This review considers two books of eighteenth-century letters from different parts of the century, different locations and by contrasting publishers. First, Roderick O’Flaherty (1629–1716/18) was an Irish antiquarian, aristocrat, author, collector of Irish manuscripts and linguist. As a historian he published two significant books in his lifetime. The first, H-Iar Connaught (Dublin, 1684), described the barony of Moycullen in County Galway of which his father held the castle and manor (much of which was later confiscated by Oliver Cromwell). The second, Ogygia seu rerum hibernicarum chronologia (London, 1685), was the first work to draw extensively on medieval Irish manuscripts in order to chart the succession of Irish kings and recall the country’s ancient history. Soon after publication O’Flaherty took offence to published remarks made by Sir George Mackenzie (c 1637–91), Lord Advocate of Scotland, which prompted him to write a lengthy justification of his research entitled Ogygia Vindicated – a book not published in his lifetime.
Because of a lack of documentary evidence O’Flaherty has not received the scholarly attention he deserves. This erudite, well-researched and handsomely produced book goes a long way in righting that wrong. Richard Sharpe, Professor of Diplomatic at Oxford and Fellow of Wadham College, draws on fifty-seven, mostly unpublished, letters written between December 1696 and June 1709 to explore the life and personality of this scholarly maverick. The consequence is a privileged glimpse into the world of a fragile O’Flaherty − a bibliophile engaged with theology, failing in health, isolated in the provinces and, as a consequence, at times distrustful of the wider academic world.
A constant theme of the correspondence is O’Flaherty’s tenacious quest for patronage – something he had already achieved from one correspondent but failed in securing from the other two. It is unfortunate that only two letters survive from the correspondence with the patron of Ogygia, the antiquarian, author, lawyer, natural philosopher and parliamentary member for Dublin University, William Molyneux (1656–98). Although the two letters, both previously published, tell us little about their personal relationship, Professor Sharpe admirably rectifies the situation with an exceptionally detailed introduction, scholarly annotations to the letters and details of their personal and professional friendship.
O’Flaherty’s correspondence with William Molyneux’s son, Samuel (1698–1728), then Secretary of the Dublin Philosophical Society but, from the Hanoverian Succession, Secretary to the Prince of Wales, later King George ii, is far more substantial. Reproduced here are twenty-six letters written between 13 March 1708 and 21 June 1709. It was the 19-year-old Samuel who began corresponding with O’Flaherty, fifty-nine years his senior, driven by the revival of the Dublin Philosophical Society. The letters take a cordial approach at first, genially discussing matters of antiquarianism, history and natural philosophy. However, Molyneux’s manner soon changes towards a less committed approach as the correspondence builds towards a much-anticipated meeting on 20 April 1709 at Park, O’Flaherty’s home in Connaught. The visit appears not to have been a great success. In his own travel log Molyneux wrote: ‘I went to vizit [sic] O’Flaherty, who lives very old, in a miserable condition at Park … I expected to have seen some old Irish manuscripts, but his ill-fortune has stripped him of these as well as his other goods.’ Perhaps realising that he had little to gain from continuing the friendship, Molyneux ceased to write with immediate effect – prompting O’Flaherty to write to him in June 1709 concerned about the ‘long silence since you left’.
The book’s most rewarding correspondence is with the Welsh polymath and keeper of Oxford’s Ashmolean Museum, Edward Lhwyd (1659/60–1709). The pair first met in Galway in 1700 and corresponded for the next nine years until shortly before Lhwyd’s death. It is clear that Lhwyd respected O’Flaherty’s linguistic skills as he turned to his Irish colleague for comments on his Irish–English dictionary, which was published in 1708 as part of Lhwyd’s Archaeologia Britannica. On Christmas Eve 1704 O’Flaherty wrote of Lhwyd’s delight in reading Ogygia Vindicated, although his hope that the Welshman would help him get the work published came to nothing. The twenty-nine letters between the two men are intriguing in that they are devoid of news and personal referencing but strong in discussing books, in particular Archaeologia Britannica, The Scottish Historical Library by William Nicolson, Bishop of Carlisle, and Ogygia Vindicated, in which Bishop Nicolson’s book features heavily. Other subjects occurring in the letters are linguistics and mutual contacts such as Thomas Molyneux (1661–1733), brother of William and uncle of Samuel.
The real achievements of this book are first, its sheer scope, and second, the infectious enthusiasm of its author. Alongside the Irishman’s letters sits a comprehensive biography, a full bibliographic review of his writings, a full account of the provenance of the letters and encyclopaedic appendices that deal with the known whereabouts of copies of Ogygia, books cited and used by O’Flaherty and details of O’Flaherty’s manuscripts found in the collections of Edward Southwell (1767–1834), twenty-first Baron de Clifford – a collection that was dispersed in 1834. As you would expect from such a thoroughly researched volume the index of letters, bibliography and general index cannot be faulted.
For scholars of Irish antiquities and early Enlightenment philosophy this book is indispensable. There are a few distractions to consider. The first is the proliferation of footnotes, which are clearly aimed at complementing the text but often deter by their length and complexity. On occasions the interest of the author creates diversions in lines of enquiry, some of which are superfluous and confusing while others complement the text, for example, the detailed description of the early eighteenth-century postal system. Production standards are very high, in particular the beautiful marbled-effect endpapers, although a noticeable omission is a dust jacket, which leaves the book looking bereft. However, these are minor issues for a book that has already won the Irish Print Award for Books 2013.
By contrast there is no doubt that the second book considered here, Life in an Eighteenth-century Country House: letters from The Grove, is aimed at the general reader rather than being an academic study. As such, it is well written, highly readable, engaging and well illustrated. However, for this reviewer, the title raises expectations of a well-rounded study of life in a country house during the eighteenth century – something the book just does not deliver.
The first problem is the narrow context of the research, which draws on a single property, Grove House in Chiswick, owned by the unproductive politician and landowner Humphrey Morice (1723–85). As a case study the book lacks setting and background, which undoubtedly would have helped place Grove House and its staff in some context with other gentry properties of the period. Secondly, the title indicates that the authors are dealing with the eighteenth century, a notion soon dashed when it becomes clear that the bulk of the book consists of twenty transcribed letters written between August 1783 and September 1785. These letters, acquired by Chiswick Library in 1996 from a private collector and carefully transcribed by volunteers, are reproduced in full with valuable notes that help the reader make sense of the more involved issues such as an attempted armed robbery and a visit by the local Poor Law officers in relation to an illegitimate child fathered by a stable hand. A third issue surrounds the implication that we are dealing with arrangements inside the Georgian house. Morice spent much time abroad for health reasons and was in Lausanne and Naples when he received letters from his head groom, William Bishop. These letters, despite being of great interest in themselves, tell us little about domestic household business but a good deal about the estate work at The Grove, for which Bishop seems to have been responsible.
The tone of the correspondence is conversational and often quite gossipy, discussing matters ranging from petty staff disputes to medical incidentals and from minor financial details to the weather. Of greater interest is the strong emphasis placed on animal welfare as displayed in the first letter, which starts ‘Honoured Sir. Last Tuesday we had a strange dog come into the yard, pleasure ground and park and bit several of our dogs and one of our horses, Old Tack that came from Marshgate’. Morice’s interest and devotion to his animals comes across very strongly in these letters from his groom, a point reinforced in a codicil to his will, dated 10 October 1782, when he ordered ‘six hundred a year from my estates in Devon and Cornwall to pay the maintenance of the horses and dogs I leave behind me and for the expense of the servants to look after them besides Will Bishop the groom’.
Although the letters are the book’s raison d’être, supporting chapters provide a biography of Humphrey Morice – who purchased The Grove in 1776 – which, although brief, is well researched and presented, and a narrative history of the Grove estate which has a purpose but leaves the reader wanting something more substantial. The appendices that explore Morice’s associates and friends, his portraits and a full transcription of his will and codicils have some peripheral interest but do not connect well with the text so are of limited value. The index is comprehensive while the bibliography is a little thin. The connection between letters, biography, estate history and appendices is not always convincing, thereby making the book appear at times quite fragmented in its structure.
These letters show how an absent master could interact with the day-to-day management of his landed estate. As such they are a valuable resource and therefore deserve a wider audience. The book would have benefited from the inclusion of more context of estate business and staff roles, better planning and a more appropriate title – proof, perhaps, of the old adage that one should ‘never judge a book by the cover’.
