms proffered, however, by his potential father-in-law did not please the prospective groom, who protested that they undermined his status and impeached his character. The riposte from the admiral that he was ‘under the painful necessity of being obliged to decline the honour of your alliance, and to preclude myself from the satisfaction of your future acquaintance’23 was accompanied by the withering offer to reimburse the earl for any expense incurred at the jewellers.

The progress of the negotiations was avidly followed by the royal family. In March 1787 Princess Elizabeth informed her brother Prince Augustus that ‘Louisa Howe is not as yet concluded with Lord Altamont, but will be soon. She is prettier than ever. Her sisters are miserable at the thought of parting with her, particularly Mary who has always lived with her ever since she was born and constantly slept in the same room. But they have the pleasure of thinking that she will be perfectly happy, as everybody gives him the best of characters.’24

Like many aristocrats of his generation, Altamont had enjoyed previous amorous liaisons, as evidenced by his will, in which he provided for two natural daughters the substantial sum of £1,500 invested in ‘Government or real Securities … to pay the dividends and interest unto his natural daughter Mary Browne by Ann Walsh … during her continuance unmarried’. Should his illegitimate daughter marry after his death, the bequest was most civilly dependent on Mary Browne first obtaining the Countess of Altamont’s consent as to the suitability of her prospective husband. He left another ‘annuity of £50… to his natural daughter Elizabeth Mathews for her life’, which he stipulated ‘is to be for her separate use independent of her Husband.’25

The financial wrangling between the earl and the admiral was eventually resolved. A substantial dowry of £15,000 per annum was agreed, with the customary safeguards of annuities in land and money. The marriage took place on 21 May 1787 at Porter’s Lodge, Shenley, Hertfordshire. There was much misgiving and sadness on the part of her family when Louisa departed her English surroundings for the beautiful but remote west coast of Ireland. Some years later, Thomas De Quincey, who visited Westport House, described the world of the ‘old Irish rural nobility’ into which Louisa Howe stepped. ‘Here might be found old rambling houses in the style of antique English manorial chateaux … a comfort and “cosiness” combined with magnificence, not always so effectually attained in modern times.’26 Regardless of the extensions, renovations and improvements lavished on the earl’s home, it still retained aspects of its more ancient beginnings, including an open courtyard at its core. And perhaps symbolic of its more ancient Gaelic origins, Westport House was also home to the last of the original breed of Irish wolfhound, described by a visitor to Westport House in 1786 as ‘being above three feet high, large, noble and handsome … remarkably quiet, patient in anger till really provoked but then truly formidable at which time their hair stands erect. They hunt both by scent and by sight … their colour is white or white with a few black or brown spots.’27 Later in 1810 when the last surviving dog died, the 2nd Marquess of Sligo ordered the bitch to be put down, to protect the origins of the ancient breed.

The Irish aristocracy lived on less formal terms with their servants, retainers and tenants than their counterparts in England. In the west of Ireland this lack of formality was more pronounced. The earl’s agent, John Gibbons, was a local man, while most of his household and estate staff were Irish-born. ‘At Westport,’ De Quincey observed, ‘you might fancy yourself overlooking the establishment of some Albanian pasha. Crowds of irregular helpers and grooms, many of them totally unrecognised … some half-countenanced by this or that upper servant, some doubtfully tolerated, some not tolerated but nevertheless slipping in by the postern doors … made up a strange mob….’28 While perhaps appalled by the living conditions of his tenants, Louisa might well have admired the innovative methods her husband employed to improve agricultural practices and encourage trade through his port, as well as the pleasant appearance of his principal town of Westport. Her dowry enabled the earl in 1794 to purchase part of the Lord Mayo estate at Old Head from John Evelyn, a native of Bath in England, who had acquired it from Edmund Jordan, husband of the last dowager Countess of Mayo.

Admiral Howe maintained close contact with his daughter in Ireland, writing to her from his postings abroad, often voicing his anxiety as to her safety and health, to the annoyance of her husband. Louisa was well educated and her hobbies were many and varied. She painted and drew well and was interested in botany, natural history, chemistry and geometry, as a copy of The Elements of Euclid in her collection testifies. As is also evident from her extant correspondence, she was well-versed in the politics of the day. Despite her ethereal looks, she was strong-willed, independent and self-possessed. Later, during her son’s extended absences abroad, her dextrous handling of his estate and of local and family issues, as well as his financial problems, drew his praise and appreciation. ‘Indeed my affairs are in such able hands that I think it would be to my advantage to stay away ten or twelve years.’29 Louisa was inordinately proud of her Howe family lineage and of her father’s iconic status in England and, with her sister Mary, penned an account of his maritime career. Lest her relationship to Admiral Howe be forgotten, her last will and testament stipulated ‘that the inscription on my coffin may express that I am one of the daughters of the late Earl Howe’.30 Such was her husband’s care and concern for her happiness that he agreed to her frequent and lengthy absences from her marital home in Westport to enable her to remain in contact with her family and friends in England.

Following the birth of their only child, the earl’s indulgence in that regard also extended to his son.

Chapter 2

An Only Child

You will soon however have your little Treasure with you and then you will be quite happy as should I be if I could be with you both.

Lady Altamont

The birth of Lord Westport on 18 May 1788 in London was celebrated, not merely by his parents and his English grandparents, but also by the family of King George III at Windsor Castle. The news, conveyed to the Royal Family by his aunt Lady Mary Howe, provided a diversion from the repressive lifestyle endured by the royal princesses, who took a special interest in the nephew of their ‘particular friend’. Their eldest brother, the Prince Regent (a lock of whose hair is preserved in Westport House), later facilitated the young Irish peer’s induction into British society and even later, as king, stood godfather to his protégé’s eldest son. In the town of Westport and the surrounding countryside, bonfires blazed and revellers celebrated the birth of an heir to the Westport House estate.

From the start, both parents idolised their son. The Earl of Altamont ‘viewed him [Westport] with an anxiety of love that sometimes became almost too painful to witness’.1 Somewhat embarrassed at the intensity of his affection for his son, whose ‘conduct to me is that of an Angel’, the earl begged the indulgence of his half-brother, Peter Browne, ‘as I know you are too much interested about Him to laugh at me for it’.2 The antithesis of his cautious and low-key father, Westport, despite their irregular meetings, developed a strong bond of affection, loyalty and respect with his father. Westport’s relationship with his mother, as is obvious from their voluminous correspondence, is intimate and humorously affectionate. From an early age he adopted the role of her adviser, while Louisa followed his early life of constant mobility and excess with mild trepidation. And while the offspring of such adoring parents, and from such a privileged background, might well be expected to turn out a snob, pretentiousness never became part of Westport’s make-up. He grew up, as one of his friends wrote of him, to be ‘rather handsome and conciliated general goodwill by his engaging manners’,3 characteristics later tinged with the headstrong propensity of youth, the privilege his status endowed and a determination to have his own way.

Westport’s life-long addiction to travel started early. By autumn 1790, aged two, he had undertaken that first sea voyage with his parents to Lisbon. They were accompanied by a number of servants and by Mr Fitzmaurice, a naval medical doctor, whom Admiral Howe released from duty to attend his daughter and son-in-law. The earl’s rheumatic ailments responded to the mild climate and, as he wrote to his cousin, he ‘was gaining ground rapidly’ and his ‘dearest Louisa’ was also doing ‘tolerably well’.4 News of his family and estate was conveyed by the packets which sailed between Ireland, England and Lisbon. One of the first letters contained news of the marriage of the earl’s younger brother, Denis, to his first cousin, Anne Mahon of Castlegar, County Galway. By return mail from Lisbon, the earl wished the happy couple ‘from my soul every happiness … nor shall my efforts ever be wanting to make them happy in every way’.5 Remaining true to his father’s last wishes, the earl supported his younger brother, financially and politically, despite the latter’s participation in events that were destined to make his name akin to the devil in his native county. News of the pregnancies of the earl’s two sisters, Elizabeth (Betsy), married to Ross Mahon in Castlegar, and Anne, the wife of Lord Desart in County Kilkenny, induced the earl to despatch ‘a box of lemons and two boxes of oranges which my dearest Betsy desired’,6 as well as pipes of wine and sherry to his brother-in-law. His generosity extended also to his father-in-law, to whom he sent casks of wine and sherry. The sheer quality of the ‘Calcavella’ might well, the admiral told his son-in-law, induce him ‘to become a more potent toper than you seem willing to believe’.7 The royal princesses frequently added their own lines to Lady Mary’s letters, especially with enquiries and good wishes for Louisa’s ‘little boy’.

In late spring 1791 the family returned to Westport where the earl became absorbed in the management of his estate and where his three-year-old son received all the attention that befitted his status. These early years were the longest uninterrupted period Westport was destined to spend in his ancestral home. The leather-bound volumes on history, politics, belle-lettres, botany, arts, sciences and theology in the library at Westport House shaped his early education. One of the oldest portraits in the house, that of Maud Bourke, the great-great-granddaughter of his remote ancestor Grace O’Malley, may well have inspired his penchant for adventure, while his future predilection for antiquities was nurtured by such tomes as Lavery’s Letters on Greece, Stuart and Revett’s Antiquities of Athens, Wood’s Ruins of Palmyra and the Earl of Pembroke’s Collection of Ancient Marble Antiquities. Their faded engravings of antiquities in distant lands fired his imagination.

The earl’s sporadic attendances at parliament in Dublin helped break the isolation of their remote location. As a member of the peerage, the earl sat in the Irish House of Lords, while his brother, Denis, sat in the Lower House as MP for Mayo. Almost two hundred miles long, travelled at an average speed of twenty-five miles a day on a winding road that meandered through the middle of Ireland, punctuated by detours to the houses of relations and friends, combined with changes of horses at the few inns and hostelries en route, the journey between Westport and Dublin, via towns such as Ballinrobe, Ballinasloe, Kilbeggan, Kinnegad and Maynooth, took many days.

One of the larger European cities, Dublin had a population in excess of 150,000 citizens. Transformed from a medieval town to a modern city, by the late eighteenth century it possessed broad thoroughfares, large public gardens, imposing civic buildings, fashionable town mansions and uniform red-brick Georgian terraces. Handsome public edifices, such as the Custom House on the newly developed quays, the Law Courts, King’s Inns, the Royal Exchange and the Blue Coat School in Blackhall Place further enhanced its appearance. By the 1790s the newly built mansions of the aristocracy extended from the river Liffey northwards along Sackville Street towards the Rotunda and Rutland Square. Their spacious rooms were furnished à la Wyatt, Adam and Chippendale by the multitude of decorative plasterwork companies that flourished in the city.

During the parliamentary term, Dublin was crowded and en fête. Carriages, curricles, landaus, post-chaises, carts, coaches and brightly painted sedan chairs jostled for position in the busy thoroughfares. The wheeled traffic vied with cattle drovers and their four-legged charges, haughty young bucks with duelling on their minds, beggars, shrill-voiced hawkers and hucksters, plaintive balladeers, street musicians and pickpockets. The parliamentarians socialised and partied, attended masked balls, concerts and firework displays, promenaded in the Rotunda and Ranelagh gardens, took carriage drives along the fashionable North Circular Road and farther afield to picturesque suburbs such as Blackrock and Bray. ‘Nothing can be so gay as Dublin,’ one visitor enthused, ‘the Castle twice a week, the opera twice a week, with plays, assemblies and suppers to fill up the time.’8 Parliamentary sessions were looked on as a financial boon to the capital and benefited all classes, from merchant to messenger.

The focal point of business, politics and pleasure centred on Dublin Castle and on the court of the Viceroy, the king’s representative in Ireland. The viceregal court, fashioned on the royal court in England, was the epicentre of style and entertainment, as well as political advancement. Invitations to balls and suppers at the castle were at a premium. More significantly, however, the Viceroy had at his disposal the dispersal of Crown patronage from which every job, sinecure, favour and promotion, in both state and church, emanated. A local magnate was only as good as the patronage he might elicit to dispense within his own locality. To maintain his status in Mayo and to keep the ambitions of local rivals, such as the Earl of Lucan in Castlebar, Viscount Dillon in Costello and O’Donel in Newport, at bay, the Earl of Altamont competed for his share of government spoils.

Based in their Dublin residence at 9 Sackville Street, the earl and his countess, as an intimate of the royal family, were especially feted. More adverse than most to the incessant socialising that accompanied parliamentary sessions, with the exception of presenting Louisa at one of the castle balls, the earl’s time in Dublin tended to revolve around more practical pursuits. He attended lectures at the newly established Royal Dublin Society, where the latest experiments and developments in agriculture were presented. He personally contributed for debate many articles about the innovative agricultural undertakings he employed on his estate in Mayo.

In 1789 all eyes, however, were turned towards France as the revolution moved towards its catastrophic conclusion. Initially news of the overthrow of an out-of-touch French monarchy was greeted with satisfaction by most Protestant and Catholic classes in Ireland, with the exception of the ascendancy and the Catholic clergy. Following the Reign of Terror and despite the atrocities and the usurpation of power by a military dictatorship, the French Revolution continued to inspire. Challenging the established principle of power being the exclusive preserve of hereditary monarchs, it sought to evaluate and change the social and political structure in relation to fundamental values, perceptions in the creation and usage of wealth and in religion and culture. In Ireland, with its immense social and political inequalities, such sentiments found enthusiastic adherents, as well as determined opponents.

Inspired by French revolutionary principles, the Catholic Committee, an organisation founded to elicit political reforms for Catholics and led ineffectually by members of the old Catholic aristocracy, including the Earl of Altamont, was taken over by middle-class radicals. In 1791 the committee’s new secretary, Theobald Wolfe Tone, urged the introduction of religious equality in Ireland and unity between Catholic, Protestant and Dissenter. With the establishment of the Society of United Irishmen in Belfast, Dublin and other locations around the country, for the first time, a united Catholic and Protestant opposition began to emerge.

The response from the British government, under William Pitt, was to introduce a policy of conciliation and reform. This was opposed by elements in the Irish parliament adamant that Catholics should remain excluded from political power. The Williamite confiscations of the previous century still loomed large in the minds of Protestant landowners, who feared a Catholic majority in parliament a threat to ownership of their estates. In 1793, however, the Irish parliament granted Catholic freeholders the right to vote but not the right to stand for parliament or other high office. This served to further infuriate the radicals and to swell the ranks of the United Irishmen. In 1794 the outbreak of war between Britain and France threatened to plunge Ireland into revolution should France make common cause with Irish discontent. As the heads of French aristocrats tumbled daily into baskets at the foot of the guillotine and their property was confiscated, their fate was a gruesome portent to the Irish ascendancy of what might happen should France gain a foothold in Ireland.

The war, however, had a more personal significance for the family of the Earl of Altamont. Reappointed commander of the channel fleet, Admiral Howe experienced manpower shortages aboard his flag ship, the Charlotte. His son-in-law offered to raise a company of one hundred men in Mayo to make up the deficiency. ‘They would have been esteemed very highly,’ Admiral Howe assured him, ‘if they had cordially engaged for the service proposed. I should have cherished them much and felt a different interest than the coldness which men impressed … urges one to profess.’9 Events, however, overtook the earl’s offer and the admiral had to make do with whatever unfortunates the press-gangs dragged from the taverns and brothels of Spithead. On the ‘Glorious First of June’ 1794, after a series of engagements against the French fleet off Ushant, in the first naval battle to carry the tricolour of the new French republic, in one of the bloodiest sea-battles in history, Admiral Howe emerged victorious.

From Windsor Castle King George expressed his gratitude and relief for the victory to Lady Howe, which he adjudged had been won ‘by the skill and bravery of Earl Howe …. The first of June must be reckoned as a proud day for him as it will carry down his Name to the latest posterity. I will not add more than that I trust now both your own mind and that of Lady Mary will be at ease when we must soon hear of his return to Spithead.’10 When the victorious fleet returned to port, the king and queen (in whose honour the admiral’s flagship was named) with their family, together with Lady Howe and her daughter Mary, visited the admiral on board the Charlotte. ‘My father’s knees trembled with emotion when he kissed the king’s hand,’ Lady Mary informed her sister Louisa, ‘who presented him with a most magnificent sword set in diamonds and afterwards a gold chain, to which is to be hung a gold medal struck for the occasion.’11 The admiral conducted the king and royal family on a tour of the Charlotte to meet, as Mary described them, ‘the brave fellows everyone of which I am certain would attend my father to the cannon’s mouth and all of whom have exposed their lives for him’.12 The admiral’s decanters and his desk from the Charlotte were later taken to Westport House, together with his portrait by John Copley.

At the time of her father’s famous victory, Louisa was on the high seas. A reoccurrence of her husband’s rheumatic condition made them once more seek the beneficial climate of Lisbon. Westport, now a precocious boy of six, accompanied them. Their journey to Lisbon brought a stern rebuke from Admiral Howe. England was at war with both France and Spain. Reports of English ships taken by the enemy, and of the indignities to which women passengers, in particular, were subjected, impelled him to remonstrate with his son-in-law.

Joining those reflections … of the resentment which would be shown to my daughter, after our pretty rough business with the French fleet and the good fortune on our side attending it, I cannot suppose that you are unconscious of it. I trust therefore that it will be totally unnecessary for me to urge you not to hazard a similar disaster by her passing back to Lisbon again pending the war.13

The tone of the admiral’s letter and the implication that the earl had placed his wife’s life in danger greatly upset Altamont. The admiral sought to reassure him that he meant merely to point out ‘the great hazards to which you and your family I thought were exposed in crossing the seas on your passage to or from Lisbon in the present state of the war’.14 Events in Ireland, particularly in his native Mayo, conspired to ensure that it was the last sojourn in Lisbon that the earl and his family were to enjoy for fifteen years.