the account of the matter apparently given by Pamela in later days with that furnished by contemporaneous letters, by which the question of her movements is placed beyond all doubt. Hers was a totally different tale-a story, it is necessary to add, so manifestly false, tested both by external and internal evidence, in some of its features, that it is impossible, however charitably disposed, to view this version of the affair in any other light but that of a romance in which, by an after-thought, she assigned to herself the part which she would have desired in retrospect to play. That Pamela, as she asserted, sold her jewels and attempted to bribe the jailer is probable enough. She was generous and open-handed, and was not likely to have spared money in such a case. It has even been suggested that an endeavour to bribe the Newgate officials may furnish a possible explanation of the otherwise inexplicable severity of the Government in banishing her from Ireland. But of the interview with her husband she appears to have represented herself as obtaining, with its melodramatic colouring, there exists no faintest independent proof, and it must be dismissed as either an hysterical delusion or as a pure result of the inventive faculty of Madame de Genlis's pupil.1

So Lord Edward's wife disappears from his historya graceful, slight figure, not without a delicate charm of her own, but most unfit for the stormy scenes

1 See Madden's United Irishmen for the authority on which this story rests.

with which she had been associated in France and Ireland alike, and incapable of grappling with life in its harsher aspects.

It is not necessary to follow her through her subsequent history-her marriage with the American Consul at Hamburg, her separation from her husband, and the events which marked her after-life. One glimpse of her will be enough, and it is still in character.

Thirty years after Lord Edward's death it occurred to her one day-the motive of the disguise is not apparent to visit her early friend, Barère, in the character of her own maid. Recognising in his guest the girl to whom, nearly forty years ago, he had acted the part, required by French law, of "guardian," on the occasion of her marriage, he produced a portrait of herself which he had preserved, and showed it to her.

"Ah, mon Dieu," she exclaimed, no longer attempting to keep up the farce of her incognito, "comme j'étais jolie!" begging the miniature of him, in order that she might prove to another friend how great her past beauty had been.

A year later she died, worth only a hundred francs. The husband from whom she had separated paid her debts, and the funeral was provided by her old playfellow, Madame Adelaide.

CHAPTER XX
1798

Attempts to ensure a Fair Trial-Prince of Wales-Conspiracy to Rescue-Lord Edward's Condition-Harshness of the Government-Refusal to admit his FamilyChange for the Worse-Last Interview with Lady Louisa Conolly and his Brother-Death-And Burial-Summing Up.

L

ORD EDWARD'S friends had lost no time in taking measures to ensure him his best chance

of life. Lady Louisa indeed, judging, after her indulgent fashion, by "dear Lord Castlereagh's distress, felt no doubts as to the good intentions of the Government, so far at least as a strict and impartial administration of justice was concerned. But no effort was left untried by others less confident in the fair dealing of the authorities to obtain the postponement of the trial until such time as the condition of the public nerves, with the absence of the chances of intimidation of jurors and witnesses resulting from the operation of martial law, should promise a more dispassionate treatment of the case than could be hoped for at the present moment of panic.

The Duke of Richmond-moved, as Lord Holland hints, to the greater zeal in the matter by the remembrance of some past acts of unkindness-was urging upon Pitt the necessity of postponement; and, writing to Lord Henry FitzGerald, he added, after enumerating the obvious dangers which would attend an immediate trial, that he convinced himself that the thing was impossible, and that reasonable delay would be allowed. Fox, who is described as "extremely agitated" about his cousin, though personally of opinion that his presence in Ireland would be more detrimental than favourable to Lord Edward's cause, held himself, with Lord Holland, in readiness to cross the Channel without delay, should it be otherwise decided by better judges.

Pressure was also to be brought to bear upon those in high places, to induce them to exert themselves upon the prisoner's behalf.

The Duchess at the feet of the King-such was Colonel Napier's opinion-might do more than politicians or lawyers. Let her therefore stop at no forms or refusals, and never quit him till a pardon was obtained. It was known that the Duke of York had entertained a personal liking for Lord Edward, and had attempted, though in vain, to obtain the cancelling of his expulsion from the army; while the Prince of Wales, in a letter full of kindly sympathy for the disaster which had overtaken the Leinster family, alluded to the arch-rebel as "the unfortunate Edward,” and authorised Mr. Ogilvie to intimate to Lord Clare

the satisfaction which would be afforded him by such a delay as might ensure poor Lord Edward" an impartial trial.

"This, my dear sir," added the Prince, "I have no scruple to admit of your stating in confidence, and with my best compliments to the Lord Chancellor. My long and sincere regard for both the Duchess and Duke of Leinster would have naturally made me wish to exert myself still more, were I not afraid by such exertion I might do more harm than good.'

1

Dublin itself had not accepted passively the loss of the popular leader; and a plot having his rescue for its object had been organised by Neilson-poor, violent, irresponsible Neilson, to whose rashness and folly Lord Edward's capture has been partly attributed. It is impossible not to feel compassion for this member of the dramatis persone of the tragedy, void of principle as he was, now breaking his pledges to Government, by whom he had been released from prison upon his undertaking to join no treasonable conspiracy; now trafficking with its agents, not impossibly with the intention of paying them back in their own coin of treachery; at another time crying

It is a curious testimony to the affection which Lord Edward seems to have had the special faculty of inspiring in all who were brought into personal contact with him that it is said that, on the Prince's first interview with the Duchess at this time, he wept with the tenderness of a woman in speaking of him, giving her further the promise that his friend's little son should not be forgotten by him. It was a promise he fulfilled later on, not only by his attitude in the matter of the attainder, but by appointing the boy, so soon as he left school, to be a cornet in his own regiment.