Trollope indulges in a little Victorian eloquence to conclude his story, which otherwise could be a case history. What would Dickens have done with such a story? The poor woman would have been borne to Heaven in the arms of angels. And if this had been a chapter in a book by Dickens, we might all know this story from the Irish Potato Famine.
The book isn't really about the potato famine. It just took place at the time of the famine. The story is one of those stories of a question of birth, which are so common in the novels from the period. In this case, we find Sir Thomas Fitzgerald of Castle Richmond being blackmailed by Mr. Matthew Mollett, who tells him that he was Lady Fitzgerald's first husband, and that he was not dead, as he had been assumed to be, when she married Sir Thomas. This would mean that her marriage to Sir Thomas is null and void, and that Sir Thomas's children are illegitimate–-and that his son Herbert will not inherit the estate, which would then fall to a cousin, Owen Fitzgerald. All this leaves Sir Thomas in a state of nervous collapse, from which he does not recover.
We also have the story of a young woman, Lady Clara Desmond, who proceeds, in the fullness of time, from one engagement to another. As a young girl she pledged herself to Owen Fitzgerald, but her mother, the Countess of Desmond, reminded her that she must marry money, and she later accepted the proposal of Herbert Fitzgerald. And then, when the news of Lady Fitzgerald's first husband becomes known, young Lady Clara is seen by her mother to be left holding the bag with a second affianced lover, now become poor. Owen is presented as the mercurial Irishman whom women love: romantic and generous, fun-loving and extravagant—qualities we also see in Trollope's most well-known Irish figure, Phineas Finn. Herbert, on the other hand, is slow and methodical, serious and conscientious, reminiscent of Plantagenet Palliser. Owen makes the extravagant and rather naive offer to let Herbert have Castle Richmond and all its property if he will surrender the love of Clara. Herbert, of course, cannot understand this and refuses.
So how will all this be resolved? Very conveniently, as it turns out. A family secret is discovered. What about this and so many other stories of birth secrets, with the resolution of the plot in the revelation of some unknown bit of family history—as when Buttercup announces in the final act of HMS Pinafore that, as a nursemaid, she switched babies years ago? Was this just a convenient plot device, or was it a reflection of reality?
Trollope used variations of this theme in several of his novels. George Roden, in Marion Fay, is found to be the eldest son of an Italian duke. Is He Popenjoy? is all about whether an unprincipled English Marquis, living in Italy, was legitimately married to an Italian duchessa and whether their son was Lord Popenjoy.
Esther Summerson, in Charles Dickens's Bleak House, does not know who her real mother is until late in the story. Oscar Wilde's The Importance of Being Earnest revolves about two babies in large handbags who were unwittingly swapped at a railway station. When this is announced in the last act, Jack throws himself on Miss Prism with a cry of "Mother!"
One actual case involved the "Tichbourne claimant," who in 1875 returned from Australia and claimed to be the rightful heir to a family fortune; the courts ruled against him. Surely this story itself could provide material for a doctoral dissertation; lacking such research, however, one would suppose that such events occurred infrequently and stirred imaginations each time, prompting fictional and comic variations on the theme.
Among the insights into Irish life are the sketches of Protestant and Catholics, preachers and priests. We find Father Bernard being petted by his sister-in-law and niece at Mick O'Dwyer's public house, where the women offer him another cup of tea, a hot muffin, or "a morsel of buttered toast" if he will only say the word.
Protestants and Catholics are obliged to work together in public assistance efforts to aid famine victims, but when it is suggested to the Protestant parson that Father Barney may be right in a certain matter, he categorically denies it. "He's altogether wrong. I never knew one of them right in my life yet in anything. How can they be right?"
On the other hand, the Catholic bias appears when Father Columb is told that men will work anywhere to keep from starving. He only replies, "Some men will," implying that Protestants would work anywhere because of their devotion to the flesh, but that Roman Catholics are under the dominion of the Spirit and would perish first.