DANIEL O'CONNELL.
Daniel O'Connell, at one period called "the member for all Ireland," wasborn, not at, but near Derrynane Abbey, in Kerry, on the 6th of August,1775, and died at Genoa on the 15th of May, 1847. He had nearlycompleted his seventy-second year. For nearly forty years of thatextended period he had been a public man--perhaps the most public man inIreland. For at least a quarter of a century his reputation was notmerely Irish--nor British--nor European--but unquestionablycosmopolitan.
Fallen as we are upon the evil days of Mediocrity, it may not be uselessto dwell upon the conduct and the character, the aims and the actions,of one who, think of him as we may, candour must admit to be one of thegreat men of the age,--one of the very few great men of Ireland's lateryears.
"Some men are born to greatness--some achieve greatness--and some havegreatness thrust upon them." Daniel O'Connell stands in a predicamentbetween the two latter postulates. He certainly was the artificer of hisown fame and power, but, as certainly, much of it arose out of the forceof circumstances. When he launched his bark upon the ocean of politics,he may have anticipated something--much of success and eminence, but henever could have dreamed of wielding such complete and magnificent poweras was long at his command. Strong determination, great ability, naturalfacility of expression, the art of using strong words without committinghimself, and a most elastic temperament, ("prepared for either fortune,"as Eugene Aram said of himself)--all these formed an extraordinarycombination, and yet all these, even in their unity, might have been oflittle worth, but for the admitted fact that circumstances happilyoccurred which allowed these qualities a fair scope for development.Many poets, I dare swear, have lived and died unknown--either notwriting at all, or writing but to destroy what they had written. Nobleorators have lived and died, "mute and inglorious," because theopportunity for display had never been given. In truth, we may say, withPhilip Van Artevelde,
"The world knows nothing of its greatest men."
It is the curse of Authorship that until the grave fully closes upon hisashes, the fame of the writer is scarcely or slightly acknowledged. Whenthe turf presses upon his remains, we yield tardy justice to his merits,and translate him, as a star, into the "heaven of heavens" of renown.But the Orator, on the other hand, has _his_ claims admitted from thecommencement--he may make his fame by one bold effort--he may winadmiration at one bound, and each successive trial, while it matures hispowers, increases his reputation. He lives in the midst of his fame--itsurrounds him, like a halo: he is the observed of all observers,--he hasconstant motive for exertion--he breathes the very atmosphere ofpopularity, and has perpetual excitement to keep up his exertions. Ofthis there scarcely ever was a more palpable example than O'Connell.Originally gifted with all the attributes of a popular if not a greatorator, he advanced, by repeated efforts, to the foremost rank, becausethe public voice cheered him--the public opinion fostered him. Had he,for three or four years, spoken to dull or cold audiences, the worldwould probably have lost him as an orator. He might, indeed, have been agreat forensic speaker, but of that eloquence which placed sevenmillions of Irish Catholics in a situation where, without being brandedas rebels, they might openly demand "justice for Ireland," the chanceis, the world have known nothing. What man, before this man, had eversucceeded in awakening at once the sympathy of the old and of the newworld? Few men so well out-argued the sophistry of tyranny. Far abovethe crowd must he be, who, at one and the same time, affrighted theRussian autocrat by his bold invectives, and was appealed to as thecommon enemy of misrule, by the unhappy victims of the"Citizen-King"--who not only asserted the rights of his fellow slaves inIreland, but hesitated not, at all times and in all places, to expresshis
"Utter detestation Of every tyranny in every nation!"
O'Connell was often denounced as a "Dictator." What made him one? Theexclusive laws which kept him humiliated in his native land. The wrongsof Ireland made him what he was, and Misrule carefully maintained thelaws which made those wrongs. Had Ireland been justly governed, therewould not have been occasion for such "agitation" as Mr. O'Connell keptup. If the "agitator" was indeed the monster which he was represented tobe, Misrule is the Frankenstein which made him so. The wrongs of Irelandand the tyranny of evil government goaded him into action, and gave himpower. Misrule sowed the wind, and reaped the whirlwind.
It has been strongly asserted, and as strongly denied, that a long lineof ancestry gave O'Connell an hereditary right to take part in thepublic affairs of his native land, as if he, and all of us, did notinherit that right as an heir-loom derived from the first principles ofnature. The tradition of his house was that the O'Connell family wereentitled to rank among the most ancient in Ireland, antiquarians havingavowed that his surname was derived from Conal Gabhra, a prince of theroyal line of Milesius--that they originally possessed immense estatesin the county of Limerick, and removed to the barony of Iveragh, in thewestern extremity of Kerry, where they enjoyed the almost regal officeof Toparchs;--that, in the time of Elizabeth, their then chief, RichardO'Connell, made submission of his lands to the British crown;--that therebellion of 1641 removed the sept O'Connell to the County Clare, byforfeiture (a certain Maurice O'Connell it was who forfeited hisproperty in the Civil Wars of 1641, and received the estates in Clare asa partial indemnity; his uncle, Daniel O'Connell of Aghgore, in Iveragh,took no share in the Civil War, and thus preserved his estate);--thatthe Clare branch of the family supported James II., and, on the triumphsof the Orange party, had to seek in foreign lands the distinctions fromwhich the Penal Laws excluded it in its own.
One of these, a certain Daniel O'Connell, who subsequently was createdCount of "the Holy Roman Empire," disqualified, by his religion, fromholding military or civil rank in his own country, entered the Frenchservice in 1757--when he was only fourteen years of age. He served inthe seven years' war--at the capture of Port Mahon, in 1779, and wasseverely wounded at the grand sortie on Gibraltar in 1782--remainedfaithful to Louis XVI., until fidelity was of no further use--emigratedto England--was there appointed, in 1793, Colonel of the 6th IrishBrigade--retained that command until the corps was disbanded--returnedto France, at the Restoration, in 1814--was there and then restored tohis rank of General and Colonel-Commandant of the regiment of Salm, andnamed Grand Cross of the Order of St. Louis--refused to take rank underLouis Philippe--and died in 1834, aged ninety-one, a military patriarch,full of years and honours, holding the rank of General in the French,and being oldest Colonel in the English service. Count O'Connell wasgrand-uncle to "the Liberator."
It may not be generally known that the military tactics of Europe at thepresent day have emanated from Count O'Connell. The French Governmentresolved, in 1787, that the art of war should be thoroughly revised, anda military board, consisting of four general officers and one colonel,was formed for that purpose. Count O'Connell, who then commanded theRoyal Suedois (or Swedish) regiment, was justly accounted one of themost scientific officers in the service, and was named as the juniormember of that board. The other members soon discovered how correct andoriginal were the views of their colleague, and unanimously confided tohim the _redaction_ of the whole military code of France. So well did heexecute this important commission, that his tactics were followed in theearly campaigns of revolutionized France, by Napoleon--and finallyadopted by Prussia, Austria, Russia and England.
To Morgan O'Connell, father of "the Liberator," descended none of theproperty originally held by the family. His elder brother, Maurice,succeeded to a large portion, (that which eventually was bequeathed toDaniel,) and it had the peculiarity of being free from all chiefry,imposts, or Crown charge--an unusual thing, and occurring only in theinstance of very remote tenure. This portion was held under what wascalled Shelburne leases--renewable for ever, and first granted _before_the enactment of the Penal laws, and therefore not "discoverable;" thatis, not liable to be claimed from a Catholic holder by any Protestantwho chose to claim them.
Daniel O'Connell's father beca
me a petty farmer and a small shop-keeperat Cahirciveen. At that time he was simply known as "MorganConnell,"--there being some to this day who wholly deny the right of thefamily to the prefix of "O." The Irish proverb says:
By Mac and O, You'll always know True Irishmen, they say; For if they lack The O or Mac, No Irishmen are they.
The same doubters have contended that the independence realized byMorgan O'Connell was gained, not by farming nor by shop-keeping, but byextensive smuggling. But it was gained in some manner, and with it waspurchased a small estate at Carhen, within a mile of Cahirciveen, wherehis years of industry had been passed, and not far from Derrynane. Itwas at Carhen that Daniel O'Connell was born, on the 6th August,1775--the very day (he used to say) on which were commenced hostilitiesbetween Great Britain and her American colonies.
Daniel O'Connell's grandfather was the third son of twenty-two children.He died in 1770, leaving as his successor his second son, Maurice (John,the eldest, having predeceased him). This gentleman was never married,and it was on his death, in 1825, that the "Agitator" succeeded him asowner of the Derrynane estate. Morgan O'Connell (father to the"Liberator") died in 1809, and left two other sons, who are alsohandsomely provided for--John, as owner of Grena, and James of Lakeview,both places near Killarney.
I trust that I have not travelled out of my way to give this sketch ofthe descent of the family connexions of O'Connell. It shows that, at anyrate, _he_ is not the _novus homo_--the mere upstart, without theadvantages of birth and fortune, which he was often represented to be.At the same time, no O'Connell need be ashamed of what honest industryaccomplished--that much of the landed property which O'Connell's fatherinherited, held by John O'Connell of Grena, was purchased from theprofits of his business as a farmer and general shop-keeper.
From the first, Maurice O'Connell, of Derrynane, attached himself to hisnephew Daniel, whom he educated. The earliest instructions in any branchof learning which the future "Liberator" received, were communicated tohim by a poor hedge-schoolmaster, of a class ever abounding in Kerry,where every man is said to speak Latin. David Mahony happened to call atCarhen when little Daniel was only four years old, took him in his lap,and taught him the alphabet in an hour and a half. Some years later, hewas regularly taught by Mr. Harrington--one of the first priests who setup a school after the repeal of the laws which made it penal for a RomanCatholic clergyman even to live in Ireland. At the age of fourteen hewent abroad with his brother Maurice to obtain a good education.
Seventy years ago, the policy, or rather the impolicy of Englishdomination actually prohibited the education of the Catholics withinGreat Britain and Ireland. They were, therefore, either compelled to putup with very limited education, or forced to go abroad forinstruction,--rather a curious mode of predisposing their minds infavour of the English laws. Mr. O'Connell was originally intended forthe priesthood, and was educated at the Catholic seminary of Louvain,next at St. Omer, and, finally, at the English college of Douay, inFrance. But, at that time, there were fully as many lay as clericalpupils at that college.
At St. Omer, Daniel O'Connell rose to the first place in all theclasses, and the President of the College wrote to his uncle, inIreland--"I have but one sentence to write about him, and that is, thatI never was so mistaken in all my life as I shall be, unless he bedestined to make a remarkable figure in society."
The two brothers commenced their homeward journey on the 21st ofDecember, 1793--the very day on which Louis XVI. was guillotined atParis. During their journey from Douay to Calais, they were obliged towear the revolutionary cockade, for safety. But, as good Catholics, theywere bound to abhor the atrocities perpetrated, at that time, by theJacobins, in the sacred name of liberty, and when they stood on the deckof the English packet-boat, indignantly tore the tri-colour from theirhats, and flung them, with all contempt, into the water. Some Frenchfishermen, who saw the act, rescued the cockades, and flung imprecationsagainst the "aristocrats" who had rejected them. At the same time, whenan enthusiastic Irish republican, who had "assisted" at the execution ofLouis, exhibited a handkerchief stained with his blood, the youngstudents turned away and shunned him, in disgust and abhorrence. Notthen, nor at any period of his career, was O'Connell an anti-monarchist.It is said that, during the trial of Thomas Hardy, at London, (October,1794,) for high treason, he was so much shocked at the unfair means usedby the Crown lawyers to convict the accused--means foiled by eloquentErskine and an honest jury--that he resolved to place himself as achampion of Right against Might, and identify himself with the cause ofthe people. While he was on the Continent, that relaxation of the Penallaws took place which allowed the Catholic to become a barrister. It isprobable that _this_ was the immediate cause of his becoming a lawyer. Ayoung man of his sanguine temperament was likely to prefer the bar, withits temporal advantages,--its scope for ambition,--its excitement,--itsfame, to the more secluded life of an ecclesiastic. Accordingly, I findthat he entered as a law-student at Lincoln's Inn, in January, 1794--eatthe requisite number of term-dinners there, for two years--pursued thesame qualifying course of "study" at King's Inn, Dublin, and was calledto the Irish bar, in Easter term, 1798, in the 23d year of his age.
The Rebellion was in full fling at the time, and (in order, no doubt, toshow his "loyalty" as a Catholic) he joined what was called "thelawyers' corps," associated to assist the Government in putting downrevolt.
The period of his admission was singularly favourable. Catholics hadjust been admitted to the Irish bar--to the minor honours of theprofession; although it was hoped, and not extravagantly, that, in time,all its privileges would be thrown open to them. It was impossible tosay what was Mr. O'Connell's ambition at the time; however high, hecould not have had a dream of the elevation which he subsequentlyreached. He must have felt, however, that he had a wide field for theexercise of his abilities. His ostensible ambition, for many years, wasto become a good lawyer. During what is called "the long vacation," andat other periods when he could spare time, he resided a good deal withhis uncle in Kerry, where he pursued the athletic sports in which,almost to the close of his career, he delighted to participate. On oneoccasion, while out upon a hunting expedition, he put up at a peasant'scabin, sat for some hours in his wet clothes, and contracted a typhusfever. In his delirium he often repeated the lines from Home's tragedyof Douglas:
"Unknown I die--no tongue shall speak of me. Some noble spirits, judging by themselves, May yet conjecture what I might have proved, And think life only wanting to my fame."
His son has preserved a letter, written in December, 1795, when he wasin his twenty-first year, in which he communicates his views to hisuncle Maurice, of Derrynane. A passage or two may be worth quoting, toshow with what earnestness he devoted himself to the career upon whichhe was then preparing to enter. He says, "I have now two objects topursue--the one, the attainment of knowledge; the other, the acquisitionof all those qualities which constitute the polite gentleman. I amconvinced that the former, besides the immediate pleasure which ityields, _is calculated to raise me to honour, rank, and fortune_ [howprophetic were the young man's aspirations!]; and I know that the latterserves as a general passport or first recommendation; and, as for themotives of ambition which you suggest, I assure you that no man canpossess more of it than I do. I have, indeed, a glowing, and--if I mayuse the expression--an enthusiastic ambition, _which converts every toilinto a pleasure, and every study into an amusement_."
He adds, in the same honourable spirit, "Though nature may have given mesubordinate talents, I never will be satisfied with a subordinatesituation in my profession. No man is able, I am aware, to supply thetotal deficiency of abilities, but every body is capable of improvingand enlarging a stock, however small, and, in its beginning,contemptible. It is this reflection that affords me most consolation. IfI do not rise at the bar, I will not have to meet the reproaches of myown conscience. * * * Indeed, as for my knowledge in theprofessional line, that cannot be discovered for some years to
come; butI have time in the interim to prepare myself to appear with greater_eclat_ on the grand theatre of the world."
As a barrister, he naturally took the Munster circuit, and here hisfamily connexion operated very much in his favour. In the counties ofClare, Limerick, Kerry and Cork, he had relatives in abundance, andbeing, I believe, the first Catholic who had gone that circuit, henaturally engrossed a considerable portion of the business which theCatholics had previously, _ex necessitate_, distributed among thebarristers of a contrary persuasion. He succeeded, moreover, inestablishing the reputation of being a shrewd, clever, hard-workinglawyer, and briefs flowed in so abundantly, that he may be cited as oneinstance, amid the ten thousand difficulties of the bar, of greatsuccess being immediately acquired. There was nothing precarious in thissuccess: he was evidently a shrewd, clever, long-headed lawyer, andwhile the Catholics gave him briefs, because of his family and religion,the Protestants, not less wise, were not backward in engaging hisassistance--not that they much loved the man, but that his assistancewas worth having, as that of a man with a clear head, a well-filledmind, strong natural eloquence, and, from the very first, a mastery overthe art of cross-examining witnesses.
O'Connell's friends scarcely anticipated, from what his youth had been,the success which met him on his first step into active manhood. He heldhis first brief at the Kerry Assizes, in Tralee. Between a countrygentleman named Brusker Segerson and the O'Connells there long had beena family feud. Brusker accused one of the O'Connell tenants at Iveragh,of sundry crimes and misdemeanors, which judge and jury had "well andtruly to try and determine." Young O'Connell had his maiden brief inthis case. Brusker, knowing the young lawyer's inexperience, anticipateda triumph over him, and invited a party of friends to witness the "fatalfacility" with which the accused would be worsted. But it happened notonly that the accused was the acquitted, but there was a generalopinion, from the facts on the trial, that Brusker Segerson's conducthad been oppressive, if not illegal. Brusker turned round to his friendsand soundly swore that "Morgan O'Connell's _fool_ was a great lawyer,and would be a great man." Henceforth he always employed O'Connell--butwith the distinct and truly Irish understanding that the hereditary andpersonal feud between them should in no wise be diminished!
One of O'Connell's earliest displays of acuteness was at Tralee, in theyear 1799, shortly after he had been called to the bar. In an intricatecase, where he was junior counsel (having got the brief more as a familycompliment than from any other cause), the question in dispute was asto the validity of a will, which had been made almost in _articulomortis_. The instrument was drawn up with proper form: the witnesseswere examined, and gave ample confirmation that the deed had beenlegally executed. One of them was an old servant, possessed of a strongpassion for loquacity. It fell to O'Connell to cross-examine him, andthe young barrister allowed him to speak on, in the hope that he mightsay too much. Nor was this hope disappointed. The witness had alreadysworn that he saw the deceased sign the will. "Yes," continued he, withall the garrulousness of old age, "I saw him sign it, and surely _therewas life in him at the time_." The expression, frequently repeated, ledO'Connell to conjecture that it had a peculiar meaning. Fixing his eyeupon the old man he said,--"You have taken a solemn oath before God andman to speak the truth and the _whole_ truth: the eye of God is uponyou; the eyes of your neighbours are fixed upon you also. Answer me, bythe virtue of that sacred and solemn oath which has passed your lips,_was the testator alive when he signed the will_?" The witness wasstruck with the solemn manner in which he was addressed, his colourchanged--his lips quivered--his limbs trembled, and he faltered out thereply--"_there was life in him_." The question was repeated in a yetmore impressive manner, and the result was that O'Connell halfcompelled, half cajoled him to admit that, after life was extinct, apen had been put into the testator's hand,--that one of the party guidedit to sign his name, while, as a salvo, for the consciences of allconcerned, a living fly was put into the dead man's mouth, to qualifythe witnesses to bear testimony that "there was life in him" when hesigned that will. This fact, thus extorted from the witness, preserved alarge property in a respectable and worthy family, and was one of thefirst occurrences in O'Connell's legal career worth mentioning. MissEdgeworth, in her "Patronage," has an incident not much different fromthis; perhaps suggested by it. The plaintiffs in this case were twosisters named Langton, both of whom still enjoy the propertymiraculously preserved to them by the ingenuity of O'Connell; they wereconnexions of my own (Sarah Langton, the youngest, was married to mycousin, Frank Drew, of Drewscourt), and I have often heard them relatethe manner in which he had contrived to elicit the truth.
It is no common skill which can protect innocence from shame, or rescueguilt from punishment. Nothing less than an intimate knowledge of thefeelings of the jury, and the habits and characteristics of thewitnesses, can enable an advocate to throw himself into the confidenceof a jury composed of the most incongruous elements, and to confuse,baffle, or detect the witnesses. There is no power so strong as that ofgood cross-examination; and I never knew any man possess that power ina more eminent degree than O'Connell. The difficulty is to avoid askingtoo many questions. Sometimes a single query will weaken evidence, whilea word more may make the witness confirm it. Some witnesses require tobe pressed, before they bring out the truth--others, if too muchpressed, will turn at bay, and fatally corroborate every thing to whichthey already have sworn. It is no common skill which, intuitively as itwere, enables the advocate to perceive when he may go to the end of histether,--when he _must_ restrain. The fault of a young barrister is that_he asks too many questions_. It is a curious fact, that, from the firstmoment he was called to the bar, O'Connell distinguished himself by hiscross-examinations. If he was eminent in a criminal trial, he was noless so in civil cases. Here he brought all his legal learning to bearupon the case, and here, too, he had the additional aid of thateloquence which usually drew a jury with him.
John O'Connell gives an anecdote which illustrates his father's successin the defence of his prisoners. It had fallen to his lot, at theAssizes in Cork, to be retained for a man on a trial for an aggravatedcase of highway robbery. By an able cross-examination, O'Connell wasenabled to procure the man's acquittal. The following year, at theAssizes for the same town, he found himself again retained for the sameindividual, then on trial for a burglary, committed with greatviolence, very little short of a deliberate attempt to murder. On thisoccasion, the result of Mr. O'Connell's efforts rose a disagreement ofthe jury; and, therefore, no verdict. The Government witnesses havingbeen entirely discredited during the cross-examination, the case waspursued no farther, and the prisoner was discharged. Again, thesucceeding year, he was found in the criminal dock; this time on acharge of piracy! He had run away with a collier brig, and having foundmeans for disposing of a portion of her cargo, and afterwards ofsupplying himself with some arms, he had actually commenced cruising onhis own account, levying contributions from such vessels as he chancedto fall in with. Having "caught a tartar," whilst engaged in thisprofitable occupation, he was brought into Cove, and thence sent up toCork to stand his trial for "piracy on the high seas." Again Mr.O'Connell saved him, by demurring to the jurisdiction of the Court--theoffence having been committed within the jurisdiction of the Admiralty,and, therefore, cognizable only before an Admiralty Court. When thefellow saw his successful counsel facing the dock, he stretched over tospeak to him, and, raising his eyes and hands most piously and ferventlyto heaven, he cried out--"Oh, Mr. O'Connell, may the Lord spare you--_tome_!"
Here let me give my opinion, that the disqualification of hisreligious tenets, which kept him in a stuff gown while his juniors instanding, and inferiors in talent, were strutting about with allprofessional honour, was _not_ much detriment to O'Connell'sadvancement. Here was a man, confessedly at the head of his profession,yet excluded from its honours by unjust and intolerant laws--it became,therefore, a practice to consider him a martyr for the sake of hisreligion, and he got many and many a brief be
cause such was the feeling.His disqualification as a Catholic gained him business as a Barrister.
The Union failed to make Ireland happy--because the chains of theCatholics were still allowed to gall them, instead, as Mr. Pittcontemplated, of being removed with the least possible delay. GeorgeIII. threw himself between Ireland and justice. Relief was expected fromMr. Fox, and might, perhaps, have been granted, but the death of thatstatesman, almost immediately succeeded by an Anti-Catholic Ministry,sounded the knell to the hopes of the people of Ireland. It was at thistime that Mr. O'Connell came forward as a politician; he had personalreasons for doing so, because, now being in the enjoyment of a veryexcellent practice at the bar, he found numerous vexations arising fromthe privileges enjoyed by men less talented, less qualified thanhimself, but who enjoyed the advantages which religious and political"ascendency" gave them.
The Catholics at last threw themselves into an attitude of defence.O'Connell's first decided step[16] was the taking part in the proceedingsof a meeting of Catholics, held in Dublin in May, 1809. Then, for thefirst time for over a hundred years, Catholics literally "spoke out."Their daring appeared to draw strength for their despair. What wascalled "the Catholic Committee" was formed, and this, strongly againstO'Connell's advice, violated the law by assuming a _representative_character. Lord Killeen (eldest son of the Earl of Fingal, a Catholicpeer), and some others of the leaders, were prosecuted by theGovernment. They were defended by O'Connell, and Ireland then witnessedthe almost unprecedented circumstance of Catholic agitators beingacquitted by a Protestant jury in Dublin.
[16] O'Connell's first public speech was against the Union. It was made on January 13, 1800, at a Catholic meeting in Dublin, in unequivocal condemnation of that measure. The resolutions that day adopted were drawn up by O'Connell, and assumed an antagonistic position.
The Catholic Committee, however, became alarmed, and broke up. Then wasformed the Catholic Board, at which it was a matter of dispute whetherEmancipation might not be purchased by allowing the Crown to pay theCatholic clergy, and giving the head of the Church of England a veto onthe appointment of Catholic bishops in Ireland. Feeble and vacillating,the greater portion of the Catholic nobility held aloof from thestruggle, in which O'Connell took the popular side. Later in the day,
The late Duke of Richmond (Viceroy of Ireland) put down the CatholicBoard by means of his Attorney-General Saurin. The members of thatBoard, as some small acknowledgment for the services of their colleague,voted Mr. O'Connell a piece of plate, of the value of 1000_l._ The Boardbeing put down, the Catholic cause would have fallen but for theintrepidity of O'Connell, who assumed the leadership at once, andpublished a letter, continued annually for a long time, in which hestated the wrongs of Ireland, with her claims for relief, and suggestedthe mode of action. This annual message had the motto, from ChildeHarold,
"Hereditary bondsmen, know ye not, Who would be free, themselves must strike the blow."
Mr. Saurin is said to have seriously contemplated prosecuting O'Connellfor sedition because of this motto from "Childe Harold."
The Catholic Board was suppressed, it is true, but there remained athousand modes of action by which the spirit of patriotism might be keptalive in Ireland. Aggregate and other public meetings were instantlyheld, and at one of these Mr. O'Connell, in 1815, designated theCorporation of Dublin as a "beggarly corporation." A member of that"beggarly" and bankrupt body took upon himself to play the bravo in itsdefence. This man was a Mr. D'Esterre, and is understood to have had apromise of patronage from the Corporation (in the shape of a goodberth), if he humbled the pride of O'Connell. It is more charitable thanreasonable to hope that the Corporation were not so ruffianly as to holdout this hope to D'Esterre, because he was notoriously the best shot inDublin; and yet, such "honourable" assassination is exactly what such abody would reward, if they did not suggest it.
D'Esterre paraded the streets of Dublin with a horse-whip in his hand,and vowed vengeance against O'Connell. He did not meet him; but heafterwards challenged him. O'Connell refused to apologize--met thechallenger, and mortally wounded him. D'Esterre, as I have said, was acrack shot, and O'Connell was not; but it sometimes happens that thepracticed duellist suffers the penalty which he has inflicted uponothers.
D'Esterre had been an officer of marines, and it has been stated, andalways believed, that he constituted himself the Champion of theCorporation, not only in the hope, but with a direct promise ofobtaining a lucrative appointment, provided that he "silenced"O'Connell. The odds were five to one in his favour--for he was cool anddetermined, and could snuff a candle with a pistol shot at twelve paces.His skill, his coolness, availed not. At the first shot he fell, and hisdeath speedily followed.
Soon after, Sir Robert Peel (the then Irish Secretary) fastened aquarrel upon Mr. O'Connell, who again placed himself in the hands of hisfriends. A hostile meeting was appointed--the authorities in Dublininterfered--the parties were bound over to keep the peace--they agreedto meet on the Continent, but the duel was ultimately prevented by thearrest of Mr. O'Connell, in London, on his way to Calais. He was held tobail before the Chief Justice of the King's Bench, not to fight Mr.Peel; and since that time declined any further meetings of the sort.[17]It would have been well if, when he determined to avoid duels, O'Connellhad also resolved to abstain from language offensive to men of honourand men of feeling. His chief fault, during his last thirty years, wasthe application of epithets towards his political opponents, whichappear to have been culled rather in the market of Billingsgate, than inthe flowery garden of Academe!
[17] It was the late Dr. England, Catholic Bishop of Charleston, S. C., who then resided near Cork, who pointed out to O'Connell the conjoint sin and folly of duelling, and induced him to promise that he would never again appeal to arms. It was reported, at the time, that O'Connell had lingered in London, when Peel expected him at Calais, awaiting news of his wife's health (he had left her ill in Dublin), and that another public character had declined a challenge on the plea of his daughter's illness. The late Chief Justice Burke thus commemorated the double event:
"Two heroes of Erin, abhorrent of slaughter, Improved on the Hebrew command; One honored his wife, and the other his daughter, That 'their days might be long on the land.'"
For several years after the duel with D'Esterre, O'Connell was almostalone in the struggle for Emancipation. His practice steadily increased,and his legal knowledge, ability and tact, united with wondrous art inthe examination of witnesses, and great influence with juries (by theunion of a species of rhetoric consisting of common sense, humour, andrough eloquence, cemented together by a good share of "Blarney"), soonmade him a very successful barrister. Whenever a Catholic victim was tobe defended or rescued, whether an Orange oppressor was to be assailedand punished, O'Connell was in the van. The Catholics readily took himas their champion, and he won their gratitude by his services, andgained their personal attachment by a good humour which nothing coulddaunt, and a plain, straightforward, affectionate manner of eloquencewhich went directly home to their hearts. To this hour it is a mootpoint whether the Irish had greater admiration for his talents,gratitude for his services, confidence in his fidelity, or attachmentfor his person.
He continued increasing in influence for many years. From 1815, until herelinquished most of his practice in 1831, the annual income from hisprofessional pursuits cannot have averaged less than from L6000 toL8000--an immense sum for a lawyer to make in Ireland. No man could makesuch an income, except one who was at once an excellent Nisi Priuspleader, as well as a good Crown lawyer. He united the highestqualifications of both. He could wield at will immense power over ajury, and argue with a success rarely equalled, so as to reach theunderstanding of a judge. Hence, he had the most extraordinaryversatility. You would see him at one o'clock joking a jury out of averdict in the Nisi Prius court, or familiarly laying down cases for theinformation of the judge; and, the next hour, you
might behold him inthe Crown court, defending an unhappy man accused of murder, andexercising a caution and prudence in his unparalleled cross-examinationof witnesses which would alike surprise and please. No man could morereadily get the truth from a witness, or make him say only just as muchas suits the particular point he had in view.
In 1821, when George the Fourth visited Ireland, Mr. O'Connell made "hisfirst appearance, by particular desire," in the part of a courtier. Hepresented a laurel crown to the monarch on his departure, and eulogizedhim to the seventh heaven as "a real friend of old Ireland," anxious tosee her
"Great, glorious, and free, First flower of the earth, and first gem of the sea."
He did more than this. He sacrificed his feelings, as a Catholic, inorder to conciliate the Ascendency party. Intent on conciliation, heeven dined with the Dublin Corporation, and drank their charter toast ofintolerance,[18] "The pious, glorious and immortal memory." Concessionwas vain. The leopard would not change his spots; and, throwing away thescabbard, O'Connell drew the sword, and threw himself, body and soul,into the stormy battle of Agitation.
[18] This celebrated toast, the drinking or refusal of which, for many years, was the great test of (political) Protestantism in Ireland, was drank on the knee, and ran thus: "The glorious, pious, and immortal memory of the great and good King William, Prince of Orange, who saved us from Pope and Popery, brass money and wooden shoes. He that don't drink this toast, may the north wind blow him to the south, and a west wind blow him to the east; may he have a dark night, a lee shore, a rank storm, and a leaky vessel to carry him over the ferry to hell; may the devil jump down his throat with a red-hot harrow, that every pin may tear out his inside; may he be rammed, jammed, and damned into the great gun of Athlone, and fired off into the kitchen of hell, where the Pope is roasted on a spit, and basted with the fat of Charles James Fox, while the Devil stands by pelting him with Cardinals!"
In 1823, O'Connell, finding how little was to be anticipated from GeorgeIV. (who, as king, forgot the promises he made when Prince of Wales),organized a great plan for uniting his Catholic countrymen into an arrayagainst the laws which excluded them from the enjoyment of their civiland rights. He had great difficulty in arousing the languid energies of theIrish people, so hopeless had they been for a long time. At last, theCatholic Association assumed a "local habitation and a name." Thesubscription to the somewhat aristocratical Catholic Board had been fivepounds a year--one fifth of that amount was the payment to theAssociation; and, at last, the Catholic Rent was instituted on the basisof admitting contributions of a shilling a-year. Every subscriber tothis small amount thereby became a member of the Association, and crowdseagerly joined it, on these terms, from all parts of Ireland. Here wereagitation and combination. Here was money, the very sinews of war. Herewas a fund, large in amount, annually augmenting, applicable to avariety of purposes connected with the assertion of the Catholic claimsand the defence of Catholics, who thought themselves individuallywronged or injured by their Orange masters. Here, with O'Connell attheir head, was a band of leaders, most of them in the practice of thelaw, who had station, influence, audacity, courage, integrity, and theart of moving the multitude by voice or pen. The Government speedilyfeared, and felt, it to be an _imperium in imperio_.
Armed with a vast numerical combination, strong in the possession oflarge funds, headed by able and fearless men, the Association assumedthe duty of standing between the people and the mal-administrationof the law. Every local act of tyranny, intolerance and oppression wasexposed, if it were not visited with exemplary punishment. Thecomplaints of the people were heard, through the influence of theleaders, within the very walls of the Imperial Parliament. A brilliantarena was opened for Catholic talent, for the Association held itsdiscussions like a regular legislative assembly, and its debates werespread abroad, all over the kingdom, on the wings of the press. Of thewhole system O'Connell was the motive power--the head--the heart. Hisinfluence was immense.
Such an array could not be beheld by any government with indifference.It was determined to put down the Association by act of Parliament. In1825, O'Connell formed one of a deputation to England, to makearrangements for an adjustment of the Catholic claims--committed theerror of consenting to take Emancipation clogged with "the wings" (thatis, to State payment for the Catholic clergy, and confiscation of the40s. elective franchise), but finally admitted his mistake, and hiserror of judgment was forgiven by his countrymen. The Association wassuppressed. O'Connell, whose policy was to baffle rather than tocontest, and whose boast ever was that he agitated "within the law,"allowed the Catholic Association to dissolve itself, but continued theagitation by "aggregate meetings" in nearly every county of Ireland, andby the establishment of a new Catholic Association, formed ostensiblyfor purposes of charity alone. The Government could do nothing againstthis.
In 1826, when a general election took place, O'Connell brought intounexpected operation the forces which he commanded. He started popularcandidates in several Irish counties, and defeated the former members,who had always voted against the Catholics. The lesson was a strikingone, but the Executive in Downing-street heeded it not, and declaredunmitigated and perpetual enmity against the Catholics. On the otherhand, the Association pledged itself to oppose every candidate connectedwith the government. In 1828, a vacancy occurred, by Mr. VeseyFitzgerald (who himself had always voted for Catholic Emancipation)having accepted a seat in the Duke of Wellington's Cabinet, and thenO'Connell ventured the bold experiment of contesting the representationof Clare. He was returned after a most severe contest--forcedWellington, by that election to concede Emancipation--claimed his seatunder that concession--was refused by Manners Sutton, the Speaker--wasre-elected for Clare[19]--since sat for Waterford, Kerry, Dublin,Kilkenny, and Cork--made the best speech upon the Reform Bill--supportedthe Melbourne ministry when the contest between them and Peel cameon--invariably maintained the most liberal principles, and supported themost liberal measures--diminished, if he did not conquer, the dislikewhich England and Scotland felt towards him as a Catholic and Irishagitator--and had a parliamentary influence greater than any man everbefore possessed, being able to count on the votes of _forty_ members,who formed what is called the joints of his "tail."
[19] Mr. Grattan says, at an expense of L20,000--an amount which seems incredible, as there was only a brief shadow of opposition.
Had O'Connell's labors as an agitator ceased when they achievedEmancipation, no reputation could have stood higher. But, from 1829, heattempted to make "Repeal" his party-cry. In April, 1834, he moved forthe Repeal of the Union. Thirty-eight members voted _with_, and fivehundred and twenty-three _against_ him. Only _one_ English membersupported him--Mr. James Kennedy, who sat for the small borough ofTiverton.
The influence of O'Connell continued great, with the Government, as wellas in Ireland, while the Whigs were in office. But the Melbourneministry broke up in the autumn of 1841, and "Othello's occupation" wasgone when they went over to the opposition benches. In 1843, it is true,he made renewed, important and remarkable attempts to excite Ireland--toagitate (within the law) against the government of which Sir Robert Peelwas the head, but he was prosecuted, and the Monster Trials, lastingtwenty-five days, and ending in his conviction and imprisonment, firsttaught his countrymen that he was not infallible nor invulnerable. Hisconviction was subsequently annulled by the House of Lords, on appeal,but the iron had entered into his soul, and when he resumed his seat inParliament he evidently was breaking. Then followed the revolt againsthis supremacy by the vigorous and more decided "Young Ireland" party,and, with failing health and defeated aims, he went to theContinent--his desire being to visit that imperial and Papal Rome ofwhich he had long been the energetic and obedient servant. He diedbefore he accomplished his pilgrimage; but his heart rests in theEternal City.
Here it can scarcely be out of place to glance at O'Connell's success asa Parliamentary orator.
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In the British Parliament, where oratorical success is usually verydifficult, Irishmen have generally shown themselves not merely good, buteven eloquent speakers. Edmund Burke may challenge mention alongside ofthe great Chatham--and will have a more permanent place of honour,because his speeches, admirable even as compositions, now belong to thestandard classics of the Anglo-Saxon race. Sir Philip Francis (thereputed author of "The Letters of Junius") was not inferior, in powerand effect, to the younger Pitt. Richard Brinsley Sheridan and GeorgeCanning nobly maintained the national credit, as transcendently eloquentmen. Lord Wellesley and Henry Grattan occupy a first position as greatorators. In later days, assuredly Daniel O'Connell and Richard LalorSheil have not been surpassed by any of their rivals. Whenever Irishparliamentary eloquence is spoken of, William Conyngham Plunket cannotbe overlooked. He was, perhaps, the very best speaker in the BritishParliament at any time. He had few of the ordinary characteristics ofIrish eloquence. Wit he possessed in a high degree, but was chary in itsuse. Pathos he rarely ventured upon--though there are some incidentaltouches at once tearful and tender. He relied on clear arrangement offacts, logical closeness of reasoning, strong earnestness, remarkablesagacity, and the exercise of tact and common sense which a spirit atonce strong and ardent had disciplined and exercised. His manner, also,grave and almost austere, added weight to his words of power. Hesucceeded Grattan in the leadership of the Catholic party in Parliament,and his speech (in 1821) converted nine votes from hostility to justice.It was on this occasion, alluding to the great departed who had joinedin the discussions relative to Ireland's claims for civil and religiousliberty, that he said--"Walking before the sacred images of theillustrious dead, as in a public and solemn procession, shall we notdismiss all party feelings, all angry passions, all unworthy prejudices?I will not talk of past disputes; I will not mingle in this act ofnational justice anything that can awaken personal animosity."
It was not, however, in the English legislature, but during the lasttwenty years of the Irish Parliament, that Irish eloquence was in itszenith. On one hand were Fitzgibbon and Scott (afterwards Lords Clareand Clonmel), Connolly, Cavendish, and Arthur Wolfe. On the other sidewas such an array of talent, patriotism, and eloquence as, in the sameperiod of time, has never been surpassed--never equalled. There wereHussey Burgh and James Fitzgerald, Flood and Grattan, Curran and BarryYelverton, Plunket and Saurin, Parnell and Denis Daly, Brownlow andSaxton Perry, Foster and Ponsonby, Goold and Peter Burrowes,silvery-tongued Bushe and honest Robert Holmes. Most of these werelawyers, and made an exception to the general rule that the eloquence ofthe Bar and of the Senate are so different in character as to seemalmost incompatible in practice. In Ireland, during her last days ofnationality, the great cause for which they were contending, appeared tohave animated the members of the bar with a spirit which disdained allnarrow limits of conventionality, and elevated them above the ordinaryroutine of common life. We read, in Holy Writ, how one of the seraphimtouched Isaiah's lips with fire, and, with little effort of theimagination, we may well believe that Patriotism, in like manner,touched the lips of Irishmen, during that hard struggle for the veryexistence of their nation, at once hallowing and purifying the wordswhich fell from them. But such eloquence was only a flash amid darkness,too brilliant to stay, and force and fraud were evil spirits superior,at that time, to Truth, Virtue, and Eloquence. The day may come whenIreland shall once again be a nation,--may the Past then and forever bea lesson and a warning.
It is singular that, in the Irish Parliament, nearly all the greatspeakers have been lawyers. With few exceptions, men of law have notsucceeded in the English Parliament. Lords Mansfield, Lyndhurst andBrougham, with Romilly and Follett, are the chief exceptions. Camden,Thurlow, Eldon, Gifford, Cottenham, Truro, St. Leonards, Erskine,Scarlett, Stowell, Tenterden, Best, and a great many more did notmaintain, in Parliament, the reputation they had won at the bar. ThreeIrishmen, however, albeit members of the legal profession, have takenthe lead in the British Senate, even in our own time. These werePlunket, O'Connell, and Sheil.
Of Plunket and Sheil there may be another occasion and opportunity ofspeaking. It is of O'Connell that I would record a few impressions now.It must be remembered that when he entered Parliament, in 1829, he hadentered into his fifty-fifth year. Plunket was at least ten yearsyounger when he too entered the British House of Commons. Sheil waslittle more than thirty-six when he took his seat. It was feared by hisfriends and hoped by his enemies that, like Erskine and other greatadvocates, O'Connell would fail in Parliament. True it was that Grattanwas fifty-nine before he first spoke in the English House ofCommons--but Grattan was one in ten thousand. Besides, he was all hislife a parliamentary speaker, which is very different from being alawyer in full practice also--the essentials for success at the bar andin the Senate being far apart. Grattan himself, speaking of his greatrival, Flood, who had greatly distinguished himself in the Irish, and asgreatly failed, in the English Parliament, said "he forgot that he was atree of the forest, too old and too great to be transplanted at fifty."
O'Connell's opponents confidently anticipated his failure. He is toomuch of a mob-orator, was the cry of one set. He will never please sorefined an assembly as the British House of Commons; he is too much of alawyer, said another section of ill-wishers, and we know how perpetuallylawyers fail in the House. His accent is dead against him, lisped a fewothers, and will be laughed at as vulgar. One of his most violentantagonists was Lord Eldon, before whom he had appeared, in an appealcase before the Lords, when he visited London in 1825 (on the memorableoccasion of "the Wings"); but this Chancellor, inimical as he was,turned round to Lord Wynford (then Sir W. D. Best), when the speech wasended, and said, "What a knowledge of law!--how condensed, yet how clearhis argument!--how extremely gentlemanly, and even courtierly is hismanner. Let him only be in the House once, and he will carry every thingbefore him." Many even of O'Connell's own friends doubted whether hecould accommodate himself to the manners, fashion, habits, andrestrictions of that very artificial assemblage, presumed to contain"the collective wisdom of the nation," but the slightest doubt on thesubject does not appear to have cast its shadow into his own mind. Tohim, as to Lady Macbeth, there was no such word as--fail! Like Nelson,he did not know what fear was.
His putting up for Clare Election, in 1828, was one of the boldestmeasures ever ventured on--short of raising the banner of revolt againstthe government. It compelled Wellington and Peel to concede CatholicEmancipation--a concession ungracious and ungrateful, since it wasclogged with a clause, the result of personal spite, prohibitingO'Connell, because he had been elected in 1828, from taking the oathscontained in the Relief Bill of 1829. That prohibition sent him back toClare for re-election, and he entered Parliament with his mind notunnaturally angry at the injustice for which _he_ had been singled outas a victim.
He took his seat, and, almost immediately, it was perceived that he wasnot to be trifled with. Nature had been bountiful to him. Instature tall, and so strongly built that it was only by seeing, when aman of ordinary height was by his side, how much he over-topped him.Physical vigour and mental strength were well combined in him. Then, hisvoice--a miraculous organ, full of power, but not deficient, either, inmellow sweetness. His glance told little--but his lips were singularlyexpressive, as much so as the eyes are to ordinary mortals. Add to this,a full consciousness of power--a conviction that he had been the mainagent for opening Parliament to his hitherto prohibitedco-religionists--that Ireland looked to him, and not without cause, fora great deal more--that he virtually represented, not the men of Clareonly, but was "Member for all Ireland,"--that he was a tactician,trained by thirty years of public life,--that he had also the practicedskill in handling all the available points of an argument which hisprofessional career had given him,--and that he then looked uponEmancipation only as an instalment. Put all these together, and it willbe seen, at once, that the man in whom they were embodied could scarcelyfail to make himself felt, dreaded, and much observed.
In the first twelvemonth--that is, from his re-election in 1829, untilthe meeting of the new Parliament in November 1830--O'Connelldisappointed a great many by playing what may be called a waiting game.It was expected that he would be perpetually speaking, upon alloccasions, and, in that case, attempts would have been made to laugh, orcough, or clamor him down. He voted regularly, and always on the rightside. In 1831, when the Grey ministry were in power, O'Connell, nowstrengthened by a strong and compact body of Irish members pledged towork with and under him (their return was the result of the GeneralElection), took the station in the Legislature which he maintained fornearly fifteen years. During the prolonged struggle for ParliamentaryReform, one of the most impressive speeches in advocacy of the measurewas O'Connell's. On all great occasions his voice was heard and his votegiven. It cannot be asserted that he invariably spoke and voted as now,when we read the events of those days as history, it may dispassionatelybe thought he should have done; but he was undoubtedly an indefatigable,earnest, eloquent member of Parliament, through whose pertinacity andtact many concessions were made to Ireland which were calculated toserve her. The geniality of his nature was as unchecked in the Senate asit had been at the Bar, or in the Catholic Association. He was eminentlya good-tempered man, and this availed him much in the House of Commons,where, if it so please him, a man can readily make himself and othersuncomfortable by the exhibition of even a small portion of ill-temper.Sometimes he laughed at his opponents, but so good-naturedly that theyalso enjoyed the jest. Such was his cut at John Walter, proprietor ofthe _Times_, who had remained on the ministerial benches after his Toryfriends had quitted them. He removed, speedily enough, when O'Connellpointed to him as--
"The last rose of summer, left blooming alone."
So, when Lord Stanley (now Earl of Derby) separating from the Whigs,started a party of his own, which was lamentably small, O'Connell quotedagainst him a couplet from a familiar poet--
"Thus down thy side, romantic Ashbourne, glides The Derby dilly, carrying six insides."
And so, pre-eminent over all was his parody on Dryden's celebratedcomparison. Three Colonels (Perceval, Verner, and Sibthorpe) representedSligo, Armagh, and Lincoln. The two first were smooth-faced andwhiskerless as a maiden. Sibthorpe is "bearded like a bard." O'Connell,alluding to them in the House, thus hit them off, amid a general roar,in which the victimized trio could not refrain from joining--
"Three Colonels in three distant counties born, Sligo, Armagh, and Lincoln did adorn. The first in matchless impudence surpassed, The next in bigotry--in both the last. The force of nature could no further go, To beard the third she shaved the other two."
Like other politicians, O'Connell did not escape without occasionalpersonal passages at arms. In one of these, with Mr. Doherty, then IrishSolicitor-General, in May, 1830, O'Connell may be said to have come offsecond-best. He had attacked Doherty for his conduct as Crown lawyer inwhat was called the Doneraile conspiracy. The whole of the Tory partysided with Doherty, who made a forcible defence, attacking his assailantin turn, and the Whigs did not very warmly support O'Connell, who hadthen only been a few months in Parliament. This _rencontre_, which tookplace while "The Duke" was Premier, raised Doherty to the ChiefJusticeship of the Common Pleas in Ireland--and led to Peel's offeringhim a seat in the Cabinet in 1834, and a Peerage in 1840. O'Connell usedto say, and with truth, that _he_ had placed Doherty on the Bench.
On another occasion O'Connell was far more successful. This was thecelebrated Breach of Privilege case.
Victoria ascended the throne in June, 1837. Shortly after there was aGeneral Election, and a great many of the members returned werepetitioned against. The Tories had raised a large fund to defray thecost of these proceedings, and it was called "The SpottiswoodeSubscription," as Spottiswoode, the Queen's printer (a patentlife-office of much emolument), acted as its treasurer. Angry debatesarose in the House of Commons on this subject, and personalities wereso much and so tumultuously bandied to and fro, that Mr. Abercrombie,the Speaker, threatened to resign if they were repeated,--as if,grasping Scotchman as he was, he _could_ ever have brought himself toresign the L6,000 a-year attached to the office!
The controverted elections were duly referred to the usual ElectionCommittees, ballotted for out of the members then in the House. Thesecommittees were duly sworn, as juries are, to do justice between man andman. But it was unhappily notorious that when the majority were Whigs,they almost invariably decided against Tory members, and _vice versa_.As ill luck would have it, the majority of the decisions went to unseatLiberal members. As parties were nearly balanced in Parliament, at thattime--indeed the Whigs remained in office merely because there was a newand inexperienced sovereign who would have been puzzled how to act on achange of ministry--the Liberals complained of the decisions of theElection Committees.
On February 23, 1838, Lord Maidstone, who had been elected forNorthamptonshire, and was the eldest son of the intolerant Earl ofWinchelsea, who fought a duel on the Catholic Relief Bill, withWellington, in 1829, drew the attention of the House of Commons to aBreach of Privilege. He complained that, two days before, at a publicdinner given at the Crown and Anchor Tavern, Mr. O'Connell had declaredthat in the Election Committees "Corruption of the worst descriptionexisted, and above all there was the perjury of the Tory politicians."Also, that he "was ready to be a martyr to justice and truth; but not tofalse swearing, and therefore, he repeated, that there was foul perjuryin the Tory Committees of the House of Commons."
What followed I saw, and can never forget. O'Connell, who had beenreading (or appearing to read) a newspaper while Lord Maidstone wasaccusing him, keenly arose, sternly looked around the House, folded hisarms, and, in his deepest tones and most impressive manner, said, "Sir,I did say every word of that--every word of that; and I do repeat that Ibelieve it to be perfectly true. Is there a man who will put his hand onhis heart and say that it is not true? Such a man would be laughed toscorn."
Maidstone then gave notice of a motion condemnatory of O'Connell, andthe discussion was adjourned until the following Monday. Maidstone movedthat O'Connell's speech was an imputation on the whole House, and thathe be censured for it as a breach of privilege. O'Connell replied in aspeech of great power, in the midst of which he was self-designated "Thepensioned servant of Ireland," and plainly declared that whenever anElection Committee was appointed, it was known that the decision wouldbe exactly according to the political majority of its members; andrepeating that he had spoken only the truth, and would stand by hiswords. The Agitator then retired.
A great many members spoke,--the Whigs making a lukewarm defence forO'Connell, instead of admitting and lamenting the truth of his remarks.The Tories clamoured for a heavy censure. In a House of 517 members, outof 658, a majority of _nine_ were for the censure. Next DanielCallaghan, member for Cork city, Edmund Burke Roche, member for Corkcounty, W. D. Gillon for Falkirk, and J. P. Somers for Sligo, severallyand seriously declared that, each and all, they adopted Mr. O'Connell'swords and sentiments! It was then carried by 298 to 85 (Lord JohnRussell voting in the majority) that the words were "a false andscandalous imputation on the House."
Next, on the motion that O'Connell be reprimanded in his place, anexciting debate ensued. Mr. Callaghan repeated his endorsement ofO'Connell's imputation, and his words were taken down by the Clerk ofthe House, on the motion of Mr. Hume, who called on the Speaker tonotice his contumacy. But the Speaker was mute. Next day, Mr. Roche alsorepeated his full adherence to O'Connell's charge. The vote of censurewas carried by a majority of twenty-nine.
O'Connell duly attended in his place, was gravely reprimanded by theSpeaker (his own particular friend!), and said, when the farce wasover, "Galileo remarked 'the world does move, after all.' And so,despite the censure of this House, I repeat all I said before. Thesystem I condemn reminds one of the Judge in Rabelais who decided casesby throwing three dice for the plaintiff and two for the defendant. Ihad rather take the dice-box and say 'seve
n's the main,' than take mychance on an Election Committee of this House. I express no regret forwhat I have said. I have retracted nothing. I will retract nothing. Ihave told the truth."
So saying, having bearded the House by strongly repeating hisaccusation, he sat down. It was considered that he had gained a victory,and the conclusion of all was a total change and reform in the system ofParliamentary election committees.
But it was in Ireland--whether in the Catholic Association, at anAggregate Meeting, at a public dinner, or in a court of law--thatO'Connell was to be seen "in all his glory." In Ireland his influencewas extraordinary--not only for its vast extent, but for itscontinuance. No other public man, no matter what the country or the age,has maintained his popularity, as O'Connell did, for nearly forty years.I think that this may be partly attributed to the belief, long andwidely entertained by his followers, almost unbroken to the last,encouraged by himself, and generally borne out by circumstances, that hewas above the law, that the law could not reach _him_, that he "coulddrive a coach and six through any Act of Parliament."
In February, 1831, he was indicted and tried (with Tom Steele andBarrett, of _The Pilot_ newspaper) for holding political meetings whichthe Viceroy's proclamation had forbidden. They pleaded guilty, but asthe law under which they were tried was allowed to expire before theywere brought up for judgment, his prophecy, that the law could not reachhim, was fulfilled. In 1843 he was less fortunate. Three months inprison!--_that_ destroyed the _prestige_.
This man was eminently endowed by nature with the bodily and mentalqualifications for a Tribune of the People. In stature he was lofty, infigure large. His bold, good-natured face was an advantage--as were hismanly appearance and bearing. His voice was deep, musical, sonorous andmanageable. Its transitions from the higher to the lower notes waswondrously effective. No man had a clearer or more distinctpronunciation--at times, it even went to the extent of almostsyllabizing long words. How lingeringly, as if he loved to utter thewords, would he speak of "Cawtholic E-man-cee-pa-tion!" He ratheraffected a full Irish accent, on which was slightly grafted something ofthe Foigardism which, in his youth, had attached itself to him when hestudied in France. No one who noticed his capacious chest could wonderthat O'Connell was able to speak longer than most men without pausingto take breath. When making a speech, his mouth was very expressive; andthis has been noticed as the characteristic of that feature, in Irishfaces. In his eyes (of a cold, clear blue) there was little speculation,but the true Irish expression of feeling, passion and intellect playedabout his lips. Looking at him, as he spoke, a close observer mightalmost note the sentiment about to come from those lips, before thewords had utterance--just as we see the lightning-flash before we hearthe thunder-peal.
His eloquence was eminently characteristic. Irishmen, in general, have"the gift of the gab,"--that is, the power of expressing theirsentiments in public with ease to themselves and to their hearers. Itgives them little trouble to make a speech; and this faculty and thisfacility arise, very probably, from the political circumstances of theircountry as much as from anything else. In England there is no necessitywhy a man should have decided political opinions. In Ireland no man darebe neutral. Persons may disagree, and do; but they unite in despisingand condemning the unhappy wight who does not belong to any party. AnIrishman, in Ireland, _must_ be a partisan. Being so, there is noearthly reason why, attending any public meeting, he should not beinduced to take part in the proceedings, and make a speech. Oratory is avery catching thing,--listening begets the desire to be listened to, inturn; and, once that a man has heard his own voice in public, depend onit, he will be anxious to hear it again.
Self-possession, which is "half the battle" in public life, is anessential in public speaking. However, it is not _the_ essential. Theremust be a copious flow of words--a happy and rapid selection oflanguage--an earnestness of manner--a knowledge of human character--and,above all, a considerable degree of information, with a certain portionof the "imagination all compact," which breathes fervour and poetry intothe spoken speech. Great is the orator's power. He can touch the humanheart--he can move the secret springs of action--he can sway the popularwill as he pleases--he can comfort the afflicted, infuse hope into theoppressed, alarm the oppressor, and make ill-directed Power and Mighttremble on their lofty thrones.
Ireland has been particularly profuse in her contribution of eminentorators. Burke, Canning, Plunket, Grattan, Sheil, Wellesley and Curran,stand pre-eminent on the roll; but I doubt whether O'Connell, when thelength of his reign is considered, as well as the great extent of hisinfluence, derived chiefly from his power as a speaker, was not greaterthan any of these great orators. He had less wit than Canning--lessimagination than Curran--less philosophy than Burke--less rhetoric thanSheil--less pure eloquence than Plunket--less classical expressionthan Wellesley--less pathos than Grattan; but he had more power than anyof them. There was wonderful force in his language. And when addressingan Irish audience, there was such an alternation of style--now rising tothe loftiest, and now subsiding to the most familiar--that he carriedall hearts with him, and those who listened seemed as if under the spellof an enchanter, so completely did he move them as he pleased. Judgingby their _effect_, O'Connell's speeches must be considered as among thebest, if not the very best, of the time and country.
O'Connell's versatility as a speaker was wonderful. He was "all thingsto all men." In a Court of Law he would often joke a jury into his viewof the case, and when this did not succeed, would convince them bysubtle argument, bold declamation, and a natural eloquence. At apolitical meeting, where he had to address a multitude, they wouldalternately smile or get enraged, as he jested with or excited theirfeelings. In Parliament, which he did not enter until he was fifty-fouryears old, he generally was more calm, more careful, more sudued, moresolicitous in his choice of words, and more vigilant in restraining themanner of delivering them.
The great secret of his power, as a speaker, was his earnestness. Heever had a great object in view, and he always applied himself, with astrong and earnest mind, to achieve that object. Whenever he pleased,he could rise to the greatest height of eloquence; but he preferred,when speaking to the people, to use language which each of them couldunderstand. He varied his speeches, too, with badinage and jokes, which,though merely humourous, made his audience smile, and keep them in goodtemper with each other, with themselves, and with him. The Irish, whothronged to listen to him, went to be amused as well as to be harangued.Nor did he disappoint them. I may illustrate what I mean by giving anexample of one of his familiar illustrations.
In 1827, during the time of what was called "The New Reformation," inIreland, O'Connell made a speech at the South Chapel, in Cork. Itcontained the following passage, after a very elaborate denial of theassumed conversions which the "New Reformation" gentry had boastedof:--"They remind me, gentlemen, of a Frenchman who waited on LordKenmare, and offered to drain the lakes of Killarney, which wouldrestore a great quantity of arable land. Lord Kenmare happened to thinkthat he had land enough, and civilly declined having his propertydeprived of the beautiful lakes, its proudest ornament. The Frenchman,however, being one of those who
'Do good by stealth, and blush to find it fame,'
persisted in his fancy, and accordingly rose at break of day to drainthe lake. And, boys, how do you think he was doing it? Why, he wasbaling it out with his hat! (Great laughter.) Now, there are sevenmillions of Catholics in Ireland--the New Reformation folk do not boastof more than six or seven conversions, or perversions, in the week--sothat, allowing (which is impossible, where there are bright eyes andwarm hearts such as flash and throb around me, in this large assembly)that the Catholics of Ireland will not increase in the meantime, theremust, at this rate, be a million of weeks elapse before all of them aredrained out by conversion. (Cheers.) Boys, these Reformation gentryremind me mightily of the Frenchman baling out the Lake of Killarneywith his hat!"
It was with pleasant, homely jokes like this--yet each having a tende
ncyto work out the argument--that O'Connell was wont to amuse the Irish. Inpoint of wit, I doubt whether O'Connell's little Frenchman be not asoriginal a character as Sydney Smith's far-famed Mrs. Partington.
O'Connell's friends lamented, and with ample cause, at his aptness toabuse the license of public speech. He was very fond of bestowingnicknames on his opponents, and of applying offensive epithets tothem.[20] As early as July, 1808, at a meeting of the famous CatholicBoard, he had commenced that sort of speaking--which lowers him whoadopts it rather than those against whom it is levelled. He then said"the present administration are the personal enemies of the Catholiccause; yet if the Catholics continue loyal, firm, and undivided, theyhave little to fear from the barren petulence of the ex-advocate,Percival, or the frothy declamations of the poetaster, Canning--theymight with equal contempt despise the upstart pride of the Jenkinsons,and with more than contempt the pompous inanity of that LordCastlereagh, who might well be permitted to hate the country that gavehim birth, to her own annihilation." In the same vulgar spirit he spokeof Cobbett as "a comical miscreant," and declared that the Duke ofWellington was "a stunted corporal," and maintained that Disraeli, whoseJewish descent is well known, must be a lineal descendant of theimpenitent thief who was crucified, when the great sacrifice ofSalvation was consummated at Calvary.
[20] O'Connell had high judicial authority for the use of bad language. Sir Archibald Macdonald (who was Chief Baron of the English Court of Exchequer, from 1793 to 1813) once told Mr. Fletcher Norton, afterwards Speaker of the House of Commons, that he was a "lazy, indolent, evasive, shuffling, plausible, artful, mean, confident, cowardly, poor, pitiful, sneaking, and abject creature."
Once only, as far as my memory serves, O'Connell gave a nickname, withpoint and wit in the application. He was denouncing the present Earl ofDerby, who was then a member of the House of Commons, and filled theoffice of Chief Secretary of Ireland. In some way Stanley had takenofficial notice of the "sayings and doings" of O'Connell, whereupon theAgitator declared that, from that time, he must be called "Shave-beggarStanley." Amid roars of laughter (for this was at a public meeting inDublin), O'Connell proceeded to justify the _nom de guerre_. It was thecustom, he said, that barbers' apprentices should learn their businessby shaving beggars, who, as the job was done for nothing, could scarcelycomplain if a blunt razor gave them pain, or an unskilful hand cut theskin, as well as the beard. So, he added, with British statesmen. Theywere first sent over to Ireland, to get their hand in, and when that wasaccomplished they were considered to have sufficient dexterity to beplaced in office in England. He argued, by analogy, that the political,like the actual "shave-beggar," gave a good deal of pain, and inflictedmany cuts, which the Irish, like the pauper shavelings, were compelledto submit to, without complaint. From that day until the day he leftIreland, Lord Stanley was always spoken of, by the Irish Liberals, withthe prefix of "shave-beggar" to his surname!
Two things, through life, O'Connell strenuously affirmed and inculcated.First, that the man who committed outrage supplied the enemy with aweapon to be used against the country. Second, that Ireland would neverbe prosperous until the Union was repealed.
He did not join the United Irishmen in 1798,--not because he, like them,had not an aspiration for the political independence of his country,but because he disapproved of _their_ mode of striving for it, by force.From first to last he was opposed to violence. The "Young Ireland"schism, at Conciliation Hall, which so much annoyed him, during the lasteighteen months of his career, was caused by his resistance to thedoctrine of "physical force."
As to the Union--it is only just to say, that O'Connell's first publiceffort was against that measure. His maiden speech, delivered on January13th, 1800, at a Catholic meeting, in Dublin, unequivocally condemnedthe Union. The Resolutions adopted by the meeting, drawn up byO'Connell, declared the proposed incorporate Union to be, "in fact, anextinction of the liberty of Ireland, which would be reduced to theabject condition of a province, surrendered to the mercy of the Ministerand Legislature of another country, to be bound by their absolute will,and taxed at their pleasure by laws, in the making of which Irelandwould have no efficient participation whatever!" During the struggle forEmancipation, as well as from that era until his death, O'Connell alwaysdeclared that he would not be satisfied with less than "the Repeal." Henever cushioned, never concealed that such was his object. I mentionthis, because it has been said that, "having got Emancipation, he oughtnot to have gone for Repeal." As a matter of _policy_, perhaps, Irelandwould now be better off if the Repeal agitation had not taken place;but it is indisputable that from 1800 to 1846, O'Connell declared thathe would not be satisfied with less than "the Repeal."
Here it may be well to notice the _questio vexata_ of the famous"O'Connell Rent." The amount has not been exactly ascertained, but it isbelieved to have varied from 10,000_l._ to 20,000._l_ a year. Itcommenced after Emancipation was granted, and was continued until 1846,when, from the pressing wants of the Irish, it was announced that Mr.O'Connell wished it to be discontinued until they could better afford topay it. Here it may be best to give Mr. O'Connell's own apology, in aletter to Lord Shrewsbury, in 1842. He said, "I will not consent that myclaim to 'the Rent' should be misunderstood. That claim may be rejected,but it is understood in Ireland. My claim is this:--For more than twentyyears before Emancipation, the burthen of the cause was thrown upon me.I had to arrange the meetings--to prepare the resolutions--to furnishreplies to the correspondence--to examine the case of each personcomplaining of practical grievances--to rouse the torpid--to animate thelukewarm--to control the violent and inflammatory--to avoid the shoalsand breakers of the law--to guard against multiplied treachery--and atall times to oppose, at every peril, the powerful and multitudinousenemies of the cause. To descend to particulars: At a period when myminutes counted by the guinea--when my emoluments were limited onlyby the extent of my physical and waking powers--when my meals wereshortened to the narrowest space, and my sleep restricted to theearliest hours before dawn; at that period, and for more than twentyyears, there was no day that I did not devote from one to two hours(often more) to the working out of the Catholic cause; and _that_without receiving, or allowing the offer of any remuneration, even forthe personal expenditure incurred in the agitation of the cause itself.For years I bore the entire expenses of a Catholic agitation, withoutreceiving the contributions of others to a greater amount thanseventy-four pounds in the whole. Who shall repay me for the years of mybuoyant youth and cheerful manhood? Who shall repay me for the lostopportunities of acquiring professional celebrity; or for the wealthwhich such distinction would ensure?"
There is considerable force in this. But O'Connell's character, out ofIreland, would have stood higher, had he not received "the Rent." It wasoften alleged, by his adherents, as a set-off, that Grattan had alsobeen remunerated by his countrymen. But the cases were not parallel. In1782, Grattan, almost single-handed, had achieved the Independence ofIreland, by obtaining the recognition of the principle that "the Crownof England is an Imperial Crown, but that Ireland is a distinct Kingdom,with a Parliament of her own, the sole Legislature thereof." He hadaccomplished a bloodless Revolution. He had thrown himself intopolitical life, abandoning the profession on which rested nearly hiswhole worldly dependence. A grant of L100,000 was proposed to him in theIrish Parliament, "to purchase an estate, and build a suitable mansion,as the reward of gratitude by the Irish nation, for his eminent servicesto his country." It was intended as a mark of national gratitude to anation's Liberator. So unanimous was the feeling that, on the part ofthe Viceroy, a member of the Government offered "as part of the intendedgrant to Mr. Grattan, the Viceregal Palace in the Ph[oe]nix Park[Dublin], to be settled on Mr. Grattan and his heirs for ever, as asuitable residence for so meritorious a person." Grattan's own impulsewas to refuse the grant. His services had been rendered withoutexpectation or desire of reward. But his private fortune was soinadequate to his public position that he must retire
from politics orbecome a placeman under the Crown. The grant would give him anindependent position. He consented to accept half of the profferedamount (L50,000), and determined under no circumstances to take office.He was, ever after, the retained servant of the nation. Yet, high as hestood, he did not escape contumely. Even Henry Flood, his rival,publicly said, in a Parliamentary controversy, "I am not a mendicantpatriot, who was bought by my country for a sum of money, and then soldmy country to the Minister for prompt payment."
O'Connell's "Rent" was estimated as yielding from L10,000 to L20,000 ayear--thrice the amount, probably, that he could have realized at thebar, had he not devoted his time to politics. It was duly paid fornearly twenty years. Thus O'Connell received, in this annuity from hisparty, about five times as much as the Irish Parliament had given toGrattan. Besides, since 1825, when Derrynane became his by the death ofhis uncle, O'Connell's landed property was not less than L4,000 a year.The most potent objection to "the Rent" was that, collected year afteryear, it rendered its recipient liable to the imputation of keeping upAgitation in order to collect the Rent.
When O'Connell's uncle died, in 1825, at a very advanced age, (he wasseveral years past ninety,) the news reached O'Connell when he was oncircuit, at Limerick. He hastened to Kerry, to attend the funeral, anddid not again appear in court until the trials were proceeding in Cork.I had taken my seat, as a reporter, on the very day he made hisappearance, attired in full mourning. Setting immediately under him, Iheard one of the counsel congratulate him on his accession to hisuncle's large estate. "I had to wait for it a long time," saidO'Connell. "If this had happened twenty years ago, what would I now havebeen? A hard-living, sporting, country gentleman, content with my lot.As it is, I have had to struggle. I have succeeded; and look how brightare now the prospects of Ireland! I thank God that I had to struggle,since it has placed them as they are now."
To sum up the character of O'Connell's _political_, essentiallydifferent from his _forensic_, eloquence, I need not say more than thathe put strong words into fitting places. No man had a greater or morefelicitous command of language; no man cared less how his words weremarshalled. Many of his speeches are models of the truest eloquence, andperhaps he was the first Irishman, of modern days, who made a decidedhit in the Commons, as a sound and eloquent speaker, entering that Houseat the mature age of fifty. Powers such as his commandedattention;--but, in general, he spoke better in Ireland, among his ownpeople, than in England. Yet who can forget his magnificent oration infavour of the Reform Bill? Who can forget the later, and briefer, butnot less stirring speech, which he delivered, as a member of theAnti-Corn-law League, on his first visit to London, after the reversalof the Monster-Meetings' sentence of imprisonment.
In sarcasm O'Connell was unequalled. I shall give an instance of quietsarcasm which I think inimitable. In his domestic relations O'Connellwas peculiarly happy. His marriage with his cousin Mary, was one of pureaffection on both sides, and their love continued to the last, as warmas it had commenced in their youthful days.[21] John O'Connell, in 1846,writing of his mother, who was not long dead, said, with as much beautyas truth, "We can say no more than that doubting, she confirmedhim--desponding, she cheered him on--drooping, she sustained him--herpure spirit may have often trembled, indeed, as she beheld him exposedto a thousand assaults, and affronting a thousand dangers; but shequailed not, she called him not back. She rejoiced not more in hisvictories over them, than she would have heartily and devotedly sharedwith and soothed him in the sufferings, in the ruin, that might havecome upon him had he failed and been overthrown." On the other hand, theMarquis of Anglesey, in 1831, as Viceroy of Ireland, had O'Connellprosecuted for an imputed breach of the law. The Marquis had seduced thefirst wife of the late Lord Cowley, and married her after he wasdivorced from his wife, and Lady Cowley (then Mrs. Henry Wellesley) fromher husband. O'Connell, commenting, at a public meeting in Dublin, onLord Anglesey's conduct to him said, "This prosecution has cost my wifewhat none of _my_ transactions ever cost her--a tear for me. Does LordAnglesey know the value of a _virtuous_ woman's tear?"
[21] In 1802, O'Connell married his cousin, the daughter of Dr. O'Connell, of Tralee. By this lady he had four sons and three daughters. Two of the sons are now [1855] in Parliament. Maurice, the eldest, was a barrister, but never distinguished himself either as a lawyer or a politician. Morgan was for some time in the Austrian service, and distinguished himself as a gallant officer. His "affair of honour" with Lord Alvanley showed cool determination and honourable feeling. Mr. John O'Connell, who tried to take his father's place in Conciliation Hall, as Repeal Leader, has displayed little of the talent and tact which distinguished the Liberator. The youngest son, Daniel, is a very commonplace person. It is usually said, that the children of a great man rarely arrive at eminence, and the limited talents of O'Connell's sons keep up the proverb in full force, as far as he and they are concerned:
'Few men achieve the praise of their great sires, But most their sires disgrace.'
O'Connell's attempts at authorship were not very successful. His lettersto the "Hereditary bondsmen" were diffuse and declamatory. They werefull of repetitions, putting the points of a case in a variety ofphases, but they were by no means equal to the force, power, and nervouseloquence of his speeches. He was eminently an extemporaneous speaker,and, like Fox, appeared to more advantage as an orator than a writer.Yet many of his letters contain true eloquence. He hit hard, and couldbe terse when he pleased. Who can forget the alliterative satire of thethree words "base, bloody, and brutal," as applied to the Whigs?
His only substantive and independent work was Vol. I. of "A Memoir onIreland, Native and Saxon," published early in 1843. This book wasdedicated to the Queen, in order, as the Preface stated, "that theSovereign of these realms should understand the real nature of Irishhistory; should be aware of how much the Irish have suffered fromEnglish misrule; should comprehend the secret springs of Irishdiscontent; should be acquainted with the eminent virtues which theIrish have exhibited in every phasis of their singular fate; and, aboveall, should be intimately acquainted with the confiscations, theplunder, the robbery, the domestic treachery, the violation of allpublic faith, and of the servility of treaties, the ordinary wholesaleslaughters, the planned murders, the concerted massacres, which havebeen inflicted upon the Irish people by the English Government." Thisone sentence will sufficiently indicate the character of the work.O'Connell further stated, in his preface, that "there cannot happen amore heavy misfortune to Ireland than the prosperity and power of GreatBritain." He endeavoured to justify this assertion, by adding that"justice to Ireland" had never been granted except when Great Britainwas in difficulties. The work brought the "proofs and illustrations" ofBritish misrule in Ireland down to the Restoration. A second volume wasto have carried them down to the present period, but it never waspublished. Nor has Literature nor History sustained anyloss,--unless it was much superior to the first volume. The sevenopening chapters, rapidly sketching the history of English dominion inIreland from 1172 to 1840, are not devoid of a certain degree ofeloquence, but is anti-English to a degree. The historical "proofs andillustrations," are simply statements from partisan writers, withconnecting comments by O'Connell.
It was as a lawyer that O'Connell achieved his first distinctions. Hissuccess at the bar was assurance to his countrymen of his generalability. But, of late years, Mr. O'Connell was so exclusively before thepublic as a legislator, that he was forgotten as a barrister. Yet, inthe opinion of many, (among whom are those who have known him long andwell,) it was in the latter character that the peculiar idiosyncrasy ofthe man was fully developed--that his very rare and peculiar talentswere fully displayed.
Many men have obtained eminence at the Irish bar, but it has been forsome one peculiar merit. Thus, Harry Deane Grady was remarkable for theknowing manner in which he conducted a cross-examination. By that healternately wheedled and frightened a witness into admissions which
wereas opposite to his evidence in chief as light is from darkness. Thus,Chief Justice Bushe, while at the bar, was distinguished for thatclassic eloquence by which admiring juries were seduced, and admiringjudges were delighted. Pity that his elevation to the bench should haveextinguished this noble oratory. Thus, Curran was renowned for "thatsarcastic levity of tongue" which solicited a contest with thoseelevated in rank above himself. Thus, Shiel was remarkable forintroducing a style of speaking--full of antitheticalbrilliancies--which reminds us of the flashing speeches of the mostdistinguished advocates of France. Thus, Serjeant (now Judge) Perrin wasalmost unrivalled in threading through the intricacies of an excisecase. Thus, George Bennett won fame by his clear and plausible method ofstating a case. Thus, Devonshire Jackson (now a Judge) was excellent intaking exceptions to the form of an indictment. Thus, the late RecorderWaggett (of Cork) put that seeming of right into a case, by whichtrusting jurymen are so often deceived. But there was only one man atthe Irish bar who, more or less, united the excellencies of all whom Ihave named. He was as good at cross-examination as Harry Grady--he couldrise with the occasion, and be eloquent as Bushe--he could sport thebiting sarcasm of Curran--he even ventured on the antitheses of Shiel(though he seldom meddled with such sharp-edged weapons)--he was a matchfor Perrin in the excise courts--he could state a case plainly andplausibly as Bennett--he was as good a lawyer as Jackson, and couldappeal to "the reports" with as much success--and, like Waggett (againstwhom, in the Munster Courts, he was often pitted), he could show hiscase to be one of the utmost _seeming_ right, his client, like the lateQueen, of virtuous memory, to be clear as "unsunned snow." The man whocombined all these apparently dissimilar qualifications--the man whomuniversal consent named as the best general lawyer in Ireland--the manto whom Orange clients invariably ran with their briefs (a confidenceequally honourable to clients and lawyer), was O'Connell.
By far the best account of O'Connell, in his different phases as alawyer, is that in the "Sketches of the Irish Bar." Its essence iscontained in the little sentence--"Every requisite for a barrister ofall work is combined in him; some in perfection, all in sufficiency."
An anonymous writer in an English paper has given this reminiscence ofO'Connell: "I recollect at the spring assizes of I think it was '27,walking into the county court-house of Limerick. O'Connell was retainedin a record then being heard, and with him on the same side was his sonMaurice, who was bred to his father's profession, though he has sinceceased to follow it. It was a cold day, and both wore huge cloth cloaks:the Agitator's right arm was thrown very affectionately round his son'sneck, who, seemingly used to these public exhibitions of paternalfondness, took it very composedly. There was a rough-and-ready lookingpeasant at the moment under examination: in lieu of the ordinary boxused in most English courts, he was seated in a chair in the centre ofthe table between the fires of the counsel on either side; his shaggyhair and unshorn beard, his shirt collar open, the knees of his smallclothes in the same free and easy state, and one stocking fallen so asto leave a portion of his embrowned and hirsute leg bare; he had thechair partially turned round, so as to present a three-quarter front toO'Connell, who was _raking_ him with a cross-examination, which elicitedlaughter from every person in the court, including the witness himself,who, with his native freedom, impudence, and humour, was almost a matchfor the Agitator. The Agitator's face was beaming with fun, and heseemed very well disposed to show off, as if conscious that his auditorsexpected something from him. The country fellow, too, appeared to thinkthere were laurels to be earned in the encounter, for he played awaywith all his might, and though he failed repeatedly in his attempts tobe witty, he was always sure to be impudent. He waxed gradually morefamiliar, until at length he called the learned counsel nothing but'Dan;' it was, 'Yes, Dan,' or 'No, Dan,' or 'Arrah, you're not going tocome over me so easily, Dan.' Dan, to do him justice, enjoyed the joke,and humoured the witness in such a manner as at length to throw thefellow off his guard, and lead him into a maze of contradictionsnotwithstanding his shrewdness. O'Connell showed the utmostadroitness, and a thorough knowledge of the Irish peasant character,which is perhaps in no place so well acquired as in a provincial court.I cannot this moment recollect any single repartee which is worthrepeating, but it was the manner, the brogue, the laughing eye, thegeneral and humourous tone of the whole examination, and perhaps thevery spectacle of O'Connell himself trying legally to entrap and upsetthe veracity of one of his own "fine peasantry," which gave thatpeculiar interest and pleasantry to the scene. Nothing could surpass theseeming enjoyment which the country people took in the examination; andas the Agitator would throw off now and again one of his broad flashesof humour in the "keen encounter of their wits," and the witness wouldfire back some jocular effort at equivocation, you'd hear buzzed around,'Bravo, Dan,' 'Dan's the boy,' or some such phrase of approbation, whichit was out of the question to suppress. Blackburn,[22] then, I think, theAttorney-General, was on the bench, having taken the circuit for somejudge who was unwell; and though a dark and stern man, he was compelledto give way to the general fit of pleasantry in which the whole courtindulged."
[22] Afterwards Chief-Justice of the Queen's Bench, whence, in 1852, he was raised to the Chancellorship of Ireland, which he retained during the nine months of the Derby Administration.
O'Connell's business, on circuit as well as in the Dublin, was verygreat. On circuit, it was so overpowering that, except on very importantcases, he could not read his briefs, when employed to defend prisoners.The attorney for the defence used to condense the leading facts, and setthem down on a single sheet of foolscap; and O'Connell would peruse andmaster this abstract during the speech of the counsel for theprosecution, relying on his own skill in cross-examination of witnesses,and his own power with the jury. Like Belial, he "could make the worseappear the better reason," as many an acquitted culprit had cause toknow and thank him for.
Let me close this sketch with a glance of O'Connell, as I have oftenseen him, in an Irish Court of Law. _There_ he was to be met "in all hisglory." As I write, the shadows of long years roll away, and every thingappears as vivid and life-like as it was at that time.
To have seen O'Connell in the Law Courts of Dublin, was to have seen himnot exactly as himself. Before the judges, and in the capital of thekingdom, a certain _etiquette_ is preserved, very decorous and proper,no doubt, but very chilling also. It is on circuit that you best can seethe Irish bar, as they really are, and it is on circuit, also, that anobserver may advantageously study the character of the Irish people.Leave the chilling atmosphere of the Four Courts, give the reins toimagination, and sit, with me, in the Crown Courts of Cork, as I havesat in bygone years. To give something like reality to my sketch, Ishall write as if I still were in the year 1827, when O'Connell and therest whom I have to name were alive and flourishing.
What a difference between this court and that of a circuit court inEngland! Look around you:--there stands not a single female in the Irishcourt. To attend there, with the chance of having it ever hinted thatdelicacy requires their absence, would ill suit the modest precision ofthe fair dames of Ireland. Nor do I think that the course of justicesuffers from the absence of the fair sex. What business have ladies in acourt of justice? Do they want information as to the trials?--they cansee them reported in "those best possible instructors," the newspapers.Do they want to see the manner in which justice is administered?--ifthey _will_ be so curious, and if that curiosity must be gratified, letthem come once and no more. As it is, the English courts have femalestagers, who attend day after day, and listen to arguments which theycannot comprehend. I suspect that their chief design is to show off;they come to see, but they also come "to be seen." The only preventivewould be to enforce their attendance; when, if they be true women, thespirit of opposition will make them remain at home!
Whatever be the cause, there is a non-attendance of females at the Irishcourts of law. The galleries are filled with rough-coated andrough-faced folks; some, who have not visit
ed the city since the lastassizes--some, who have relatives to be tried--some, out on bail, andhonourably come to take their own trial--all, even to the merelooker-on, deeply interested in the proceedings; for the Irish, from thehighest to the lowest degree, are fond of the _forms_ of justice. Of the_reality_ they have hitherto got but little; but they like to see thatlittle administered with the due formalities of the law.
The judge enters the court, and takes his seat on the bench. You ask,with astonishment, "When will the barristers come?" Why, _there_, do younot see his lordship rise, and make an obeisance to the gentlemen whosit in the box above us? These are the barristers. You may seem asunbelieving as you choose, but such is the case. The fact is, and Ishould have mentioned it before, when Irish barristers go on thecircuit[23] they do not burthen themselves with wigs or gowns--forensicparaphernalia, to which their legal brethren on the English side of theChannel attach such infinite importance, that you might fancy theythought all wit and wisdom[24] to be attached to _them_. You can scarcelyimagine a more unformal or unceremonious court than that to which I haveintroduced you. The attorneys sit round the table, mingled with the"gentlemen of the press," the barristers are in the boxes immediatelyover the attornies, and the audience sit or stand where and how theycan.
[23] I write of 1827. I know not what may be the practice now.
[24] "The wisdom's in the wig."--_Old Song._
There is a pause--for a great murder trial is to come on--O'Connell hasjust been engaged for the defence--is occupied in the other court, andthe judge must wait until he can make his appearance. During this pauseyou see a familiarity between the bench and the bar which seems strangeto your English eyes. Yet, after all, what is it? Will the laws be awhit less honestly administered or advocated because the judge and oneof the lawyers (Chief Baron O'Grady and Recorder Waggett) are laughingtogether? Depend on it, that, if the opportunity comes, the judge willfling out one of his bitter sarcasms against the barrister, and I knowlittle of the barrister if he does not retort--if he can!
A bustle in the court. Does O'Connell come? No; but a message from him,with the intimation that the trial may go on, and he will "drop in" inhalf an hour. The clerk of the peace reads the indictment--the murdererpleads "Not Guilty," stands in the dock with compressed lips, andbursting veins, and withering frown, and scowling eyes--a fit subjectfor the savage pencil of Spagnaletto.
While the indictment is reading, a very dandified "middle-aged younggentleman," attired in a blue coat, with enormous brass buttons, acrimson silk neckcloth, and a most glaring pair of buckskins, jumps onthe table, makes way across it with a "hop, step and jump," and locateshimself in a box directly under the judge. You inquire, who is thatneophyte?--the answer is, Carew Standish O'Grady, the registrar[25] ofthe circuit, barrister-at-law, and nephew to the judge. You turn up youreyes in wonder--the prothonotary of an English court would scarcelysport such a fox-hunter's garb.
[25] It may be noticed that, in New York, the Registrar is called the _Register_--the name of the _book_ being applied to the man who has the _office_ of keeping it.
The trial commences. Serjeant Goold states the case--advantageously forthe prisoner, for the learned Serjeant has so defective an utterancethat he is scarcely audible even to the reporters below him. But hisserjeantcy gives him that precedence at the bar, on account of which thechief conduct of Crown prosecutions devolves to him. Meanwhile the ChiefBaron turns to the High Sheriff, and cracks jokes; his hopeful nephew,less ambitious, produces a bag and some salt, and merely--cracks nuts.
The opening is over--the chief witness (probably an approver or King'sevidence) is brought on the table--he is sworn, and attempts to bafflejustice by kissing his thumb instead of the book. There is a deadsilence in the court; for it is felt that the moment is awful with thefate of a fellow-creature.
He has just been successful _for_ an Orangeman _against_ aCatholic; but what does that matter? The people do justice to his merit;so _he_ succeeds, what care they against whom?
Another pause--a buzz in the court--"quite a sensation," as a dandymight exquisitely exclaim--the prisoner's eyes brightens up with thegleam of hope--he sees O'Connell, at last, seated among the barristers.What! is that O'Connell? that stalwart, smiling, honest-looking man? Thesame. Never did a public man assume less pretension to personalappearance. Yet, if you look closely, you may observe that he doesanything but neglect the graces. His clothes are remarkably well made,the tie of his cravat is elaborate, his handsome eye-glass is sodisposed that it can be seen as well as used, and his "Brutus" (for'twould be heinous to utter the word "wig") gives an air of juvenilitywhich his hilarious manners fully confirm.
Until this moment of his entering the court, he knows nothing of thecase--he has not yet received a brief. Mr. Daltera (you will rememberthat the scene is in Cork--the time 1827), the lame attorney, hands hima bulky brief, (which he puts, unread, into the bag,) and an abstract ofthe case, written on one sheet of paper. His blue eyes calmly glanceover this case--he takes in, at that glance, all its bearings, and hequietly listens to the evidence of the accomplice. Thecross-examination commences. Every eye is watchful--every ear on the_qui vive_--every man in court stretches forward to see the battlebetween "the Counsellor" and "the witness." You may see the prisonerwith an eager glance of expectation--the witness with an evident senseof the coming crisis. The battle commences with anything butseriousness; O'Connell surprises the witness by his good humour, andinstantly sets him at ease. He coaxes out of him a full confession ofhis own unworthiness,--he tempts him, by a series of facetiousquestions, into an admission of his "whole course of life,"--in a word,he draws from his lips an autobiography, in which the direst crimes aremingled with an occasional relief of feeling or of fun. The witnessseems to exult in the "bad eminence" on which his admissions exalt him.He joins in the laugh at the quaintness of his language,--he scarcelyshrinks from the universal shudders at the enormity of his crimes. Bydegrees he is led to the subject of the evidence he has just given, asan accomplice,--the coil is wound round him imperceptibly; fact afterfact is weakened, until, finally, such doubt is thrown upon _all_ thathe has said,--from the evident exaggeration of _part_,--that a lessingenious advocate than O'Connell might rescue the prisoner fromconviction on _such_ evidence. The main witness having "broken down,"(as much from the natural doubt and disgust excited in the minds of anIrish jury, by the circumstance of a _particeps criminis_ being evidenceagainst one who may have been more sinned against than sinning,--who mayhave been seduced into the paths of error by the very man who now bearstestimony against him,) the result of the trial is not very difficult tobe foreseen. If there is any doubt, the matter is soon made clear by afew _alibi_ witnesses--practiced rogues with the most innocent aspects,who swear anything or everything to "get a friend out of trouble." Thechances are ten to one that O'Connell brings off the prisoner. If he isnot acquitted, he may, at least, be only found guilty on the minor pleaof "manslaughter."
But the chances are that he will be acquitted, for few juries everresisted the influence of O'Connell's persuasive eloquence.
Such is the scene exhibited by one glance backward:--such,five-and-twenty years ago, was constantly occurring in the Irish courtsof law when O'Connell practiced at the bar.
Even at the risk of being accounted tedious, I cannot conclude thissketch without mentioning another anecdote, which, even better than alengthened disquisition, may show that I do not overrate theextraordinary ingenuity and quickness for which I give O'Connell suchample credit. One of the most remarkable personages in Cork, for aseries of years, was a sharp-witted little fellow named John Boyle,[26]who published a periodical called _The Freeholder_. As Boyle did not seethat any peculiar dignity hedged the corrupt Corporation of Cork, his_Freeholder_ was remarkable for severe and satirical remarks upon itsmembers, collectively and personally. Owing to the very greatprecautions as to the mode of publication, it was next to impossible forthe Corporation to proceed against him for libel;--if they could havedo
ne so, his punishment was certain, for in those days there were nonebut "Corporation juries," and the fact that Boyle was hostile to themunicipal _clique_, was quite enough for these worthy administrators ofjustice. It happened, on the occasion of a crowded benefit at thetheatre, that Boyle and one of the Sheriffs were coming out of the pitat the same moment. A sudden crush drove the scribe against the Sheriff,and the concussion was so great that the latter had two of his ribsbroken. There could be no doubt that the whole was accidental; but itwas too lucky not to be taken advantage of. Mr. Boyle was prosecuted forassault. O'Connell was retained for the defence. The trial came onbefore a Corporation jury. The evidence was extremely slight; but it wasan understood thing that on _any_ evidence, or _no_ evidence, the jurywould convict Boyle. Mr. O'Connell (who was personally inimical to theCorporation) scarcely cross-examined a witness and called none indefence.
[26] Boyle died at Limerick, in 1833, of cholera.
He proceeded to reply. After some hyperbolical compliments on the"well-known impartiality, independence, and justice of a Cork jury," heproceeded to address them thus:--"I had no notion that the case is whatit is; therefore I call no witnesses. As I have received a brief, andits accompaniment--a fee--I must address you. I am not in the vein formaking a speech, so, gentlemen, I shall tell you a story. Some years agoI went, specially, to Clonmel assizes, and accidentally witnessed atrial which I never shall forget. A wretched man, a native of the countyof Tipperary, was charged with the murder of his neighbour. It seemedthat an ancient feud existed between them. They had met at a fair andexchanged blows: again, that evening, they met at a low pot-house, andthe bodily interference of friends alone prevented a fight between them.The prisoner was heard to vow vengeance against his rival. The wretchedvictim left the house, followed soon after by the prisoner, and wasfound next day on the roadside--murdered, and his face so barbarouslybeaten in by a stone, that he could only be identified by his dress. Thefacts were strong against the prisoner--in fact it was the strongestcase of circumstantial evidence I ever met with. As a matter ofform--for of his guilt there could be no doubt--the prisoner was calledon for his defence. He called, to the surprise of every one,--_themurdered man_. And the murdered man came forward. It seemed thatanother man had been murdered,--that the identification by dress wasvague, for all the peasantry of Tipperary wear the same description ofclothes,--that the presumed victim had got a hint that he would bearrested under the Whiteboy Act,--had fled,--and only returned, with anoble and Irish feeling of justice, when he found that his ancient foewas in jeopardy on his account. The case was clear: the prisoner wasinnocent. The judge told the jury that it was unnecessary to chargethem. But they requested permission to retire. They returned in abouttwo hours, when the foreman, with a long face, handed in the verdict'Guilty.' Every one was astonished. 'Good God!' said the judge, 'of whatis he guilty? Not of murder, surely?'--'No, my lord,' said the foreman;'but, _if he did not murder that man, sure he stole my gray mare threeyears ago_!'"[27]
[27] Mr. Love has "conveyed" this incident into his romance of "Rory O'More."
The Cork jurors laughed heartily at this anecdote, but, ere their mirthhad time to cool, O'Connell continued, with marked emphasis, "So,gentlemen of the jury, _though Mr. Boyle did not wilfully assault theSheriff, he has libelled the Corporation,--find him guilty, by allmeans_!" The application was so severe, that the jury, shamed intojustice, instantly acquitted Mr. Boyle.
It is time to hurry this sketch to a conclusion.
Some words about the man. In person, Mr. O'Connell was well made,muscular, and tall. He looked the man to be the leader of a people. Hewas fond of field sports, and while at Derrynane Abbey, for four monthsin the year, lived like a country gentleman, surrounded by his numerousrelatives, and exercising the wonted hospitality of Ireland. Hisfeatures were strongly marked--the mouth being much more expressive thanthe eyes. His voice was deep, sonorous, and somewhat touched with thetrue Kerry _patois_.
He was seen to much advantage in the bosom of his family, to whom he wasgreatly attached, a feeling which was reciprocated with veneration aswell as love. His conversation was delightful, embracing a vast range ofsubjects. He was a great reader--and, even in the most busy and excitingperiods of his political life, found (or made) time to peruse theperiodicals and novels of the day.
He was well acquainted with modern poetry, and was fond of repeatinglong passages from Byron, Moore, Scott, Crabbe, Tennyson, and others. Hewas a good classical scholar, though I have heard him say that hedoubted whether, after the age of twenty-one, he had ever opened a Latinor Greek book from choice. French he spoke and wrote extremely well.Many of his classical hits, in Court, were good--but few are remembered.I shall give one as a sample. In a political trial he charged Saurin,the Attorney-General, with some official unfairness, and Burke, hiscolleague, chivalrously assumed the responsibility. "If there is blamein it," said Burke, "I alone must bear it.
'Me, me, adsum qui feci, in me convertite ferrum.'"
"Finish the sentence, Mr. Solicitor," said O'Connell; "add
'Mea _fraus_ omnis.'"
When at home, he lived in the good old Irish style. He kept awell-spread table, and was idolized by the peasantry. His residence,Derrynane Abbey, is built on a bold situation, next the Atlantic, andcommands a view of the Skelligs. The "Abbey," as it is called, is acomparatively modern edifice, which has received various additions fromsuccessive residents. It is irregularly built; so much so, indeed, as tobe any thing but a model of architecture. It is convenient, and, in thewilds of Kerry, that should suffice; for who expects a Grecian dome insuch a place? The real Derrynane Abbey (or rather its ruins) stands on alittle island in the Atlantic.
There is little statute-law about Derrynane, and nearly all the disputesin the neighbourhood were allowed to rest until O'Connell could decideon them. He used to sit, like a patriarch, upon a huge rock, in view andhearing of the tumultuous throbbing of the Atlantic, and there givejudgment, against which no one presumed to appeal. Already that ruggedseat is called "O'Connell's Chair."
On the 15th day of May, 1847, having nearly completed his seventy-secondyear, Daniel O'Connell departed this life. He had quitted the land ofhis birth to seek for renewal of health beneath more clement skies,--so,before him, had Sir Walter Scott. But the great novelist was happierthan the illustrious orator; and died, at least, in his own country, andin his own house. From the first, it seems that O'Connell entertained nohope of completing his pilgrimage. He feared, and I think he felt, thathe was not destined to reach Rome, the Eternal City.
The account of his last days, as given, at the time, by _Galignani'sMessenger_ (the English journal published in Paris), is full of deepinterest. It is from the pen of Dr. Duff, the English physician whoattended him at Genoa. This gentleman first saw him on the 10thMay--just five days before he died. On the first visit, he found thatthe patient had chronic bronchitis, of some years' standing. The nextday it was found that congestion of the brain had commenced. On the12th, the illness increased; for the patient, like Byron, had almost aninsuperable objection to take medicine. Then, for the first time, themind began to waver. On the 13th he became worse, slept heavily duringthe night, breathed with difficulty, fancied himself among his friendsin London, and spoke as if among them. On the 14th the words fell,half-formed, from his lips. Thus he lingered until the next night,unable to move or speak, but conscious of the presence of those aroundhim. At half-past nine on that night he died. Had he taken nourishmentand medicine, he might have lived a few days longer. But not all of himis dead--his memory remains, and will long be kept green in the heartsof his countrymen.
Had O'Connell lived until the 6th of August, he would have completed hisseventy-second year. He enjoyed excellent health through the greaterpart of his life, and had every chance of living to extended old age.His family are proverbially long-lived; his uncle Maurice, from whom heinherited Derrynane Abbey, was 97 when he died; and O'Connell repeatedlysaid that he intended to live quite as lo
ng, _if he could_, nor was itunlikely that he also might approach the patriarchal age of one hundredyears.
His last words to his physician conveyed a request that, as he was surehe would present the appearance of death before he actually breathed hislast, they would not suffer the grave to be closed too promptly over hisremains. His strong hope was to die in Rome, his last moments soothedand sanctified by the blessing of Pope Pius IX. He repeatedly expresseda desire that his heart should rest (as it does) in one of the Churchesof the Eternal City. This wish was suggested, it has been said, by therecollection that Robert Bruce had desired his heart to be conveyed tothe Holy Land and deposited in the Holy Sepulchre at Jerusalem. He diedwithout pain, gently as an infant sinks into repose, calmed by theconsolations of religion; and, it seemed to his attendants, not onlycontent to quit mortality, but even anxious to be released. His body wasembalmed, and is deposited in the Cemetery of Glasnevin near Dublin.
As to the ability, the mental resources, the vast power of O'Connell,there can be no dispute. Unquestionably he was the greatest Irishman ofhis time. In estimating the conduct and character of public men, twothings, it appears to me, should be considered: the value of theirlabours and their motive. O'Connell, on starting into life, found thathis religion debarred him from many privileges and advantages enjoyed bypersons of another creed, and he applied himself, earnestly, to removethese disabilities. He succeeded, and in the long and perseveringstruggle which he headed, acquired vast influence, and a popularitywhich helped, with the aid of his own legal knowledge and skill, toplace him in the foremost rank of his profession. At the age offifty-four--in spite of the saying that an oak of the forest rarelybears transplanting--he entered the British Parliament, where he soontook a prominent position. Thenceforth his constant aim was to coax orfrighten the Government into the concessions which were included in thedemand for "Justice for Ireland." The threat of Repeal was used forthis purpose.
The question whether he really desired to carry Repeal is difficult tobe answered. That Ireland should have laws made for herself, by her ownlegislature, may or may not have been a desire with O'Connell. But that,when agitating for the Repeal of the parchment union between Ireland andGreat Britain, he had the remotest intention or wish to effect the_separation_ of the two countries, no thoughtful observer can imagine.Separation, in O'Connell's eyes, meant a Republic, and O'Connell wasessentially a Monarchist. He had an antipathy, also, to the exercise ofphysical force to procure the restitution of a people's rights. In allprobability, had he lived during the struggle of the American colonies,O'Connell would have sided with those who condemned the Americans as"rebels to their King." Truth to say, he was rather an ultra-loyalist.This appeared, in 1821, when, kneeling on the shore, at Dunleary, hepresented a crown of laurel to George IV.,--in 1832, when he glorifiedWilliam IV. as the "patriot King"--in 1837, when he appealed (at theelections) in favor of Victoria as "a Virgin-Queen," forgetful that thisdistinctive epithet, belonging to all unmarried girls of eighteen, wouldbe forfeited, of course, _when she became a wife_!
It may be conceded, however, that though O'Connell would have shrunkfrom seeing Ireland actually separated from England, he was sincere inhis exertions to obtain Emancipation, and, subsequently, to wrest otherrights and privileges from successive administrations. "Ireland for theIrish" was his favourite cry; but it meant little when uttered by a manwho feverishly feared all _real_ agitation, tending to assert and securethe actual independence of the country. With him, "Repeal," if it meantanything, meant continuance under the rule of the British Sovereign."Repeal" was a capital party cry, but he dreaded it when it was taken upby men not less patriotic, though a little less "loyal" than himself,who thought that boldness, courage, union, and talent could raiseIreland from a provincial obscurity into a national independence.
Great good was undoubtedly performed by O'Connell. His course was ofteneccentric, capricious, inexplicable. His abilities were great. He mademuch of opportunities. He wielded all but sovereign power over hiscountrymen for years. He naturally became impatient of contradiction,and very impracticable. But, with all his faults, O'Connell wasessentially a great man.
THE END.