DEATH OF O’CONNELL.
The political events of the year were much influenced in every way by the absence of Mr. O’Connell from public life, and by his death. Early in the year his powers of mind and body became so much enfeebled, that his physicians insisted upon his leaving London, and upon his excluding all intelligence concerning Ireland. In obedience to these directions, he took up his abode at Hastings; but, although some intervals of apparent recovery occurred, he sank gradually until the imminency of his danger became evident to his friends and to himself. He had a wish to live, probably that he might continue the struggle for the great object of his life—the ascendancy of his religion, and the greater political power of his country. As the spring advanced, his friends were of opinion that a journey to Italy might benefit him; he, believing that his illness was fatal, wished to go to Rome, that he might die there with the blessing of the pope to sanctify the closing scene. His illness increased so rapidly that he was not able to reach Rome, and died at Genoa. A post mortem examination revealed that his brain was extensively diseased, accounting for the melancholy which pervaded his illness. Old age, the failure of his hopes, prophecies, and schemes after the Emancipation Act, and deep mental anxieties about the distress of his country, the divisions in the repeal party, and the hopelessness of his agitation, caused his death. He had attained a good old age (seventy-four), and departed this life on the 15th of May. His latest anxieties were lest he should be buried alive, and he gave to his confessor, physician, and servant, constant and peculiar directions to guard against such a casualty. His heart he bequeathed to Rome! The tidings of his death reached Dublin on the 25th. Immediately placards were issued from Conciliation Hall, and were posted in town and country, announcing the event. The people gathered in crowds wherever a placard was seen, and perused it with deep sorrow, the men moving silently away, or gathering in groups to talk earnestly concerning the deceased and the prospects of their country—the women in many cases uttering loud lamentations. The bells of the Roman Catholic chapels tolled mournfully, and arrangements were made to offer public prayers for the soul of the deceased. Probably there was not a Roman Catholic in Ireland that did not privately offer such petitions upon the reception of the intelligence. The Repeal Association summoned an especial meeting to prepare an address to the people of Ireland suitable to the occasion. The corporation met and adjourned for three weeks as a mark of respect. The Roman Catholics of Ireland, and such Protestants as were considered liberal, made every manifestation of respect for the memory of the great leader. Ireland, in the midst of her starvation and sickness, felt a still deeper sorrow—the whole land appeared in mourning.
The mortal remains of the great popular chief were conveyed to Dublin, and on the 5th of August they were interred in the Glassnevin Cemetery. The day preceding the Reverend Dr. Miley preached his funeral sermon at the Metropolitan Chapel, Marlborough Street. It was an eloquent eulogy upon the character of the departed; his errors, personal and political, were passed over, and the idea pervaded the discourse that the departed was a martyr and saint.
The funeral procession was one of the most remarkable which had ever been witnessed in Ireland,—when the character of the deceased, his influence upon public affairs, the national feeling, the intense curiosity excited, and the conduct of the ceremonial, were considered. At twelve o’clock the corpse was removed from the Metropolitan Chapel. The procession was a mile and a half (Irish) in length, composed of the Trades’ Unions on foot, followed by the triumphal car which had been used to convey him from Richmond Penitentiary to his house in Merrion Square, when his acquittal of the charge upon which he had been incarcerated was pronounced by the House of Lords. The coffin was placed on a large open hearse, constructed with very little regard to taste. The hearse was covered with rich Genoa velvet. It was immediately followed by the family of the deceased, his personal and political friends, and a large assembly of the Roman Catholic bishops and clergy. All along the route to Glassnevin, multitudes were assembled in the streets and windows, and even upon the house-tops. Persons came from very great distances in the country to be present at the interment, or take some part in the ceremonial. At the cemetery the services appropriate to the Roman Catholic religion were conducted, and the coffin was consigned to a vault prepared for its reception. The site selected for the place of sepulture was the best which the cemetery afforded, and the whole scene was solemn and impressive. It was a public funeral, worthy of a great man, by a people whom he had zealously, faithfully, and disinterestedly served. It was computed that one hundred thousand persons were present. There was a deep gloom upon the people when the ceremony was over. The religious ceremonies prescribed by the Roman Catholic Church for eminent persons deceased, were continued for a considerable time.
Thus passed away a man whose name will long remain upon the pages of his country’s history, and whose influence upon the whole empire of Great Britain was greater than was publicly recognised at the time, and than historians have since recorded.
The fate of the reform bill very much depended upon the support accorded to it by Daniel O’Connell. It is probable that the bill would have been lost without the support of the Irish liberals, led by the agitator. To the repeal of the corn laws he also rendered effective aid, although his oratory in favour of that measure appeared to be less hearty than that on behalf of the reform bill. The impression prevailed very extensively among the great body of the free-traders that, while O’Connell agreed with their theory, and deemed it politic to co-operate with them, he did not regard it as immediately beneficial to Ireland, and did not feel personally cordial to the movement. On many local church questions, also, and to a very great extent, on colonial matters, the influence of the Irish leader was felt in parliament by the parties most interested, and by the governments. For a time the scale of office was held in his hand; he made and unmade ministers. He was not corrupt, or place, power, and pension might have been obtained by him and his. After his death some members of his family did receive government situations, and even before his death connexions of his obtained such advantages; but they were in all cases fit for the posts to which they were appointed, and filled them with honour—nor was the emolument much, in any case. On the whole, the Whigs did not treat the family of O’Connell with gratitude. He had more than once put them into power, and frequently, when the certainty of their losing office without his aid occurred, he gave them the requisite assistance. He was often—indeed, always—in some measure their opponent; but this rather strengthened them in Great Britain, while on great party divisions “the tail” was always to be relied upon by the Whig cabinet. Never had a public man such opportunity of raising himself to the most elevated offices, and securing emolument for himself and his family—never were these temptations more faithfully resisted. Yet O’Connell did not disdain office, and he especially valued promotion and honours in his own profession: but these things were nothing to him in comparison with what he regarded to be his mission. He was fully convinced that God had raised him up for the especial purpose of serving the Roman Catholic religion, and, in connection with that of serving his country, he pursued this object with unswerving fidelity. If he could have obtained high office, and thereby have inflicted no injury upon the cause which he espoused, he would have eagerly sought a position in the cabinet or on the bench; he would have been as much opposed to the repeal of the union as Mr. Lucas, the editor of the Tablet, and other English Roman Catholics, if he had believed that it would injure the Roman Catholic religion. Many supposed that he was never sincere in prosecuting repeal; while others, whose opportunities of judging were ample, believed that he was most honest in that agitation: in fact, both were right. As an Irishman, he had a desire that his country should cease to be a province, and he probably believed that her resources, moral, intellectual, and material, were sufficient to maintain the dignity and power of a nation; it was also his conviction that the repeal of the union would be a means of improving the government and social condition of Ireland, but he chiefly regarded it as an instrument for the aggrandisement of his religion. It would enable the Roman Catholic party to suppress the distribution of Protestant tracts and bibles, to silence Protestant controversialists, and to treat bible-readers and circuit-preachers as vagabonds and disturbers of the peace. O’Connell’s speeches abound with expressions of opinion, that it was the duty of the British government to do all these things in deference to the wishes of the Roman Catholics, they being a majority. He invariably held up all attempts to “proselyte the people” as a crime which ought to be punishable by law; and where the government failed “to protect the people from the bible men, saints, soupers, and fanatics” (the names which he generally applied to earnest Protestants in his abusive and bigoted polemical speeches), then the people should use all means within the law—a sort of qualification never intended to be accepted by those to whom it was addressed—“to put down” all persons obnoxious to the religious hostility of the priests. In the earlier part of his career he was accustomed, with the assistance of Brick, O’Dwyer, and others of his followers, to disturb the religious public meetings called by Protestants, especially associations for the distribution of the bible. O’Connell and his colleagues would intrude upon such meetings, often attended by a violent rabble, whose language and behaviour on these occasions were coarse and brutal. The intruders would propose amendments to the resolutions submitted to the members of these societies, and make violent speeches at the meetings, full of ridicule and abuse, which were loudly applauded by the mob, who forced their way in to support these proceedings. When the advocates of the resolutions attempted to reply, they were met by hootings, and sometimes by violence. There was always a perfect understanding between the mob who intruded below, and the gentlemen who made their way or were invited to the platform. The latter affected to protest against the tumult while it went on, but afterwards extenuated or denied it in the newspapers, or in speeches elsewhere, averring that the clergymen and laymen, who convened the meeting, were unable to answer the arguments of the Catholic champions. In many of these meetings free discussion was secured, and faithful reports of the arguments on both sides were published in newspapers and pamphlets, with the result of shaking the faith of many Roman Catholics in various parts of the country: the agitators, under O’Connell’s advice, then gave up this mode of procedure, and shunned all such meetings. O’Connell also perceived that he had created a prejudice against himself, his country, and his creed in England, by the violence he connived at, and the bigotry which he uttered.
Repeal of the union, besides enabling him to accomplish the class of religious objects thus described, would also have given him power to transfer the funds of the Irish Established Church to the Roman Catholic. He and most of his followers having loudly professed “the voluntary principle,” it may seem to readers, cognisant of that fact, and unacquainted with the modes of procedure adopted by the Irish popular party, as unlikely that those who composed it, or, at all events, he who led it, would ever desire the establishment of the Roman Catholic Church in Ireland. The truth is, that most of the men who declaimed in favour of the voluntary principle were chiefly actuated, like O’Connell himself, in their political agitation, by the desire and hope of Roman Catholic ascendancy. The great repeal leader proved at last that he was utterly insincere in these protestations of voluntarism, for afterwards, during the English agitation concerning the Maynooth grant, he turned “the voluntaries” and their principle into open ridicule. He had served his turn of them, and then held them and the principles he pretended in common with them to support, in derision. Yet O’Connell was not a dishonest politician, apart from his religious mission. He was a man to be trusted in political engagements; few public men of the day would act with such truth and honour to party, and in any purely political contest or interest. When the promotion of his Church was concerned, his conduct proved that he believed a doctrine which he often repudiated—that the end sanctified the means. He was educated a Jesuit, was one in spirit, was allied with them in the purposes and objects of his private life, and his public policy. If any considerable amount of Romish influence could have been introduced to the British cabinet, with the hope that it would become a permanent element in the government of England, O’Connell would have been the deadliest enemy of repeal: the Roman Catholic Church in Ireland would have put down repeal as injurious to it. The Young Irelanders would have still agitated for Irish independence; but they would have been mobbed, or assassinated, or otherwise soon crushed as a party. The Protestants would then have been the repealers. The argument of Mr. Lucas, that repeal would weaken the Irish Roman Catholic body, through the influence of the English government upon the colonies and foreign states, was that which prevailed with so many Romanists of respectability in Ireland, and with the English Roman Catholic party, in keeping them aloof from the repeal agitation, and inducing them even to oppose it; nor was O’Connell himself free from the effect of such a consideration. His professions of the supreme value of repeal were based upon the conviction that it was hopeless to overcome the religious hostility of the British people to any increased influence of Romanism in the government; yet he lingered on, hoping against this conviction, and feeling the difficulty, if not desperation, of the task he imposed upon himself, declaring still that he would only turn to repeal as the dernier ressort, and that his first cry was “Justice to Ireland.” Had everything been conceded which was claimed, “Justice to Ireland” would still have been, the cry, on the ground that, being an integral part of the United Kingdom, she was entitled to see her religion established in a fair proportion of the colonies, or placed on a par with the English Church in them all. With O’Connell and with Ireland the grievances were religious; the social evils of Ireland were abetted by many who were repealers: yet there was a sense of political injustice, and a patriotic desire on the part of O’Connell and the people for the glory of Ireland, so far as it was not necessary to merge that in the glory of Rome. Civil and religious liberty for Ireland and for the world were not desired by either the Irish Roman Catholic party or their political champion. The spirit of the speeches at Conciliation Hall, of the Irish press in that interest,—even of the Irish press in the Whig service, which was conducted by Romanists, and the tone of confidential conversation among Irish Roman Catholics at that period, all proved this allegation. Foreign despotisms, if Protestant, were abused and denounced; if Romish, they were treated with respect, and sympathy in case of any disturbance in their dominions; or if it were not for the moment politic to abet their proceedings, their misdeeds were passed over in silence. All the social wrongs and civil tyrannies practised at Rome were upheld as warmly in Ireland, and especially in Conciliation Hall, as they could have been in the conclave of cardinals. One of the favourite topics of the day among the Roman Catholics of Ireland, even amidst their sufferings, during 1847, (and subsequently still more so), was the prospect of the Roman Catholic religion becoming the established religion of the United States, through the instrumentality of the Irish and German Roman Catholics of the immigration. While they cried aloud for religious equality for themselves, they carried on in Ireland a fierce and brutal religious persecution, which was only restrained by the influence of the more enlightened and liberal laymen of their own communion, and by fear of the law; the impolicy of such a cause was not sufficient to check the raging zealotry which so extensively prevailed. All this O’Connell sanctioned and fostered, and, except when doing so would hamper his policy or political relations in England, he invited it.
Intellectually, O’Connell was a giant. His grasp of mind was comprehensive and tenacious; and he was capable of reasoning clearly whenever his religious bias allowed of his doing so dispassionately. His perception was quick, keen, and discriminating, especially where character was concerned. His knowledge of human nature was profound, although he had not been a successful student of metaphysics. His eloquence was more varied than that of any other man of his times; and he possessed the faculty of adapting himself to his audience, and to the changing feelings of an audience, to a degree which few men ever attain. In a moment he could melt a popular audience to tears or convulse it with laughter. He could be plain or ornate, coarse or courteous. The eloquence of invective and vituperation was carried by O’Connell to a very inglorious perfection. His eulogies were as dextrous and expressive as they were, nevertheless, morally repugnant to honest minds. The writer of these lines has heard him address a mob of peasants in the county of Waterford on repeal, and an assembly of Quakers, Methodists, and “other sectaries,” as he would himself call them, in the city of Cork, on an anti-slavery occasion, with equal effect. His broad-brimmed and sedate audience were as much delighted with his elegant and pathetic eloquence in favour of humanity and natural rights, as his peasant mob were while he discoursed to them upon the certainty and glory of repeal, and declared that “they were the finest peasantry in the world.” On the one occasion his action was graceful, and at times expressive even to sublimity; on the other, it was bold and broadly natural, nor less expressive of the passion he felt or simulated, and endeavoured to excite. He possessed the oratory necessary for an Irish tribune, and that which was adapted to the English senator: In his profession he held a high place. Having given up his life to politics and polemics, he could not have become a first authority in law, but he was unsurpassed as a counsel, especially in criminal cases. Most men thought that he had not the mental and moral qualities necessary for the bench, while he was pre-eminently the man of the bar. This, however, is hardly a fair estimate of him. He possessed in a remarkable degree all those qualities in an advocate which entitle him to cherish the ambition of becoming a judge. From the judgment-seat, when his bigotry did not blind him, O’Connell would have given charges as luminous and just as his speeches in court were powerful specimens of effective advocacy. His general attainments were very considerable. The writer of this history once took part in a conversation where O’Connell displayed a knowledge of Biblical criticism, and a capacity to apply what knowledge of that description which he possessed, which was very astonishing. On the same occasion he brought forth stores of ecclesiastical history, which proved that, although his studies had been confined to a particular school on that subject, his reading within the limits of that school were very extensive, and his memory altogether extraordinary. He had the faculty of attaching men strongly to him, not only as a party-leader, but as a man and a friend. Many thought him jealous of the fame of other orators of his time; but there is no just ground for this. No man approached him in reputation except Richard Lalor Shiel. O’Connell did not betray in public any jealousy of this great oratorical rival; but he often indicated, where he did not profess it, a distrust of his good faith— and the suspicions of the leader were not ill founded: Shiel was never in earnest in his arguments for the separation of the Irish from the English parliament, but preferred the policy of infusing Roman Catholic influence: he also preferred a high imperial position to that of a provincial demagogue. This, in the opinion of the Irish popular party, was treason to Ireland; and no doubt O’Connell sympathised with that feeling, and suspected that the man second only in power to himself was neither so ardent an Irishman or Roman Catholic as his countrymen desired him to be. This feeling on O’Connell’s part will account for many acts towards Shiel which were set down to personal jealousy. Dr. Michelsen is very unjust to O’Connell in the following critique upon his character:—“His greatest fault was no doubt his egotism; he could not endure a rival at his side, and would not have hesitated to annihilate any one who did not follow him with implicit obedience.” O’Connell would have hailed with delight any accession of eloquence or personal power to Conciliation Hall; but a particular policy had been arranged between O’Connell and the priests—they intrusted their cause to him, and when men started up and questioned, or attempted to modify this policy, O’Connell regarded it as rebellion, not merely against his leadership, but his party, and the church itself; hence, it was necessary for him to put down the disturber; and he was backed by clergy and people in doing so, which would not have been the case had not the understanding between him and the Roman Catholic hierarchy of Ireland been complete. Dr. Michelsen again says:—“It is a mistake to suppose that O’Connell entertained an irreconcilable hatred to England; he had never ceased to regard her as his second fatherland, as the land of his glory, of his intellectual activity. His partiality for England was only surpassed by his excessive love for his native home, and many apparent contradictions in his life can only be reconciled by this double sympathy in his character.” *
* “England since the Accession of Queen Victoria,” by Edward H. Michellen, Ph.D.
It is obvious that the writer of this paragraph has neither studied O’Connell, his country, or the party which he led. One of the grand causes of O’Connell’s failure in many things was his rancorous hatred to England. Thomas Gaspey, Esq., in his “History of England,” views this matter correctly in writing of O’Connell’s death, and the feeling in England concerning him:—“In England his departure was regarded with indifference. The hostility and scorn he frequently expressed for the Saxons, and his disparaging remarks on English women, had precluded him from gaining any of the popularity he had enjoyed in Ireland.”
The hatred of O’Connell to England was threefold—that of race, of nation, and of creed. He regarded England as the chief abettor of heresy in the world, and therefore would have rejoiced over her downfall; this was the common feeling of his party. So far as his animosity was connected with race and nationality, it was not unprovoked. The English people cherished deep prejudices against Ireland and the whole Celtic race; and the English newspapers frequently discussed the universal claims of the Anglo-Saxon to dominancy, and every social and national virtue, thereby creating a feeling of resentment in all countries where these articles were reprinted. The chief invidiousness, however, was to the Celt, and among Celts to the Irishman. This circumstance made repealers of numbers of Irishmen who were neither Celtic in race nor Roman in creed.