It was to the famous earl of Strafford that the viceregal court first owed its brilliancy. When he came to Dublin as lord deputy he found the Castle falling to ruins. He had it restored, and lived there in the manner described by a traveled eye-witness, who says that a most splendid court was kept there, and that he had seen nothing like it in Christendom except that of the viceroy of Naples. In one point of grandeur the lord deputy went beyond the Neapolitan, for he could confer honors and dub knights, which that viceroy could not do, or indeed any other he knew of. This splendor was interrupted by the civil wars, but burst forth anew under the viceroyalty of the great duke of Ormond. Matters seem then to have been somewhat irregularly managed. It was a time of great politico-religions excitement, and "Papists" were forbidden to have residences in Dublin. Nevertheless, complaints were made that several Catholic nobles and gentlemen, among whom were Colonel Talbot and the earl of Clancarty, not only took houses, but were received at the Castle, where they joined the duke and the earl of Arran at play, which was often continued till three o'clock in the morning. It was said that they then passed through the gates with their coaches, and drew upon the guard if they attempted to stop them. This good-fellowship did not serve to cement a very close friendship between the parties, for Colonel Talbot was afterward thrown into the Tower on the charge of attempting the duke's life. He was soon freed from captivity and loaded with favors by James II., who made him duke of Tyrconnel and lord lieutenant of Ireland.
When Mrs. Pendarves (_née_ Mary Granville) paid her first visit to Ireland, all was at least outwardly quiet. The Revolution was long past, and the House of Hanover was firmly seated on the throne. The utmost magnificence was displayed by the court at Dublin, and the lady's letters are filled with descriptions of every kind of gayety. The witty dean of St. Patrick's, though nearing the melancholy close of his career, was still exciting by turns the wonder, the amusement and the gratitude of the Irish public. In spite of much that would now be deemed very inconsistent with his calling, Swift had a firm practical belief in the truths he was bound to teach, and was scrupulously careful in the discharge of his public duties. Mrs. Pendarves, who some years later became the wife of Swift's friend, Dr. Delany, a celebrated preacher and afterward dean of Down, was much attracted by the many virtues hidden under the apparent misanthropy of this wonderful man, and kept up a correspondence with him until his intellect failed. Her relative, Lord Carteret, had been the dean's great friend long before he was sent to Ireland as viceroy. A postscript which he added to one of his letters written in 1737 shows what he thought of Swift as a patriot. It ran thus: "When people ask me how I governed Ireland, I say that I pleased Dr. Swift. 'Quæsitam meritis sume superbiam.'" Nevertheless, Swift was too uncompromising to be trusted with power, even by Carteret. He wished very much to be made a trustee of the linen manufactory or a justice of the peace, and complained that he was refused because it was well known he would not job or suffer abuses to pass, though he might be of service to the public in both capacities; "but if he were a worthless member of Parliament or a bishop who would vote for the court and betray his country," then his request would be readily granted. Lord Carteret replied: "What you say is literally true, and therefore you must excuse me." When he asked the archbishop of Cashel and other trustees of the linen manufacture why they would not elect him, the archbishop answered that "he was too sharp a razor, and would cut them all."