THOMAS DAVIS, HIS EARLY LABOURS.--THE "NATION" NEWSPAPER.--PROGRESS OF
THE ASSOCIATION.--CLONTARF MEETING.--THE STATE TRIALS.--THE YOUNG
IRELAND PARTY.--SMITH O'BRIEN.--FEDERALISM.--THE BEQUEST ACT.
Even before this great occasion, gifted spirits were insensibly moulding
the character and destiny of the Association. The hurried but firm step
of a pale student of Trinity College might be daily seen pacing the
unfrequented flagways that led to the Corn Exchange. His penetrating
glance, half shrouded by its own shyness, his face averted from the
crowd, and his mind turned within, he would come, and sit, and hear, and
suppress the emotions that swelled his proud young heart as he caught
glimpses of a bright future for his country. He had the richest store of
practical knowledge, an imagination fruitful as a sunny clime: faith,
hope and courage boundless as immortal love. That he could realise all
things which came within the scope of his own fond yearnings, he had no
doubt. But most of the men with whom he took his place were stinted in
acquirements, and not over-gifted in intellect, and had no conception or
ambition beyond admiring or applauding the behests of one predominant
and controlling will. With the passionate aspirations of the young
student they felt no kindred sympathies. In their hands, political
action, for whatever end, sank into a traffic or parade. Even with such
materials he determined to work out his country's redemption, though
already satisfied that before such a thing were possible, their habits,
feelings, passions and hearts should be entirely changed. In order to do
this, it was necessary he should stoop to the level of their conceptions
and capacities. Thus for many weary months, with his energies, as it
were, chained down to a cold stone, toiled and strove Thomas Davis. His
influence first began to be felt as chairman of a sub-committee on the
registers. This position afforded him an opportunity of entering into
correspondence with the leading politicians of the party, and whenever
he saw in any man's replies evidence of depth, capacity or earnestness,
he at once entered into friendly and unreserved communication, exhorting
him in language full of passionate entreaty. In these, his early
efforts, John Dillon shared his labours, his ambition and his heart.
[Illustration: Truly yours, Thomas Davis.]
About this time Mr. Stanton, proprietor of the _Morning Register_,
committed to the two young graduates the writing of his journal. His
preference was not so much owing to their character as politicians as it
was to their pre-eminence in literary attainments. The press of Dublin
had then sunk to the lowest level. Newspaper literature had even fallen,
too. It was divided into three sections, each of which was the whining
slave of one or other of the great predominating factions of the
country. The _Register_ was generally regarded as ranking among the
mercenaries of the Castle. But no sooner did it fall into the hands of
the college friends than all Dublin was startled by the originality,
vigour and brilliancy of its articles. When the Whigs were about
retiring they determined on a gross and scandalous abuse of power for
the purpose of rewarding an unscrupulous partisan, even though it
involved an affront to one of their oldest and ablest friends, the then
Irish Chancellor. That man was Lord Plunket, who had served the Whigs so
faithfully, honourably and fearlessly. He was commanded to retire in
order to make room for Sir John Campbell, who was thereby to be
qualified for the English peerage.
The stipendiaried journals of the Castle exhausted their adulation, and
had received their last reward for upholding the appointment. The Tory
press, hungry for the spoil which it maddened the others to lose, paid
back the compliments by intense vituperation. The slang of party warfare
was bandied in the usual fashion, without thought or a care beyond the
interest of party. The _Register_, to everybody's astonishment, took up
the one cause not represented, namely, that of the country. Davis
denounced the appointment as an insult to that country, and with a bold
hand vindicated the superiority of its Bar, without any reference to
party, above the adventurers whom each faction placed over it in turn.
Soon after he and his friend ceased to write for that paper; but not
until satisfied by the experiment that a journal devoted to Ireland,
guided by truth, and sustained with earnest ability, would supersede the
whole jaundiced literature of the metropolis, and create a new era in
the progress of the country's civilisation and ambition. They
immediately busied themselves to establish such an organ. Charles Gavan
Duffy, late editor of the _Belfast Vindicator_, entered into the spirit
of the enterprise, and after an evening's ramble in the Park, during
which the terms and the principles of the paper and the spirit in which
it should be conducted were canvassed, the publication of the _Nation_
was determined on. Mr. Duffy was convicted for having written a libel in
the _Vindicator_, and his friends earnestly advised him to compromise
the matter with a view of bringing more powerful energies to the same
task in a wider field.
The first number of the new journal appeared on the 12th of October,
1842. It had been announced under auspices calculated to ensure its
success, but its unexpected ability, the ground it broke in the national
policy, and the vast intellectual resources it developed eclipsed the
prestige under which it was deemed necessary to usher it into existence.
It was at once a proof of greater powers than the country had yet
witnessed, and a prophecy of a different fate from what she hoped for.
The aims, the logic, the very language of factious diplomacy were
eschewed. It seemed as if a light had streamed down from heaven, fresh
from God, to give the people hope, comfort and assurance. The genius of
Davis seized the opportunity as though he were His deputed messenger in
the great work of regeneration. For the first time men awoke to the
consciousness of what they were or might be. Harnessed to the triumphant
car of one gigantic intellect, they had forgotten the dignity of their
own nature, and were astonished to find how transcendant its resources
and sufficient its strength. The publication of the _Nation_ was really
an epoch which marked a wonderful change, and from that day forth
self-reliance and self-respect began to take the place of grateful but
stultified obedience and blind trust.
The change became more marked as the publication proceeded. In speech,
article, song and essay, the spell of Davis's extraordinary genius and
embracing love was felt. Historic memories, forgotten stories, fragments
of tradition, the cromlech on the mountain and the fossil in the bog
supplied him substance and spirit wherewith to mould and animate
nationality. Native art, valour, virtue and glory seemed to grow under
his pen. All that had a tendency to elevate and ennoble, he rescued from
the past to infuse into the future. His songs, so soft and tender, and
yet so redolent of manliness and hope, inspired the ambition to compose
a minstrelsy as wild and vigorous as themselves. They were read and
learned and sung with an avidity and pride heretofore unknown.
The monster meetings were long a design of Thomas Davis, John Dillon and
the present writer. One great object with them was to train the country
people to military movements and a martial tread. This object it would
be unsafe to announce, and it was to be effected through other agencies
than drill. The people should necessarily come to such rendezvous in
baronial, parochial or town processions, and under the guidance of local
leaders. Order is a law of nature; and, without much trouble on the part
of those leaders, it would establish itself. The present writer left
Dublin early in the spring of 1843 to carry this design into effect. Sir
Robert Peel, then Prime Minister of England, alluding to the fact in the
House of Commons, said that the first Monster Meeting was purposely
held on the anniversary of the very day, the 22nd of May, destined for
the rising of '98. Sir Robert was wrong in his inference, though it was
a natural and nearly justifiable one; for at that Cashel meeting were
offered unmistakable evidences of the tendency of the agitation. Upwards
of £1,100 were handed to Mr. O'Connell. Each parish came in procession,
headed by a band and commanded by some local leader; and those who took
part in the public procession marched in excellent order for upwards of
eight miles. A military and magisterial meeting had been previously held
in the barracks of Cashel to consider whether the people should not be
routed at the point of the bayonet. But though the committee were fully
aware of this consultation, they decided unanimously that the meeting
should go on. The meeting itself passed the strongest resolutions, and
adopted a petition to the Legislature, consisting of a single line,
something to this effect: "You have robbed us of our Parliament by fraud
and blood; pray restore it, or ----." And finally, Mr. O'Connell said at
the dinner that evening, alluding to an armed strife; "Give me Tipperary
for half a day." This simple wish, enunciated in accents familiar to
that great ruler of men, elicited a cheer, a shout, a wild burst of
enthusiasm, so long and loud as almost to suggest the idea that it would
be seconded by naked steel and a deadly blow. One would think it had a
significant meaning, and yet there was no wrathful ban. Not one
pronounced that terrible anathema against shedding a single drop of
blood, which afterwards became the canon of peaceful men. Nay, if memory
be not very treacherous, amidst that roar was loudly distinguishable
the voice of him who on an after day, yet to be spoken of, cursed from
God's altar those who wished to realise his simulated aspirations and in
the endeavour had forfeited their lives. A doggerel ballad had been
written for the occasion by Thomas Davis, to the air of the "Gallant
Tipperary," over which himself and his friends afterwards indulged in
many a hearty laugh. One verse runs as follows:--
The music's ready, the morning's bright,
Step together left, right, left, right,
We carry no gun,
Yet devil a one
But knows how to march in Tipperary O!
By twelves and sixteens on we go,
Rank'd four deep in close order O!
For order's the way
To carry the day,
March steadily, men of Tipperary O!
It is here introduced as a proof and a justification of what has been
stated in reference to one great object of the projectors of the monster
meetings. Possibly it will be said that this is an admission of the
truth of a charge frequently urged by Mr. O'Connell against the _Nation_
and its writers, namely, that they having intentions of which he knew
nothing, had committed him to breaches of the law, of which he was not
only not guilty but not cognisant, but which by a perversion of judgment
were given in proof against him at the celebrated State Trials. It is
quite true that they did entertain the intentions which he afterwards so
vehemently repudiated. But they never once concealed them. In the
Association, and where Mr. O'Connell was committed with them, they
abstained from giving them utterance; but they did so because they felt
bound to act in accordance with the resolution of that body. And with
respect to the proceedings of the Cashel meeting and the more wonderful
and significant meetings that followed, they always submitted to him and
had his entire sanction for every act done at and every line written for
these meetings. In fact, if he were in any way mistaken as to them, they
were still more grievously deceived as to him. All their acts and
speeches were in the direction of their intentions; all his acts and
speeches were in the same direction, and went further. In truth, they
believed that he fully concurred in the sentiments which they cared not
to conceal, but which he had the cunning or caution not to avow. One
justification of this belief has been already given; another and a more
pregnant one was the Mallow defiance which the greatest poet and the
greatest sculptor of our time and nation have immortalised. In reference
to proofs not published, however conclusive, this history shall be
silent.
Succeeding events shall be briefly glanced at only. Some of them have
already attained a place in history; and the scope of my narrative only
embraces the facts, incidents and tendencies which led to an armed
crisis and governed its explosion. Meeting followed meeting in rapid
succession, and each was marked by some signal manifestation of a
healthier, holier and more resolute national purpose. Numbers, calmness,
order, obedience, bespoke an advanced discipline, and prefigured future
victory. The crowds that attended the Halls of the Association no longer
consisted of idle brawlers; they were listening, thoughtful mechanics,
conscious of the toil and danger that lay before them, and braced for
the encounter. Dignitaries of the church and the ablest men among the
second order of the clergy appeared on the platform, and added sanctity
and dignity to the proceedings. Members of Corporations through the
country, and private gentlemen of rank brought to the imposing
confederacy the weight of their office, rank and name. The existing
Government in a splenetic attempt to crush it, had dismissed certain
magistrates for having their names enrolled on its books. This new
aggression gave a fresh impetus to its progress. Men who had previously
looked on it with doubt or fear, now embraced it as the only safeguard
for the remaining liberties of the island. The parliamentary committee
which had been instituted by Mr. O'Brien, had exhausted every source of
information within the reach of industry in developing the resources and
capacities of the country. The committee of the Association counted
within its members one hundred lawyers who preferred the fortunes of
Ireland to professional or political advancement. Many of these and
others who were not of the party brought to the popular tribune rare
endowments, the most generous passions, and the noblest eloquence.
Poetry, fresh, vigorous and full of heart, shed her harmonising and
ennobling influence upon the whole, and imparted to patriotism the last
pre-requisite of success. Amidst this grand movement stood Mr.
O'Connell, erect, alone, its centre and its heart. He was not its guide,
but its god, until he slept within a prison, and came forth less than
man.
During this period two events occurred deserving particular notice--the
only facts upon which Mr. O'Connell's supremacy was questioned, or his
advice audibly condemned. These were, first, his refusal of French
contributions and French sympathy, of which M. Ledru Rollin, since so
celebrated, was to be the bearer; and secondly, his acceptance of
contributions from America under protest, against the "infamous
institution" of slavery. He rejected the first with indignant scorn,
because it was the offering of "republicans," and spoke of the latter
with contempt, as "smelling of blood."
These two acts alienated from his cause the only foreigners in the world
who were willing to espouse it. His wisdom was questioned and condemned.
It was urged upon him that he should not intermeddle with foreign
institutions or with the political predilections of individuals. Enough
for Ireland, he was told, to find that Frenchmen and Americans were
ready to do battle in her cause, and it ill became her to spurn their
advances with indignity and a sneer. The argument failed, his hatred of
slavery and republicanism out-weighed all other considerations.
I have fixed upon the State Trials as an epoch in this history, marking
a distinct phase in the character of the Repeal Association. The
proceedings of that extraordinary inquest are familiar to most men. It
is not my intention to refer to them, except as a sort of pivot upon
which public sentiment veered. When they were commenced there was
untold wealth in the coffers of the Association. There was still a
greater store of public purpose in the country. Threats, hot and
violent, had been uttered. Pledges had been made which could only be
violated in shame and death. A challenge had been given from which it
would be baseness to shrink. The world looked on in wonder and awe. Each
successive act was more and more gigantic; each resolution bolder. When
the meeting at Clontarf was projected, the heart of the nation beat
quick and hotly. Yet no man was surprised; none condemned. The
associations of the spot suggested a perilous future. Still the hazards
it prefigured created no alarm; the directions of a sub-committee
respecting the military order of the processions towards the place of
meeting was but the expression of the public hope that lay at every
heart.
While the bustle of preparation was at its height; while the flushed
capital was dizzy with wild excitement, a proclamation appeared on the
walls--'twas nearly evening's dusk--forbidding the proposed
demonstration. For that proclamation there was no law; scarcely any
object. It could not render the meeting illegal. It would not entitle
the chief magistrate to disperse it; for if it were proved to be
constitutional, he would be answerable before the laws of his country.
It was simply a warning utterly inefficient for good or ill in any trial
that may follow. In this state of things, a responsibility of the
greatest magnitude devolved on the Association, or its committee. They
were hastily summoned or came together spontaneously. Alarm, surprise,
disappointment, chagrin, swayed their hurried consultation. The
decision was weak, and it was fatal. It was only carried by a small
majority, but in that majority was the great spirit of the confederacy.
Never after did he stand on equal terms with his adversary. He was
driven before him amidst broken hopes, and broken promises--his
challenge, a boast unfulfilled, his prestige withered.
What the issue might have been if the decision were different, it would
be rash to conjecture. It might have been carnage; it might have been a
triumph. The historian has nothing to do with conjecture. But in this
case was involved a mighty question, palpable, self-created and
conclusive. The wisest forethought may fail to arrive at a sound
conclusion as to the result of holding the meeting. The risk existed, no
doubt, that some ill-disposed or hired villains, or even rash
enthusiasts may provoke the troops, and thus afford a pretext for
carnage. But opposed to that were the dictates of prudence, honour and
fear on the part of those in command of the army; and it seemed a more
probable result that either the meeting would be allowed to proceed, or
it would be illegally dispersed in the usual way by reading the Riot
Act. Even if the weight of conjecture were the other way, the
consequences should be risked rather than falsify the national pledge.
To recede was cowardice; not the vulgar cowardice arising from personal
weakness, but the moral cowardice which shrinks from an imperious
obligation, because it is perilous. The meeting should be held; every
possible precaution should be taken to prevent an armed conflict. If
Power, drunk with its own advantage, risked an outrage, the people
should be taught to yield; but only to yield with the purpose of
entering a court of law, as prosecutors and avengers. Even if worse
consequences ensued after every effort to prevent them had been
exhausted, the issue should be left to God. Recriminations, painfully
petty in their nature, followed. The Government were charged with a
premeditated design to commit wide and indiscriminate slaughter, and the
weakness, in which were shrouded deep national shame and guilt, was made
matter of indecent boast. The Government, aware of the unexpected
advantage, followed up the blow. Mr. O'Connell took shelter in the
sacredness of the Hall, which, he imagined, he had guarded against the
encroachments of arbitrary power, and thither they followed him. Having
abandoned a position where he could act on the offensive, he was forced
to contend against the aggressive attacks of Government flushed with its
first success.
The trial that followed already occupies a large space in history. Its
effects were immediate and disastrous. The personnel of the accused
assumed the nation's place. Exhortations full of intense eloquence were
addressed to the people from which the question of the country's
deliverance was entirely excluded. Technicalities of law absorbed the
attention which was due to Liberty. A demurrer, a motion in abatement,
or in arrest of judgment, was canvassed with a deeper interest by the
people of the provinces than by even the distinguished Bar, which were
arrayed on either side. Mr. O'Connell's infallibility in law engaged the
anxious solicitude, the pride, the passions of Ireland. Yet throughout
that long trial the question which would test it was not mooted. The
indictment was a subtle net-work, which excluded such argument. The
objections to the indictment also were objections of form merely, and
the final issue upon which the judgment was reversed was not even
remotely connected with the main enquiry, whether or not the charge of
conspiracy was sustainable in point of constitutional law. During the
progress of the trial, a fraud, a swindle, a petty theft, was
perpetrated by the officers of government, which more than one man, high
in office, had a hand in suborning. This fact had supreme influence on
the decision of the House of Lords. But the plain truth is, the judgment
was reversed as an essential move in a great party game.
Ireland triumphed. Her triumph was a just and a great one.
But her exultation was on a fallacious basis. She believed Mr.
O'Connell's infallibility was re-established. No one cared, or perhaps
dared to correct the error. In itself it seemed little worthy of notice,
yet it had its share of evil influence. First, it diverted men's minds
from the one question; secondly, it left behind it the demoralising
effect inseparable from untruth. Were it even what the public eagerness
chose to shape it, its relative value, weighed against the triumph of
courage and virtue, would be contemptible.
Mr. O'Connell himself did not seem to share in the nation's pride. His
spirit was broken. He anticipated the glad wishes of the metropolis, and
walked home from the penitentiary clouded and gloomy. It was evident
something within him had died. However, he went back the next day, and
left the prison the second time in the midst of public rejoicings never
surpassed on any occasion in his life. His addresses on that day, and
subsequently while in town, were not such as they were wont to be; and
he soon retired to his wild mountain home to invigorate a mind and body,
borne down by gigantic labours, fearful responsibilities, some alarms,
and perhaps a chilling sense of defeat and weakness. His health was soon
restored, but his political vigour never. The first time his voice was
heard from that retreat, it was to recommend a compromise; and, for the
first time, his advice was openly opposed. Charles Duffy answered his
letter, which recommended to fall back on Federalism--a question in the
mouths of many, but in the brain of none--respectfully and firmly
remonstrating against such a course. In a great many circles, Mr. Duffy
could not be looked at with more wonder if he had recommended to cut off
Mr. O'Connell's head.
Hitherto, this condensed retrospect has been almost exclusively confined
to the name and fortunes of O'Connell. It is time now to revert to other
actors in the scene. Even before the trial, elements of antagonism had
begun to manifest themselves. With the party since called "Young
Ireland," every consideration was subordinate to the great question of
national deliverance. They laboured incessantly to elevate the morals,
the literature, the taste, passions, genius, intellect and heart of the
country to the sublime eminence of a free destiny. Far the foremost man
in urging and encouraging this glorious endeavour was Thomas Davis. From
sources the most extraordinary, and the least known, there welled forth
abundant and seductive inspiration. He struck living fire from inert
wayside stones. To him the meanest rill, the rugged mountain, the barren
waste, the rudest fragment of barbaric history, spoke the language of
elevation, harmony and hope. The circle, of which he was the beloved
centre, was composed of men equally sincere, resolute and hopeful; there
was not one of them undistinguished. Some of them had now the first
literary distinction. The character of each was remarkable for some
distinctive and bold feature of originality. I, of course, exclude
myself from this description. I know not to what circumstance I owe the
happiness of their trust and friendship. My habits, my education, my
former political connections, disqualified me for such association.
Since first I took my place among them, seven or eight years have now
rolled by. They have been years of severest trial, years of suffering
and sorrow, years of passion and prejudice and calumny, years of rude
and bitter conflict, years of suspicion and acrimony, and finally of
defeat and shame; still, in that eventful course of time, to me at
least, there has occurred no moment wherein I would exchange the
faintest memory of our mutual trust, unreserved enjoyment and glad hope
for the hoarse approval of an unthinking world. There was no subject we
did not discuss together; revolution, literature, religion, history, the
arts, the sciences--every topic, and never yet was there spoken among us
one reproachful word, never felt one distrustful sentiment. Our
confidence in one another was precisely that of each in himself; our
love of one another deeper than brotherly. When we met, which was at
least weekly, and felt alone, shut in from the rude intrusion of the
world, how we used to people the future with beauty and happiness and
love. Little did we dream that those for whom we toiled, and thought,
and wove such visions of glory, would shun and scorn, and curse us. But
had that bitter cup, which afterwards we were forced to empty to the
dregs, been then presented to us, there was not one of us who would not
have drunk it to the last drop; drunk it willingly and cheerfully,
without further hope or purpose than our own deep conviction that we
owed the sacrifice to truth.
Those who took immediate part in the proceedings of our circle before
the State Trials, were Thomas Davis, John Dillon, Thomas MacNevin,
Michael Joseph Barry, Charles Duffy, David Cangley, John O'Hagan, Denis
F. MacCarthy, Denny Lane, Richard Dalton Williams, with one or two
others whose names I cannot mention. To this list was afterwards added
Thomas Francis Meagher, Richard O'Gorman, John Mitchel, Thomas Devin
Reilly, and Thomas Darcy M'Gee. I do not include several distinguished
men who lived in the provinces with whom we communicated, and from whom
we received sympathy and sustainment; and I omit others who took a
leading part, in deference to the position they are now placed in.
[Illustration: John Blake Dillon]
With the first section above named, originated the idea of publishing
the _Library of Ireland_. It was proposed, discussed, and determined on
one evening, at the house of Thomas MacNevin, while some one sat at the
piano, playing the lovely Irish airs, of which the soft strains of Davis
suggested the conception to William Elliot Hudson. The music was as
true to the Celtic genius as the lays of Davis to its character and
hopes; and amidst the entrancing seductiveness of their association, was
born the generous resolution of rescuing the country's literature from
the darkness in which it had long lain. The _Library of Ireland_ was
proposed as a beginning, and so diffident did its promoters feel, that
they deemed it indispensable to engage the recognised genius of William
Carleton, whose name and abilities they pledged to the public, as an
assurance for the undertaking. Mr. Carleton promptly undertook his share
of the task, and James Duffy, the enterprising bookseller, assumed all
the risk and responsibility of the enterprise.
John Mitchel, then known to few, and appreciated only by Thomas Davis,
was by him associated with those who were willing to engage in the new
and difficult labour. He pledged himself for him, and selected his
subject. Most nobly was that pledge redeemed; but its fulfilment dawned
on the fresh grave of him who made it. Other men, and first in order, as
well as eminent in ability, was Thomas MacNevin, who has also sunk into
a too early grave, more than realised the most sanguine hopes of an
exulting country. Death first interrupted this new current of life, even
in its day of most sparkling promise. Disunion haunted the petty
jealousies of little and narrow minds; famine, pestilence and defeat
have done the rest. The labourers are dead, exiled, immured in dungeons,
or scattered over the face of the earth as fugitives; and how far they
had capacity to fulfil their inspiring promise, can never be tested
more. A few, however, remained, and amid greater gloom, and nearer to
utter death, they stand out redeeming beacons to the future.
I have not mentioned the name of Mr. O'Brien, as associated with us at
this early stage. He joined the Association in a time of great
excitement. The _Nation_ hailed the accession with the fondest joy. The
consistency of his politics, the purity of his intentions, and the
unvarying rectitude of his life gave abundant assurance, not alone that
he was deeply sincere, but that his purpose could only be changed by
death. But to those who looked beyond the expediency of the hour, those
who had cherished fervently the passionate aspirations for true liberty
his name and character became an augury of success: nor would they
intrude for any consideration on the attitude of lofty dignity he
assumed.
It has already been stated that elements of antagonism between Mr.
O'Connell and the Young Ireland Party had at this time (the period of
the State Trials) manifested themselves. It will be remembered that this
period embraced a space of nine months, from the date of Mr. O'Connell's
being held to bail in September, 1843, to that of his sentence the 30th
of May, 1844. As the events of this or the previous year do not,
properly speaking, range within the historical scope of my narrative, I
have excluded chronological and historical order. My object has been to
group together the great features of the confederacy without other
reference than that of pointing out their moral influence, operating
through a long space of time. Thus I have referred to the Parliamentary
Committee instituted by Mr. O'Brien among incidents which belong to an
anterior period, because the vigour of these incidents, which left
moral seeds in their track, continued to co-exist and blend with the
powerful agencies of that Committee. As I now approach the period when
the differences with Mr. O'Connell, which hitherto developed themselves
in the distinctive characteristics of the respective opinions of both
parties rather than in any direct collision, became tangible, it is
necessary to observe strict historical and chronological accuracy.
Before proceeding to details of succeeding events, a brief
recapitulation of important facts, with the dates of their occurrences,
become necessary. A few others, not heretofore alluded to, must needs be
added.
The date of the imprisonment is the 30th of May, 1844: that of the
release the 6th of September in the same year.
In the intermediate period the amount received in the Repeal treasury
during four weeks was, £12,379 14s. 9d.
About the close of August was passed the Charitable Bequest Act, against
the indignant remonstrances of the priesthood and Catholic population of
Ireland. This Bill was obnoxious in all it's provisions, but the
enactment which was received with most scorn was the clause that
annulled a Catholic charitable bequest, unless it had been duly made six
months at least before the decease of the testator. The prohibition was
attributed to an insulting assumption that the Catholic clergymen abused
their influence over dying penitents, for sacerdotal or religious, if
not for personal aggrandisement, and the impeachment was repelled with
bitter execrations. Others objected to the Bill on grounds involving
more alarming considerations. They regarded it as the first infringement
on the liberty of the Catholic Church--the first criminal attempt to
fetter her free action and sow dissent among her prelates and priests.
The Repeal Association offered, from the beginning, its undivided,
unqualified and indeed vehement opposition. But amidst the storm and
rage of the nation, it became the law, and three Roman Catholic prelates
of the highest reputation undertook the duty of its administration.
One party there was who regretted the Bill still more deeply, but in a
different point of view. At the head of these was Thomas Davis. He
regarded it as an instrument of dissension and weakness, cunningly
adapted to that end by Sir Robert Peel, and he deplored the diversion of
the public mind and energy from the grand national object. Mr. O'Brien,
to a certain extent, shared this feeling, but never obtruded the opinion
or ventured to check the Association, while Mr. Davis confined his
efforts to passionate warnings addressed through the columns of the
_Nation_.
This question is introduced here because it was important and fatal in
its consequences. A still more important one taken in the same light
must interrupt its discussion for a moment: Mr. O'Connell's Federal
letter, already referred to. The leading sentiments of that letter are
subjoined. It is dated the 2nd of October, 1844.
After stating what Simple Repeal and what Federalism respectively meant,
he proceeded to contrast their value.
"The Simple Repealers are of the opinion that the reconstructed Irish
Parliament should have precisely the same power and authority which the
former Irish Parliament had.
"The Federalists, on the contrary, appear to me to require more for the
people of Ireland than the Simple Repealers do; for besides the local
parliament in Ireland having full and perfect authority, the Federalists
require that there should be, for questions of imperial concern,
colonial, naval and military, and of foreign alliance and policy, a
Congressional or Federal Parliament, in which Ireland should have her
fair share and proportion of representatives and power.
"It is but just and right to confess that in this respect the
Federalists would give Ireland more weight and importance in imperial
concerns than she could acquire by means of the plan of Simple
Repealers.
* * * * *
"For my own part, I will own that since I have come to contemplate the
specific differences such as they are, between Simple Repeal and
Federalism, I do at present feel a preference for the Federative plan,
as tending more to the utility of Ireland and the maintenance of the
connection with England than the plan of Simple Repeal.
* * * * *
"The Federalists cannot but perceive that there has been upon my part a
pause in the agitation for Repeal since the period of our release from
unjust imprisonment."
I have only extracted from Mr. O'Connell's most elaborate letter, his
distinctly expressed preference for Federalism, and the single reason
upon which the preference is founded. The remainder consists for the
most part of a sort of logical equation, balancing the component
elements of both plans, from which is deduced the above conclusion.
Charles Duffy's answer, dated October the 18th, was triumphant and
conclusive, at least in Mr. O'Connell's own mind, for he did not
afterwards repeat the same sentiments. But a blow had been given the
Association from which it never recovered. The newspaper press, taken
under three distinct heads, first the blind and heedless echoers of Mr.
O'Connell's doctrines, secondly the Whig organs in Ireland, and thirdly
the papers in the English interest, gave way to unrestrained exultation.
The wisdom, the prudence, the holiness of the "great Liberator," were
extolled as unmatched in the annals of statesmanship. A few whose
self-interest constrained their subserviency, shrugged wisely and said
nothing, while several provincial journals stoutly maintained the
undoubted and enduring supremacy of the great national aim over every
weak expedient.
Whatever hopes may be entertained by Mr. O'Connell, his suggestions met
with no sustainment and no response, save the empty echoes of an
adulating press. Among the great party to whom he appealed, not one
voice was heard to suggest a practical step in the direction intimated.
The project fell, if indeed it were ever seriously entertained, leaving
no memory and no regret. The first place Mr. O'Connell afterwards
appeared in a public capacity, was at the Limerick banquet, given on'
the 20th of November. His speech on that occasion contained scarcely a
reference to Federalism, and both his sentiments and those of the other
speakers, including John, Archbishop of Tuam, as well as the Toasts and
Mottoes, were distinguished for loftiness of tone, unflinching purpose
and highest enthusiasm. But other elements were at work furtively
sapping that purpose and dimming that enthusiasm.
Prominent among these was the spirit of religious dissension already
under discussion, to which it is now time to recur.
At and after the period when the Roman Catholic prelates accepted the
functions of administering a law insulting and obnoxious to the
Catholics generally, much angry controversy prevailed. A report was rife
that the Government not alone succeeded in deluding the Irish Bishops,
but had accredited a minister plenipotentiary, whose mission was to
conciliate the Court of Rome to a "Concordat" with England. A rescript
said to be received by the Most Reverend Doctor Crolly, the Primate, was
adduced to prove not alone the existence of the intrigue, but its
partial success. The rescript contained an admonition to restrain the
intemperate violence of political priests, and an advice to confine
themselves more generally to the sacred functions of their holy office.
The English press magnified the advice into a command, and exulted over
the failure of the Repeal movement whose extinction they augured from
the withdrawal of the Catholic priesthood.
Mr. O'Connell, alarmed at the import of a command so fatal, pronounced
the rescript "uncanonical." This led to greater dissensions and bitterer
recriminations. The prelates who condemned the Bequest Act, denounced
those who accepted the task of administering it. One of the body thus
writes:--
"The resolution [referring to one passed at a meeting of the
prelates, which was pronounced by the ministerial press a vote
of unanimous approval of the bishops' acceptance of the office
of Commissioners] did not meet the approval of all the Bishops,
neither could it convey to any one of the Episcopal
Commissioners the most distant notion that in accepting the
office he did not oppose the views and wishes of many of his
Episcopal brethren. When the resolution was moved, there were
six of the protesting Bishops absent, and a moment was not
allowed to pass after it was seconded, when it was denounced in
the strongest manner by two of the Bishops present. They
solemnly declared before the assembled prelates that, in the
event of any prelate accepting the odious office, they would
never willingly hold any communication with him in his capacity
as Commissioner."[4]
But, while disunion reigned at the council board of the Catholic
Hierarchy, the Government plied their task of seducing, dividing and
misrepresenting bishops, priests, people and nation. Out of all the
elements of disunion, distraction and disaster over which they in turn
gloated, the British newspapers, with wonderful accord, predicted and
boasted of the complete overthrow of the Repeal Party. It was amidst
these circumstances of gloom and evil augury the year 1844, a year
within which range the most startling, extraordinary and trying events
of Ireland's recent history, came to a close.
Before I conclude this chapter, I must revert to a fact which, although
unimportant in relation to the view of the question under consideration,
deserves to be remembered in connection with future events. The date I
cannot fix, as it was confined to the private circle of the Association
Committee, and no record of it remains. Immediately after the close of
the State trials, as well as I can remember, Mr. O'Connell proposed the
dissolution of the Association, with a view of establishing a new body,
from which should be excluded all the "illegal" attributes and accidents
of the old. The suggestion was resisted by Mr. O'Brien, and all those
understood to belong to what was called the Young Ireland Party. They
protested against such a course as false, craven and fatal, and Mr.
O'Connell at once yielded to their vehement remonstrances.
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 4: Doctor Cantwell to Mr. O'Connell. Given in the _Nation_,
Vol. III., No. 119.]