In October he ran over to Ireland, and wandered in pathetic silence among the scenes of his boyhood. The day before he left these scenes for ever, he chose { 70} a shady spot in a quiet little churchyard on his Kildare estates, and begged that, if he never returned, he might be brought home and laid there. '13th October,' says the brief entry in his Journal--'Left Palmerstown amid tears and wailing, much leave-taking and great sorrow.'
On Wednesday, the 11th November, 1868, Lord Mayo looked for his last time on the Dover cliffs, and reached Paris the same night. The delicious repose of the voyage to India lay before him; his time was still his own, and he resolved to see everything on the way that could shed light on his new duties. Among other matters, the neglected state of the Indian Records had been pressed upon him at the India Office, and in a then recently published work. With the richest and most lifelike materials for making known the facts of their rule, the English in India still lie at the mercy of every European defamer. Their history--that great story of tenderness to pre-existing rights, and of an ever-growing sense of responsibility to the people--is told as a mere romance of military prowess and government by the sword. When Chief Secretary for Ireland, Lord Mayo had introduced and passed the Act on which the whole Irish Record Department subsists. To that end he had personally studied the method adopted in England, and deputed his friend, Sir Bernard Burke, to report on the French system.
His attention being now directed to the neglected state of the Indian Records, and the necessity for some plan for conserving them and rendering them { 71} available for historical research, he resolved to examine this Department in Paris with his own eyes. 'Went to the Archives,' says his diary of the 14th November, 'and was received by the Director, who showed us all through the rooms. They are in magnificent order, and are situated in the old Hôtel Soubise, with a museum of curious letters and documents for the amusement of the public, divided into the different epochs of the Ancient Kings, the Middle Ages, the Republic, the Empire, and the Monarchy after the peace. The republican documents are kept in _cartons_ which now number upwards of sixty thousand. The arrangement is simple, and access easy. There is a reading-room for the public down-stairs, but small, and the facilities given do not appear to be very great. It is within the power of the Director to refuse access to any document, if he sees fit. There is an enormous safe for the most valuable documents, such as Napoleon's Will, and the last letters of Louis XVI and Marie Antoinette; also a secret drawer containing letters of some of the kings of France, which are not allowed to be seen by any one. There does not seem to be any calendaring going on for the purposes of publication, beyond facsimiles of curious documents.'