He had a habit of dropping his state, and going about Dublin, if not like Haroun Alraschid, at least with the independence of men in less august positions.

On one occasion, needing some local information, he went to see the Lord Mayor of Dublin, but finding him out, was given the address of an alderman who could tell him what he wanted to know.

The alderman was not in either, but his wife was, and begged him to stop to lunch, which was just being served.

Lord Carlisle told her he hardly ever ate lunch, and was not in the least hungry.

But under pressure he sat down to the meal, and got on very well with it, whereat the lady remarked:—­

’You see, your Excellency, eating is like scratching:  when you once begin it is hard to stop.’

His predecessor, Lord Clarendon, had been in office when Lord John Russell, the Prime Minister, urged on the House of Commons a bill for the abolition of the Lord-Lieutenancy.  The great point that he made was that the Chief Secretary might become a mayor of the viceregal palace, a thing that has now long been the case, for the Lord-Lieutenant has to be a plutocrat of high descent, and the Chief Secretary is the virtual administrator of Ireland—­a thing unknown, however, until the advent of Mr. Foster.  The second reading was carried by a majority of over a hundred and fifty, but it was then dropped.

The story went that the Duke of Wellington had suggested to Prince Albert the possible diminution of respect for the Crown in Ireland without a visible representative, and the Teutonic mind could not endure such a notion.

Lord Clarendon upheld the dignity of his position, though he was liked by neither party in Ireland.  He is the only Lord-Lieutenant who ever administered sharp discipline to the Orangemen—­who regard their loyalty as permitting them a good deal of licence—­for he removed the name of their leader, Lord Roden, from the Commission of the Peace because he encouraged a turbulent procession at Dolly’s Brae.  With his pompous manner he made a very Brummagem monarch, quite indifferent to his unpopularity.  As a matter of fact, some allege that all Lord-Lieutenants are hated by the disloyal section of the populace, and if they go through the farce of currying popularity, they can only do so by largely patronising about a dozen shopkeepers, who eventually curse because yet more has not been spent.  But this is altogether too limited to be true.

Lord Kimberley followed Lord Carlisle.  In those days he was Lord Wodehouse, and the Fenians used to issue mock proclamations, in ridicule of his, signed ‘Woodlouse.’  He was an experienced parliamentarian—­a man who held office for many years, and worked conscientiously, according to his lights.

In Ireland he always appeared to be a naturalist, perplexed at not understanding the species among which his lot was for the time cast.

His mother was subsequently married to Mr. Crosbie Moore, and she ran away with Colonel Fitz-Gibbon, afterwards Lord Clare.