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'Moniteur,' and other journals, had for its object to demonstrate that a large disposable military force still remained in Paris. The contradiction of that statement by anticipation was interpreted, and fairly so, by the court-martial, as conveying information to the enemy. The Mr. Smith, to whom the letter of Somers was addressed, was the brother-in-law and private secretary of Lord Castlereagh, then Secretary of Foreign Affairs of His Majesty George III. From the exclamation of Captain Murphy, before throwing Somers's letter behind the fire, it will be seen that the character of the latter was suspected. Murphy, and the chief portion of the Irish in France at that day bore allegiance and attachment to Napoleon, and despised and detested both the treason and the traitor in the person of Somers. After his death, his wife (through an allowance of the British Government, it was believed, and which must have been liberal) was able to give a very considerable dower with her daughter on her marriage. I have heard so large a sum as £12,000 sterling. On the Restoration, the Abbé Ferris was provided for by the place, President of the Irish College. A battalion of the Garde Royale would have been more to his taste, but to preserve discipline in the Irish College gave him some occupation, and thus the years wore on. Early in the month of March, 1815, the arrival of Napoleon at Cannes, from Elba, became known in Paris. That which alarmed all other royalists, however, had no terrors for this worthy son of Ireland, and of the church militant. He heard of the return of Napoleon to France. with as much indifference as he would have received during a campaign an order to storm a battery; but the 30th of that month came, bringing with it Napoleon himself. The approach of the Emperor was announced to the President of the Irish College in more than one form. The most significant was the ascent of two of the students (A B. and John O'M.) to the roof of the college, and their removal of the white flag, which during a year had floated peacefully over its walls, and their substitution of the tricolor for it. On learning these facts, the president looked queer and decamped. After the Hundred Days, however, he returned to Paris, and found that the Rev. Paul Long had been appointed president of the Irish College in his absence. You must withdraw,' said the absolute Ferris, in he tone of the late Lord Canterbury, to the then incumbent. I won't,' said the meek Paul Long. I have no orders to receive from you.' Then I will put a padlock on the door, and keep you and your staff prisoners; or if you and they leave for a moment, you shall not re-enter. Ultimately the Abbé Ferris became once more President of the Irish College. How he conducted the establishment up to a certain period does not appear; but at length he contrived to involve himself in some difficulties with the Minister for Public Instruction (Hely d'Oissel, himself the son of an Irishman), and who, in an order issued in his official capacity to the Irish College, had wounded the amour propre of the captain of grenadiers, as I have just stated, whereupon, in the French fashion, the Abbé provided himself with two seconds (both Irishmen), and caused them to deliver to the Minister a cartel with this inscription: My arm is the sword.' The reply was instantaneous. He directed the Abbé Ferris to re

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move sixty leagues from Paris, and to remain in a town indicated, until he was permitted to return to the capital. M. Hely d'Oissel added: With respect to the parties who presented your insolent message, I am in search of evidence of their identity. If they prove, as I suspect they will, other than native-born Frenchmen, they shall be forthwith expelled the French territory.' This missive troubled the Abbé Ferris considerably. The persons who had accepted the office of seconds to him, were officers who had served in the Imperial army of France, and of whose Bonapartism there was something stronger in the books than mere surmise. Their expulsion as foreigners would not be refused by government however, and would necessarily cause to them, among other inconveniences, the loss of their half-pay; for, with a becoming regard to economy, the full or halfpay of the French officer is suspended from the moment of his departure from the French soil, unless with the special permission of the government. The Abbé Ferris was therefore much concerned for the fate that awaited his witnesses. He was not a man to remain inactive under such circumstances, however, particularly when the hours of his own sojourn in Paris were numbered. He repaired, therefore, at once to General Count Daniel O'Connell (uncle of the late more celebrated man of that name), and stated the whole case, imploring his interference for their countrymen, his two seconds; For myself,' said he, I would scorn to ask indulgence of the mon. grel Minister, who is only Irish by the father's side.' 'I think it would be useless, moreover,' said the veteran O'Connell. You must submit. Give yourself no trouble about your seconds. I and O'Mahony will represent them. I shall see the latter immediately on the subject.' Ferris, overpowered by this kindness, took his leave, and left Paris that night; and Generals O'Connell and O'Mahony intimated to M. Hely d'Oissel without delay, that if he desired to know further respecting the persons who presented the hostile message he had received, they were ready to answer him in any way he might require; and that they, Generals O'Connell and O'Mahony, assumed the entire responsibility of the act. This proceeding saved from exile two distinguished soldiers, whose banishment would have been destructive of their prospects; for, being political refugees before their entry into the French service, their resources in their native land would have been unavailable for them. The brave and respectable veterans, O'Connell and O'Mahony, received their acknowledgments in the manner that may be conceived; adding, however, that, in fact, they ran no risk, being unassailable by M. Hely d'Oissel;' but that had it been otherwise, they would not have hesitated to devote themselves for fellow-countrymen, even though there existed between them no political sympathy.' Here the matter dropped. The Abbé Ferris returned to the Irish College, but did not evince so much generosity as Generals O'Connell and O'Mahony, for he opposed the re-admission to the college of the two students who had in the Second Restoration been expelled, for hoisting the tricolor flag on the college in March, 1815. Generals Counts O'Connell and O'Mahony both lived to an advanced age. I remember meeting the former in Dublin in the year 1816 or 1817. He was,

like all the senior members of his family who I have seen, a man of large stature; and was, moreover, as much distinguished for urbanity as bravery. General O'Connell was a superior officer previously to the Revolution of 1789. He was selected to prepare a code of regulations for the entire French infantry, similar to that composed by General Dundas for the British service, and which was maintained by Napoleon. After his removal from the Presidency of the Irish College, the Abbé Ferris conceived and entered upon a new line of occupation. He became a lawyer; and in the management of British claims with regard to the seven hundred millions of francs in which France was amerced by the Allied Powers, he displayed shrewdness and talent, and realised large profits. He died in the year 1829. He and Somers will possibly be held to have done little credit to their country or their sacred calling, Somers especially. The direction of the establishment which Ferris had in some sort usurped, has since been placed into able and worthy hands, and has consequently been eminently successful. In Somers, treason was fitly punished by treachery."

Of the Abbé Edgeworth, and of the less known Abbé Kearney, successor to Ferris, we are given the following interesting particulars :

"For the honour of Ireland, two of her sons, the celebrated Abbé Edgeworth and this simple retiring individual (Kearney) were in attendance on the unfortunate King Lous XVI. of France, at the moment of his execution. History mentions the Abbe Edgeworth only, but the second, the Abbé Kearney, was also present; not officially, for the powers which then ruled would have rejected a demand for a plurality of confessors or chaplains, and would probably have refused permission for even one to approach their august victim. The Abbé Kearney's presence was therefore voluntary; but I recollect his saying that if not desired by, it was known to the King that he wished to attend on that heart-rendering occasion. The conduct of the Abbé Edgeworth on that melancholy occasion, is well known. He united the most ardent zeal of a minister of religion, to courage and devotion to his royal patron in the presence of almost certain death. These, together with his other claims on respect, are inseparably connected with an event, the history of which ensures immortality to him, and sheds lustre on his country. Respecting the execution of the unhappy monarch Louis XVI., I spoke to the Abbé Kearney more than once. His replies were brief, and were accompanied by evidence that the subject caused him much pain. The following simple narrative is all that I could obtain from him. I arrived,' said he, in the Place de la Révolution before the King, and managed to reach the scaffold just as the carriage in which he sat with the Abbé Edgeworth and two gendarmes approached from the Rue Royale. The front ranks of the crowd which surrounded the scaffold were principally sans-culottes, who evinced the most savage joy in anticipation of the impending tragedy. The scaffold was so situated as to provide for the royal sufferer a pang to which less distinguished victims were insensible. It stood between the


pedestal on which had been erected a statue of Lous XV., thrown early in the Revolution, and the issue from the garden of the Tuileries, called the Pont Tournant. Midway between those two points, a hideous statue of Liberty raised her Gorgon head. This situation was chosen in order to realise a conception characteristic of the epoch and the frantic fiends who figured in it. It ensured that the unhappy persons on being placed on the bascule of the guillotine, should, in their descent from the perpendicular to the horizontal when pushed home to receive the fatal stroke, make an obeisance to the goddess! Yes, even to that frivolity in a matter_so appalling did the monsters directing those butcheries resort. For the King this position of the guillotine was therefore peculiarly painful, for, looking beyond the statue of Liberty the Palace of the Tuileries appeared at the end of the grand avenue, and upon it his last glance in this world must have rested. Scarcely had the King descended, when Samson, the executioner, and his aids approached him to make his toilette,† as the preparation of the victim for death was termed. He had a large head of hair, confined by a ribbon according to the fashion of the day. Upon this Samson seized with one hand, brandishing a pair of huge scissors in the other. The King, whose hands were yet free, opposed the attempt of Samson to cut off his hair, a precaution necessary, however, to ensure the operation of the axe. The executioner's assistants rushed upon him. He struggled with them violently and long, but was at length overcome and bound. His hair was cut off in a mass and thrown upon the ground, It was picked up by an Englishman who was in front of the scaffold, and who put it in his pocket, to the scandal of the sans-culottes, who like him were in the first rank of spectators. As we never heard more about the circumstance I suppose this person was murdered. When the bustle occasioned by this incident was over, the King ascended the scaffold. All that followed with regard to him is well known.' 'Is it not true, Abbé?' said I, 'that the Abbé Edgeworth uttered, as the king was mounting the short flight of steps leading to the scaffold, those sublime words of encouragement: Fils de Saint Louis, montez au ciel!' 'No,' he replied; but while the King was struggling with the executioner and his men, as I have just described, the Abbé Edgeworth recommended resignation to him, adding (and these words suggested possibly the phrase ascribed to him): You have only one sacrifice more to make in this life before you enjoy life eternal-submit to it.' The execution over, the Abbé Edgeworth and I were advised to withdraw as quickly as possible. I suppose the illustrious Malesherbes was present to take a last farewell of his royal master and client, for the cloak of his coachman was obtained and cast round Edgeworth, under favour of which he retired. Nevertheless he must have been pursued, for

"The site of the obelisk brought from Thebes, which was placed on it in 1836."

"Another of the horrible gaieties of the time. The guillotine itself was called the national window.'"

he found it necessary to take refuge in a little milliner's shop, in the Rue du Bac, whence by a back door he made his escape.' And you?' "I reached home safely, but was subsequently arrested, and passed three years in the Temple.' This account of the execution of Louis XVI. is perfectly consistent with all those published on the subject, except that it demolishes the memorable exclamation attributed to the Abbé Edgeworth, which, had I not reliance upon the veracity of the Abbé Kearney, there appear many reasons for believing was not uttered."

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"After his release from the Temple, the Abbé Kearney appears to have been an object of suspicion for every government of France which followed to the period of the Restoration. On the occurrence of every émeute, or the discovery of every conspiracy, he was taken into custody as a matter of course. On the explosion of the Infernal Machine-that incident so fatal to many innocent persons, and so disgraceful to the partizans of the Bourbon dynasty-the Abbé Kearney was one of the first of the many suspected persons who were arrested. 6 I was on my way to my old quarters in the Temple,' said he to me, accompanied by two police agents in coloured clothes, who allowed me to walk before them free. On crossing the Pont Neuf, I saw approaching a former friend and pupil, Mathieu de Montmorency. He drew up, and as I passed close to him said, in an under-tone, in English (a language I had taught him): 'Unhappy man! I know whither you are going. Will they never allow you to be quiet?' Now I had no knowledge of nothing whatever to do with-the Infernal Machine.' The Abbé Kearney did not remain long in prison on this charge. The real authors of the atrocious deed were discovered, and several of them met the just punishment of their crime. The man who actually fired the match by which it was made to explode, however, escaped. I found him one day, in the year 1835, at the house of the late Mr. Lewis Goldsmith, in Paris, who introduced him to me. He was a rather shrewd-looking man, of apparently a low class in society. The Abbé Kearney died in Paris, in the year 1827, and was buried in the cemetery of Mont Parnasse. The Abbé Edgeworth remained concealed in Paris after the slaughter of his original penitent the admirable Princess Elizabeth, the purest victim offered on the revolutionary scaffold, to whom he owed his introduction to her brother the King. During the sixteen months which elapsed between the execution of her brother and her own death, the Abbé Edgeworth contrived to correspond with and console her. His mission being, as he considered, terminated with her sacrifice, on the 10th of May, 1794, be retired into Germany, and continued attached to the Princes and the French soldiers who fought under them during twelve or thirteen years. He died at Mittau, the capital of Courland, of a fever caught while attending some wounded French soldiers."

The following notices of the once famous "Waterloo Kelly," a member of the Kildare family known as "the Kellys of the Curragh," may also interest our readers:

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