By JUSTIN MCCARTHY

(1775-1847)

[Footnote 8: Copyright, 1894, by Selmar Hess.]

[Illustration: O'Connell. [TN]]

Daniel O'Connell, undoubtedly one of the greatest Irishmen that ever

lived, and according to Mr. Lecky perhaps the greatest political

agitator that the modern world has known, was born August 6, 1775, in

the county of Kerry, in Ireland. His parents were of good family, but

comparatively poor, his father being a second son. Later on, Daniel was

adopted by an uncle, through whom he came in for the property of

Darrynane, made famous by his name. He was sent when a boy--the fact is

worth noticing--to the first school kept openly by a Catholic priest

since the establishment of the penal laws. Afterward he became a student

in France--in St. Omer and in Douay, until the outbreak of the French

Revolution made it unsafe for him to remain longer in France--or at all

events until his family believed that it would not be safe for him to

remain there any longer. The excesses of the Revolution greatly shocked

and horrified the young O'Connell, and indeed the effect of that early

shock was felt by him all through his career. He became impressed with

an almost morbid detestation of all forms of blood-shedding; and for a

while after his return to Ireland he firmly believed himself to be a

Conservative in politics. But the system of administration which

prevailed in Great Britain and Ireland under Conservative governments

soon convinced him that he could have nothing to do with Conservatism,

and he very soon became--what he ever after continued to be--a Liberal

as regarded Imperial policy, and indeed something more than a

Liberal--what we should now call a Radical. He studied for the bar, and

was, to all appearance, little inclined for anything but law and field

sports. He was a keen sportsman, and, like another distinguished

Irishman, "all his life long he loved rivers, and poets who sang of

rivers." He made rapid way in his profession, and soon became one of the

foremost advocates in Ireland. He was a safe, shrewd, keen lawyer as

well as a great advocate--the two parts do not always go together. He

was a master of the art of cross-examination and he was a magnificent

speaker--his speeches were aflame with humor, and pathos, and passion.

His voice was one of immense power and sweetness and variety of tone.

Mr. Disraeli in one of his books, when praising to the highest the

superb voice of the great Sir Robert Peel, says that he had never heard

its superior "except indeed in the thrilling tones of O'Connell." The

Irish advocate had the advantage, too, of a commanding presence. He was

tall and moulded in almost herculean form, and he had eyes which were

often compared with those of Robert Burns--the light of genius was in

them. There is a full-length picture of him in the Reform Club, London,

which enables one to understand how stately and imposing his presence

must have been.

The career of O'Connell would appear to have been easily marked out for

him. He was the foremost advocate in Ireland; he was making a large

income; he had inherited a considerable property--what was there for him

but to go on and prosper; make money, hunt, shoot, fish, and be happy.

He could not indeed obtain any of the honors or dignities of his

profession. He could not even be a king's counsel, and wear a silk gown.

His religion cut him off from all such marks of distinction--for he was

a member of the Catholic Church. But no penal laws prevented him from

addressing juries and winning verdicts and attracting popular admiration

and making money. He was very happily married--a genuine love-match, it

would seem to have been, and the love lasted. Moreover he was strongly

and almost unreasonably opposed to all manner of agitation that bordered

on rebellion or even on sedition. He was positively unjust, he was

utterly unreasonable, in his estimate of the rebellion of 1798 and

Robert Emmet's abortive effort in 1803. He never did full justice even

to the brave men who were concerned in these movements. He had an

absolute detestation for all manner of secret societies. He knew too

well that they only ended in betrayal by some traitor who had contrived

to be admitted to their ranks. Under such conditions and with such views

what was there to induce the successful and prosperous advocate who

loved peace and who hated social disturbance, to mix himself up with

political affairs at a time when national politics meant for a patriotic

Irishman only social exclusion, danger, poverty, and even ruin?

O'Connell could not help himself. He had to walk, as Carlyle says of a

very different man, "his own wild road whither that led him."

O'Connell's wild road--the road that he had to walk, led him to the

leadership of two great national movements.

To understand what O'Connell fought against we must, of course,

understand O'Connell's time. It is not easy for an American reader to

understand it without some thought and without the endeavor to grasp the

reality of a state of things quite outside his own living experience.

When O'Connell began his career in politics the Act of Union had but

lately been passed. That Act of Union deprived Ireland of the more or

less independent Parliament which she had had for generations and even

for centuries. It was indeed a Parliament "more or less"

independent--less, perhaps, much rather than more. Still there had been

always a recognition of Irish nationality in the existence of any form

of Irish Parliament. The troubles between England and her American

colonies--between England and France--had led to the concession of what

we now know as Grattan's Parliament--the nearest form of Home Rule

Ireland had ever enjoyed since her conquest by the descendants of the

great Norman kings. But it was a Parliament of Protestants--no Catholic,

in a nation of which five-sixths were Catholics, could sit in the

National Parliament or even give a vote for a member of that National

Parliament. Grattan's Parliament was exclusively Protestant; but yet,

with all its imperfections, so nationalist was it in spirit that it was

willing, under Grattan's inspiration, to enable Roman Catholics to vote

for the election of members of the Irish House of Commons. But Grattan

and his friends were anxious to go much farther. They demanded a

complete political equality for the Roman Catholics. A society was

formed for the purpose of conducting the agitation. Its leaders were

almost all Protestants--many of them were Protestants from Ulster. The

stupid bigotry of George the Third bluntly refused Catholic

Emancipation; and the Society of United Irishmen became a rebellious

organization. The rebellion of 1798 broke out and was crushed after

terrible bloodshed. Then, when Ireland was wholly at the mercy of

England, Pitt brought in his proposal for an Act of Union. After much

resistance from all that was patriotic in Ireland and all that was

sympathetic in England, the Act of Union was carried--by fraud and force

and bribery and purchase. It has to be remembered with satisfaction that

some of the noblest Englishmen of the time were as strenuously opposed

to such a measure as Grattan himself. Pitt had made liberal promises

about Catholic Emancipation while he was striving to carry the Act of

Union, but when the Act was passed he dropped all talk about Catholic

Emancipation, and pleaded as his excuse that the king would not listen

to any further proposals on the subject. O'Connell's first political

speech was made in January, 1800, at a meeting of Catholics held in

Dublin to protest against the Act of Union.

Something else had to be done, however, before it could be possible in

Ireland to encounter the Act of Union with anything like a successful

constitutional agitation. The right had to be obtained for a Catholic to

sit in Parliament. The Catholic Association had been formed for the

purpose, and O'Connell became its recognized leader, and, more than

that, the recognized leader of the Irish people. Meanwhile there were

constant efforts made in Parliament for the emancipation of the

Catholics. Sir Robert Peel, who had begun his career as Chief Secretary

to the Lord Lieutenant of Ireland, had become Secretary of State for the

Home Department--and it may be well to mention to American readers that

the Irish Secretaryship is really a subordinate part of the Home Office.

Peel, as Home Secretary, was necessarily kept in constant touch with

everything going on in Ireland. He was greatly impressed by some of the

debates in the House of Commons. He was especially impressed by an

observation which Lord Brougham, then Mr. Brougham, made in a speech

supporting Catholic Emancipation, to the effect that not one of those

who spoke against emancipation had ventured even to suggest that things

could remain as they then were. Something will have to be done, Peel

said to himself. What is the something to be? The new king, George the

Fourth, in whose succession to the throne O'Connell and Thomas Moore and

the Irish people generally had had so much hope, was doggedly opposed to

the political relief of the Catholics.

Accident helped to bring about a settlement of the question. A sudden

vacancy occurred in the Parliamentary representation of the County of

Clare, owing to the fact that the former representative had accepted

office in the government, and had therefore to offer himself for

re-election. The leaders of the Catholic Association determined on the

bold policy of putting forward a candidate to contest the seat.

O'Connell, of course, was recognized by everyone as the man to fight the

battle. He willingly accepted the responsibility. Even moderate men,

partly sympathetic, shook their heads when they heard of this

determination. "O'Connell will end his life on the gallows" was the

confident prediction of some who passed among their neighbors for

sensible persons. The Viceroy of Ireland predicted that O'Connell would

take care to maintain good order in Clare during the election.

O'Connell's opponent predicted that O'Connell would not dare to come to

Clare in person; that he would not run the risk of confronting his

enemies. O'Connell ran the risk--he was not a man likely to be afraid of

risks. He went to Clare. The enthusiasm was wild, but the order was

perfect. O'Connell, the excluded Catholic, was elected by a majority of

more than two to one. The result set Peel thinking. What he thought we

have in his own words. Was it possible to take no account of "that

political and religious excitement which was quickening the pulse and

fluttering the bosom of the whole Catholic population--which had

inspired the serf of Clare with the resolution and the energy of a

freeman?" No, it was not possible. Peel soon made up his mind.

O'Connell presented himself at the bar of the House of Commons later on,

but not until after Peel and Wellington had crammed emancipation down

the king's throat and compelled him to accept it. Wellington seems to

have reasoned much in this way: "I know nothing about the question--Peel

knows all about it; Peel thinks it will be for the good of the king and

the country to pass Catholic Emancipation; the king, I am sure, does not

know any more about the matter than I do, and I am prepared to go with

Peel, and the king must come with us. Peel thinks there must be civil

war if we don't pass Catholic Emancipation, and I have had too much of

war in my time--and I don't propose to stand a civil war--not if I know

it." The king had, of course, to give way in the end, and Catholic

Emancipation was passed. It was passed rather ungraciously. It was

accompanied by a quite superfluous measure suppressing the Catholic

Association, which had in fact already dissolved itself, its work being

done, and invalidating the election of O'Connell. Perhaps, without these

sops to religious bigotry, an act for the emancipation of the Catholics

could not then have been carried through the Houses of Parliament.

O'Connell presented himself at the bar of the House of Commons and

claimed a right to take his seat. He was called upon to swear the old

oaths--what we may fairly call the anti-Catholic oaths. Of course he

refused. A new writ was ordered for Clare, and O'Connell was

triumphantly returned. The struggle was over.

The remainder of O'Connell's life was devoted mainly to the cause of

Repeal of the Union--in other words, the cause of Home Rule. He

organized the great system of monster meetings--vast out-of-door

gatherings, which he swayed as he pleased by the magic of his eloquence,

his humor, his passion, and the charm of his wonderful voice. No doubt

he sometimes used very strong language; no doubt some of the younger men

fully believed that he meant rebellion--that he had rebellion up his

sleeve if his demands were not conceded. The meetings were always held

on the Sunday; were indeed, regarded as, in a certain sense, religious

celebrations. The meeting of October 8, 1843, was to be held on the

historic ground of Clontarf, and it was expected to be the greatest of

all the assemblages, although some of them had drawn together a crowd of

nearly a quarter of a million of men. The Government issued a

proclamation prohibiting the meeting, and O'Connell bowed to the

prohibition. He sent messengers in every direction countermanding the

assembling of men, in order to prevent any chance of that disorder and

bloodshed which he had always shrunk from and abhorred. He and some of

his friends, Sir Charles Gavan Duffy among the rest, were put on their

trial on a charge of sedition. Most of them were found guilty and

sentenced to fine and imprisonment. They were confined in Richmond

Prison, Dublin. Their incarceration did not last long, and indeed, was

what might be called "internment" rather than actual imprisonment. A

majority of the law lords in the House of Peers, the final tribunal,

annulled the sentences on the ground that the jury had been unfairly

chosen--was packed, in fact. O'Connell and his colleagues were set free

after a few months; but the leader never recovered his former ascendency

over the political movement of Ireland. He was growing old; he had been

reckless of his great physical resources, he had been unsparing of his

strength; and undoubtedly, the younger men in the agitation fell away

from him when he had made it clear that he never meant, under any

conditions, to lead them into revolution. A number of his young and

brilliant followers set up a party of their own--the Young Ireland

Confederation--which after his death drifted into a generous, but

hopeless, rebellion. The Young Ireland movement, however, quickened and

established a national literature which had an immense effect on

subsequent political history in Ireland. The Irish famine of 1846 and

1847 was a terrible blow to O'Connell in his rapidly weakening health.

His last speech in the House of Commons was an appeal for a generous

help to Ireland, and a prediction, which proved only too true, that if

generous help were not given, one-fourth of Ireland's population must

perish by starvation. His physicians ordered him to the Continent, and

he passionately longed to reach Rome and die under the shadow of the

Vatican. He had during some of his years led a wild life, and he had

killed a man in a duel--a duel which was literally forced upon him, but

for which he always felt deeply penitent. His ultimate longing had come

to be a quiet death in the papal city. He was not graced so far. He died

in Genoa on May 15, 1847.

As a politician O'Connell was absolutely consistent. He was in favor of

liberty for Ireland, but he was in favor of liberty for every other

country. His definition of liberty was practical and not merely

declamatory. He was in favor of equal rights for all men before the law;

he was in favor of a free press, a free vote, and as nearly as possible

a manhood suffrage. He was in many ways far in advance of the English

liberals of his day. When the question of slavery in the West Indian

colonies was under discussion in Parliament, he went farther for

abolition than even the professed philanthropists and emancipationists,

the Clarksons and the Buxtons, were inclined to go. He was almost

fanatically opposed to the advocates of the slave system in the United

States, and he refused to receive any help in money from them to carry

on his Repeal agitation. He declined to endure any political dictation

from the Vatican, although he was a most devoted Roman Catholic. He

would take, he said, without question his religion from Rome, but not

his politics. There was no great cause of freedom upheld all through the

world in his time, but he clung to it and cleaved to it. The writer of

this article once talked to Mr. Gladstone about O'Connell, well knowing

that in early life Mr. Gladstone had been a great admirer of O'Connell's

abilities. Mr. Gladstone told many anecdotes of O'Connell's personal

energy in pursuit of any purpose which he believed to be just, and in

illustration of his wonderful mastery over even a thoroughly hostile

audience. When asked what he believed to be O'Connell's principal

characteristic, Mr. Gladstone paused for a while and thought the

question out, and then gravely and deliberately answered: "I should

think his greatest characteristic was a passion of philanthropy." A

passion of philanthropy! Is it possible to have a nobler epitaph

pronounced on one than that--and pronounced by such a man? No man in our

modern history was ever so bitterly and savagely denounced in England as

O'Connell. No words were too rough for him. He was commonly called in

English newspapers the "Big Beggarman." He was accused every day, of

making a fortune out of the contributions of a half-starving people. The

truth was that all and much more than all the money raised by the Irish

people, was spent on the agitation for repeal of the Union. The truth

was that O'Connell gave up his splendid practice at the bar, for the

sake of advocating the Irish national cause. The truth was that he spent

his own money and reduced his own property to all but pauperism, for the

sake of advancing the same cause. The truth was that he died poor,

leaving his children poor. But he had his reward. A man whom Mr.

Gladstone could describe as possessed above all other things by a

passion of philanthropy, may leave his memory safely in the charge of

those whose best interests he honestly strove to serve.

[Signature of the author.]

Great Men and Famous Women. Vol. 4 A series of pen and pencil sketches of the lives of more than 200 of the most prominent personages in History · 第 39 / 72 题