On the 13th of April, 1829, the Emancipation Act received the royal signature, the bill having passed the House by an overwhelming vote, and the Lords by one hundred and four majority.
Many persons fondly thought that this law had laid the fell spirit of Protestant bigotry for ever; but it was not so. The snake was only scotched, not killed. It required another blow to render it completely innoxious. O'Connell, who had been elected before the bill passed, claimed a right to a seat in the Commons, even though a Catholic, and in support of that claim presented himself early in the session. The scene that ensued is thus described by an eye-witness:
"It is impossible to convey a perfect idea of the silent, the almost breathless attention with which O'Connell was watched and perused, when, in compliance with the request of the speaker, he advanced to the table. So large a number of peers had never been previously seen in that House. Two members of the aristocracy accompanied O'Connell, and, as a matter of form, introduced him to the House. Their names were Ebrington and Dungannon. As he passed the bar of the House, every eye was fixed on him. The first oath tendered to O'Connell was that of the supremacy, which he was seen, by the silent and watching multitude, to wave away and refuse. They heard him say: 'I apply to take my seat under the new act. I am ready to take the oath directed to be taken by Roman Catholic members. I do not feel that I am bound to take these oaths.' As he uttered these last words, he passed his hand over the oaths which he objected to, and which were affixed to pasteboards. 'You will be good enough,' added O'Connell, 'to inform the speaker that I do not think I am bound to take these oaths.' The chief clerk gathered up the pieces of pasteboard, and hurried up with them to the speaker, where he was seen pointing out to that functionary the oaths which O'Connell refused to take. The speaker then rose and said that, unless the new member took the old oaths, he must withdraw. The speaker alluded to those blasphemous oaths whose injustice was so flagrant that they had been just repealed. O'Connell, it is said, requested that the oath of qualification, stating that he possessed six hundred a year, should be administered to him; but this was likewise refused. During all this time, the speaker's manner and expression of countenance towards O'Connell, on whom he fixed his regards, were extremely courteous, but the declaration that he must withdraw firm and authoritative. O'Connell looked round, as if expecting support; but this failing, he bowed, and stood facing the speaker in perfect silence. At this moment, Brougham was seen to rise; but before he could address the house, the speaker exclaimed 'Order!' and again intimated to O'Connell that he must withdraw. The latter bowed respectfully, and, without uttering a single syllable, withdrew. After his departure, Brougham, who was still on his legs, addressed the house in a subdued tone, and, after some discussion, the debate was postponed.
"May 18, 1829, was a memorable day in the history of O'Connell's eventful life. Peel, rising in the House of Commons on that day, moved that O'Connell should be heard at the bar—a motion which was carried. Accordingly, he advanced to the bar, attended by Pierce Mahony—the whole house regarding him with the most intense interest. He addressed the house in a long and elaborate speech, in which he clearly demonstrated his right. His courteous manner and temperate address conciliated, in some degree, the good opinion of the members. He exhibited that flexibility of mind, that power of accommodating himself to his auditory, which formed his most remarkable attribute. When he concluded, the question was taken up by the lawyers, who endeavored to explain the meaning of the new act to the very men who had passed it. As the aristocracy had previously determined that O'Connell should not sit, the members of the lower house, who always do their bidding, rejected O'Connell's claim.
"Retiring with Pierce Mahony by his side, O'Connell endeavored to recover the seat which he had occupied previously to his appearance at the table. But to his surprise, he found two gentlemen in possession of it. They were Frenchmen, but spoke English like natives. One of these men afterwards reigned in France as Louis Philippe. The other was his son, the Duke of Orleans.
"The following day, O'Connell appeared for the third time at the bar of the House. He was told by the speaker that unless he took the oath of supremacy, the House would not permit him to take his seat.
"'Are you willing to take the oath of supremacy?' asked the speaker.
"'Allow me to look at it,' replied O'Connell.
"The oath was handed to O'Connell, and he looked at it in silence for a few seconds; then raising his head, he said: 'In this oath I see one assertion as to a matter of fact, which I know to be untrue. I see a second assertion as to a matter of opinion, which I believe to be untrue. I therefore refuse to take this oath.' A writ was immediately issued for a new election."