DA
^ s
CORNELL
UNIVERSITY
LIBRARY
BOUGHT WITH THE INCOME
OF THE SAGE ENDOWMENT
FUND GIVEN IN 1891 BY
HENRY WILLIAMS SAGE
Cornell University Library
DA 950.23.M48A3
Meat
her of the sword
3 1924 028 141 665
Date Due
MAR 2 r
■iQCl,, r^ ni
"5^T^^ Jp
-J 11
(fc^
23 233
The original of this book is in
the Cornell University Library.
There are no known copyright restrictions in
the United States on the use of the text.
http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924028141665
Thomas Francis Meagher
(1846)
MEAGHER OF THE
SWORD
Speecbes of Xtbomas ffrancis /IDeaflber in Jrelanb
1840«1848
His Narrative of Events in Jrelattd in July, 1848,
Personal Reminiscences of Waterford, Galway,
and his Schooldays
EDITED BY
ARTHUR GRIFFITH
WITH A PREFACE, APPENDICES, INDEX AND
ILLUSTRATIONS
2>ul)liti
M. H. GILL & SON, LTD.
50 UPPSR O'CONNELL STREET
1916
u
PRINTICD AND BOUND
BY
M. H. GILL & SON, LTD.
DUBLIN
3
PREFACE
THE Penal Laws enacted against the Catholics
of Ireland in violation of the Treaty of
Limerick had some results unforeseen by
the English dominion. One was the growth of
a wealthy and spirited mercantile class among
the members of the penalised religion. Debarred
from the liberal professions and emplo5mients, and
from all part in the conduct of public affairs,
industrious and enterprising Catholic townsmen
who would neither recant their faith nor forsake
their country turned naturally to trade and com-
merce, and built up a mercantile interest whose
spokesmen held a manlier language to the English
Oppression of their country and their religion than
it had been wont to hear from the spiritless Catholic
aristocrats who begged for the right to worship
according to their faith as for a favour. This
manly class sprang from dire oppression. The
destruction of Irish legislative independence and
the opening of the English Parliament and patron-
age to the ambition of Irish Catholics undermined
its strong but not established structure. After
the passage of the Emancipation Act, a perverted
and denationalised social pride in wealthy Catholic
circles destined the son to quit the counting-house
of his father and assert Catholic equality in the
iv MEAGHER OF THE SWORD
Four Courts or the English senate. It was held
a Catholic triumph when a Catholic mounted the
Bench whence he was to sentence to transportation
and to death men who essayed to recover the
plundered liberties of their country, and True
Equality was read in the gazetting of a Catholic
Irishman to a commission in an army intended
to despoil some hapless people of its lands or its
treasures. So the Catholic office-holder and the
Catholic office-seeker multiplied, but the Catholic
merchant, sturdy and opulent, dwindled and
passed away, till a legend grew that modern com-
merce and industry in Ireland had been the ad-
mirable creation and permanent possession of
Englishmen and the sons of Englishmen.
Richard O'Gorman, of Dublin, and Thomas
Meagher, of Waterford, were two of the last of the
great class of Catholic merchants of which Sweet-
man, Keogh and Byrne were the old types.
Thomas Meagher, whose ships carried freights
between Waterford and America, married the
daughter of another Waterford merchant — Quan —
and Thomas Francis Meagher, their eldest son,
was born in that city on the 3rd of August, 1823.
Regarding Trinity College as anti-Irish and anti-
Catholic, his father sent him to Clongowes and
Stonyhurst for his education. In the first in-
stitution he was bred in ignorance of his country
and all that related to it — ^in the second his pre-
ceptors, with some success, laboured to overcome
what was termed his " horrible Irish brogue," and
succeeded in sending him back to his own country
PREFACE V
with an Anglo-Irish accent which grated on the
ears of his countrymen when he addressed them
from the tribune, until the eloquence and native
fire of the orator swept the gift of the English school
from their jarred consciousness. Meagher returned
to Ireland in 1843 with vague plans for a soldier's
career in the Austrian army, to which the traditions
of the Bradies, Taaffes, Nugents and other Irish
families united Irish sympathy ; but he discovered
his country, whose history had been debarred
in his education, and whose very accent had been
pronounced vulgar to him, swaying in a new passion
of national vigour. The Nation had relit fires
of patriotic pride in the people and O'Connell,
stimulated by Davis, was sweeping the country
with the slogan of " Repeal." Meagher found
himself when he found his country. He became
the centre around which the young Nationalists of
Waterford rallied, and his youthful eloquence sent
his fame abroad. This eloquence and enthusiasm
carried away O'Connell on his first meeting with
Meagher and caused him to exclaim, " Bravo,
Young Ireland ! " Afterwards O'Connell was to
seek to use " Young Ireland " as an epithet of
opprobrium.
In 1844 Meagher came to Dublin with the in-
tention of studying for the Bar. There he met the
writers of the Nation and became, like each of them,
one of the workers in the Repeal movement, in
which the real labour of the committees was mainly
discharged by Davis and his comrades. His
eloquence at the public meetings in Conciliation
vj MEAGHER OF THE SWORD
Hall quickly made him celebrated in the capital,
and any announcement that Meagher would speak
crowded the Hall; for his was an eloquence that
before was not heard within its walls, where there
was no lack of trained and accomplished speakers.
Passion and poetry transfigured his words, and he
evoked for the first time in many breasts a manly
consciousness of national right and dignity. As
handsome and chivalrous as he was eloquent, he
became something of a popular idol and as eagerly
sought after in the social circles of Dublin as his
colleague, John Pigot. But he disliked Dublin
society for, as he wrote afterwards, " its pre-
tentious aping of English taste, ideas and fashions,
for its utter want of all true nobility, all sound
love of country, and all generous or elevated senti-
ment."
In June, 1846, the English Tory Ministry of
Sir Robert Peel fell, and the Liberals under Lord
John Russell returned to power. O'Connell simul-
taneously attempted to swing the Repeal movement
into support of English Liberalism. The agitation
which had been carried on for four years was to
be damped down in return for a profuse dis-
tribution of patronage through Conciliation Hall,
and a promise of remedial measures. Aware of
the intrigue, Meagher and the other Young Ire-
landers vehemently denounced from the platform
of Conciliation Hall any discrimination in the
attitude of the Repeal movement towards English
Whig or Tory, so long as Repeal was denied. The
people approved, and the " Tail," — as the corrupt
PREFACE vii
gang of politicians who fawned on O'Connell and
hoped for English Government places, was nick-
named — decided that the Young Irelanders must be
driven out of Conciliation Hall and represented
to the country as Factionists, Revolutionaries,
and Infidels. For this purpose resolutions were
introduced to which no honest and intelligent
man could subscribe and retain his self-respect —
resolutions which declared that under no circum-
stances was a nation justified in asserting its
liberties by force of arms. It was in opposition
to these resolutions Meagher delivered the speech
that caused him to be afterwards known as
Meagher of the Sword. He had carried the
audience, at first semi-hostile, towards his side,
and the plot against the Young Irelanders was in
peril of defeat when O'Connell's son, observing the
danger, intervened to declare that either he or
Meagher must leave the hall, and thus compelled
the secession of the men who had made the Repeal
movement a reality.
As the Young Irelanders refused to accept
defeat, their opposition to the resolution which
assured England that no physical resistance would
ever be offered to any measure she took against
Ireland or the Irish was represented by the
O'Connellite orators and journalists as an attempt
to turn the Repeal Association into a revolutionary
movement. The leaders of Young Ireland were
denounced as infidels secretly conspiring to sub-
vert religion, and as traitors in receipt of " French "
and " Castle "- gold— devices familiar since the
viii MEAGHER OF THE SWORD
days of the Volunteers in English-controlled Irish
politics, and not yet outworn. O'Connell made a
special effort to detach Meagher from Young
Ireland, for he realised the power of Meagher's
eloquence and he was personally attached to the
generous and gallant young Irishman. But
although Meagher was careless and even weak of
will in many matters, he was adamant on questions
of national principle.
The Conciliation Hall machine failed to ruin the
Nation newspaper and erase its writers. A sturdy
minority of the people stood firmly by Young
Ireland, and when the hurricane of calumny had
exhausted itself, and men returned to reflection, a
steady stream of recruits flowed towards the
maligned Irishmen. The Irish Confederation was
founded to receive them, and rally the country
against the barter of the National movement to
the English Liberal Government. In 1847 a
vacancy occurred in the representation of Galway
in the English Parliament, and the Confederation
decided to send Mitchel, Meagher, and other of its
leaders to oppose the Government nominee, Mona-
han. Conciliation Hall was obliged to affect a
virtue which it had decried and follow the example
of the Young Irelanders. Monahan was returned
by a few votes, to afterwards pack Mitchel's jury
and become a judge of what is termed the High
Court of Justice in Ireland ; but the battle so well
begun against the English nominee and the Irish
placehunter reacted on the other constituencies,
and the Alliance between the O'Connellites and
Thomas Francis Meagher
(From Professor Gluckmanii's daguerreotype)
PREFACE ■ i^.
the English Liberals was in danger of destruction,
when the death of Daniel O'Connell plunged the
island in grief. The Whigs and corruptionists who
controlled Conciliation Hall turned the event to
their profit by inventing the story that the Young
Irelanders were responsible for O'Connell's death,
and fanatical mobs attacked some of the Young
Ireland leaders. Physical menace failed, equally
with moral intimidation, to deflect the chiefs of the
Irish Confederation from their campaign against
English Whiggery in Irish National politics, but
another event led to divided counsels in the Young
Ireland ranks.
This event was the Blight that fell upon the
potato crop in Western Europe in the autumn of
1845, and continued to destroy the crop to a lesser
or a greater extent for five years. Wurtemburg
and other Continental states seriously affected,
closed their gates to the export of corn until it
was ascertained that the destruction of the potato
would not involve famine or hunger to their people.
In Ireland, apart from the potato crop, corn and
cattle were raised annually on the soil sufficient to
provide for a population of some sixteen millions
of people. The population of Ireland at the time
was under eight and one-half millions. The Young
Irelanders demanded that, as in the case of
Wurtemburg, the ports should be closed to the
export of corn until the people of the country
had been succoured. The demand was ignored.
A series of Acts was passed, under the guise of
relief measures, which accentuated the Famine it
8 MEAGHER OF THE SWORD
was ostensibly designed to alleviate. The fanner
who accepted relief was obliged to surrender his
lands and himself become a pauper. Hundreds of
petty Government offices were created where
Famine functionaries waxed fat while the people
perished. The corn and cattle of Ireland were
annually drafted away to cheaply feed the people
of England, and while the sustenance of twelve
minions of people was borne out of the Irish
harbours, ships laden with food from abroad to
succour the producers sailed into these harbours
to be discharged under the supervision of the
English Government and in some cases to have
their charitable cargoes stored to rot, lest the
purpose of the benevolent foreigners might be
fulfilled and the Irish population be maintained at
its dangerous ratio to the population of England.
A Mansion House Committee, composed of all
political sections, was formed with Lord Cloncurry
as its chairman, which pointed out that the pro-
hibition of the export of the oat crop alone would
keep in the country sufficient food to provide for
aU. The Committee was ignored, but an English
Liberal Government sent over the chef of its Reform
Club — M. Soyer — to show the starving Irish how
to live on a soup containing three ounces of solid
food to one quart of water. M. Soyer boiled his
soup on a public platform erected above the pit
at Arbour Hill in Dublin wherein the bodies of '98
insurgents were rudely buried by their executioners,
and he distributed his elixir of Irish life from
chained ladles to those who supplicated, while an
PREFACE xi
English military band discoursed music and the
Union Jack waved triumphant above the scene.
The Viceregal Court graced the opening of the
Government soup-ladles with its presence, and
the English newspapers published leading articles
for transmission abroad on the general topic of
English benevolence and Irish ingratitude, with
particular reference to the strenuous exertions
England was making to preserve the Irish from the
evils of a famine for which Irish improvidence
and Celtic laziness were responsible.
At the end of 1847 a Coercion Act, under which
it was made felony at the pleasure of the Lord
Lieutenant for an Irishman in Ireland to be out-
side his own house between dusk and morning,
was passed through the English Parliament. Mitchel
abandoning faith in the Confederation policy of a
union of classes — which he held in the circumstances
unfeasible, since the landlord class had encouraged
the passing of the new Coercion Act — proposed a
pohcy of passive resistance, culminating in armed
insurrection and potential revolution. His policy
was rejected after debate by 317 votes to 188.
The majority of the Young Ireland leaders spoke
against the proposal and the speech of Meagher
powerfully influenced the vote. Mitchel with-
drew from the Confederation and established
the United Irishman, in which he preached his
policy week by week. Meagher, adhering to the
Confederation, went to Waterford to contest the
Parliamentary representation of the .city as an
opponent of all English parties and Governments
xii MEAGHER OF THE SWORD
in Ireland. The vacancy was caused by the ap-
pointment of O'Connell's son, Daniel, to a Govern-
ment post, and the O'Connellites nominated as his
successor a Kilkenny solicitor named Costello,
notorious as a placebeggar. Mitchel, with grim
humour, wrote that he was " for Costello," for
" Mr. Meagher's return to the British Parliament
would do that Parliament too much honour and
bring it too much credit. We cannot bear to think
of our strongest and most trusted men being, one
after another, sent to flatter the pride of our enemies
— shorn Samsons making sport for the Philistines
or toiling ' at the mill as slaves ' — tongues of fire
sent down by Providence to kindle a soul within
our people employed in pyrotechnic performances
for the pleasure of the foreign tyrant. Think of
Shell ! In short we desire to bring that Parliament
into contempt in Ireland and to put an end to the
'jnoral force ' system by the process known as
redudio ad absurdam. And we have but little
fear on the present occasion ; we have confidence
in Alderman Delahunty and the organised corrup-
tion of Waterford."
Meagher was defeated, and so was Costello, Sir
Henry Winston Barron being elected. The French
Revolution next startled Ireland and in the wave
of enthusiasm for the overthrow of the European
despotism erected by the Treaty of Vienna, Mitchel's
policy was acclaimed by most of those in the Con-
federation who had been its opponents. Meagher,
O'Brien and Hollywood were despatched to Paris
to congratulate the French nation in the name of
PREFACE xiii
Ireland. Lamartine received them courteously but
coldly. He had been threatened by the British
Government with the possible breaking-off of
diplomatic relations if he offered encouragement
to Ireland and he was, of all the French statesmen
of the time, the most susceptible to English
pressure. Ledru-RoUin, Cavaignac and Louis
Napoleon were not uns3anpathetic. After the
return of the deputation to Dublin, Meagher was
prosecuted for sedition, but owing to an over-
sight, by which the prosecution permitted one
independent citizen to be sworn on the jury, the
Government failed to secure a conviction. An
attack was shortly afterwards essayed on Meagher,
Mitchel and O'Brien while they were attending a
banquet in Limerick, the life of Mitchel being par-
ticularly aimed at, but the objective was missed.
At the end of May, Mitchel was arraigned for the
new crime of Treason-Felony, invented to meet
his case, and condemned to penal transportation
for fourteen years. The Dublin Confederates de-
sired to rise in arms, barricade the streets, and
attempt a rescue. They were persuaded by the
other Young Ireland leaders, including Meagher,
not to do so. The reasons advanced were strong
and they were sincerely put forward by men of
undoubted personal courage on whose shoulders
responsibility for the movement rested. In the
light of after years Meagher acknowledged the
advice he gave had not been justified.
Six weeks after the transportation of Mitchel,
Meagher was arrested at his father's house in
xiv MEAGHER OF THE SWORD
Waterford on a second charge of sedition, and
brought to Dublin by a troop of cavalry and three
companies of infantry. The people of Waterford
rose in the streets and barricaded the bridge with
the intention of rescuing him from his captors, but
he peremptorily forbade them to do so and obliged
them to remove the barricades. He was released
from custody in Dublin on giving recognisances to
appear at the assizes in Limerick, in which county
the sedition was charged. On the following Sun-
day, with Doheny, he addressed a great hosting
on Slievenamon, after which he returned to Water-
ford, whence he came to Dublin again, as he relates
in the Personal Narrative published in the present
volume, and embarked on his insurgent career. A
proposal of Joseph Brenan's involving the beginning
of the insurrection in Dublin was rejected and the
final scenes took place in Tipperary.
The insurgent leaders made a fatal error when
they retreated from Carrick-on-Suir and fell back
on rural districts where there were neither organisa-
tion, armament, nor knowledge of their identity
among the people. The last hope was quenched
by O'Brien's refusal at the Council of War held in
Ballingarry on the 28th of July to permit the
necessary supplies for his followers to be comman-
deered and to offer farms rent-free, in the event of
victory to all who joined the insurgent standard.
Meagher, M'Manus, O'Donoghue, Dillon, O'Mahony,
Doheny, Stephens, James Cantwell,^ Devin Reilly,
* A Dublin Confederate leader and hotel proprietor. He
died in 1875.
PREFACE XV
Cavanagh.i Wright,* Cunningham* and Leyne,*
took part in the council, and on its conclusion
Meagher, Doheny, Leyne, Stephens, and some
others, left to attempt to rally and organise forces
at Slievenamon and in the Comeraghs with which
to threaten the garrison of Clonmel. The affair
at Ballingarry, however, the next day disarranged
their plans and after a fortnight's wanderings in
Tipperary, Meagher, Leyne and O'Donoghue were
arrested at Rathgannon, near Thurles, and brought
to Dublin where they were confined in Kilmain-
ham Jail with O'Brien and, subsequently, with
M'Manus, until the opening, in October, of a special
Commission at Clonmel, presided over by Chief
Justices Blackburne and Doherty. Four well-
packed juries convicted O'Brien, M'Manus, O'Donog-
hue, and Meagher of high treason, and they were
sentenced to be hanged, drawn and quartered."
* Afterwards an officer in the American army. He was
slain in the American Civil War.
' Afterwards a successful New York lawyer.
' Afterwards well known as an American journalist.
•Maurice Leyne, whose mother was a daughter of Daniel
O'Connell, was the only member of the O'Connell family who
identified himself with Young Ireland. Owing to the failure
of a Crown witness to identify him, the Government abandoned
the prosecution against him. He afterwards joined Gavan
Duffy on the staff of the revived Nation, and died prematurely
in 1854.
• One Catholic, a Unionist, was permitted on Meagher's
Jury. The jurors were : Jas. Willington of Castle Willington ;
Augustus Hartford of Willington Lodge ; Samuel Ryan of
Anna Villa; Thos. Lyndsley of Lindville ; Benjamin Hawkshaw,
Falleen ; Benjamin Hawkshaw, Knockane ; Edward Chad-
wick, Ballinard ; Richard Kennedy, Knockballjrmaher ; Richard
Mason, Clonkenny ; Richard Hamersley, Bansha House ;
Thomas Heirden, Summerhill ; and Nicholas Greene, Knockan-
aspie.
xv-i MEAGHER OF THE SWORD
However, General Sir Charles N'apier had in his
possession a letter dated June 25, 1832, sent from
the Home Office in London at the direction of some
of the men who constituted the government of
England in 1848, nominating him to take com-
mand of the Birmingham section of an English
insurrection planned by the English Liberals in
that year. He was subpoenaed to produce it at
the trials in Clonmel, but the Judges refused to per-
mit it to be received. Thereupon it was published
in the press and its publication made the carrying
out of the death-sentence impossible to Lord John
Russell and his Government colleagues who had
planned ten years before to commit High Treason
against the Constitution of their own country.
The sentences were changed to transportation for
life, and Meagher, in January, 1852, succeeded in
escaping to America, where he was received with
enthusiasm, and where the remainder of his event-
ful life was spent. In turn orator, journalist, lawyer,
explorer, and soldier, he raised the celebrated Irish
Brigade which under his gallant leadership in
the American Civil War enhanced the military
reputation of Ireland. " Meagher," wrote the
Confederate Commander, General Lee, " though
not equal to Clebufne in military genius, rivalled
him in bravery and in the affection of his soldiers.
The gallant stand which his bold brigade made on
the heights of Fredericksburg is well known. Never
were men so brave. They ennobled their race by
their splendid gallantry on that desperate occasion."
In founding the brigade Meagher had hope of
PREFACE xvii
returning at its head to Ireland, for the relations
between the Northern States and England were
strained and on the arrest of the Confederate
envoys, Mason and Slidell, when sailing under
the British flag, by a Federal cruiser, he wrote
exultantly to his Brigade that war with England
was imminent and that the Irish-American soldiers
would be the first chosen to land in Ireland. But
war did not ensue, and his bright hope of returning
to Ireland at the head of an Army of Deliverance
was quenched.
At the conclusion of the war Meagher was
appointed Secretary and subsequently Acting-
Governor of Montana. In that position he incurred
the hostility of the professional politicians who
lost some of their profits by his upright administra-
tion. Threats were muttered against him. One
July evening he arrived at Fort Benton on official
duty and went aboard a moored river steamer to
rest for the night. A few hours later a cry was
heard and Meagher disappeared down the river.
His death was generally attributed to accident. A
few years ago a man named Miller confessed to
having murdered him for hire, but subsequently
withdrew his confession. Whether accident or an
assassin's hand ended the life of Thomas Francis
Meagher is not likely to be ever ascertained,
Meagher has appealed to the popular imagina-
tion in Ireland more warmly than any other
Irish patriot of the nineteenth century except
Robert Emmet. Chivalrous, eloquent, generous,
ardent and handsome he inspired personal affection
xviii MEAGHER OF THE SWORD
and public trust. In the Young Ireland movement
he was not of the greatest men. In strength of
intellect and character he did not stand on the
plane with men such as Davis and Mitchel. But
he was the most picturesque and gallant figure of
Young Ireland and he stands above all his colleagues,
and indeed above all Irishmen of his century as
the National Orator. In the speeches he delivered
in Ireland from 1846 to 1848 he will live for ever.
They are the authentic and eloquent voice of Irish
Nationalism. Save Emmet's Speech from the
Dock no modem oratory has rung so true to the
Irish Nation as the oratory of Meagher. The Young
Ireland movement had its philosophers, its poets,
its statesmen, but without Meagher it would have
been incomplete. In him it gave to Ireland the
National Tribune. It gave to Ireland, too, in
Thomas Francis Meagher a knightly exemplar for
young Irishmen, one who never forgot or forsook
the cause of his native land, or doubted its ultimate
victory. "God speed the Irish Nation to liberty
and power," was the last prayer written by
" Meagher of the Sword."
Arthur Griffith.
CONTENTS
On the Union ....
English Liberal Government in Ireland
Irish Youth and English Whiggery
The O'Connell-Whig Alliance
The Sword
Ireland and America .
The O'Connellites
Union with England .
Whiggery and Famine
Irish Slaves and English Corruption
National Politics
Placehunting .
The Citizen and the Mob
The Ulstermen
Mitchel's Policy
A Reply to the Placehunters
Repeal or a Republic
Famine and Felony
John Mitchel .
A Personal Narrative of 1848
Narrative of the Penal Voyage to Tasmania
The Boyhood of Meagher
Recollections of Waterford
The Galway Election .
Appendices
List of Contemporaries
Index
ILLUSTRATIONS
FACING PAGE
Thomas Francis Meagher, 1846 . frontispiece
Thomas Francis Meagher {from Professor Gluck
mann's daguerreotype)
The Music Hall, Lower Abbey Street, Dublin, 1848
A Meeting in the Music Hall
A Letter from Meagher .
Autographs of the State Prisoners in Clonmel Gaol
William Smith O'Brien ...
Terence Bellew MacManus
Patrick O'Donoghue
Michael Kavanagh, Joseph Brenan {America)
John Mitchel ....
Kilmainham Gaol in 1848
Ormonde Castle, Kilkenny
Meagher as a Boy {from a pencil sketch) .
Thomas Francis Meagher {Brig.-Gen. of the Irish
Brigade, 1861-64.
vm
xxiv
16
48
64
96
112
144
160
192
208
256
272
288
Meagher's Irish Brigade Flag of the 6gih Regiment 304
SPEECHES ON IRELAND
1846-1848
On the Union
Speech in Conciliation Hall, February i6th, 1846
Sir, we have pledged ourselves never to accept the
Union — to accept the Union upon no terms — ^nor any
modification of the Union. It ill becomes a country
like ours — a country with an ancient fame — a country
that gave light to Europe whilst Europe's oldest State
of this day was yet an infant in civilisation and in arms
— a country that has written down great names upon
the brightest page of European literature — a country
that has sent orators into the senate whose eloquence,
to the latest day, will inspire free sentiments, and dictate
bold acts — a country that has sent soldiers into the
field whose courage and whose hofiour it will ever be
our duty to imitate — a country whose sculptors rank
high in Rome, and whose painters have won for Irish
genius a proud pre-eminence even in the capital of the
stranger — a country whose musicians may be said to
stand this day in glorious rivalship with those of Italy,
and whose poets have had their melodies re-echoed
from the most polished courts of Europe to the loneliest
dwellings in the deep forests beyond the Mississippi — it
ill becomes a country so distinguished and respectable
to serve as the subaltern of England, qualified as she
is to take up an eminent position, and stand erect
in the face of Europe. It is hers to command, for she
possesses the materials of manly power and stately
opulence. Education is abroad, and her people are
being tutored in the arts and virtues of an enlightened
manhood. They are being taught how to enjoy, and
2 MEAGHER OF THE SWORD
how to preserve, the beatitude of freedom. A spirit
of brotherhood is ahve, and breathing through the
land. Old antipathies are losing ground — ^traditional
distinctions of sect and party are being now effaced.
Irrespective of descent or creed, we begin at last to
appreciate the abilities and virtues of all our fellow-
countrymen. We now look into history with the
generous pride of the nationalist, not with the cramped
prejudice of the partisan. We do homage to Irish
valour, whether it conquers on the walls of Derry or
capitulates with honour before the ramparts of Limerick ;
and, sir, we award the laurel to Irish genius, whether
it has lit its flame within the walls of old Trinity or
drawn its inspiration from the sanctuary of Saint
Omer's. Acting in this spirit, we shall repair the
errors and reverse the mean condition of the past. If
not, we perpetuate the evil that has for so many years
consigned this country to the calamities of war and
the infirmities of vassalage. " We must tolerate each
other," said Henry Grattan, the inspired preacher of
Irish nationality — ^he whose eloquence, as Moore has
described it, was the very music of Freedom — " We
must tolerate each other, or we must tolerate the common
enemy." After years of social disorder, years of de-
testable recrimination, between factions, and provinces,
and creeds, we are on the march to freedom. A nation,
organised and disciplined, instructed and inspired,
under the guidance of wise spirits, and in the dawning
light of a glorious future, makes head against a powerful
supremacy. On the march let us sustain a firm, a
gallant, and a courteous bearing. Let us avoid all
offence to those who pass us by ; and, by rude affronts,
let us not drive still further from our ranks those who
at present decline to join. If aspersed, we must not
stop to retaliate. With proud hearts let us look forward
ON THE UNION 3
to the event that will refute all calumnies — that will
vindicate our motives and recompense our labours.
An honourable forbearance towards those who censure
us, a generous respect for those who differ from us,
will do much to diminish the difficulties that impede
our progress. Let us cherish, and, upon every occasion,
manifest an anxiety for the preservation of the rights
of all our fellow-countrymen — their rights as citizens—
their municipal rights — the privileges which their rank
in society has given them — the position which their
wealth has purchased or their education has conferred
— and we will in time, and before long, efface the im-
pression that we seek for Repeal with a view to crush
those rights, to erect a Church-ascendancy, to injure
property, and create a slave-class. But, sir, whilst we
thus act towards those who dissent from the principles
we profess, let us not forget the duties we owe each
other. The goodwill it becomes us to evince towards
our opponents, the same should we cultivate amongst
ourselves. Above all, let us cherish, and in its full
integrity maintain, the right of free discussion. With
his views identified with ours upon the one great
question, let us not accuse of treason to the national
cause the associate who may deem this measure ad-
visable or that measure inexpedient. Upon subordinate
questions — questions of detail — ^there must naturally
arise in this assembly a difference of opinion. If views
adverse to the majority be entertained, we should-
solicit their exposition, and meet them by honest
argument. If the majority rule, let the minority be
heard. Toleration of opinion will generate confidence
amongst all classes, and lay the sure basis of national
independence. But, sir, whilst we thus endeavour
wisely to conciliate, let us not, to the strongest foe,
nor in the most tempting emergency, weakly capitulate.
4 MEAGHER OF THE SWORD
A decisive attitude — ■an unequivocal tone — ^language
that cannot be construed by the English press into the
renunciation or the postponement of our claim — these
should be the characteristics of this assembly at the
present crisis, if we desire to convince the opponents
of our freedom that our sentiments are sincere and our
vow irrevocable. Let earnest truth, stern fidelity to
principle, love for all who bear the name of Irishmen,
sustain, ennoble, and immortalise this cause. Thus
shall we reverse the dark fortunes of the Irish race,
and call forth here a new nation from the ruins of the
old. Thus shall a parliament moulded from the soil,
racy of the soil, pregnant with the sympathies and
glowing with the genius of the soil, be here raised up.
Thus shall an honourable kingdom be enabled to fulfil
the great ends that a bounteous Providence hath
assigned her — ^which ends have been signified to her in
the resources of her soil and the abilities of her sons.
English Liberal Government in
Ireland
Speech in Conciliation Hall, June 15TH, 1846,
UPON the Accession of the Whigs to Office.
We are told, sir, by the London papers, that the
days of the Conservative ministry are numbered.
The seals of office, it is said, will soon be held by a
Whig Premier, and with the change of power, it is
surmised, that a change of policy with regard to Ireland
will take place. Whether that surmise be true or false,
I know not ; but this I know, that whatever statesmen
rule the empire, whatever policy prevails, the principles
of this Association are immutable, and, amid the clash
and shiftings of the imperial factions, will remain un-
shaken. Sir, I state this boldly ; for the suspicion is
abroad that the national cause will be sacrificed to
the Whigs, and that the people, who are now striding
on to freedom, will be purchased back into factious
vassalage. The Whigs, themselves, calculate upon
your apostacy — the Conservatives predict it. They
cannot believe that you are in earnest — at least it
seems difficult to convince them of your truth. On
the hustings you must dispel their incredulity, read
them an honest lesson, and vindicate your characters.
On their return to power, the Whigs, I trust, shall find,
that in their absence, you have become a reformed
people — that you have abjured the errors of faction,
and have been instructed in the truths of patriotism.
They shall find, I trust, that a new era has here com-
6 MEAGHER OF THE SWORD
menced — that you have been roused to a sense of your
inherent power, and, with the conviction that you
possess an abihty equal to the sustainment of a bold
position, you have vowed never more to act the Sepoy
for English faction. To their reproach, sir, it must be
said, that the people of this country have been too
long the credulous menials of English Liberalism — dedi-
cating to foreign partisanship those fine energies which
should have been exclusively reserved for the duties
of Irish citizenship. Till now you have had no faith
in the faculties of your country. You implored from
reform clubs in London that which a free senate in
your old capital could alone confer. Upon the hustings
your tone was English, not Irish. You stood by the
promises of Russell — ^you foreswore the principles of
Grattan. You shouted for municipal reform — ^you
forgot your manufactures. You cried out for free
trade — having no very important exchange of com-
modities to promote. You petitioned for a supply of
franchises, that Irish Radicalism might grow strong,
when you should have demanded back those rights
which would have made the Irish nation great. The
aristocrat of Bedford marshalled you against the
plebeian of Tamworth, when, lifting up a distinct flag,
you should have marched and struck against them both.
Sir, it was full time that this should cease, and that
the spirit of the country should manifest itself in an
independent policy. Let me not be told that the
Whigs were our benefactors, and deserve our gratitude.
They were, indeed, the benefactors of " moderate "
Catholics and " liberal " Protestants, but the Catholic
democracy and the Protestant aristocracy were alike
neglected and insulted by them. What memorial,
may I ask, have they left behind them that claims our
respect, and would win us to their ranks ? It is true
ENGLISH LIBERAL GOVERNMENT 7
their appointments were, for the most part, judicious.
There were honourable men elevated to the bench during
their administration — ^honorable men, I grant you — ^but
men " whose overtopping eminence," as our illustrious
friend, Thomas Davis, has written, " was such as made
their acceptance of a judgeship no promotion." And I
believe, sir, there are few, if any, instances on record of
partisan prejudices mingling with the dispensation of
justice whilst they held office. Upon this question,
however, I will not dwell, for it is a debatable question
in this country, and, if discussed, might revive the
antipathies of party. But I look beyond the Queen's
Bench, beyond the court of petty sessions, beyond the
police barrack, beyond the glebe house, and I demand,
what was the condition of the people, what was the
condition of the country, during the reign of the late
Whig government ? Your commerce, did that thrive ?
— your manufactures, were they encouraged ? — ^your
fisheries, were they protected ? — your waste lands —
they are 2,000,000 acres — ^were they reclaimed ? How
fared the Irish artisan — how fared the Irish peasant ?
The one pined, as he yet pines, in your beggared cities
— ^the other starved, as he yet starves, upon your
fruitful soU. Catholic barristers, who made reform
speeches at Morpeth dinners, and quoted the Earl
Grey and the Edinburgh Review, at anti-Tory demon-
strations — ^these gentlemen came in for silk gowns, and
other genteel perquisites ; but you — ^you, the sons of
toil, " the men of horny hand and melting heart " —
you, the thousands, knew no change, Poorlaw com-
missioners were appointed — they were Englishmen and
Scotchmen, for the most part. They came in for large
salaries, and grew opulent upon their mission of charity.
In this case, the indigence of Lazarus was the very
making of Dives. The poorhouses were built, and were
8 MEAGHER OF THE SWORD
soon stocked with vermined rags, and broken hearts —
with orphaned childhood, fevered manhood, and
desolate old age. Whilst these coarse specimens of
the Tudor Gothic were being thus filled, your Custom-
house was drained ; atid now it stands upon your silent
quay, like one of those noble merchant houses that
crumble to the shores of the Adriatic, telling us that —
" Venice lost and won,
Her thirteen-hundred years of freedom done,
Sinks, like a sea-weed, into whence she rose."
Sir, I have been told that the Marquis of Normanby
was a true nobleman. I have been told that he was
a man of enlightened views and generous impulses —
that he was just, benevolent, and chivalrous. Were we
English, and were Ireland the predominant power, I
might, perhaps, desire no other viceroy. We being
Irish — this land being Ireland — I demand an Irish
viceroy for the Irish court. The Geraldines have an
older title to the Castle than the House of Phipps.
Associated with the name of Normanby, I know there
are many brilliant reminiscences. Beauty and Fashion,
deputy-lieutenants who propose Whig candidates at
county elections, a swarm of expectant barristers,
perhaps a solicitor or two — men of " moderate " politics
and " enlightened " tendencies — ^would vote him back
again. In his time there were gala days at the Castle
— many a gay carnival — many a dazzling dance in St.
Patrick's Hall. But were there bright eyes, and happy
hearts, and busy hands in the tenements of the Liberty ?
Society — the perfumed society of your squires ! — ^was
happy in those days, and loved the amiable Whig
government, and would, no doubt, in gratitude for the
viceregal balls at which it flounced and whirled, vote
for Whig candidates to-morrow. But, sir, the spciety
ENGLISH LIBERAL GOVERNMENT 9
that is not exempted from the primeval curse — the
society that wears out strong sinews to earn the
privilege of bread — the society that knows no day of
rest, no day of joy, but God's own hohday — that day
on which He bids the toiler go forth and soothe his
sorrows amid the glories of His creation — that day on
which many a worn hand may wreathe a garland of
flowers that has been weaving a crown of thorns the
live-long week — the society that decks out fashion,
that rears up the mansions of the rich, and by which
alone, if there was danger on the coast to-morrow, this
land could be furriished with a stalwart guard for its
defence — this, the elder, the stronger, the nobler society,
has no such memories — no such incentives to sub-
serviency. Roused from the slumber into which the
insidious eloquence and plausible philosophy of liberalism
had lulled them, the people have started up ; and now,
for the first time, see before them a country of which
they had not dreamt, and a new destiny revealing itself
to them, like the sun from behind their old hills, and
that destiny expanding into glory, as it mounts the
heaven, and settles high above the Island. No, sir,
the people of Ireland can never more be duped into
subserviency by assurances of sympathy, and promises
of redress. We have become incredulous of party —
we distrust, despise, denounce it. We recognise, at
last, the truth of a maxim uttered many years ago by
Swift, that " party is the madness of the many for the
gain of the few ; " and we have learned to regard a
Whig government in Ireland as little else than a state
relief committee for political mendicants, most of
whom are political impostors. Nor do we forget the
Ebrington manifesto. Sir, that was a coarse insult to
the manhood of the country, and the manhood of the
country must resent it — ^resent it by being honest, for
10 MEAGHER OF THE SWORD
honesty deals sweeping vengeance on the Whigs. You
recollect that attempt of theirs to purchase up, in the
market of the Castle, the fresh strength, the glowing
genius, the bold enthusiasm of the country. They did
not address themselves to the old men of Ireland — to
those whose faltering footsteps were waking the echoes
of the grave, and who, in a few years, at most, would
be laid to rest among their fathers. No, they addressed
the youth of Ireland, knowing well that the youth of
a country are the trustees of her prosperity — ^the
praetorians of her freedom. To them they held out the
golden chalice of the Treasury corruptionists, that so
the young, free soul of Ireland might drink, and having
drunk, sink down for ever, a diseased and pensioned
slave. " Young men," said they, " a long life is before
you — ^the luxuries of office — the privileges of place.
To taste the former, to acquire the latter, you must
qualify by recreancy, and befit yourselves by servitude.
Renounce, then, the manly duties, reject the pure
honours of honest citizenship — cease to be the unpaid
servants of your country — ^become the hirelings of
party. You are young Irishmen, and have read the
history of your country. Disclaim, then, the doctrines
of Grattan, the integrity of Flood ; accept the maxims,
emulate the perfidies of Castlereagh and Fitzgibbon.
You are scholars, and have read the history of Greece
and Rome. From the story of Sparta learn nothing
but the obedience of the Helots. From the pictured
page of Livy learn, if you like, the ambition of the
Caesars, but shun the stern incorruptibility of the
Gracchii. Thus will you climb to power, gain access
to the viceregal table, and be invited to masquerades
at Windsor. Thus, if your ambition be parliamentary,
will you qualify for Melbourne Port, or some other
convenient Whig borough ; and when, at length.
ENGLISH LIBERAL GOVERNMENT ii
removed from that comitry whose wretchedness would
have been to you a constant pang, and whose politics
would have been an incessant drain upon your resources,
and when mingling in the lordly society of London, or
sitting on the Treasury bench beside your patrician
benefactors, oh ! you will bless the Government that
patronised servility, and thank your God that you
have had a country to sell." But, sir, it is said that a
great change has taken place in Enghsh poUtics, and
that the Whigs have been converted to the cause of
Ireland. A very recent conversion, it must be ad-
mitted, if it has occurred, for I hold in my hand the
letter addressed by Viscount Melbourne to the secretary
of the Association a few weeks since. It is well to
read it now : —
" South Street,
February 24th, 1846.
" Sir, — I beg leave to acknowledge your letter of
the 20th tnst., and to inform you, in reply, that it is
my decided opinion that the measure now before the
House of Lords, which has for its object the more
effectual prevention and the more certain discovery of
the frightful crimes which prevail in many parts of
Ireland, has clearly been delayed too long, and cannot
now be pressed with too much celerity.
" I remain, sir, your faithful and obedient servant,
" Melbourne.
" To the Secretary of the
Loyal National Repeal Association, Ireland."
Forget those sentiments if you can — forgive them if
you like — ^breathing, as they do, a spirit of the most
dogged despotism, and then believe that the rumoured
conversion of the Whigs is sincere. Believe it, and
forget that, in the House of Commons, Lord John
12 MEAGHER OF THE SWORD
Russell and his colleagxies voted for the first reading of
the Coercion Bill — ^voted against the liberty of Ireland,
to comply with " the usual custom of the house."
BeUeve it, and forget, that this time last year their
most eloquent confederate announced from his seat in
parliament that the price of your independence should
be a civil war. But, sir, I have to apologise. After
all, this is not the tone in which I should address a
people who have vowed, before man and God, to raise
up a nation here in these western waters, and to make
that nation as free as the freest that now bears a flag
upon the sea, and guards a senate upon the land. It
was not to recede and apostatise that you advanced so
far, and believe in a new fate. It was not for this that
you evoked the memories of a great event — ^that you
looked back to the church of Dungannon, and embraced
the principles, though you could not unsheathe the
swords of the patriot soldiers of '82. It was not for
this that you gathered in thousands upon the hill of
Tara, and hailed your leader upon the Rath of Mullagh-
mast, as the Romans did Rienzi in the Palace of the
Capitol. There you swore that Ireland should be called
once more a " free nation " — that she should have a
senate to protect — a commerce to enrich her. After
this, associate with the Whigs ; lend them your voices
— " your most sweet voices ; " let your demands
dwindle down to their powers of concession ; unite
with them in their oppression of the Orangemen, who
are your brothers ; give over your notions about self-
government — those notions are very absurd ; go back
to Precursorship — it's just the thing — it's very genteel ;
don't say a word about Irish artists and the encourage-
ment of Irish genius ; back the poor law commissioners,
and sustain the new police ; be practical — ^that is, be
partisan ; be sensible — that is, cease to be honest ; be
ENGLISH LIBERAL GOVERNMENT 13
rational — that is, conceive a very poor opinion of your
country ; fall as Athens fell, whose soul
" No foreign foe could quell,
Till from itself it fell-
Till self-abasement paved the way
To villain bonds and despot sway."
Thus will your country win the eloquent sympathies
of Whig orators, and, " when the times improve," the
kind consideration of Whig statesmen ; but, mind you,
America will indict her as a swindler, and France placard
her as a coward. As I said before, I should not pursue
this strain, knowing, as I do, your determination,
knowing that you would repel the man who, in this
Hall, would vote a compromise, and beat down the
traitor, whoever he might be. I would not have done
so but the report was abroad that our demands would
moderate with the advent of the Whigs, and that the
spirit of this Association would be affected by the
transition of patronage from one English faction to
another. Our future acts, I have no doubt, will teach
our opponents the error of this report, and prove to
them that we are in earnest, that we mean what we
say, and that out of this contest we will not back,
come what may. The next elections will prove to
them that we have gone into this struggle with a firm
purpose to fight it out to the last, and make a good
end of it, with the help of God. The cry upon the
hustings must be " Repeal," and nothing else. The
members of this Association, the people of Ireland, are
pledged to nothing else ; and from those hustings, I
trust, there will be heard many an honest shout of
" Down with the Whigs — down with corruption." Let
the people look out, select their representatives in time,
and be assured they are true men. They have been
14 MEAGHER OF THE SWORD
deceived before. At former elections men have not
hesitated to take pledges which they had no intention
to redeem — men who, even in the English Commons
have been the eloquent advocates of that measure
which they now do not blush to designate a " splendid
phantom." Beware of Whig candidates. Accept no
man in whose integrity you do not place full reliance,
and whose heart, you may have reason to suspect, is
not thoroughly in the cause he professes to uphold.
Demand from those gentlemen who solicit your votes
the most explicit declaration — plain, straightforward,
conclusive declarations. Vote for no man who is not
an enrolled member of this Association, and who will
not pledge himself to you to work here in this Hall,
and vote hereafter in the English Commons, for the
unconditional Repeal of the Legislative Union. I know,
sir, that to pursue this line of conduct manfully, a
sacrifice of personal interest — more than all, a sacrifice
of private feeling — may be required from some of us.
But the cause is worthy of the most severe sacrifice
which men could undergo. I tell you candidly, if my
father was in parliament, and had up to this period
refused to join this Association, were he at the next
election to present himself to his constituency and ask
their votes again, I would be the first to vote against
him. It is better that the hearts of a few should be
pained, than that the great heart of the nation should be
broken. Hereafter, for whatever we may endure —
and as yet we have suffered nothing — ^we shall receive
an ample recompense. For myself, and for those with
whom I most associate, I can answer to the country.
If we, who have beeii suspected for our honesty, and
censured for our. zeal — we, who will love the country,
though the country may not love us — if we be not
called away in the morning of our life, hke our illustrious
ENGLISH LIBERAL GOVERNMENT 15
friend, Thomas Davis, our prophet and our guide — ^he
whose integrity we shall ever strive to emulate though
his labours we may not equal — he whom it is but just
to number amongst those of whom a glorious poet has
written —
" That as soon
As they had touched the earth with native flame,
Fled back like eagles to their living noon — "
If we be not called away like as he has been — if it be
our fate to live and witness the triumph, toiling for
which he died, then shall we receive our recompense
— a free, young nation will look upon us in her glory,
and bid us be glad of heart amongst her free sons —
and when, at length, our time hath come, we shall
sleep not in the Desert, but in the Promised Land.
Irish Youth and EngUsh Whiggery
Speech in Conciliation Hall, June 22nd, 1846.
Sir, I do not apologise to the meeting for taking part
in the discussion that has arisen. The observations I
consider it my duty to make will be few, for my friends
who preceded me have left me little to say. The
principles they maintain, the opinions they hold, have
been defended by them with courage and ability. I
have embraced those principles — I profess those opinions.
The defence which my friends have made is my defence.
That it was no weak defence your applause sufficiently
attests. That it was called for, no one will deny who
heard the speech that was delivered by Mr. Fitzpatrick^
at the commencement of our proceedings this day.
That gentleman reproached us with " the elaborate
preparation of our speeches," and he did so in a speech
that was evidently prepared. If it is a fault to speak
with premeditation — if it is a fault so to train our
thoughts and frame our language that we may appear
before this assembly in a manner worthy of its character ;
if this be censurable, then is Mr. Fitzpatrick not exempt
from blame. In uttering these taunts he impairs his
own title to forensic fame. He preaches against a
practice in which, for the last few days, he must have
been most sedulously engaged. He is a scholar, I
* Leader of the attack upon the Young Irelanders. After-
wards rewarded by the English Government with a Colonial
Law-Officership.
16
ENGLISH WHIGGERY 17
believe, and in this instance will not consider the quota-
tion inappropriate : —
" Clodius accusat moechus.''
Sir, this gentleman, inspired, no doubt, with the zeal
of a true patriot, rose to denounce past differences
and he gave effect to his denunciation by provoking
new dissensions. He was not present at the last
battle — ^he had no opportunity of evincing his courage
or of testing his skill — therefore, for his own especial
benefit, he should get up a fresh one to-day. He
repudiates disunion, but the result is discord. He
preaches peace, and preaches it so forcibly as to provoke
a war. The attack has been begun — ^we have been
struck, but from our position we will not flinch. The
imputations with which we have been insulted, the
charges with which we have been aggrieved, we shall
meet, and boldly meet. That we suspect the integrity
of our leader, we deny. That we have assailed him,
let the people decide. You have our assurance that,
in denouncing the Whigs, we designed no attack upon
the leader of this Association. Accept that assurance,
or reject it as you may find reason to do. If you
believe us to be men of truth, accept it. If you believe
us to be false, reject the assurance, and denounce our
acts. But we have been told that in denouncing the
Whigs, we insulted the people. In warning the people
against the Whigs, we are told that we implied a
corrupt tendency in the people. Sir, we remembered
what the Whigs had done in other times, and were
prompted by the recollection to warn those whom they
deceived before. If to warn be to insult, then do we
plead guilty, and we await the penalty. Did I con-
sider the defence of the Whigs that has been made here
this day of such a nature as to induce you to look
i8 MEAGHER OF THE SWORD
upon them with more favorable eyes than you did a
few days since, I should not hesitate to restate my
opinions upon the policy of that party. But I know
your truth, and feel assured that the most eloquent
advocate they could purchase would fail to effect a
compromise of the national question — fail to induce
your acceptance of the most " liberal measure " they
can concede as an equivalent for the independence you
are ambitious to restore. Perhaps this sentiment
ought not to have escaped me. We are young men,
" juvenile orators," and should not venture to speak
on your behalf. Mr. O'Connell, in his letter, alludes
to our youth — ^Mr. Fitzpatrick reproves it. If youth
be a fault, it is a fault we cannot help. Each day
corrects it, however, and that is a consoling reflection.
If it be an intrusion on our parts to come to this Hall,
to aid your efforts and to propagate your principles, I
can only say it is an intrusion which your applause
has sanctioned. For myself, I think it right to say,
that when I came to Dublin this winter I did not
expect that I should have had the honour of sustaining
so conspicuous a part as I believe I have done in your
couricils. It was not my intention to have assumed
this part. It was forced upon me, and, to the entreaty
of my friends, I was induced to yield. Believe me,
whatever a young man may gain by successful displays
in public, he incurs much by these displays that pains
and depresses him. If he wins the paneg57ric of some
he is sure to excite the envy of others. He is pained
by suspicions, secret rumours, direct attacks. His
motives are impugned, his acts condemned ; these are
the penalties attached to youth. More than this, if
he suffers from the malice of his foes, he must submit
to the sarcasm of his elder friends. In replying to the
charges that have been made against us, we feel that
ENGLISH WHIGGERY 19
we labour under a serious disadvantage. Youth is a
season of promise more than of retrospect. We cannot
rest upon the memory of past services — ^we cannot
appeal to your gratitude. Upon our principles alone
we take our stand — in your patriotism we place our
trust. Mr. Fitzpatrick congratulates himself upon the
" five millions " that back him, and regrets that we
can only muster " five." An error in his political
arithmetic, no doubt. The " five millions " are not
against the five — ^perhaps it is not too much to say
the " five millions " are with the " five." One
thing I know, that those who are familiar with us are
aware that we do not speak in public what we do not
speak in private — that between our public and our
private sentiments there is no discrepancy — that we
do not sneer in private at the men whom we eulogise
in public. We do not make Repeal a jest, for we have
made it a vow. As we have acted, thus we shall
continue to act. You may exclude us from this Hall.
I say you may exclude us from this Hall, but you will
not separate us from the country. Your applause did
not call forth our love of country — your denunciation
will not repress it. Exclusion from this Hall will not
affect our sentiments, our principles, our resolves.
On the contrary, there are many things in a popular
agitation that tend rather to enervate than strengthen
sentiments of a generous nature. There are many
things in the depths of a political society that repel,
offend, disgust. Removed from these, our hearts are
pure, and our minds are free. Beyond these walls
we have many incentives to love our country, and to
serve her well. Her lofty mountains, her old ruins,
full of a glorious history — ^her old music — the memories
of her soldiers, her statesmen, and her poets — ^these
you cannot deprive us of. So long as we possess these.
20 MEAGHER OF THE SWORD
so long shall Ireland inspire our love and claim our
service. Nor can I believe that you will forget our
names. Least of all will you forget the men who gave
to you a new literature. You will not forget the men
who have given to you those songs that have cheered
the heart of the old man and have kindled into fire
the thoughts of youth — those songs which the peasant
may teach the echo on the moimtain, and which ^may
yet be heard upon a field of triumph. This, sir, is
certain, we shall leave this Hall as we entered it — the
unpaid servants of our country. We shall leave it
with our honour unimpaired, though our influence
may be crushed — ^we shall leave it asserting the right
of free opinion, and our determination to defend it —
and if, hereafter, you regret the step you may have
taken against us, and once more require our aid, though
you may have acted towards us as the citizens of Rome
once did towards Coriolanus of Corioli, we will not
imitate his recreant revenge — ^we will not go over to
the Volsci — ^but return to your ranks, and fight beneath
the flag from which you drove us.
The O'Connell-Whig Alliance
Speech in Conciliation Hall, July 13TH, 1846.
I beg leave, my Lord Mayor, to say a few words
upon the report that has been brought' up from the
committee by Mr. O'Connell, relative to the Dungarvan
election. Mr. O'Connell has stated that the report
was unanimously adopted. I wish to explain what
occurred in the committee. I spoke against the
resolution that was adopted — I urged a contest. It is
true that when the question was put from the chair
I did not express my dissent. That was a mistake
I assure you. I did not assent to that report — I could
not do so in conscience. No candidate appeared, that
is true — ^no candidate was put forward, I believe. That
. fact, I conceive, was the only one that justified the
decision that was made by the committee — ^it is the
only one that can justify the Association in giving its
sanction to that report. My lord, I sincerely regret
that no effort was made to procure a candidate, and
that a different course was not advised by the committee.
I regret exceedingly that the battle for Repeal was
not fought upon the hustings of Dungarvan, against
all odds, and in the teeth of every risk. The influence
of the Duke of Devonshire has been alluded to. If
the fear of ducal influence, my lord, is to deter us from
the assertion of our rights, farewell, then, say I, to
public honour, to public virtue, to public liberty in
Ireland. If in the Cavendishes there lies a stronger
spell than in the banner of Repeal, our cause, in truth,
2t
22 MEAGHER OF THE SWORD
is hopeless. Had we won the battle, the result is
obvious. A new impulse would have been given to the
country, and a spirit have been evoked that might
have prompted the less resolute constituencies of the
country to the firm assertion of the national principle.
Had we sustained a defeat, even then, my lord, we
would have gained not a few advantages. In the first
place, we would have convinced the opponents of
Repeal that we were thoroughly in earnest, and have
rescued the Association from the aspersions of its
enemies. This done, the ground on which we stand
would have been strengthened by a more implicit
belief in our sincerity. In the next place, a defeat
might have proved a serviceable lesson to the Repealers
of Dungarvan, teaching them the nature and extent of
their resources, and how far those resources should be
improved, so that a second defeat might be impossible.
Above all, my lord, a contest in Dungarvan, however
it might have eventuated, would have taught the Whigs
that the heart of Ireland was bent upon Repeal, and
that, even in the most adverse circumstances, it would
not permit the promises of a party to obviate the
principles of a people. A contest would have taught
the Whigs that we are here organised not to serve them,
but to emancipate ourselves. It would have taught
them that we look beyond the boons, the sympathies,
the appointments which an English political school may
acquire the temporary power to distribute, and that
we aspire to the wealth, the influence, the independence
which an Irish parliament sitting in this the Irish capital,
composed exclusively of Irish citizens, and wholly
exempt from-English control, would have the permanent
ability to confer. My lord, I ffear that the election of
Richard Shell, unopposed, as it has been, will cast a
stain upon the records of this Association. That is
THE O'CONNELL-WHIG ALLIANCE 23
my opinion, and by that opinion I will abide. If
another exception be made — if another constituency
be exempted from the Repeal test, then I frankly tell
you, I must say that a gross injustice has been done
in the cases of Cork and Cashel to Serjeant Murphy
and to Serjeant Stock. The constituencies of those
places made great sacrifices to assert the national
principle. Serjeant Stack was a man of sound abihty
and stern integrity. Against him there was never
uttered a complaint by his constituents. Serjeant
Murphy was a scholar, a gentleman, and a patriot. He
was an ornament to the Irish representative body ;
and, my lord, I know not whether the electors of Cork
conferred a greater honour upon Serjeant Murphy by
selecting him as their representative, than Serjeant
Murphy conferred upon the electors of Cork by repre-
senting them. In making these remarks, my lord, I
trust I shall not be misconceived. I do not urge a
factious resistance to the Whigs. I do not say that
we should not sanction the measures they propose
for the amelioration of the country. On the contrary,
I say that we are bound to sanction those measures,
and to aid in their promotion. But what I mean to
convey is this, that we ought not, and on principle
we cannot, manifest more favour towards the Whigs
now that they are in office, than during the late adminis-
tration we felt it our duty to manifest towards the
Conservatives. During the late administration we
gave our support to the Conservatives when they
brought forward measures that were deemed beneficial
to the interests and the institutions of this country.
The Irish members voted with them on the Maynooth
grant — voted with them on the corn question. On
these occasions your conduct was wise, but it was not
partisan. Act, then, towards the Whigs precisely as
24 MEAGHER OF THE SWORD
you have acted toivards the Conservatives. Thus, my
lord, will this Association sustain its independent
character ; and whilst it acquires a few benefits, it
will not compromise a great principle. Then, my lord,
it seems to me that, in giving our support to the Whigs
whenever we may be called upon to give that support,
we should be most careful lest we narrow the basis
of this Association. What, may I ask, is the nature of
that basis ? It is broad and comprehensive — as broad
and comprehensive as the island, the national liberties
of which it is our ambition to erect upon it. It was
made thus so that all sects and parties in the country
might here confederate, linked together in one common
sentiment for the achievement of one great compre-
hensive object. It was not limited to Whig dimensions
— it was not limited to Conservative dimensions — it
was not limited to Protestant dimensions — ^it was not
limited to Catholic dimensions — ^it was made broad and
comprehensive, as I said before, so that every Irish
citizen might come here, no matter what his politics
might be — no matter what his theology might be — no
matter what his lineage might be — and win back for
Ireland the right of self-government — a right, my lord,
that is common to every party, and which, if justly
exercised, will serve every interest in the state. . If we
do not act towards the Whigs precisely as we have
acted towards the Conservatives — if we do not
preserve a strict impartiality between both parties —
if we do not maintain an independent position — if,
on the contrary, we permit this Association to assume a
Whig aspect, and be guided by a Whig spirit, then we
narrow the basis on which we now stand ; we shall
exclude the Irish Conservatives — ^we may exclude the
Irish Radicals. The Manchester League has been
frequently referred to in this Hall. It is a guiding model,
THE O'CONNELL-WHIG ALLIANCE 25
as it is an inspiring hope. That great confederacy was
organised for one purpose, and one purpose only ; it
was based upon one broad principle ; it was the auxiliary
of no party ; it included men of all parties, I believe.
I recollect a speech delivered by Mr. Cobden, at a
meeting in Gloucester, previous to the meeting of
parliament. In that speech the great champion of
Free Trade observed that in the League thousands were
associated, having but one common sentiment to com-
bine them — that, for instance, his friend, Mr. Bright,
and he differed upon a number of questions — ^perhaps
upon no other question but the corn laws did their
opinions coincide. Such was the basis of the Manchester
League, now a great historic memory — such do I con-
ceive the basis of this Association to be — such would
I have it to remain. Besides, my lord, it appears to
me that, if the Whig government is sincere in the pro-
fessions it has made, and if, as it has been asserted, it
can command a great legislative power, the good
measures which have been promised by them will be
carried without our special aid, I trust. The measures
of the present minister will be passed, I hope, without
any wavering on his part — ^without any compromise
on ours. The concession of privileges that have been
long withheld — the enactment of laws that have been
long denied, will not, I hope, produce in Ireland the
result the Whigs predict. It is true, my lord, that
some men may desert from the national ranks, take
place, abandon Repeal, and violate the national vow.
It is the curse of society that from principles the most
sacred there have ever been apostates. I consider
that Repeal is not an open question — I conceive that
any Repealer taking office under the present govern-
ment would be an apostate from the cause. My lord,
for this cause I haye no ie?iv, I trust in the growing
26 MEAGHER OF THE SWORD
spirit of the country — in the thoughtful and truthful
spirit of a new mind. I will conclude now by referring
to an observation made by the honourable member
for Kilkenny^ — ^namely, that any person not concurring
in the repudiation of physical force should cease to be
a member of the Association. I agree that no other
means should be adopted in the Association but moral
means and peaceful means ; but, my lord, whilst I am
prepared to co-operate with you and the other members
of the Association in carrying out the present policy —
and I will do so until that policy either succeed, or that
you determine that it is futile — I say if you determine
that it is futile and that Repeal cannot be carried by
such means, then I am prepared to adopt another
policy — a policy no less honourable though it may be
more perilous — a. policy which I cannot disclaim as
inefficient or immoral, for great names have sanctioned
its adoption, and noble events have attested its efficiency.
[This speech] was continually interrupted by O'Connell
and his supporters].
John O'Connell.
The Sword
The Secession Speech on the " Peace Resolu-
tions " AND THE Exclusion of the " Nation "
Newspaper from the Repeal Association,
July 26th, 1846.
My Lord Mayor, I will commence as Mr. Mitchel
concluded, by an allusion to the Whigs. I fully concur
with my friend that the " most comprehensive meas-
ures " which the Whig minister may propose, will
fail to lift this country up to that position which she
has the right to occupy, and the power to maintain.
A Whig minister, I admit, may improve the province —
he will not restore the nation. Franchises, " equal
laws," tenant compensation bills, " liberal appoint-
ments," in a word, " full justice " (as they say) may
ameliorate — they will not exalt. They may meet the
necessities — ^they will not call forth the abilities of the
country. The errors of the past may be repaired — ^the
hopes of the future will not be fulfilled. With a vote
in one pocket, a lease in the other, and " full justice "
before him at the Petty Sessions, in the shape of a
" restored magistrate," the humblest peasant may be
told that he is free ; but, my lord, he will not have the
character of a freeman — his spirit to dare, his energy
to act. From the stateliest mansion, down to the poorest
cottage in the land, the inactivity, the meanness, the
debasement which provincialism engenders will be
perceptible. These are not the crude sentiments of
27
28 MEAGHER OF THE SWORD
youth, though the mere commercial poUtician, who
has deduced his ideas of self-government from the
table of imports and exports, may satirise them as
such. Age has uttered them, my lord, and the ex-
perience of eighty years has preached them to the
people. A few weeks since, and there stood up in the
Court of Queen's Bench an old and venerable man,^ to
teach the country the great lessons he had learned in
his youth beneath the portico of the Irish Senate
House, and which, during a long life, he had treasured
in his heart as the costliest legacy which a true citizen
could bequeath the land that gave him birth. What
said this aged orator ? " National independence does
not necessarily lead to national virtue and happiness ;
but reason and experience demonstrate that public
spirit and general happiness are looked for in vain
under the withering influence of provincial subjection.
The very consciousness of being dependant on another
power for advancement in the scale of national
being weighs down the spirit of a people, manacles
the efforts of genius, depresses the energies of virtue,
blimts the sense of common glory and common good,
and produces an insulated selfishness of character, the
surest mark of debasement in the individual, ' and
mortality in the State." My lord, it was once said by
an eminent citizen of Rome, the elder Pliny, that " we
owe our youth and manhood to our country, but we
owe our declining age to ourselves." This may have
been the maxim of the Roman — it is not the maxim of
the Irish patriot. One might have thought that the
anxieties, the labours, the vicissitudes of a long career
had dimmed the fire which burned in the heart of the
illustrious old man whose words I have cited ; but
now, almost from the shadow of death, he comes forth
• Robert Holmes.
THE SWORD 29
with the vigour of youth and the authority of age, to
serve the country, in the defence of which he once bore
arms, by an example, my lord, that must shame the
coward, rouse the sluggard, and stimulate the bold.
These sentiments have sunk deep into the public mind.
They are recited as the national creed. Whilst those
sentiments inspire the people, I have no fear for the
national cause — I do not dread the venal influence of
the Whigs (here much interruption occurred, which
being suppressed Mr. Meagher proceeded). I am glad
that gentlemen have thought proper to interrupt me,
for it gives me an opportunity of stating, that it is my
determination to say every word I think fit — the more
especially as I conceive that the issue, which the honour-
able member for Kilkenny so painfully anticipates, is
at hand, and that, perhaps, this is the last time I may
have the honour of meeting you in this Hall, and ex-
pressing to you the opinions which I hold, and to which
I shall ever firmly adhere. I was speaking of the
true sentiments which should animate the people.
Inspired by such sentiments, the people of this country
will look beyond the mere redress of existing wrongs,
and strive for the attainment of future power. A good
government may, indeed, redress the grievances of an
injured people ; but a strong people alone can build
up a great nation. To be strong a people must be
self-reliant, self-ruled, self-sustained. The dependency
of one people upon another, even for the benefits of
legislation, is the deepest source of national weakness.
By an unnatural law it exempts a people from their
first duties — ^their first responsibilities. When you ex-
empt a people from these duties, from these responsi-
bilities, you generate in them a distrust in their own
powers — thus you enervate, if you do not utterly destroy,
that bold spirit which a sense of these responsibilities
30 MEAGHER OF THE SWORD
is sure to inspire, and which the exercise of these duties
never fails to invigorate. Where this spirit does not
actuate, the country may be tranquil — ^it will not be
prosperous. It may exist — it will not thrive. It may
hold together — it will not advance. Peace it may
enjoy, for peace and serfdom are compatible. But, my
lord, it will neither accumulate wealth nor win a
character. It will neither benefit mankind by the
enterprise of its merchants, nor instruct mankind by
the examples of its statesmen. I make these ob-
servations, for it is the custom of some moderate
politicians to say, that when the Whigs have ac-
comphshed the " pacification " of the country, there
will be little or no necessity for Repeal. My lord, there
is something else, there is everything else, to be done
when the work of " pacification " has been accompUshed
— and here I will observe, that the prosperity of a
country is, perhaps, the sole guarantee for its tran-
quillity, and that the more universal the prosperity,
the more permanent will be the repose. But the
Whigs will enrich as well as pacify ! Grant it, my
lord. Then do I conceive that the necessity for Repeal
will augment. Great interests demand great safe-
guards, and the prosperity of a nation requires the
protection of a national senate. Hereafter a national
senate may require the protection of a national army.
So much for the prosperity with which we are threatened ;
and which, it is said by gentlemen on the opposite shore
of the Irish Sea, will crush this Association, and bury
the enthusiasts, who clamour for Irish nationality in a
sepulchre of gold. And yet, I must say, that this pre-
diction is feebly sustained by the ministerial programme
that has lately appeared. On the evening of the
i6th, the Whig premier, in answer to a question that
was put to him by the member for Finsbury, Mr.
THE SWORD 31
Duncombe, is reported to have made this consolatory
announcement : " We consider that the social grievances
of Ireland are those which are most prominent — and to
which it is most likely to be in our power to afford,
not a complete and immediate remedy, but some
remedy, some kind of improvement, so that some kind
of hope may be entertained that some ten or twelve
years hence the country will, by the measures we
undertake, be in a far better state with respect to the
frightful destitution and misery which now prevails in
that country. We have that practical object in view."
After that most consolatory announcement, my lord,
let those who have the patience of Job and the poverty
of Lazarus, continue in good faith " to wait on Provi-
dence and the Whigs " — continue to entertain " some
kind of hope " that if not " a complete and immediate
remedy," at least " some remedy," " some improve-
ment," will place this country in " a far better state "
than it is at present, " some ten or twelve years hence."
After that, let those who prefer the periodical boons of
a Whig government to that which would be the abiding
blessing of an Irish parliament — ^let those who deny to
Ireland what they assert for Poland — let those who
would inflict, as Henry Grattan said, an eternal dis-
ability upon this country, to which Providence has
assigned the largest facilities for power — let those
who would ratify the " base swap," as Mr. Shell once
stigmatized the Act of Union, and who would stamp
perfection upon that deed of perfidy — ^let those
" Plod on in sluggish misery,
Rotting from sire to son, from age to age.
Proud of their trampled nature."
But we, my lord, who are assembled in this Hall,
and in whose hearts the Union has not bred the slave's
32 MEAGHER OF THE SWORD
disease — we have not been imperialised — we are here
to undo that work, which, forty-six years ago, dis-
honoured the aricient peerage, and subjugated the
people of our country. My lord, to assist the people
of Ireland to undo that work I came to this Hall. I
came here to repeal the Act of Union — ^I came here for
nothing else. Upon every other question I feel myself
at perfect liberty to differ from each and every one of
you. Upon questions of finance ; questions of a
religious character ; questions of an educational cha-
racter ; questions of municipal policy ; questions that
may arise from the proceedings of the legislature :
upon all these questions I feel myself at perfect liberty
to differ from each and every one of you. Yet more,
my lord, I maintain that it is my right to express
my opinion upon each of these questions, if necessary.
The right of free opinion I have here upheld : in the
exercise of that right I have differed, sometimes, from
the leader of this Association, and would do so again.
That right I will not abandon ; I will maintain it to
the last. In doing so, let me not be told that I seek
to undermine the influence of the leader of this Associa-
tion, and am insensible to his services. My lord, I
will uphold his just influence, and I am grateful for his
services. This is the first time I have spoken in these
terms of that illustrious Irishman, in this Hall. I did
not do so before — I felt it was unnecessary. I hate
unnecessary praise : I scorn to receive it — I scorn to
bestow it. No, my lord, I am not ungrateful to the
man who struck the fetters off my arms, whilst I was
yet a child ; and by whose influence my father — ^the
first Catholic who did so for two hundred years — sat,
for the last two years, in the civic chair of an ancient
city. But, my lord, the same God who gave to that
great man the power to strike down an odious ascendancy
THE SWORD 33
in this country, and enabled him to institute, in this
land, the glorious law of religious equahty — the same
God gave to me a mind that is my own — a mind that
has not been mortgaged to the opinions of any man or
any set of men ; a mind that I was to use, and not
surrender. My lord, in the exercise of that right,
which I have here endeavoured to uphold — a right
which this Association should preserve inviolate, if
it desires not to become a despotism — in the exercise
of that right I have differed from Mr. O'Connell on
previous occasions, and differ from him now. I do
not agree with him in the opinion he entertains of my
friend, Charles Gavan Duffy — that man whom I am
proud indeed to call my friend, though he is a " con-
victed conspirator," and suffered for you in Richmond
Prison. I do not think he is a " maligner " ; I do not
think he has lost, or deserves to lose, the public favour.
I have no more connection with the Nation than I
have with the Times. I, therefore, feel no delicacy in
appearing here this day in defence of its principles,
with which I avow myself identified. My lord, it is
to me a source of true delight and honest pride to speak
this day in defence of that great journal. I do not
fear to assume the position. Exalted as it be, it is
easy to maintain it. The character of that journal is
above reproach ; and the ability that sustains it has
won a European fame. The genius of which it is the
offspring, the truth of which it is the oracle, have
been recognised, my lord, by friends and foes. I care
not how it may be assailed ; I care not howsoever
great may be the talent, howsoever high may be the
position of those who now consider it their duty to
impeach its writings : I do think that it has won too
splendid a reputation to lose the influence it has ac-
quired. The people, whose enthusiasm has been kindled
34 MEAGHER OF THE SWORD
by the impetuous fire of its verse, and whose sentiments
have been ennobled by the earnest purity of its teaching,
will not ratify the censure that has been pronounced
upon it in this Hall. Truth will have its day of triumph,
as well as its day of trial ; and I do believe that the
fearless patriotism which, in those pages, has braved
the prejudices of the day, to enunciate new truths, will
triumph in the end. My lord, such do I believe to be
the character, such do I anticipate will be the fate of
the principles that are now impeached. This brings
me to what may be called the " question of the day."
Before I enter upon that question, however, I will
allude to one observation which fell from the honourable
member for Kilkenny, and which may be said to refer
to those who have expressed an opinion that has been
construed into a declaration of war. The honourable
gentleman said, in reference, I presume, to those who
dissented from the resolutions of Monday, that those
who were loudest in their declaration of war, were
usually the most backward in acting up to those
declarations. My lord, I do not find fault with the
honourable gentleman for giving expression to a very
ordinary saying ; but this I will say, that I did not
volunteer the opinion he condemns : to the declaration
of that opinion I was forced. You left me no alterna-
tive — I should compromise my opinion, or avow it.
To be honest I avowed it. I did not do so to brag, as
they say. We have had too much of that " bragging "
in Ireland — I would be the last to imitate the custom.
Well, I dissented from those " peace resolutions," as
they are called. Why so ? In the first place, my
lord, I conceive there was not the least necessity for
them. No member of this Association advised it. No
member of this Association, I believe, would be so
infatuate as to do SO, In the existing circumstances
THE SWORD 35
of the country an incitement to arms would be senseless,
and, therefore, wicked. To talk, now-a-days, of re-
pealing the Act of Union by the force of arms, would
be to rhapsodise. If the attempt were made, it would
be a decided failure. There might be riot in the street
— ^there would be no revolution in the country. Our
esteemed under-secretary, Mr. Crean, wiU more effect-
ively promote the cause of Repeal by registering votes
in Green Street, than registering fire-arms in the Head-
Police Office. Conciliation Hall on Burgh Quay is
more impregnable than a rebel camp on Vinegar Hill ;
and the hustings at Dundalk will be more successfully
stormed than the magazine in the park. The registry
club, the reading-room, the hustings, these are the
only positions in the country we can occupy. Voters'
certificates, books, reports, these are the only weapons
we can employ. Therefore, my lord, I do advocate
the peaceful policy of this Association. It is the only
policy we can adopt. If that policy be pursued with
truth, with courage, with fixed determination of purpose,
I firmly believe it will succeed. But, my lord, I dis-
sented from the resolutions before us, for other reasons.
I stated the first — ^now I come to the second. I dis-
sented from them, for I felt that, by assenting to them,
I should have pledged myself to the unqualified re-
pudiation of physical force in all countries, at all times,
and in every circumstance. This I could not do ; for,
my lord, I do not abhor the use of arms in the vindica-
tion of national rights. There are times when arms
will alone suffice, and when political ameliorations call
for a drop of blood, and many thousand drops of blood.
Opinion, I admit, will operate against opinion. But,
as the honomrable member for Kilkenny observed,
force must be used against force. The soldier is proof
against an argument, but he is not proof against a
36 MEAGHER OF THE SWORD
bullet. The man that will listen to reason, let him be
reasoned with ; but it is the weaponed arm of the
patriot that can alone avail against battalioned despot-
ism. Then, my lord, I do not disclaim the use of arms
as immoral, nor do I beheve it is the truth to say,
that the God of heaven withholds his sanction from the
use of arms. From that night in which, in the valley
of Bethulia, He nerved the arm of the Jewish girl to
smite the drunken tyrant in his tent, down to the hour
in which He blessed the insurgent chivahry of the
Belgian priests, His Almighty hand hath ever been
stretched forth from His throne of light, to consecrate
the flag of freedom — ^to bless the patriot sword. Be
it for the defence, or be it for the assertion of a nation's
liberty, I look upon the sword as a sacred weapon.
And if, my lord, it has sometimes reddened the shroud
of the oppressor — ^like the anointed rod of the high
priest, it has, as often, blossomed into flowers to deck
the freeman's brow. Abhor the sword ? Stigmatise
the sword ? No, my lord, for in the passes of the
TjTTol it cut to pieces the banner of the Bavarian, and
through those cragged passes cut a path to fame for
the peascmt insurrectionist of Innsbruck. Abhor the
sword ? Stigmatise the sword ? No, my lord, for
at its blow, and in the quivering of its crimson light
a giant nation sprang up from the waters of the
Atlantic, and by its redeeming magic the fettered
colony became a daring, free Republic. Abhor the
sword ? Stigmatise the sword ? No, my lord, for it
swept the Dutch marauders out of the fine old towns
of Belgium — swept them back to their phlegmatic
swamps, and knocked their flag and sceptre, their
laws and bayonets, into the sluggish waters of the
Scheldt. My lord, I learned that it was the right of
a nation to govern itself — not in this Hall, but upon
J HE SWORD 37
the ramparts of Antwerp. This, the first article of a
nation's creeds I learned upon those ramparts, where
freedom was justly estimated, and where the possession
of the precious gift was purchased by the effusion of
generous blood. My lord, I honour the Belgians, I
admire the Belgians, I love the Belgians for their
enthusiasm, their courage, their success, and I, for
one, will not stigmatise, for I do not abhor, the means
by which they obtained a Citizen King, a Chamber of
Deputies. [Here John O'Connell interposed to prevent
Meagher being further heard, and the Young Irelanders
in a body quitted Conciliation Hall for ever].
Ireland and America
Speech at the Banquet to the Officers of the
American Relief Ships, 1846.
Mr. Chairman and Gentlemen, — I almost hesitate to
thank you for the high honour you have conferred upon
me, in requesting me to speak to the health of the Ladies
of America, for in doing so, you have imposed upon me
a very serious task. This I sincerely feel
In this assembly, every political school has its teachers
— every creed has its adherents — and I may safely say,
that this banquet is the tribute of United Ireland to the
representative of American benevolence. Being such,
I am at once reminded of the dinner which took place
after the battle of Saratoga, at which Gates and Bur-
gojme — ^the rival soldiers — sat together. Strange scene !
Ireland, the beaten and the bankrupt, entertains
America, the victorious and the prosperous ! Stranger
still I The flag of the Victor decorates this hall —
decorates our harbour — ^not, indeed, in triumph, but
in sympathy — ^not to commemorate the defeat, but to
predict the resurrection, of a fallen people ! One thing
is certain — ^we are sincere upon this occasion. There
is truth in this compliment. For the first time in her
career, Ireland has reason to be grateful to a forergn
power. Foreign power, sir ! Why should I designate
that country a " foreign power," which has proved
itself our sister country ? England, they sometimes
say, is our sister coimtry. We deny the relationship —
we discard it. We claim America as our sister, and
38
IRELAND AND AMERICA 39
claiming her as such, we have assembled here this
night. Should a stranger, viewing this brilliant scene,
inquire of me, why it is that, amid the desolation of
this day — ^whilst famine is in the land — ^whilst the
hearse-plumes darken the summer scenery of the
island — whilst death sows his harvest, and the earth
teems not with the seeds of life, but with the seeds of
corruption — should he inquire of me, why it is, that,
amid this desolation, we hold high festival, hang out
our banners, and thus carouse — I should reply, ' Sir,
the citizens of Dublin have met to pay a compliment
to a plain citizen of America, which they would not
pay — ' no, not for all the gold in Venice ' — ^to the minister
of England." Piorsuing his inquiries, should he ask,
why is this ? I should reply, " Sir, there is a country
lying beneath that crimson canopy on which we gaze
in these bright evenings — a country exulting in a
vigorous and victorious youth — a coimtry with which
we are incorporated by no Union Act — a country from
which we are separated, not by a little channel, but by
a mighty ocean — and this distant coimtry, finding that
our island, after an affiliation for centuries with the
most opulent kingdom on earth, has been plunged into
the deepest excesses of destitution and disease — and
believing that those fine ships which, a few years since,
were the avenging angels of freedom, and guarded its
domain with a sword of fire, might be entrusted with a
kindlier mission, and be the messengers of life as they
had been the messengers of death — guided not by the
principles of political economy, but impelled by the
holiest passions of humanity — ^this young nation has
come to our rescue, and thus we behold the eagle —
which, by the banks of the Delaware, scared away the
spoiler from its offspring — we behold this eagle speeding
across the wave, to chase from the shores of Old Dun-
40 MEAGHER OF THE SWORD
leary the vulture of the Famine." Sir, it is not that
this is an assembly in which all religious sects and
political schools associate — ^it is not that this is a
festive occasion in which we forget our differences, and
mingle our sympathies for a common country — it is
not for these reasons that this assembly is so pleasing
to me. I do not urge my opinions upon any one. I
speak them freely, it is true, but I trust without offence.
But I tell you, gentlemen, this assembly is pleasing to
me, because it is instructive. Sir, in the presence of
the American citizens, we are reminded by what means
a nation may cease to be poor, and how it may become
great. In the presence of the American citizens, we
are taught, that a nation achieving its liberty acquires
the power that enables it to be a benefactor to the
distressed communities of the earth. If the right of
taxation had not been legally disputed in the village of
Lexington — if the Stamp Act had not been constitu-
tionally repealed on the plains of Saratoga — America
would not now possess the wealth out of which she
relieves the indigence of Ireland. The toast, moreover,
to which you have invited me to speak, dictates a noble
lesson to this country. The ladies of America refused
to wear English manufacture. The ladies of America
refused to drink the tea that came taxed from England.
If you honour these illustrious ladies, imitate their
virtue, and be their rivals in heroic citizenship. If
their example be imitated here, I think the day will
come when the Irish flag will be hailed in the port of
Boston. But if, in the vicissitudes to which all nations
are exposed, danger should fall upon the great Republic,
and if the choice be made to us to desert or befriend
the land of Washington and Franklm, I, for one, will
prefer to be grateful to the Samaritan, rather than be
loyal to the Levite.
The O'Connellites
Speech in the Rotunda, December 2nd, 1846.
Sir, it is a righteous duty to instruct the slave, but
it is a proud privilege to address the freeman. That
privilege I now enjoy, I avail myself of it to vindicate
my character, that I may hereafter be of service to my
country. With that view my friends have come here
to-night, and I trust not in vain. Here, in this splendid
hall, on the first anniversary of the Richmond im-
prisonment, did we assemble, clad in the uniform of
the Irish nation ; and here, before the civic repre-
sentatives of our chief cities, and the patriot members
of the legislature, did we vow that we would never
desist from seeking a Repeal of the Legislative Union
by all peaceable, moral and constitutional means,
until a parliament was restored to Ireland. That is
the vow of the Rotunda. Public men have charged
us with the violation of that vow. We have met here
to answer the charge. Weak, indeed, would be our
efforts to serve this land, if suspicion rested on those
efforts, and if the people whom we ambition to emanci-
pate, we tutored to distrust us. Slanders imanswered
become destructive. The silence of the slandered gives
them force and currency, and in time they are accepted
as truths because they have not been denounced as
falsehoods. Submit to the slander and you fall — ^meet
it boldly, beat it back with a strong hand and you save
your character and preserve your influence. Anxious
for the confidence of the country, that we may be able
to act efficiently with the country — for where there is
41
^2 MEAGHER OF THE SWORD
no trust there will be no co-operation — ^we state our
opinions distinctly that the country, thinking for
itself, may judge us rightly. For my part I consider
myself exceedingly fortunate in being thus permitted
to resume my interrupted speech. I hope we are not
going to have a similar interruption here to that in
Conciliation Hall. Some say I have much to answer
for. The guilt of the physical force debate has been
exclusively attached to me. Mr. Lawless, for instance,
at a meeting of his constituents, shortly after his
election, censured me for having introduced it. What
are the facts ? On the 13th of July the " peace
resolutions " were moved by Mr. O'ConneU. The same
day the report on the Dungarvan Election was brought
up. I spoke to that report — I did not speak to the
resolutions. I merely stated that as they embodied
an abstract principle of which I could not approve, I
was compelled to dissent from them. They were then
put from the chair and carried. The following Monday
there was not the slightest controversy upon the
question of the " forces." The meeting passed over
quietly. I made a few observations, I recollect, to
the effect that although there were some letters read
that day which were most offensive to me personally,
and to those with whom I had been identified, I would
prove my anxiety for the cause by not replying to them
as they deserved, and join my friend Mr. Mitchel in
his earnest prayer that all dissensions in that Hall
should from thenceforth cease. Mr. O'Neill cordially
concurred in those sentiments and stated he was
convinced that no member of the Association intended
to advocate the insane principle of physical force.
On the 23rd July, Mr. John O'ConneU arrives from
London for the express purpose as stated on the follow-
ing Monday, the 27th, of bringing the matter to an
THE O'CONNELLITES 43
issue. Mark this. The question that was decided by
the Association on the 13th is re-opened by Mr. John
O'Connell on the 27th, for the express purpose of
drawing a " marked distinction between Young and
Old Ireland." Sir, that line has been too deeply
drawn and this meeting attests the fatal success of
those who felt it to be their duty to divide. Mr. John
O'Connell entered fully into the question of the " forces "
and provoked discussion, if he did not invite it. To
justify his abhorrence of the sword as an agent of
political amelioration he cited the social disorders of
America, of France, of Belgium, the liberties of which
countries had been won by the sword. I fully con-
curred in his condemnation of the sword, as an instru-
ment unfitted to achieve the independence of Ireland.
I stated this distinctly. But, recollecting that it had
been destructive of despotism in other lands, I refused
to join him in the sweeping condemnation he had made,
and was proceeding to justify my dissent — ^passionately,
I will admit, for who can recount the triumphs of liberty
and not speak in the language of passion ? — ^when Mr.
John O'Connell declared that my sentiments imperilled
the Association and that either he or I should leave
that Hall. Mr. Smith O'Brien protested against this
interruption as an attempt to check the legitimate
expression of an opinion to which he stated, I was not
merely invited, but compelled. Mr. John O'Connell
persisted, usurped the authority of the Chairman,
declared that my language was seditious and insisted
on my not being heard. We had no alternative but to
leave the Hall. We left it— left it in the possession of
those who had invoked the spirit of freedom but to
assail it, who had provoked a discusssion but to violate
the first principle of discussion, who had driven us to
the avowal of our opinions but to misrepresent and
44 MEAGHER OF THE SWORD
abuse those opinions. We left the Hall, sir, convinced
that independent men would not any longer be permitted
to remain there, and trusting to the intelligence of the
country for the vindication of our conduct. We
thought, too, that the Association would in time re
verse the policy which, still continuing, has now arrayed
against it the intellect and the integrity of the country.
With this hope we refrained from the condemnation of
that policy. The Nation, speaking for the seceders,
adopted the language rather of conciliation than
rebuke. Week after week we anxiously waited in
silence for the adjustment of those differences which
had shattered the national assembly and thrown it in
fragments at the feet of the Whig Minister. This
wise adjustment we were led to expect from the speech
delivered by Mr. John O'Connell after we had been
compelled to leave the Hall : " It is no source of
joy to me that we have witnessed this departure.
There cannot be a feeling of triumph — there cannot be
a single pleasurable feeling in my heart at witnessing
the loss to the Association of such a man as Smith
O'Brien, at witnessing the departure of those excellent
men from amongst us. This is not a time to speak,
it is a time to weep. Let us then retire from this
Hall to mourn over the loss we have sustained. Let
us not think of meeting till Monday next when I hope
Mr. O'Connell will be here to repair the breach that
has inevitably occurred." Mr. O'Connell arrives in
town during the week and on Monday, October 5th,
instead of endeavouring to " repair the breach," from
his place in Conciliation Hall he arraigns us as traitors
to Repeal. We are denounced as revolutionists and
charged with having opposed the peace policy of the
Association. How is this charge sustained ? It is
sustained by the language of Mr. O'Gorman, who stated,
THE O'CONNELLITES 45
on the 13th of July in the presence of Mr. O'Connell,
that " in order that there should be no misconception
on the subject so far as he (Mr. O'Gorman) was con-
cerned he would at once say that he was not at all an
advocate for the use of physical force. As a member
of the Association he was bound by its laws and regula-
tions. One of these was, that its object was not to
be attained by the use of physical force but by moral
means alone." Is the charge sustained by the language
of Mr. Mitchel who stated on the same day in the
presence of Mr. O'Connell that " this is a legally organised
and constitutional society seeking to attain its objects,
as all the world knows, by peaceable means, and none
other. Constitutional agitation is the very basis of it,
and nobody who contemplates any other mode of
bringing about the independence of the country has
any right to come here or to consider himself a fit
member of our Association. I believe, sir, the national
legislative independence of Ireland can be won by
these peaceful means if honestly, boldly and steadily
carried out, and with these convictions I should certainly
feel it my duty, if I knew any member who, either in
this Hall or out of it, either by speaking or writing,
should attempt to incite the people to arms or violence
as a method of obtaining their liberty, while this
Association lasts, to report that member to the com-
mittee and move his expulsion." Is the charge sus-
tained by the language of Mr. Barry, who stated on
the 7th Jime, " that it was perfectly plain to all that
it was the determination of the Association to work
out its object by means of moral force and that alone ? "
Is the charge sustained by the language which I used
on the 28th of July when I distinctly stated that " I
do advocate the peaceful policy of the Association ; it
is the only policy we can and should adopt. If that
46 MEAGHER OF THE SWORD
policy be pursued with truth, with courage, with
stern determination of purpose, I do firmly believe
that it will succeed." Sir, over and over again we
pledge ourselves to the peace policy of the Association
and are ready to do so again if necessary. But it is
in vain. We are opposed to a Whig alUance. We
demand that the Association should pursue the same
policy under the Whig as it did under the Conservative
administration. We insist upon Repeal and not upon
" eleven measures," and are therefore denounced as
revolutionists. Sir, it is my sincere conviction and I
believe it is the growing conviction of the country,
that the leaders of the Association had determined
upon driving us from Conciliation Hall, and that, had
we assented to the " peace resolutions," others would
have been introduced to which we could not with
commonsense subscribe. For instance, they might
have brought in a resolution declaring it contrary to
" faith and morals " to visit the Sultan and rank
apostacy to smoke a chibouc. And if in opposing this
resolution I had ventured to glance at the minarets
of St. Sophia or the legends of the Koran, I would
surely have been voted a renegade from the faith of
my fathers, since for having alluded to the passes of
the Tyrol and the ramparts of Antwerp I have been
arraigned as a rebel. Depend upon it, if we had not
been proclaimed as insurrectionists, we would have
been anathematised as Mussulmen. If the object were
not to drive us from the Hall I can see no other object
in bringing forward those resolutions. It became
necessary, they say, to restate the fundamental rules
of the Association. If this were so, why not restate
them as they were originally framed ? Had this been
done there could have been no dissent. But an abstract
principle is introduced to which we cannot conscien-
THE O'CONNELLITES 47
tiously subscribe, and then confounding the new principle
with the old rule, they charge us with a violation of
the fundamental rule of the Association. Observe
then, how the wise decrees of the Repeal Committee
swell the ranks of the revolutionists. Mr. M'Gee
writes to Mr. Ray for his card, states that he fully
concurs in the principles and policy of moral force and
will say nothing about physical force, as he dislikes
meddling with abstract principles. Mr. Ray forth-
with addresses Mr. M'Gee, " that it appears that he
is not and cannot be a member of the Repeal Associa-
tion." Mr. Haughton whose sympathies are with us,
for I believe they are ever with the cause of truth,
of justice, and of freedom, totally dissents from the
opinions of Young Ireland upon the abstract of physical
force, but disapproves of the mode adopted to repress
those opinions. He has been since convicted of Young
Irelandism, and " by order of the committee " enrolled
in the category of revolution. Three Repeal wardens
of Cappoquin write to Mr. Ray on the 12th of November
stating that having abandoned all hope of a reconcilia-
tion, " in consequence of the language used by Mr.
O'Connell towards Smith O'Brien," they beg to resign
all connection with the Association. Mr. Ray replies
to these gentlemen and intimates to them the loyal
delight of the Association at parting with men who
unquestionably contemplate a resort to arms. ' ' Masters,
I charge you," says Dogberry to the Watchmen — " I
charge you in the prince's name, accuse these men."
" This man said, sir, that John Don, the prince's brother,
was a villain." " Prince John a villain ! why, this is
flat perjury, to call a prince's brother a villain." " I'm
for freedom of discussion," says Mr. SheaLawlor ; " This
is physical force ! " exclaims the committee. " I'm
for the publication of the accounts," intimates Mr.
48 MEAGHER OF THE SWORD
Martin ; " You oppose the peace policy," rejoins Mr.
Ray. " I protest against placehunting," writes Mr.
Brady from Cork ; " Sir, you contemplate a resort to
arms," rejoins the Secretary from Dublin. " We can't
get on without a good cry," hints Mr. Taper to Mr. Tad-
pole. For a dissolution without a cry, as Mr. DTsraeli
observes in the " Taper Philosophy," " was the world
without a sun." Sir, I trust I shall be excused for thus
trifling with the " peace resolutions " and the subsequent
decrees of the Association. But it is as difficult, after
all, to treat these topics seriously as to describe the
characters of a farce with sublimity, and yet there is
true reason to be serious. Through a fatal policy the
most powerful confederacy that ever yet was organised
to win a nation's freedom is broken up, its treasury
exhausted, its influence blasted. Look to the national
movement. Where is the disciplined nerve, the earnest
integrity, the rapid enthusiasm of '43. Look back to
that year — ^your sight is dazzled with the flame— survey
the present, and you shiver before the cloud. What
did we then behold ? a zeal that was almost precipitate
— a pride of country that almost swelled into pre-
sumption. What do we now deplore ? a " peace
policy " that degenerates into indolence, a tameness
that verges on debasement. Whence this relapse,
whence this fall ? It dates from the Hustings of
Dungarvan. Where shall it cease ? Here. So say
we all of us here in the Rotunda — a spot ennobled
by the convention of 1783, sanctified by the vow of
1845. Sir, we impeach the present policy of the
Association, and we impeach it not because we have
become seceders, but because we continue to be Re-
pealers. In doing so we are accused of ingratitude
to an old and illustrious benefactor. The accusation
is a slander. The Catholic Emancipator has secured
4^
Ci5
/ .«^
/
y
;^:?^
^#^^^.^/
A Letter from Meagher
THE O'CONNELLITES 49
our gratitude. The Leader of the Repeal Association has
forfeited our allegiance. This is just, I say. Gratitude
to a benefactor should never degenerate into sub-
serviency, and it is servitude and the worst of servi-
tudes to co-operate when convictions do not coincide.
Catholic Emancipation was indeed too dearly purchased
if the forfeiture of free opinion was the price. The
confederates of the great emancipator we were proud
to be — ^his vassals, never. We ambition to work for
our covmtry, but we shall not work for it in chains.
The nobility of the cause suffers from the debasement
of the advocate. And though he, who was once our
leader, may arraign us for treachery to the country
and use his influence to make that country our assailant,
he shall still command our respect, while the country
shall have our love —
Men and brothers 1 we loved this land
For its beauty, but more for its grief ;
We offered the homage of heart and of hand
To it and its chosen chief.
We offered our hearts with their fiery heat,
Our hands with their youthful glow ;
But never to slavishly lie at his feet
Or be spurned from your ranks as a foe.
Sir, great emergencies demand severe sacrifices, and
the laws of nations, not to say the injimctions of leaders,
have been disobeyed when they stood in the way of
liberty. Be it yours to imitate the example of one
whom the historian has immortalised and the true
patriot most reveres. Two thousand years since,
Pelopidas and Epaminondas stood accused for dis-
obedience of the public orders. Pelopidas with craven
soul, bowed before his accusers, confessed his guilt
and hardly obtained forgiveness. Epaminondas — ^how
50 MEAGHER OF THE SWORD
brilliant, how inspiring is the contrast — exulting in
the act for which he was arraigned, confronted his
accusers and declared he was ready to meet his death
if on his monument would be inscribed — " He wasted
Laconia, the territory of the enemy — ^he united the
Arcadians — ^restored liberty to Greece — and did so
against his country's will." Which of these two men
shall be your model. I should not inquire. I do not
fear that a spirit of servile sycophancy will win you to
the imitation of the former, for I know that a spirit
of heroic honesty will prompt you to the emulation of
the latter. Demanding the independence of your
country you will act the part of independent men —
insisting upon her freedom you will preserve your own.
In this spirit, sir, we impeach the present policy of the
Association and we impeach it because it conflicts with
the policy of '43. We impeach that policy because
it assails the liberty of the press and violates the first
principles of discussion. We impeach that policy
because it affiliates the Repeal Association to an English
faction, and forms an alliance that must vitiate the
energies of the former. The Association encourages
its members to become the stipendiaries of the minister,
and we oppose a license that tends to give strength
to the minister, and produces weakness in the people.
The servant of the minister will cease to be the con-
federate of the people. The hand that has once clutched
the gold of the Treasury will never again be clenched
against the usurpations of the minister. The glare of
the Castle ball-room blinds men to the sins of the
executive. The tongue that has lisped compliments
at the viceregal table will be slow to utter condemnation
from the tribvme of Conciliation Hall. Why, I ask,
is not the minister denounced ? The people starve,
and the career of the minister in this country is tracked
THE O'CONNELLITES 51
by peasants' graves. He patronises the pampered
merchant of his own splendid country — he heeds not
the famished beggar of the bankrupt land. The ships
of the rich London citizen, like winged demons, bear
away on each swelling tide the food of the island, as
if Death had chartered them to drive his ghastly trade,
and yet the minister is not denounced. Is this the
minister with whom we are called upon to coalesce — ^is
this the minister in whose pay it is honourable for the
Irish Nationalist to serve ? Forbid it, Heaven ! Better,
far better, be the poorest artisan that earns his bread
by honest drudgery, than the wealthiest subordinate
of such a minister. Sir, this old system must come
down. Claiming public liberty, we must cultivate
public virtue, and it shall be so. A new generation
begins to act in Ireland — a generation pledged against
aU English alliances, a generation pledged to make
this island a free nation and pledged to do so in
the most clear, straightforward, righteous way. The
events of the day invite us to proceed. Nations that
had for centuries lost their freedom are breaking through
their fetters, and we behold them resuming with youth-
ful vigour their old positions. Italy ! Italy awakes
to a new destiny and from her sculptured sepulchre
Europe hails her dazzling resurrection. The bayonet
of the Austrian will no longer intimidate where once
the sceptre of the Csesars swayed. In the Church of
Saint John Lateran, a wiser and a holier Rienzi has
appeared, and the Roman citizen blesses the new
Tribune as he goes forth from the Vatican to regenerate
and free. On the summit of the Aventine the Temple
of Liberty shall again be reared — ^the laurel shall replace
the ivy on the fragments of the Forum, and whilst the
scholar rears his genius beneath the shadow of its
ancient glories, the future statesmen of this our island
52 MEAGHER OF THE SWORD
will learn from the mitred ruler the purest lessons of
liberality — the wisest measures of reform. Sir, Italy
has ceased to be the mere guard-house of the Austrian
trooper — Ireland must cease to be the fee-farm of the
English jobber. " To God and man we made oath,
that we would never cease to strive until an Irish nation
stood supreme upon this island." These are the solemn
words of one whose noble heart is mouldering beneath
the shroud in the cemetery of Mount Jerome, but the
cold vault has not imprisoned his passionate spirit,
nor shall the glorious mission which he preached to
the young men of Ireland be unfulfilled by us. His
genius breathes and bums beyond the grave, and as it
inspires the present so shall it illuminate the future.
Like him through good report and ill, we will work
on to win the freedom and exalt the character of our
country ; , and though that country may be taught to
curse us for a day — ^though slander be awhile the penalty
which our integrity may incur, and though the aged
hand that ought to beckon us to advance may strive
to beat us back, we shall still press on — faithful, come
what may, to the vow we plighted in this Hall. Death
alone shall crush us — despotism, be it foreign or domestic,
shall not.
Union with England
Speech in the Rotunda at the Opening of the
Irish Confederation, January 13TH, 1847.
Sir, there was a levee at the Castle this morning.
Gentlemen went there to pay their respects to the
representative of royalty : we have met here, this
night, to testify our allegiance to liberty. I will not
inquire which is the more honourable act ; but I think
the latter more useful. Where a court resides a parlia-
ment should sit. A court, without a senate, can do
little for the public good ; it may do much for the
public harm. The court of the province may distribute
favours, and teach a propriety of demeanour. The
senate of the free nation distributes blessings, and in-
spires the community with virtue. Little did the poet
hero of Missolonghi, when he passionately rebuked the
homage that was paid a sceptred profligate in this
city, twenty-five years since — ^little did he imagine
that at this day his words would be so disastrously
fulfilled—
" The Castle still stands, tho' the senate's no more,
And the Famine that dwells on her freedomless crags
Is extending its steps to her desolate shore."
Sir, the Castle has been preserved, whilst the senate
has been destroyed, and the blood and poison in which
it was destroyed have given birth to a hideous famine.
When the English minister introduced the Act of
Union into the English Commons, he did not venture
53
54 MEAGHER OF THE SWORD
to justify his scheme upon the inability of a domestic
parliament to legislate beneficially for Ireland. The
prosperity of the nation — to which Lord Clare, Mr.
Pliuiket, Mr. Grattan, and several other members
bore testimony in the Irish Commons, and to which
Mr. Sheridan and Mr. Burdett bore testimony in the
English Commons — this prosperity was so obvious,
and so distinctly traceable to the efficient legislation
of the Irish parliament, that some other argument,
besides that of incapacity, should be urged for its
destruction. The minister admitted the good that
had been done — admitted the comnierce that had
thriven, the arts that had flourished, the eminent
position that had been attained by the country, with
the wise assistance of her parliament. He did not
charge that parliament with incapacity, for the
evidences of capacity met him in the face. He did
not charge that parliament with the corruption of its
last moments, for his was the hand that planted death
where once the sword of the volunteer had infused
vitality. He did not charge that parhament with
those grievous defects which impaired its character,
but which, we must assert, were rather the defects of
the age than the defects of the institution. No ; he
advanced a more serious charge, and appealed from the
virtue to the avarice of the people. The Irish parha-
ment was arraigned for standing between the people of
Ireland and the blessings of English connection. " You
have prospered," said the minister, " under a native
parliament. Accept a foreign parliament, and your
prosperity will amaze. Incorporate the countries, and
you incorporate their interests. Participate in the
imperial labours, and you participate in the imperial
profits. Recognise London as your chief city, and
your nobility will be identified with the proudest
UNION WITH ENGLAND 55
patricians in Europe. Consolidate the exchequers,
and in the periods of distress which, through the
dispensations of heaven, await all nations, you will
experience the munificence of the empire. ConsoUdate
the exchequers, and you will revel in the treasures
of the colonies. Consolidate the exchequers, and you
will feast with us upon the spoils of India. You now
stand alone. You require a guardian. The ambition
of France will drive her bayonets against your shore,
and the Island will be gazetted as the property of the
stranger. Unite with us, and you may defy the Corsican
— ^unite with us, and you may defy the world — unite
with us, and as we ascend to a height on which the
Roman soldier never trod, from which the Spanish
merchant never gazed, you will accompany us in our
flight, and the states that will bend in recognition of
our power, will admire your wisdom, and be dazzled
with your wealth." Sir, in what year, since the
enactment of the Union, will the disciples of William
Pitt find the fulfilment of that promise ? In 1801,
when the English parliament visited this country with
an Insurrection Act ? In 1803, when that parliament
imposed a martial law ? In 1807, when the Insurrec-
tion Act of 1801 is renewed, continuing in force until
1810 ? In 1814, when, for a third time, the Insurrec-
tion Act of 1801 is renewed, and inflicted up to 1824 ?
In 1836, when the Lord High Chancellor of England
spurns you as aliens in language, in religion, and in
blood ? In 1839, when you claimed equal franchises
with the people of England, and are denied them by
the Whig Secretary for Ireland ? In 1843, when a
minister of the crown declares that concession has
reached its limits, and an assassin proclamation
proscribes your right of petition ? In 1846, when the
Coercion Bill is levelled against your liberties, and the
56 MEAGHER OF THE SWORD
Arms' Act is re-introduced by the Whigs ? Tell me-— is
it fulfilled in 1847, when the Treasury confiscates the
Island, and famine piles upon it a pyramid of coffins ?
A lie ! exclaims the broken manufacturer. A lie !
protests the swindled landlord. A he ! a lie ! shrieks
the skeleton from the putrid hovels of Skibbereen.
" Depend upon it," said Mr. Bushe, speaking of the
Act of Union, in the Irish Commons — " depend upon
it, a day of reckoning will come — posterity will over-
haul this transaction." Sir, the day of reckoning has
come^-posterity overhauls the base transaction ! The
right which national pride had not the virtue to
dictate — ^the right which national enterprise had not
the spirit to demand — a national calamity has now
the fortunate terror to enforce. Heretofore, the right
of self-government was claimed as an instrument to
ameliorate ; now it is claimed as an instrument to
save. Heretofore, it was claimed that the people
might be gifted with the franchise ; now it is claimed
that the people may have the privilege of bread. We
demand from England this right. We demand the
restoration of our parliament, and we demand it, not
as a remote, but as an immediate measure. It is the
only true measure of relief. The pestilence came from
heaven, but the inability of the country to mitigate
that pestilence we ascribe to the avarice of man.
England, in her lust of empire, has deprived us of
those large means, that social wealth, that manufacturing
capital, which would have enabled our country to meet
the necessities of this dark crisis. The Union, as you
have been often told, has wrought the ruin of your
trade, your manufactures, your arts. It has sanctioned
if it has not compelled, absenteeism. It has beggared
the mechanic. It now starves the peasant. It has
destroyed your home market. It has taken from you
UNION WITH ENGLAND 57
the power to devote the resources of the country to
the wants of the people. You have no control over
these resources. They are forbidden fruit. You dare
not touch them. If this be not so, why is your export
trade so flourishing, whilst your import trade expires ?
If this be not so, how comes it that the absentee crams
his coffer, whilst the sexton fills the churchyard ?
If this be not so, how comes it that your city quays
are thronged, whilst the village street is desolate ?
If this be not so, how comes it that whilst the merchant
ship bears away the harvest from your shore, the parish
bier conveys the reaper to his grave ? Sir, England
has bound this Island hand and foot. The Island is
her slave. She robs the Island of its food, for it has
not the power to guard it. If the Island does not break
its fetters England will write its epitaph. Listen to
a few facts. I hold in my hand a statement of Irish
exports from the ist of August to the ist of January.
From this statement you will perceive that England
seizes on our food, whilst death seizes on our people :
Total export of provisions from the ports of Waterford,
Cork, Limerick, and Belfast, from ist August, 1846,
to the 1st January, 1847 = Pork, barrels, 37,123 ;
bacon, flitches, 222,608 ; butter, firkins, 388,455 ; hams,
hhds., 1,971 ; beef, tierces, 2,555 ; wheat, barrels,
48,526 ; oats, barrels, 443,232 ; barley, barrels, 12,029 ;
oatmeal, cwts., 7,210 ; flour, cwts., 144,185 ; pigs,
44,659 ; cows, 9,007 ; sheep, 10,288. Yet, this is
what the English economist would designate the
prosperity of Ireland. From this table Lord Monteagle
would expatiate upon the benefits of English connection.
From this table- Mr. Montgomery Martin would prove,
with the keenest precision, the advantages to Ireland
of the legislative Union. From this table Mr. Macaulay
—who threatened us with a civil war in the name of
58 MEAGHER OF THE SWORD
the Whigs, and was answered by the honourable
member for Limerick, as a man who threatened
despotism should be always answered — from this table
Mr. Macaulay would surely conclude that Irish prosperity
was a sound reality — that Irish famine was a factious
metaphor. But, sir, I shall dwell no longer upon this
dismal theme. For a moment let us forget the famine
— " if it be possible, let this bitter cup pass away." It
is difficult, indeed, to close our eyes to the horror. Go
where you will, and you must face it. Go to the church
— in the pulpit it stands beside the priest, and recounts
to him its havoc. Go to the social board, and there it
sits, and chiUs the current of the soul. Amid the
radiant scenery of my native South its shadow faUs
and scares you from the motmtain and the glen. But
you have vowed to win the freedom of your country,
and you must wail no more. The voice of Ireland has
been too sad. Had it been more stern, it would have
been obeyed long since. For the future we must not
supplicate, but demand — ^we must not entreat, but
enforce. We must insist upon the right of this coimtry
to govern itself, with the firmness which the importance
of the right demands, and which the power of our
opponent necessitates. Urge that right on higher
grounds than those on which it has been hitherto
implored. Demand it, not merely to redress wrongs,
but to acquire power. Demand it as the right which
a nation must possess if it ambitions fortune, and
aspires to station. Deprived of this right, the nation
is destitute of self-reliance. Destitute of this great
virtue, the nation has no inward strength, no inherent
influence. Through the bounty of the ruling state it
may exist ; but a nation thus sustained, is sustained
by a hand from without, not by a soul from within.
Should it derive prosperity from this source, the nation.
UNION WITH ENGLAND 59
I maintain, is yet more enslaved. It loses all faith in
its own faculties, and is soothed and pampered into
debasement. The spirit of the freeman no longer acts*
— ^the gratitude of the slave destroys it. Sustained by
the bounty — participating in the civic rights of the
predominant country, it may become a useful appendage
to that country — ^waste its blood for the supremacy of
a Union Flag — gild an Imperial Senate with its pur-
chased genius — ^be visited by the Sovereign, be flattered
by the minister, be eulogised in the journals of the
empire ; but, sir, such a country will have no true
prosperity — ^will occupy no high position — will exhibit
no fine virtues — ^will accomplish no great acts ; it may
fatten in its fetters — it will write no name in history.
" To depend upon the honour of another country, is
to depend upon her will ; and to depend upon the will
of another country, is the definition of slavery." This
was the doctrine of Henry Grattan — ^let it be our motto.
Union with England, for no purpose — union with
England, for no price — union with England, on no
terms ! Let them extend the franchise — reclaim the
waste lands — promote the coast fisheries — ^improve their
drainage acts — ay, let them vote their millions to check
the starvation with which we charge them — ^the Union
Act must be repealed. No foreign hand can bestow
the prosperity which a national soul has the power to
create. No gift can compensate a nation for its liberty.
This was the sentiment of Mr. Foster, who declared
that if England could give up all her revenue, and all
her trade to Ireland, he would not barter for them the
free constitution of his country. This was the senti-
ment of Mr. Plunket when he denounced the Union as
a barter of liberty for money, and pronounced the
nation that would enter into such a traffic, for any
advantage whatsoever, to be criminal and besotted.
6o MEAGHER OF THE SWORD
This was the sentiment of Mr. O'Connell, in 1800, when,
.speaking for the Cathohcs, he declared, that if emancipa-
tion was offered for their consent to the measure, they
would reject it with prompt indignation — that if the
alternative were offered them, of the Union, or the
re-enactment of the penal code in all its pristine horrors,
they would prefer the latter, without hesitation, as
the lesser and more sufferable evil. Sir, we must act
in the spirit of these sentiments. We must rescue the
country from the control of every English minister.
It was our boast, in 1843, that Ireland was the difficulty
of Sir Robert Peel. Let us be just in 1847, ^^^ make it
the difficulty of Lord John Russell. It is time for us
to prefer the freedom of our country to the patronage
of the crown. I firmly believe that Ireland has suffered
more from the subserviency of her sons than from
the dictation of her foes. " Liberal appointments "
have pleased us too much. Amongst us, the Tapers
and the Tadpoles have been too numerous a class —
the patriots who believe that the country will be saved
if they receive from £600 to £1,200 a year. Give me a
resident nobihty, a resident gentry, an industrious
population. Give me a commerce to enrich the country,
and a navy to protect that commerce. Give me a
national flag, to inspire the country with a proper pride,
and a national militia to defend that flag. Give me,
for my country, these great faculties, these great at-
tributes, and I care not who wears the ermine in the
Queen's Bench — I care not who officiates in the Castle-
yard — I care not who adjudicates in the Police Office —
I care not who the high sheriff of the county may be —
I care not who the beadle of the parish may be. If
there be social evils in the country, there will be a
national legislature to correct them ; and even if that
legislature has not the power to correct those evils,
UNION WITH ENGLAND 6l
the blessings which it is sure to confer will more than
counteract them. The resolution I propose will pledge
us to an absolute independence of all English parties,
and exclude from the Irish Confederation any member
of the council who will accept or solicit an office of
emolument under any government not pledged to
Repeal. It gives me sincere delight to move this
resolution. I know you will adopt it — I am confident
you will act up to it boldly. Public men have said
that the cause of Repeal is strengthened by Repealers
taking places. I maintain that the cause is weakened.
The system decimates the ranks. In 1843 where were
the Repealers who assumed the ofi&cial garb after the
movement of 1834 ? Repealers, occupying office, may
not abandon their opinions, but they withdraw their
services. You cannot serve the minister who is pledged
to maintain the Union, and serve the people who are
pledged to repeal it. Will a report on the financial
grievances, inflicted by the Union, accompany a Treasury
minute from London ? Will a Repeal pamphlet issue
from the Board of Works ? The Trojans fought the
Greeks, through the streets of Troy, in Grecian armour.
Will the Repealers fight the Whigs, upon the hustings,
with Whig favours in their pockets ? Recollect the
Union was carried by Irishmen receiving EngUsh gold.
Depend upon it, the same system will not accelerate
its repeal. Sir, we must have an end of this place-
begging. The task we have assumed is a serious one.
To accomplish it well, our energies must have full
play. The trappings of the Treasury will restrict
them more than the shackles of the prison. State
liveries usually encumber men, and detain them at
the Castle gates. Not a doubt of it, sir, we shall work
the freer when we wear no royal harness. To the
accomphshment of this great task we earnestly invite
63 MEAGHER OF THE SWORD
all ranks and parties in the country. It is not the
cause of Radicalism. It is not the cause of Sectarian-
ism. It is the cause of Ireland — a noble cause ! a
cause in which the Irish peer should feel as deeply
interested as the Irish peasant — in which the Irish
Protestant should associate with the Irish Catholic — in
which the Irish Conservative should co-operate with the
Irish Radical. Sir, I will not appeal to the Irish
peer, for I am not his equal. Yet I will tell him, that
to act as the hereditary peer of this ancient kingdom
would be a more honourable distinction than to serve
as an elected peer in the parliament of that country
which has usurped his ancestral right. In England,
where there resides the proudest nobility in the world
— a nobility that would not yield to the Cojitarini of
Venice, to the Colonna of Rome, to the Montmorenci
of France — the Irish peer is a powerless subordinate.
In Ireland, his native land, he would have no superior
in rank ; if he had virtue and ability, he would have
no superior in power. I will not appeal to the Irish
landlord, for I have no land, yet I will tell him, that
he has too long sacrificed the interests of Ireland,
little knowing that by so doing he sacrificed his own,
and that now, to save his property, he must save the
country — ^to save the country he must assert her
freedom. But, sir, I will appeal to the Irish Pro-
testant who stands aloof, for I am his brother. Let
not the altar stand between us and our freedom. Let
not the history of the past be the prophecy of the
future. Even in that history his eye will glance on
brighter chapters than those which record the defence
of Derry, or the triumph of Aughrim. On the 4th day
of November, 1779, the Protestant Volunteers of this
city and county met in College Green and piled their
arms round the statue of King Wilham. They met
UNION WITH ENGLAND 63
round the statue of that king whom the Irish Pro-
testant has been vainly taught to worship, and the
Irish Catholic wantonly to execrate — they met round
that statue, not to revive the factions of the Boyne —
not that the waters of that river should sweep away
again the shattered banner of the Catholic — but that
those waters might float for ever the commerce of a
free nation. Protestant citizens ! cultivate the fine
virtues of that period ; embrace the faith of which
Molyneux was the bold apostle ; renounce the supremacy
of England ; abjure the errors of provincialism. Let
not the dread of Catholic ascendancy deter you. If
such an ascendancy were preached, here is one hand
at least that would be clenched against it. Yes, here
are four thousand arms to give it battle. And now I
will appeal to the young men of Ireland — for I am one
of that proscribed class. A noble mission is open to
them — ^let them accept it with enthusiasm, and fulfil
it with integrity. If they do so, the independence of
the nation will be restored, and they themselves shall
win a righteous fame. A free nation will vote them to
her senate in their maturer years, and when they die,
upon their tombs will be inscribed that nation's gratitude.
Let not the sneers of those in whose hearts no generous
impulse throbs, in whose minds no lofty purpose dwells,
deter them from the task. Men who have grown selfish
amid the insincerities of society, who have grown
harsh from the buffets of the world, will bid them mind
their business — ^their profession. Sir, our coimtry is
our dearest object — to win its freedom is our first
duty. It is not the decree of heaven, I believe, that
the syinpathies of the young heart, the abihties with
which most young minds are gifted, should be narrowed
to the trade we follow, the profession we pursue. These
sympathies are too large, these abilities too strong, to
64 MEAGHER OF THE SWORD
be narrowed to the purposes of a sordid egotism.
These sympathies, these abilities, were so conferred
that they might embrace the Island, and be the ramparts
of its liberty. To us the God of heaven has thus been
good, not that we should " crawl from the cradle to
the gr^ve," doing nothing for mankind, but that we
should so act as to leave a memory behind us for the
good to bless, and the free to glorify. Sir, were I to
rely upon the effect which my words might have, I
should indeed despair. Youth, which brings with it
an energy to act, seldom confers authority ; and if the
appeals which its enthusiasm dictates sometimes have
the fortune to move, it more frequently happens that
the rashness, of which it is susceptible, has the effect
to deter. But the revolution of opinion, which now
shakes society in Ireland, gives me true hope. " I
believe that Ireland will soon be called upon to govern
herself," said Mr. Delmege in the Music Hall. " Ireland
shall govern herself " — so insists this meeting. Sir,^
you who are the descendant of an Irish king — go to
the English Commons, and tell the English Commons
what you have seen this night — ^tell the English Commons,
that in this Hall — a spot sacred to the people of Ireland,
for here, in 1783, the Convention sat, with a mitred
reformer at its head — sacred to them, for here, in 1845,
their civic chiefs made solemn oath that the independence
of this country should be restored — sacred to them, for
here, in 1847, has been estabUshed the sanctuary of
free opinion ; tell the English Commons, sir, that here
four thousand citizens assembled on this night to decide
the destiny of the Union. Tell the English Commons,
that these citizens decide that the destiny of the Union
shall be the destruction of the Union. Should the
minister ask you why is this, tell the minister that the
1 Smith O'Brien.
•V-
y^^'^^f^!^ /^>9^!5«ie=' y^S^Ulf^^^^:^
5^
^
Autographs of the State Prisoners in Clonmel Gaol
UNION WITH ENGLAND 65
Union sentences the country to ruin, and that the
country will not submit to the sentence. Should the
minister assure you, that, for the future, there shall be
a fair Union, and not a false Union — " a real Union,
and not a parchment Union " — tell the minister that
we shall have no Union, be it for better or for worse.
Tell the minister, sir, that a new race of men now act
in Ireland — men who will neither starve as the victims,
nor serve as the vassals of the British Empire. Have
I spoken your sentiments — ^have I announced your
determination truly ? Yes, the spirit that nerved the
Red Hand of Ulster — the spirit that made the walls
of Limerick impregnable, and forced the conquerors
of the Boyne to negotiate by the waters of the Shannon
— ^the spirit that dictated the letters of Swift and the
instructions of Lucas — the spirit that summoned the
armed missionaries of freedom to the altar of Dun-
gannon, and gave to Charlemont the dignity which his
accomplishments would never have attained — the
spirit that touched with fire the tongue of Grattan, and
endowed his words with the magic of his sword — ^the
spirit that sanctified the scaffold of the Geraldine, and
bade the Ijrre of Moore vibrate through the world —
the spirit that called forth the genius of Davis from the
cloisters of Old Trinity, and which consecrates his
grave — ^the spirit that at this day, in the city of the
Pontiff, unfurls the flag of Sarsfield, and animates the
Irish sculptor as he bids the marble speak the passion
of the Irish Tribune — the spirit which defied at Mallow,
and vowed at Mullaghmast — ^this spirit which the
bayonet could not drive back — ^which the bribe could
not satiate — ^which misfortune could not quell — ^is
moving vividly through the land. The ruins that
ennoble, the scenes that beautify, the memories that
illuminate, the music that inspires our native land.
66 MEAGHER OF THE SWORD
have preserved it pure amid the vicious factions of the
past, and the venal bargains of later years. The
visitation that now storms upon the land has stung
into generous activity. Did public virtue cease to
animate, the Senate House which, even in its desecrated
state, lends an Italian glory to this metropolis, would
forbid it to expire. The temple is there — ^the creed
has been announced — ^the priests will enter and oihciate.
It shall be so. The spirit of Nationality, rooted in
our hearts, is as immovable as the altar of the Druid,
pillared in our soil.
Whiggery and Famine
Speech at the Galway Election, Feb. 12th, 1847.
Gentlemen, I have come here to protest against the
government of England, for which government you
have • been solicited to vote this day» The struggle
ijegun this morning upon the hustings of your old
town, is not a struggle between two men — ^it is a struggle
between two countries. On the one side — ^the side of
the Whig candidate — Changs the red banner, beneath
which your senate has been sacked, your commerce
has been wrecked, your nobility have been dishonoured,
your peasantry have been starved. On the other side
— ^the side of the Repeal candidate — floats the green
flag, for which the artillery of 1782 won a legitimate
respect — ^beneath which your senate sat, your commerce
thrived, your nobility were honoured, your peasants
prospered. Until the last three years that flag has
been deserted by us. With the tameness of slaves
we submitted to its proscription. We saw it torn
from our merchant ships, and whilst we lacked the
ability to guard it upon the seas, we had not the virtue
to guard it upon the hustings. Everywhere the
supremacy of the red flag was recognised by us —
recognised by us, whether it was borne by the military
or the political agent of England. What difference, I
will ask, did it make that it was sometimes decorated
with the insignia of the Whigs ? Decorated with the
blue ribbon of the Pitt or the buff ribbon of the Fox
school, it ^yas still the same cursed testimony of foreign
mastership — still the same crimson scrpll on which our
67
68 MEAGHER OF THE SWORD
incapacity for business was set forth, and the terms of
our base apprenticeship were engrossed. Year after
year were we content to be the sutlers of Enghsh
faction — content to echo back the cant and clamour of
English Radicalism. At one time blessing a Reform
Bill, as if it gave us political power ; at another time
rushing after the glittering equipage of a Whig viceroy,
as if his smiles were productive of manufactures, and
his liberal appointments had been the precursors of
national institutions. All this time we forgot, that,
for the nation to exist, the nation should have its arts,
its fisheries, its manufactures, its commerce ; and that
a franchise bill, corporate reform acts, liberal appoint-
ments, and so forth, are of very little importance com-
pared to bread for the million. Doubtless, there were
some excellent innovations at the Castle about this
time, for St. Patrick's Hall was no longer shut to the
Catholic barrister. The ermine, too, had ceased to
be the sacred monopoly of Protestantism. The Catholic
and Protestant became equally entitled to it, and,
with the police uniform, it was made common to both.
The hall of the Four Courts rang with the praises of
Normanby, and the statue of Justice which decorates
that hall was pronounced by the best judges to be the
very image of Russell. Public dinners were frequently
held, and the people of Ireland were congratulated on
the tranquillity of the country, and the promotion of
able demagogues to power. The people heard the
toasts that were shouted at those dinners — heard the
selfish canticles of faction — heard that the salvation of
Ireland was identical with the liberal disposal of silk
gowns — heard that the elevation of Ireland would be
accomplished by the elevation of noisy democrats to
office — ^the people heard these things, and believed that
their freedom was at hand. They believed so, for they
WHIGGERY AND FAMINE 69
had not as yet looked well into the country, and saw
what was really wanting there. But 1843 came, and a
voice from Tara bade the people organise for liberty.
On the site of the Irish monarchy, the spell of a factious
vassalage was broken — ^provincialism was abjured —
nationality was vowed. In that year, you, the citizens
of Galway, pledged yourselves to devote every effort
to the attainment of Irish independence. You organised
— and in your foremost rank shone the coronet of the
Ffrenches, with the mitre of St. Jarlath's. You con-
tributed to the exchequer of the movement ; your
merchants opened their coffers ; your artisans — and I
see many of them here to-night — coined the sweat of
their brows into gold, and offered it up as the ransom
of our liberties. Then came the 30th of May, 1845,
and you sent your Town Commissioners to the Rotunda,
where the chiefs of the national movement received the
homage of the people. That was no false homage — it
was sincere — for the men who offered it aspired to
freedom. On that day your representatives pledged
themselves on your behalf — now mark the words ! —
that corruption should not seduce, nor deceit cajole,
nor intimidation deter you from seeking the attainment
of a national legislature. Gentlemen, the time has
come to redeem that vow. This struggle will test
your truth, your purity, your heroism. Your honour
is at stake — ^your integrity is in question— your character
is on trial. Vows can be easily made. Expediency
may advise them — enthusiasm may dictate them.
The difficulty and the virtue is to fulfil them. When
that vow was made, did you not hear the jeering
prophecy, that it would eventuate in a solemn false-
hood ? Did you not hear it said that you had neither
the intention nor the integrity to redeem that vow —
that you might threaten, but dare not strike ? It was
70 MEAGHER OF THE SWORD
said so in London — it was said so in Chesham Place —
it was said so in Dublin : let me tell you it is so written
in the predictions of the Castle. Will you vilely verify
the anticipations of Chesham Place — ^will you basely
authenticate the predictions of the Castle ? Re-
nounced by Cashel — ^threatened in Wexford — supplanted
in Dundalk — ^routed from Mayo — ^What 1 shall the
refugees of Whiggery find in Galway a spot where, at
last, the gold of the Cabinet will contaminate the virtue
of the people ? I ask you, what will be the result of
this election ? Shall Galway be a slave market ?
Shall this ancient Irish town be degraded into an English
borough ? — and will you, its citizens, sacrifice your
principles and your name, embrace provincialism, and
henceforth exult in the title of West Britons ? I
should apologise for thus addressing you — or rather,
you should bid me cease, and indignantly assert that,
come what may, no Whig official shall ever testify
your recreancy in the Senate House of England. Why
should it be otherwise ? Since 1845, your opinions,
surely, have not changed ? If so, what has changed
them ? The famine ? The prompt ' benevolence of
the English government ? The generosity of the
English Commons ? What imperial proselytiser has
seduced you from the cause, in the defence of which,
in 1843, you would have passionately bled? The
prompt benevolence of the Enghsh government ?
How has this been manifested ? In the timely suspen-
sion of the navigation laws ? In the establishment of
corn depots ? In the prohibition of the export of
Irish produce ? By the summoning of parliament in
November ? Bear this in mind — ^whilst the peasants
have perished, without leaving a coin to purchase a
winding sheet, the merchants have bought their purple
and fine linen with their famine prices, for the English
WHIGCERY AND FAMINE 71
market should be protected — thus, the English econo-
mists have ruled it. In the blasted field, beneath the
putrid crop, the merchant has sunk a shaft and found
a gold mine, for the English minister would not in-
convenience the trade of Liverpool and London. And
is it the servant of this minister whom you will support ?
If you prefer a bribe to freedom — if you prefer to be
the Swiss guard of a foreign minister, rather than be
the National guard of a free kingdom, vote for him, and
be dishonest and debased. Vote for the Whig candidate,
and vote for provincialism. Vote for the Whig candi-
date, and vote for alien laws. Vote for the Whig
candidate, and vote for a civil war before Repeal — for
that is the Whig alternative. Vote for the Whig candi-
date, and vote for economy and starvation. Vote for
him — ^vote for him — and then cringe back to your homes,
and there thank God that you have had a country to
sell ! Have you nerved your souls for this crime ?
Beware of it ! I will not tell you that the eyes of the
nation — ^the eyes of Europe are upon you. That is
the cant of every hustings. But this I tell you, there
are a few men yet breathing in Skibbereen, and their
death-glance is upon you. Vote for the Whig candi-
date, and their last shriek will proclaim that you have
voted for the pensioned misers who refused them
bread. There is a place, too, called Schull, in the coimty
Cork, the churchyard of which place — as a tenant told
his landlord the other day — ^is the only red field in the
wide, wide county. There are eyes, wild with the
agonies of hunger, looking out from that fell spot upon
you, and if you vote against your native land, the
burning tongue of the starving peasant will froth its
curse upon you, and upon your children. Gentlemen,
I have now done, and I fear not for you, nor for the
country. I believe there is in Galway the virtue to
72 MEAGHER OF THE SWORD
preserve the honour of its citizens — the virtue to
assert the liberty of the country. What, though it
cost you even serious sacrifices — ^what though you gain
nothing, at this moment, by your honest votes, save
the blessing of a tranquil conscience and a proud heart
— still be true to the faith and glory of Henry Grattan.
Fling aside — trample under foot — the bribes and
promises of Russell. Be true to the principles of 1782
— ^be true to the resolutions of 1843 — ^be true to the
vow of 1845 — and with pure hands, with hands un-
stained by the glittering poison of the English Treasury,
amid the graves and desolation of 1847, ^^.y the founda-
tions of a future nation.
Irish Slaves and English Corruption
Speech Delivered at the Galway Election,
February 14TH, 1847.
Gentlemen, you saw the men who voted for the
Whig candidate on Saturday. Did they advance to
the hustings like men who felt they had a country,
and were conscious that their votes would be recorded
for her liberty ? No, they went there like slaves — in-
sensible to the dictates of patriotism — insensible to its
thrilling invocations for redress. The troops, under
the armed guardianship of which they were driven to
utter sentence against the independence of their
country, proclaimed the cause for which their venal
franchise was compelled. Did not the proud escort
that attended the tenants of Lord Clanricarde to the
courthouse proclaim that to the supremacy of England
those venal tenants sacrificed their souls ? The troops
that were arrayed against your right to petition upon
the field of Clontarf were fit companions indeed for the
slaves who were herded together to vote against your
right to legislate. Those men might as well have
voted in manacles. But if their hands were free,
their souls were fettered ; and if they wore not the
garb of convicts, they exhibited all the debasement of
criminals. Yet these men had illustrious models of
depravity — models selected from the brightest page of
Irish history, as some Whig orator would designate
the narrative of the Union. They had Fitzgibbon—
they had Castlereagh — the titled miscreants who pur-
73
74 MEAGHER OF THE SWORD
chased English coronets by the destruction of the Irish
Senate. Castlereagh purchased something else — an
English grave. This, at least, was a privilege to
Ireland — to be exempt from the contamination of the
dust which, when breathing, had drenched our Senate
with corruption and our land with blood. Let England
still claim such treasures, and let no Irish traitor —
no tenant of Clanricarde — rot beneath the soil in which,
the bones of Swift, of Tone, and Davis, have been
laid to rest. Turn from this soiled and revolting
picture, and contemplate the reverse. You saw the
men who voted for the Repeal candidate. Did they
register their votes under the sabres of hussars ? No ;
they voted for their country, and, were, therefore,
under no obligation to the liveried champions of the
English flag. They went up to the hustings like honest
citizens, and were protected, not by the musket of the
soldier, but by the arm of the God of Hosts. Their
souls were as imtrammelled as their limbs, and, recording
their votes, they were distinguished for the manliness
which men who love freedom can alone exhibit. They
voted like men who knew well that the scheme of the
Whigs is to soothe this country into degradation, and
they looked like men who scorned to be soothed for
that purpose — scorned the vile scheme that would
prostrate this country by patronage — scorned the vile
scheme that would perpetuate the Union by making it
prolific in small boons. Men of Galway, to the hustings
on the morrow, in the same gallant spirit. Show no
mercy to these Whigs t Swamp them before the sun
sets, and let the night fall upon the broken flag-staff
and baffled cohorts of the English Minister 1 Let the
Minister hear of his defeat on Wednesday morning,
and curse the virtue that had no price. There must
be no jubilee in Chesham Place at the expense of Irish
ENGLISH CORRUPTION 75
liberty. There must be no delegate from Galway
authorised to sustain the dictation of the English
Commons — authorised to sustain the dictation that
has been assumed to coerce, to enslave, to starve this
country. What will the Commons say when the
SoHcitor-General for Ireland takes his seat on the
Treasury Bench as the Whig member for this borough ?
Will they say that the threat uttered by the Paymaster
of the Forces has forced you to capitulate ? No ; I
do not think they will chargfe you with cowardice, but
I am sure they will arraign you for corruption. They
will say that venality has accomphshed what battalions
could not achieve, and that the money-bags of the
Mint can do more for the English interest in Ireland than
all the batteries of Woolwich. And, let me tell you,
these money-bags have been flung across the Channel
into Galway. Trust me, the Whig Government will
fight this battle to the last farthing. This I sincerely
believe — this I deliberately avow. I am justified in
this belief, for it is notorious that the favourite weapon
of the Whig Government is corruption. It is the boast
of these Whigs that they alone can govern Ireland —
that they can mesmerise the Irish beggars ! Prove to
them that this boast is a falsehood — prove to them
that you will not be governed by them, and that Ireland
shall be their difiiculty and their scourge. What
claims have these Whigs upon us ? None save what
corruption constitutes. Their liberal appointments ?
How do these appointments serve the country ? How
much wealth flows into Ireland by the member for
Dungarvan ^ being Master of the Mint ? Recollect this,
the Whigs voted twenty millions to emancipate the
Africans — ^they refuse to sanction a loan of sixteen
millions to employ the Irish. Vote for their nominee,
' Richard Lalor Sheil,
76 MEAGHER OF THE SWORD
and you will vote against the noble proposition of the
Protectionist leader. And has it come to this that
you will vote for non-employment — for starvation — for
deaths by the minMte, and inquests by the hour. Will
you vote for this Government of economists — this
Government of misers — this Government of grave-
diggers ? Before you do so, read the advertisement
on the walls of the Treasury — " Funerals supplied to
all parts of the country." That is the true way to
tranquillise the country ! That is the true way to
hush the tumult of sedition ! That is the true way to
incorporate the countries, and make the Union binding !
If we do not beat those Whigs out of Galway — if we do
not fight them for every inch of Irish ground — if we do
not drive them across the Channel — they will starve
this country into a wilderness, and, at the opening of
the next session, they will bid their royal mistress
congratulate her assembled Parliament upon the success-
ful government and the peace of Ireland. And they
insist, too, that the executive of this wilderness shall
be a chief of police, a poor-law commissioner, and a
commissary-general. Will you submit to this ? Do
you prefer a soup-kitchen to a custom house ? Do
you prefer graveyards to corn-fields ? Do you prefer
the Board of Works to a national senate ? Do you
prefer the insolent rule of Scotch and English officials
to the beneficent legislation of Irish Peers and Irish
Commoners ? Heaven forbid that the blight which
putrified your food should infect your souls ! Heaven
forbid that the famine should tame you into debase-
ment, and that the spirit which has triumphed over
the prison and the scaffold should surrender to the
corruptio^ist at last 1 I asked you, a moment since,
how much wealth flows into Ireland by the member
for Dungarvan being Master of the Mint ? I must
ENGLISH CORRUPTION yy
tell you this : there is a little stream of it always
dropping through the Castle Yard ; but sometimes
there are extraordinary spring-tides — just about election
times — and then that tide swells and deepens, and
rises so high, and rushes so rapidly, that it frequently
sweeps away the votes of the people— sweeps away
their placards — sweeps away their banners — sweeps
away their committee rooms — and, in the end, throws
up a Whig official upon the white shore of England.
Beware of this spring-tide ; it is sweeping through
Galway this moment — through lane and street. Its
glittering waters intoxicate and debase. The wretches
who drink them fall into the current and are whirled
away — the drenched and battered spoils of England.
And is this the end of all you have vowed and done ?
And has it come to this, that after the defiances, the
resolutions, the organisation of 1843, England shall
plant her foot upon the neck of Ireland and exclaim :
" Behold my bribed and drunken slave ! " I do not
exaggerate. The battle of Ireland is being fought in
Galway. If the Whigs take Galway — Ireland falls.
Shall Ireland fall ? Incur defeat and you shall have
her bitter curse. Win the battle and you shall have
her proud blessing. Your virtue and your victory
will fire the coward and regenerate the venal — your
example will be followed — the Whigs will be driven
from Wexford, from Waterford, from Mallow, from
Dungarvan ; their bribes will be trampled in the dust,
their strongest citadels be stormed ; the integrity of
the people shall prevail against the venality of the
faction, the Union Act shall share the fate of the Penal
Code, and mankind shall hail the birth, the career,
the glory of an Irish nation.
National Politics
Speech in the Music Hall, April 7th, 1847, at
THE Third Meeting of the Irish Confederation.
The proceedings of this night, sir, will, no doubt,
incur the censure of those gentlemen who maintain that
politics have nothing to do with the state of the country.
It will be said by them, that it is heartless to talk about
Repeal when the people require reUei It will be said
by them, that the doctrines of nationality should not
be preached whilst the nation is on its knees, begging
for its bread. Sir, these gentlemen would adjourn the
question of Irish independence, to criticise the " boil
and bubble " of a French cook. They would turn
their backs upon the old parliament house, in College
Green, to dive into the mysteries of the soup kitchen at
Kingsbridge. Yet, sir, I agree with these gentlemen
to a certain extent. Party politics have nothing to
do with the state of the country. " Who is in, and
who is out — ^who has this, and who has that ? " —
these questions have nothing to do with the state of
the country. But national politics have everything
to do with the state of the country, and these we
shall guard and propagate. Gentlemen who tell us
to postpone the question of Repeal, whilst the famine
• is on the wing, dictate a course that would perpetuate
the disease and beggary of the land. They advise a
step that would make the Union Act, in truth, " a
final settlement." They recommend a policy that
\yould violate our vow, disband our forces, and let in
the enemy. Once down, England would keep us down.
78
NATIONAL POLITICS 79
Sir, there must be no pause, no adjournment, no truce.
Repeal is now a question, not so much of political
power, as of actual physical existence. Self-government
has become a question of self-preservation. A national
parliament is the only efificient relief committee that
can be organized — the only one that can have the
wisdom to devise, and the power to carry out, any
measures calculated to save the life and improve the
prospects of this country. The famine has already
done enough for England. It shall not do more. It
shall not do its worst — it shall not force us to capitulate.
What has the famine done for England ? The famine
has been her best recruiting sergeant — it has purchased
thousands into her brilliant and licentious legions. The
famine has been her best miner — it has discovered gold
mines for her merchants in bankrupt cities and de-
populated villages. The famine has been her best
swordsman — it has cut down thousands of her peasant
foes. But there is one spot where this powerful agent
of English lust must halt — one spot where it shall
purchase no recruits — one spot where it shall plant
no cypress and rear no trophy — one spot where it
shall cease to do the business and the butchery of
England. It shall halt — it shall be powerless and
paralysed — ^where the Confederation sits. What say
they in England now ? What says the Times, the
eloquent and mighty organ of English opinion ? " Ire-
land is now at the mercy of England. For the first
time in the course of centuries England may rule
Ireland, and treat her as a thoroughly conquered
country." Ay, Ireland is now at the mercy of England !
Ireland is now a thoroughly conquered country !
England has won her crowning victory ! The war of
centuries is at a close ! The archers of Strongbow
have failed — ^the Ironsides of Cromwell have failed —
8o MEAGHER OF THE SWORD
the spies and yeomen of Castlereagh have failed—
the patronage and proscriptions of Ebrington have
failed — ^the proclamations and state prosecutions of
De Grey have failed — the procrastinations and economy
of Russell have triumphed ! Let a thanksgiving be
preached from the pulpit of St. Paul's — ^let the Lords
and Commons of England vote their gratitude to the
victorious economist — ^let the guns of London Tower
proclaim the triumph which has cost, in past years,
coffers of gold and torrents of blood, and in this year
a wholesale system of starvation to achieve. England !
your gallant impetuous enemy is dead — ^your " great
difficulty " is at an end. Ireland, or rather the remains
of Ireland, are yours at last. Your red ensign flies —
not from the Rath of Mullaghmast, where you played
the cut-throat — ^not from Limerick wall, where you
played the perjurer — ^not from the senate-house, where
you played the swindler — not from the custom-house,
Where you played the robber — ^but it flies from her
thousand graveyards, where the titled niggards of your
cabinet have won the battle which your soldiers could
not terminate. Celebrate your victory ! Bid your
Scourge steamer, from the western coast, convey
some memorial of your conquest, and, in the hall
where the flags and cannons you have captured from
a world of foes are grouped together, let a shroud,
stripped from some privileged corpse — for few have
them now — ^be for its proper price displayed. Stop
not here ! Change your war-crest. America has her
eagle — let England have her vulture ! What emblem
more fit for the rapacious power, whose statesmanship
depopulates, and whose commerce is gorged with
famine prices ? That is her proper signal. It will
commemorate a greater victory than that of Agincourt,
than that of Blenheim, than that of Moodkee. It will
NATIONAL POLITICS 8l
commemorate the victories of SchuU, of Skibbereen, of
Bantry. But, sir, this is a false alarm. Whatever the
monarch journaUst of Europe may say, Ireland, thank
God ! is not down yet. She is on her knees ; but
her withered hand is clenched against the giant, and
she has yet the power to strike. Last year, from the
Carpathian heights, we heard the shout of the PoHsh
insurrectionist — " There is hope for Poland whilst in
Poland there is a life to lose." Sir, there is hope for
Ireland whilst in Ireland there is a life to lose. True
it is, thousands upon thousands of our people have
been swept down, but thousands upon thousands
still survive, and the fate of the dead should quicken
the purpose of the living. The stakes are too high for
us to give up the game, until the last card has been
played — ^too high for us to fling ourselves in despair
upon the coffins of our starved and swindled partners.
A peasant population, generous and heroic, is at stake.
A mechanic population, intelligent and upright, is at
stake. These great classes — that form the very nerve
and marrow of a nation — ^without which a nation cannot
be saved — ^without which there is, in fact, no nation to
be saved — without which a professional class is so much
parchment and powdered horsehair — and a nobility a
mere glittering spectre — these great primary classes
are at stake. Shall these, too, be the spoils of Eng-
land ? Has she not won enough aheady ; has she
not pocketed enough of your money ? And what
she has got, is she not determined to keep ? You
have seen a letter from Mr. Grogan, a few weeks
since, to the Lord Mayor. It appears that England
will ship off the Irish beggars from Liverpool ; she
will not ship off the Irish absentees- from London.
And, tell me, has she not eaten enough of your food,
and has she not broken down enough of your manufac-
82 MEAGHER OF THE SWORD
tures, and has she not buried enough of your people ?
Recount for a moment, a few of your losses. The cotton
manufacture of Dublin, which employed 14,000 opera-
tives, has been destroyed. The 3,400 silk-looms of
the Liberty have been destroyed. The stuff and serge
manufacture, which employed 1,491 operatives, has
been destroyed. The calico-looms of Balbriggan have
been destroyed. The flannel manufacture of Rath-
drum has been destroyed. The blanket manufacture
of Kilkenny has been destroyed. The camlet trade
of Bandon, which produced £100,000 a year, has been
destroyed. The worsted and stuff manufactures of
Waterford have been destroyed. The rateen and
frieze manufactures of Carrick-on-Suir have been
destroyed. One business, alone, survives ! One busi-
ness, alone, thrives, and flourishes, and dreads no
bankruptcy ! That fortunate business — which the
Union Act has not struck down, but which the Union
Act has stood by — ^which the absentee drain has not
slackened, but has stimulated — ^which the drainage
acts and navigation laws of the Imperial Senate have
not deadened, but invigorated — ^that favoured, and
privileged, and patronised business, is the Irish coffin-
maker's. He, alone, of our thousand tradesmen and
mechanics, has benefitted by the Union — ^he, alone,
is safe from the general insolvency — he, alone, has
reason to be grateful to the Imperial Senate — he, alone,
is justified in voting, at the next election, for the
accomplices of the Whig minister of England. Sir,
the fate which the prophet of the Lamentations an-
nounced, three thousand years ago, to the people of
Israel, has come to pass this year in this island of faith,
of genius, and of sorrow : " And I will bring a nation
upon you from far — an ancient nation — a nation of
mighty men, whose quiver is like to an open sepulchre ;
NATIONAL POLITICS 83
and they shall eat up thine harvest and thy bread,
which thy sons and daughters should eat ; and thy
vines and fig trees ; and they shall eat up thy flocks
and thy herds, which thy sons and daughters should
eat ; and they shall impoverish thy fenced cities,
wherein thou trusted." Yet, sir, out of this tribulation
and this woe, there is a path to a brighter fate and a
happier land. The God of Israel and of Ireland never
yet sent a scourge, that He did not send the means
whereby its evils might be alleviated. The same voice
that bid the fiery serpents to the desert, ordained that
an image should be erected there for the chastised to
look to, and be saved ; and the same tongue that
uttered the prophecy I have recited to you, promised
that " the city should be built up — ^that the vines
should grow again upon the mountains of Samaria —
that the song should be heard once more from the
height of Zion — and they who were in captivity and
mourning should sing again with gladness, and shout
among the chief of the nations." Sir, out of our
captivity and mourning we shall surely go forth, if
we truly love this land, and act with the courage which
true love inspires. We must have nothing to do with
these whining counsellors who bid us sound a truce,
retire from the field, visit the sick, and bury the dead.
The minister has committed too many crimes against
this country to have an hour's repose. In this very
hall, a few days since, an honest and an able fellow-
citizen of yours, Mr. Fitzgibbon, distinctly proved,
in a speech of great argumentative power, and great
statistical research, that the present desperate con-
dition of the country was to be ascribed, not to the
ignorance, not to the negligence, not to the mistake of
the minister, but to a downright and deliberate com-
pact of his with the mercantile interest of England,
84 MEAGHER OF THE SWORD
by which the lives of the Irish people were mercilessly
surrendered to the cupidity of the British merchants.
Sir, I know not when, or where the scourge inflicted
by this minister will cease to devastate. Those whom
the famine has spared are flying to the emigrant ships,
and rushing, panic-struck, from the land where Eng-
land has lodged the foundations of her despotism in
the graves of the people. I hold in my hands returns
of the number of emigrants from the ports of Dublin,
Waterford, Limerick, and Cork, for the present season.
Now, it appears from these returns, that, although
the season has only just somewhat commenced — ^that,
although, in fact, one month only of the emigration
season has expired — the number of emigrants from
the above-mentioned ports is nearly treble the number
that left during the entire season in '46. Again, I
must observe that these returns are imperfect — the
emigrants that have sailed from Liverpool, and other
English ports, not being included in them. And the
worst of it all is, that it is not the mere bone and
sinew we are losing in this way, but the only current
capital of the country. Yet, sir, it is almost selfish to
deplore this emigration. Why should we grudge our
generous and heroic peasantry a better home, in a
new country ? Why should we grudge them their
emancipation from English rule ? Why should we
grudge them their hfe, their bread, their liberty ? The
sun, each evening as he passes over the graves of their
fallen brothers, beckons them to follow him, in his
golden track, across the waves, to a land of freedom.
Let them go 1 For a while, at least, let them leave
this island, where England has planted her own beggars,
in the shape of chief secretaries, and poor-law com-
missioners, and archbishops. Let them go to the land
where English law was flung to the four winds— where
NATIONAL POLITICS 85
a young stripling of a colony sprang up, and dashed
an old and sturdy empire to the earth. There they
will be safe from English law, and, therefore, safe
from beggary, from starvation, and from pestilence.
But, sir, we have vowed to remain here, and meet
whatever fate is coming. And now, that thousands
have rotted into the earth which gave them birth —
and now, that thousands are flying from our shores,
that they hiay not tempt the scourge to strike them
— ^we are bound to work the harder — to do double
duty — ^that, at least, the remnant of an old and honour-
able nation may be saved. Sir, we must adopt a policy
suited to these times. We have now to struggle, not
merely against adverse opinions, but against death
itself. The desperate condition of the country demands
a bold and decisive policy. From this hour, sir, let
us have done with the English parliament — on this
very night, sir, let us resolve to close our accounts
with that parliament. Send no more petitions across
the Channel. For fifty years you have petitioned, and
the result has been 500,000 deaths. Henceforth, be
that parliament accursed ! Spurn it as a fraud, a
nullity, a usurpation. Spurn it as such on the authority
of Saurin, who declared that the Union Act was not
obligatory on conscience ; that, in the abstract, re-
sistance to it was a duty ; and the exhibition of that
resistance a mere question of prudence. Spurn it as
such on the authority of Plunket, who declared the
incompetency of parliament to pass the Act of Union
— declared that if such an act should pass it would be
a nullity, and no man in Ireland would be bound to
obey it. Spurn it as such, on the authority of Grattan,
who declared that the competency of parliament to
pass the Act of Union, was the competency of delin-
quency, the competency of abdication, the competency
86 MEAGHER OF THE SWORD
of treason 1 Confederates of Dublin ! you know that
this Imperial Parliament is a fraud, a nullity, a usurpa-
tion. You know it is worse than all this. You know
that it is a curse — a penalty — a plague. You are
knaves if you do not speak your conviction — ^you are
cowards if you do not act as your conviction bids you
act. If you adopt petitions send them to the Queen.
She has a right to wear an Irish crown. We shall
assert that right. She has a right to summon her
Irish Parliament to sit in this city, and, spite of the
disloyal and defrauding minister — spite of the disloyal
and defrauding Commons, who would suspend the
royal functions— we shall boldly and loyally assert
that right. The Irish crown must no longer be a cipher.
The Irish sceptre, and the Irish flag, must cease to be
mere figures of speech — ^they must become empowered
and recognised realities. The members of your Council
have determined, by a recent resolution, to support at
the hustings no candidate for representative honours
who will not pledge himself to an absolute independence
of all English parties — ^who will not pledge himself,
against taking or soliciting, for himself or others, any
office of emolument under any English government
whatsoever. Some gentlemen may say, this is going
too far. I contend it does not go half far enough ; and
I am delighted to find you agree with me in the opinion.
The fact is, we must go much farther. At our next
meeting — I am speaking my own sentiments very
frankly to you, and, of course, no one is responsible
for them but myself — at our next meeting, I think it
would be most advisable for us to adopt a resolution
to this effect : That the members of the Irish Con-
federation shall support, at the hustings, no candidates
for representative honours who will not pledge them-
selves to stay at home, and deliberate in this city and
NATIONAL POLITICS 87
in no place else, upon the best means to save this king-
dom. One circumstance, at least, is favourable to
our pohcy, and assures us of success — the power of the
Whigs is at an end in Ireland. No man now dare
stand up, in an assembly of Irish citizens, to recommend
the " paternal Whigs " to the filial confidence of the
Irish people. The country, thank God, is done with
them for ever. Their patronage will no longer save
them with the people. Their jail deliveries will no
longer save them with the people. Nothing, sir, will
save them with the Irish people. They may have
their command nights at the theatre and they may
bow, and kiss hands, to an enchanted dress circle, and
a gazing pit — ^they may dine at the Mansion House —
take wine, all round, with the Sword Bearer, the Water
Bailiff, the City Marshal, the Town Councillors and
Aldermen of the Reformed Corporation, and drink
the " Prosperity of Old Ireland " to the tune of " Rule,
Britannia, Rule ! " — on the same day that the new
docks at Birkenhead are opened by Lord Morpeth,
they may graciously open, on the Irish side of the
Channel, a Grand Metropolitan Head Soup-Kitchen —
they may furnish a select party of the blind, the crippled,
and the dumb of the Mendicity, with a " guard of
honour," during their experimental repast — ^they may
embellish the beggary of the nation with all the elegance
of the Castle, and all the pageantry of the barrack —
they may make a most glittering display of our most
sickening degradation, and the bugles of their garrison
may summon the fashion of the squares, and the
aristocracy of the clubs, to the coronation of Irish
pauperism, and the final consummation of the Union
— ^nought will avail them. Their fate is decided —
there is a sentence written against them, in the blood
of the people, upon the walls of their council chamber.
88 MEAGHER OF THE SWORD
and many other inquests, besides that of Galway,
have found them guilty of the wilful murder of the
people. And now that we are done with these Whigs —
now that we fully understand what their " compre-
hensive measures " mean — ^what their " ameliorations "
mean — ^what their " political economy " leads to — ^what
their "reductions of 20 per cent." accomplish — ^now
that we are fully convinced that they are the most
complimentary and the most conscienceless — ^the most
promising and the most prevaricating — ^the most
patronising, and the most perfidious — ^the most paternal,
and the most _ murderous — of our English enemies —
now that we have broken, from henceforth and for ever,
from all English parties — now that we shall pest them
no longer with our petitions, nor rack them with our
prayers — now that we hold their Commons, as far as
we are concerned, to be a fraud, a nullity, and a usurpa-
tion — now that we scout it as a penalty, and loathe it
as a plague — ^now, indeed, that, in our souls, we firmly
and passionately believe, that
" Our hope, our strength, is in ourselves alone,"
let us look, with all the anxiety and earnestness which
a last struggle should inspire, into our own country,
and see what power we have there to save its life and
win its freedom. Let us see if we cannot give a few
practical answers to a few of Bishop Berkeley's queries.
Let us see, in fact, if we cannot devise some mode by
which the quiver of this mighty foe, that has come
upon us, shall cease to be like an open sepulchre ;
by which this nation shall keep to itself the harvest,
and the bread, and the flocks, and the herds, which
her sons and daughters should eat, and by which our
fenced cities shall not be impoverished. Sir, I desire
to have this done, not by the isolated power of one
NATIONAL POLITICS 89
great section, but by the aggregate power of all sections
of the Irish community. I desire that the Irish nation
should act, not in divisions, but in one solid square. I
am one of the people, but I am no democrat. I am for
an equality of civil rights — ^but I am no republican.
I am for vesting the responsibilities and the duties of
government in three estates. I think that, in a free
state, an aristocracy is a wise — an ennobling institution.
Like all human institutions, it has its evil suscepti-
bilities ; and the history of aristocracy, like all other
histories, has its chapters of crime and folly. But I
can conceive no state complete without it. It is the
graceful and pictured architrave of the great temple,
sacred to law and freedom, of which the people are the
enduring foundations and the sustaining pillars. Whilst
the peasant tills the land, in which the law should
recognise his right of proprietorship, as it is in France,
as it is in Prussia — ^whilst the mechanic plies his craft,
from which the law should keep aloof the crushing
influences of foreign competition, as it is in Germany,
as it is in Belgium — whilst the merchant supplies the
deficiencies of the soil with the superfluities of other
lands, and drives a princely trade beneath the auspices
of a native flag — ^whilst the priest protects the purity
of the altar, and the scholar vindicates the reputation
of the schools — ^let the noble — residing amongst those
who enrich his inheritance by their toil, or contribute
to his luxury by their skill — ^be the patron of those
pursuits in which the purer genius of a nation lives —
.pursuits which chasten and expand a nation's soul —
which lift it to what is high, and prompt it to what is
daring — ^which infuse the spirit of immortality into the
very ruins of a nation, and which, even when the
labours of a nation are at a close — ^when its commercial
energies are dead — ^when its mechanic faculties have
90 MEAGHER OF THE SWORD
ceased to act, bids it live — as Athens lives, as Florence
lives, as Venice lives — in the lessons of the historian,
and the raptures of the poet. Thus, sir, with each
of the several classes of the community fulfilling its
distinct mission, and, in a separate sphere, contributing
to the peace, and wealth, and vigour of the entire
state, do I desire this island to advance in a righteous
and an eminent career — sustained by its inherent
strength — ^governed by its native wisdom — ennobled
by its native genius — ^thankful for its sustenance to no
foreign sympathiser — thankful for its security to no
foreign soldier — a model, rather than a warning, a
blessing, rather than a burden, to the nations that
surround her — no longer exciting their pity by the
spectacle of its infirmities, but commanding their
respect by the exhibition of its powers. But, sir, a
time comes when the people can wait no longer for the
aristocracy. There is a time when the titles of the
nobility must give way to the charter of the people.
There is a time when the established laws of the land
forfeit their sanctity and become a curse. The time
when these titles of the nobility must give way —
when these " established laws of the land " must cease
to act — ^is when a nation's life is quivering on its lip.
Standing in this assembly of the people, I, who have
sprung from the people ; I, who have no honours to
boast of, save those honours which the people have
conferred upon my father ; I, who never sat at the
table of a lord, and am as thoroughly indifferent to
the compliments of the order as I am thoroughly
anxious for their co-operation in this struggle ; standing
in this assembly of the people, in the name of the people,
I now make this last appeal to the aristocracy of Ireland.
I do so, that in our day of triumph, we may lead no
fellow-countryman in chains, nor scout him as an ahen
NATIONAL POLITICS 91
from our ranks. There is not an hour — no, not an
instant to be lost. Every grave that opens to receive
a victim of English rule, widens and deepens the chasm
that has, for years, divided the two great classes of
the country. Sir, it is useless to argue it — the people,
without the aristocracy, when driven to the last ex-
tremity, have the power to win their freedom. One
thing, at least, is certain — ^the people will not consent
to live another year in a wilderness and a graveyard,
I alone do not say so. The bold historian of the crimes
and victories of Cromwell has said so. Lords and
Commons of Ireland ! hear his words, and be instructed
by them — " And when the general result has come to
the length of perennial, wholesale starvation, argument,
extenuation, logic, pity, and patience on that subject
may be as considered as drawing to a close. All just
men, of what outward colour so ever in politics or
otherwise, will say — ' This cannot last. Heaven dis-
owns it — ^Earth is against it. Ireland will be burnt into
one black, unpeopled field of ashes rather than this
should last.' "
Placehunting
Speech Delivered in the Music Hall, July 7th,
1847, Against the Solicitation and Acceptance
OF Places, Salaries, etc., from the English
Government.
I have the honour, sir, to second the resolution
proposed by Mr. O'Gorman. The advice to which
it refers, and which this meeting is called upon to
sanction, has been censured. I am prepared to defend
it ; and, I trust, this meeting will have reason to
declare that it is wise, expedient, just. Reviewing
the poUtical movements that have taken place in Ireland
for some years past, it seems to me, sir, that in this
country those principles of public virtue have been
systematically decried which give to a people their
truest dignity and their surest strength. At different
times, in other countries, when the people found it
necessary to recover or augment their rights, we have
seen the finest attributes of the heart and mind called
forth, and society present the most brilliant instances
of morality and heroism which mankind could furnish.
In such countries the progress of liberty has been the
progress of virtue. Thus has the history of freedom
become the second gospel of humanity — an inspiration
to those who suffer — an instruction to those who
struggle. True it is, there have been faults, there
have been errors, there have been crimes in the revolu-
tions to which I now advert, which fling a shadow
across the epitaph of many an honoured grave. But,
92
PLACEHUNTING 93
high above these errors and these crimes, ascends the
genius and the virtue of these revolutions — ^pure,
brilliant, and imperishable. Let us consult the star.
If we read not the destiny of our country in its glory,
in its purity we read the virtues that qualify for freedom,
and ennoble the citizen even in his chains. We read
that truth, generosity, self-sacrifice, have been the
virtues of the true patriot, and the strongest weapons
of his success. It has not been so in Ireland for many
years. Truth has been frittered away by expediency —
generosity has been supplanted by selfishness — ^self-
sacrifice has been lampooned as an ancient foUy, which,
in these less classic, but more philosophic times, it
would be downright lunacy to imitate. But what is
the character of our cause ? It is wise, generous, and
heroic. Wise, for the necessities and interests of our
country- dictate it. Generous, for it includes the rights
of all — ^the rights of the democracy, the priesthood, the
nobility. Heroic, for it inspires the loftiest ambition —
suggesting schemes the boldest that the courage of a
nation could attempt — ^the grandest that the ability
of a nation could accomplish. The genius of Ireland
has been its apostle — the chivalry of Ireland has been
its champion. Triumphant in the brightest period of
our history — encircled with the dazzling memories of
an Irish senate, an Irish commerce, an Irish army — it
is the noblest cause, sir, in which an Irish citizen could
have the ambition to serve, or the heroism to suffer.
Forty-seven years have passed by since that cause was
sold for place and pension, and in the very hall where
Henry Grattan impeached the corruption of the minister,
and the perfidy of the placeman, we hear this day the
clank of gold, which bids us still remember the base
bargain that was ratified within its walls. Let it clank
and glitter still ! It will be a warning to the people.
94 MEAGHER OF THE SWORD
It will remind them of the vice that led to vassalage,
and which — still prevailing, still greedy, still rapacious
— degrades the character of the country, effeminates
its power, and repels its liberty. Not by the perr
petuation of this vice, but by its utter extinction, will
the national cause — the cause of Swift, of Charlemont,
and of Grattan — advance and triumph. This doctrine,
we are told, is exceedingly erroneous. To Repeal the
Union, it is essential that Repealers should take places
— that is the correct doctrine ! To give the minister
a decisive stroke, it is expedient to equip the patriot
hand with gold ! Strenuously oppose the minister, you
must, first of all, beg of the minister, then be his very
humble servant, and, if possible, conclude with being
his much obliged servant ! The financial statement
between the two countries cannot be properly made
out until some Repeal accountant has had a friendly
intercourse with the Treasury, and a propitious ac-
quaintance with the Mint ! Absenteeism has been
enormously increased by the Union, and, therefore, it
is that our peaceful Repealer procures a colonial ap-
pointment, and, exemplifying in his person all the
evils of the system, administers British law, beyond the
seas, upon strictly Repeal principles ! Impoverished
by the Union — ^beggared by the Union — driven to the
last extremity of destitution by the Union — ^it is ad-
visable that we should prove all this to the minister
and the parliament with our pockets full of salaries,
and our family circumstances in full bloom ! De-
noimcing the rapacity of England, we are to share her
spoils. Impeaching the minister, we are to become
his hirelings. Claiming independence, shouting for
independence, foaming for independence, we are to
crawl, betimes, to the Castle, and there crave the
luxuries and the shackles of the slave. Thus we are
PLACEHUNTING 95
told to act ! Thus we are implored to agitate ! This
is the great, peaceful, moral, and constitutional doctrine !
This, the true way to make us the noblest people on
the face of the globe, and restore Ireland to her place
amongst the nations of the earth ! Mean, venal, and
destructive doctrine ! teaching the tongue to cool and
compliment, that has burned and denounced. Mean,
venal, and destructive doctrine ! teaching the people,
on their march to freedom, to kneel and dance before
the golden idol in the desert. Mean, venal, and destruc-
tive doctrine ! teaching whining, teaching flattery,
teaching falsehood. Scout it, spurn it, fling it back to
the Castle from whence it came — there let it lie amongst
the treasured instructions of tjnranny, and the precious
revelations of treason ! Sir, we oppose Mr. John
O'Connell because he is the advocate of this system.
We oppose him, because he has positively declared
that he will soHcit places from the English government
for his friends. We oppose him, because we con-
scientiously believe that he sustains a system which
enervates the national strength, and therefore imperils
the national cause. This we sincerely believe, and ex-
perience justifies the belief. Look back to the year
1833 — note the conspicuous Repealers of that year.
Mark down those amongst them who took Place after
the memorable debate in April, '34. Run through the
newspapers of the last ten or thirteen years, and tell
me, in what political position do you detect these price-
less patriots ? In the chair of Conciliation Hall — in
the committee box — ^in the reserved seats for strangers —
on Tara, with the gallant peasantry of Kildare and
Meath — on the Green of Donnybrook, with the bannered
and battalioned trades of Dublin — ^in the Rotunda, on
the 30th of May, 1845, where citizenship received
the honours of monarchy, and was invested with more
96 MEAGHER OF THE SWORD
than its legitimate authority ? Why, sir, you might
as well inquire if these gentlemen had left a card in
the moon, or had been at a pic-nic in the bowels of
Vesuvius. The porter outside the Chief Secretary's in
the Upper Castle Yard, will tell you where they have
been. The butlers in the Viceregal Lodge will teU you
where they have been. The poUceman on the beat
at Chesham Place will tell you where they have been.
The coiners in the Mint will tell you where they have
been. The clerks of the Board of Trade may let you
know something concerning their mercantile anxieties.
I hold in my hand a book, entitled " The Voice of the
Nation." I beg leave to read the following extract
from it : " When the last agony of the Whigs was
approaching, great was the desire to conciUate and
make friends. . . . Notice had been taken at the
Castle of the immense number of applications pressing
in from those who, throughout various localities in
Ireland, had been ' leaders of the people ' in former
agitations. These applications were carefully registered
and noted ; and when the list was found to contain
the names of a large majority of such persons, the
' declaration ' was made as a proclamation and warning
to them, and made with only too shameful success.
Nearly all those leaders were silenced. They did,
indeed,
' Fall down,
And foul corruption triumphed over them I '
Corruption, that other arm of England, whenever she
seeks to strike down the rising liberties of Ireland !
Force, when we give her the excuse for using it ! Cor-
ruption, when she cannot provoke us to give her that
excuse ! " Who wrote this ? A jealous and em-
bittered Conservative ? A vehement and vicious re-
William Smith O'Brien
PLACEHUNTING 97
volutionist ? A discarded Orangeman ? A flippant
and sarcastic infidel ? A Chartist Repealer, gentlemen ?
No — it was the honourable member for Kilkenny — ^he
who, in the very death-chamber of his father, snatches
at the vacant crown, and strives to balance in his
little hand the massive sceptre which the colossal king
alone could wield ! Out of his own mouth do we con-
demn the apologist of place-begging. We arm our-
selves with its written sentence against corruption, and
with that sentence we give him battle on the hustings.
Sir, we have seen the result of this system in the first
agitation for Repeal, and, whatever it may cost, we
shall oppose it in the second. Sanction this system,
and you set the seeds of venality in that body, which,
to be formidable, must be exempt from all impurities.
Sanction this system, and you entice men to the national
lists, who, but for the golden apples scattered along the
course, would never join you in the race to freedom.
Thus it is that gentlemen will appear upon the hustings
as Repeal candidates, who do not in truth ambition
the independence of the country, but avail themselves
of the cry to extort from the minister a compensation
for their presumed apostacy. Lamartine, in his history
of the Girondists, has said of Danton that " he merely
threatened the court to make the court desirous of
buying him — ^that he only opened his mouth to have
it stuffed with gold." Sir, there have been, there are,
and there will be, hundreds of Repealers to whom this
description will precisely apply, and, if we do not
utterly break up the system that produces them, we
will propagate the contaminating race, until the whole
manhood of the country has become diseased and
powerless. And, sir, with God's good blessing, whilst
we have nerve and voice, we will urge this war against
corruption, and the people will back us, I am confident.
§8 MEAGHER OF THE SWORD
They must be heartily sick of the system that has
exacted so many sacrifices from them, whilst it has
contributed exclusively to the benefit of their leaders.
Cork has done its duty in this respect. The citizens
of the southern capital have met, and they declare that
this venahty shall cease. I trust sincerely, that the
example will be followed, and that the pledge, which
was exacted in Cork, will be exacted in Limerick, in
Mayo, in Dimdalk, in Kilkenny, in Dungarvan, in every
borough, and in every county, where a Repeal candidate
presents himself. As to Waterford, my father is one
of the Repeal candidates for that city. Now, proud as
I would be to see my father represent his native city^
proud as I would be to share with him the fatigue and
the vexation of the contest — ^proud as I would be to
see him triumph over the ministeriaUst who at present
represents that city — ^proud as I would be to stand by
him on the hustings when the people hailed him as the
successful opponent of an insolent imperiaUsm — ^proud
as, I know, I would then feel, with the thought that I
had done my utmost to level the Whig power at the
feet of my fellow-citizen — ^yet I do sincerely tell you that
if he does not subscribe to the pledge of the Confedera-
tion — ^though I know he hates Whiggery from his
heart — ^though I know that he would scorn to ask the
slightest favour of any faction — ^yet I will feel bound
in conscience not to vote for him. But, sir, we are
told, that soliciting places for others is quite a different
thing from the representative soliciting place or pension
for himself. I admit there is a difference. In my mind,
however, the difference consists in the latter being the
more injurious and discreditable case. For, in the
former case, the representative gets his place, or what-
ever else it may be, and we are sure to have done with
him. Like the great Athenian, he is seized with an
PLACEHUNTING 99
excessive hoarseness the moment he grasps the cup of
Herpalus, and, owing to the bandage round his neck,
cannot possibly harangue against the Macedonian !
But, in the former case, the representative remains
amongst us — day after day multiplying his obligations
to the government by a series of golden links — day
after day stimulating amongst the people a gross
appetite for the dregs and droppings of a foreign court,
when he should expand their ambition, and bid them
seek in the prosperity of their country, and in that
alone, the purest and most unfailing source of private
happiness. Sir, once for all, we must have an end of
this money-making in the public forum. The pursuit
of liberty must cease to be a traffic. Let it resume
amongst us its ancient glory — ^let it be with us a pas-
sionate heroism. Fear not dissension. Dissension is
good where truth is to be saved. Repeal does not
triumph, I contend, where the repeal prmciples of
Concihation Hall prevail. Repeal does not incur
defeat where these principles are swamped by Whiggery
or Conservatism. In the former case it is Whiggery,
masked and muffled, that succeeds — ^in the latter it is
Whiggery, masked and muffled, that is beaten. Dis-
daining, then, the calumnies of the public writer, and
the invectives of the public orator ; however bitter
society may sneer ; however coarsely a section of the
multitude may curse ; assert this righteous principle.
Rescue the cause of Ireland from the profanation of
those who beg, and the control of those who bribe.
Ennoble the strife for liberty, and be it here, as it has
been in other countries, a gallant sacrifice — ^not a
vulgar game. Conform to one precept of the English
parliament — depend upon your own resources. De-
manding independence, be thoroughly independent.
Be as independent of this Russell, the English minister.
100 MEAGHER OF THE SWORD
as of Metternich of Vienna, or Guizot of Paris. Cherish
in its full integrity this fine virtue, without which there
will be no true liberty amongst you, whatever be your
institutions. Bereft of it, the heart of the nation will
be cold, and cramped, and sordid. Bereft of it, the
arts will have no enduring impulse, and commerce
no invigorating soul. Bereft of it, society degenerates,
and the mean, the frivolous, and the vicious triumph.
The idler, the miser, and the coward, may laugh at
these sentiments. The worms of the Castle, I know,
would eat them from the hearts of the young, the
generous, and the gifted. The old champions of
faction — in whose withered souls all that is pure and
generous in our nature has rotted out — may drive their
poisoned pens, and ply their tainted tongues, in their
profane crusade against them. Then, too, may come
the dull philosopher of the age to rebuke our folly,
our want of sense, our indiscretion ; and proclaim that
patriotism, a wild and glittering passion, has died out
— ^that it could not coincide with civilization, the
steam-engine, and free trade. It is false ! The virtue
that gave to Paganism its dazzling lustre — to barbarism
its redeeming trait — ^to Christianity its heroic form,
is not dead. It still lives to preserve, to console, to
sanctify humanity. It has its altar in every clime —
its worship and festivities. On the heathered hills
of Scotland, the sword of Wallace is yet a bright
tradition. The genius of France, in the brilliant
literature of the day, pays its enthusiastic homage
to the piety and heroism of the young maid of Orleans.
In her new senate hall, England bids her sculptor
place,' among the effigies of her greatest sons, the
images of her Hampden and her Russell. In the gay
and graceful capital of Belgium, the daring hand of
Geefs has reared a monument, full of glorious meaning,
PLACEHUNTING loi
to the three hundred martyrs of the revolution. By
the soft, blue waters of Lake Lucerne stands the chapel
of William Tell. On the anniversary of his revolt and
victory, across those waters, as they glitter in the
July sun, skim the light boats of the allied cantons.
From the prows hang the banners of the republic, and
as they near the sacred spot, the daughters of Lucerne
chant the hymns of their old, poetic land. Then
bursts forth the glad Te Deum, and heaven hears
again the voice of that wild chivalry of the mountains
which, five centuries since, pierced the white eagle
of Vienna, and flung it bleeding on the rocks of Uri.
At Innsbruck, in the black side of the old cathedral,
the peasant of the Tyrol kneels before the statue of
Andreas Hofer. In the defiles and valleys of the
Tyrol, who forgets the day on which he fell within
the walls of Mantua ? It is a festive day all through
his quiet, noble land. In that old cathedral his in-
spiring memory is recalled amid the pageantries of
the altar — ^his image appears in every house — ^his
victories and virtues are proclaimed in the songs of
the people — and when the sun goes down, a chain
of fires — in the deep, red light of which the eagle
spreads his wings and holds his giddy revelry — ^pro-
claim the glory of the chief, whose blood has made his
native land a sainted spot in Europe. Sir, shall we
not join in this glorious worship, and here in this
Island — anointed by the blood of many a good and
gallant man — shall we not have the faith, the duties,
the festivities of patriotism ? You discard the weapons
of these heroic men — do not discard their virtues.
Elevate the national character, and serve the national
cause with generous hearts and stainless hands. You
have pledged yourselves to strive in this Confederation
for the independence of your country, within the limits
102 MEAGHm OF THE SWORD
of the Constitution. Keep within the Constitution,
but do not compromise the virtue of the state. Con-
front corruption wherever it appears — ^scourge it from
the hustings — scourge it from the public forum — and
whilst proceeding with the noble task to which you
have vowed your lives and fortunes, let this proud
thought enrapture and invigorate your hearts, that in
seeking the independence of your country you have
preserved its virtue from the seductions of a powerful
minister and the infidelity of bad citizens.
The Citizen and the Mob
July 15TH, 1847.
[The Confederation, defying the threats of the O'Connellite
mob in Dublin, continued to hold its usual public meetings,
after. t e cry was raised that " the Young Irelanders had killed
O'Connell." On the night of July 15th, Meagher presided at
a public meeting of the Confederation in the Music Hall, Abbey
Street, which was surrounded by a furious rabble. After the
conclusion of the meeting, Meagher, Mitchel, O'Gorman and
the other Young Ireland leaders were attacked in Abbey Street
and O'Connell Street by the mob, one member of which at-
tempted to stab Meagher. The Confederates, thereafter
organised a body of 400 of their members, chiefly skilled
artisans and clerks, who acted as a bodyguard for the Young
Ireland leaders on their way to and from the public meetings
of the Confederation and in a few weeks the attempt to suppress
freedom of speech in Dublin was sternly ended.]
Gentlemen, I sincerely thank you for the honour
you have now conferred upon me. At any time I
would esteem it an enviable privilege to occupy the
chair of the Irish Confederation. On the present
occasion I consider it a very eminent distinction. We
have met here this night for a special reason. We have
met here this night to maintain the privileges of the
Citizen against the despotism of the Mob. The right
to meet in public council we are prepared to vindicate
in defiance of every threat — ^in the teeth of every peril.
That right we would not surrender to the minister
though he came to demand it commissioned by the
Parliament and backed by the army. Neither shall we
surrender it to the rabble, though they come to extort
it with their blows and steep it in our blood. This
time last year the secession took place. Since then we
have stood erect in spite of the most vicious enmity.
103
104 MEAGHER OF THE SWORD
Misrepresentations were tried and they have failed.
Indictments for high treason were tried and they have
failed. Charges of infidelity were tried and they have
done us very little harm. Charges of intriguing with
the Castle were placarded about the town, and they
have served to amuse the public, to sell a paper — and
that is all. In private as in public the venal tongue
for the last twelve months has been busy at its task
of defamation. Every effort that malice could suggest,
that depravity could patronise, that penury could be
bribed to perfect, has been made to crush us beneath
the feet of the people amongst whom we had dared to
preach the true principles of freedom. Upheld by a
sense of right, strengthened by the sympathies of the
upright and intelligent portion of the commimity, we
battled through the winter and maintained the position
we thought it our duty to assume. But malice had not
done its utmost, it appears. There was yet another
arrow in the quiver, and that should take the lives of
those whom falsehood and invective had not struck
down. Gentlemen, the attempt has been made to put
us down by brute force — it was made on the last night
of meeting, and because it was made we are here this
night. Let the coarse enemies of Conciliation Hall
renew the attempt. Against them, to the death, we
shall maintain the right of Citizens to meet, wherever
and whenever they think best, to consult upon the
public interests. No power shall deprive us of that
right whilst we have life to worship and to guard it.
The sceptre shall not deprive us of that righ.t— neither
shall the bludgeon. But this is what we had just
reason to expect. It has been the fate of many better
men who have preceded us, and thus it will be to the
end of time. The career of truth is through a crowd of
perils, and freedom is not so much the gift of fortune
THE CITIZEN AND THE MOB 105
as it is the reward of suffering. Nerved by these
attacks, proceed as you have begun. Confederates of
Dublin, remember the proud title that has been con-
ferred upon you. When you came forth in November
last, two thousand strong, to make war against a policy
that had debauched and diseased the political power of
your country, you were styled the pioneers of Irish
freedom. The intelligence of the country hailed you
as such, the virtue of the country blessed you as such,
the enthusiasm of the country worshipped you as such.
Sustain the title and keep the van. Depend upon it,
the nation will in time fall in, and the march to the old
Senate house will be made along the road which it
will have been your heroic achievement to have opened.
It is quite true that your enrolled associates are few.
Do not conceal it — avow it manfully — ^your organised
forces are not numerous. But each day brings a new
conscript to your ranks, for the principles of the Con-
federation are becoming the principles of the country.
You were the first to pronounce against place-begging.
From this hall went forth the decree that the repre-
sentatives of the people should not beg from the Govern-
ment of England ; that in doing so the representatives
of the people impaired the character, diseased the
strength, imperilled the liberty of Ireland ; therefore
that the representatives who become the beggars of
the minister would be guilty against the country and
should be declared its enemies. The provinces ratify
the decree. Cork affirms that it is wise, virtuous,
and essential. Limerick affirms that it is wise, virtuous,
and essential. Galway affirms that it is wise, virtuous,
and essential. Everywhere the people have hailed
this decree — ^have read, have studied and have sanctioned
it. Thus it is, that whilst you have not as yet acquired
the power to emancipate the country, you have in-
io6 MEAGHER OF THE SWORD
spired the virtue that prevents it from being sold.
You have saved the country from being for the second
time the renegade sutler of the Whig faction. You
have snatched the ilag that flew at Mullaghmast from
the hands of those who would have delivered it to the
minister, and it is owing to your virtue that it does not
fly to-day beneath the Union Jack from the walls of
Woburn Abbey. You did not support — ^you did not
even tolerate this minister. You are free from the
guilt of his policy — you did not leave Repeal " an
open question " with him, to be minced by him into
scraps and instalments of " justice." This time last
year this minister took office. He passed from the
Opposition to the Ministerial benches and amid the
cheers of the EngUsh Radicals and the greedy chatterings
of the Irish Liberals, undertook to govern Ireland without
the assistance of an Arms Bill. What was then the
condition of Ireland ? It was poor, but it was not
bankrupt. It was himgry, but it was not famished.
It was worn with misery, but it was not rotten with
the plague. It had its damp, dark cabins, but it had
not its reeking fever-sheds. It had its acres of waste
lands, but it had not its acres of graves. There were
eight millions in Ireland on that day — ^there are now
two millions of them dead. Do not these two million
victims cry for vengeance ? Will you tolerate the men
whose policy has been more sweeping than the blast —
more scathing than the lightning ? Will you tolerate
the men who " tried " them, excused them, begged
from them. Perish two millions more, if such be your
lameness and debasement. Meet these Whigs upon
the hustings — ^meet them boldly — ^meet them resent-
fully, meet them to crush them. Show no mercy to
them — they have shown no mercy to the people. Leave
them to their resources as they have left you to your
THE CITIZEN AND THE MOB 107
resources. Down with these ministers and down
with their colleagues of Conciliation Hall. Whilst hfe
is left us they shall have a foe. Not till they have
beaten us to the earth and trampled on us in the public
streets shall we desist. Then let them hold their jubilee.
Then let them celebrate the triumph of their pure,
their peaceful, their bloodless policy. Then let them
enumerate the political victories they have won without
the effusion of one drop of blood. Then let them point
in ecstasy to their sacred banner, and with tongues
that uttered words of vengeance against their fellow-
citizens, let them reiterate their favourite maxim that
" He who commits a crime gives strength to the enemy."
Fearless of these men, continue to act as you have done
— continue to be the friends of truth and enemies of
corruption. Be assured of this : that they whom you
have stood by so manfully — ^these whose youth has
been no obstacle to your confidence — ^wiU stand by
you to the last — ^proud to share the calumnies with
which you are sure to be assailed — ^proud to share the
trials it will be your destiny to endure — proud to share
the dangers that may await you from within and from
without — elated with the dazzling hope that burns
above the ruins of the island, that having worked
steadfastly, intelligently, honestly together, though the
lives of some amongst us may be short, we may celebrate
together the inauguration of the Irish Senate.
The Ulstermen
Speech Delivered in the Music Hall, Belfast,
November i5th, 1847.
Citizens of Belfast, I appear before you as the
advocate of those principles, with the resolute assertion
of which the proudest reminiscences of Ulster have
been identified. I appear before you as the disciple
of that creed which, a few years since, was preached
from the pulpit of Dungannon Church, and which
the armed apostles that issued from it delivered to the
nation. If I am wrong, blame your fathers — ^blot
their names from the records of the north — burn their
banners, on which " free trade " was written — ^brand
their arms, which saved the nation, and restored the
senate. Blame them — they have taught me the
principles which you impeach as treason. Blame
them — ^they have taught me the creed which you
anathematise as heresy. Blame them — ^they have
taught me to love the frank, bold voice of freedom — to
shun the lazy sanctity of servitude. The sentiments
they cherished, I would labour to diffuse. The attitude
they assumed, I would have their sons assume. The
position to which they raised this kingdom, I would
urge this kingdom to regain. Therefore, I demand
the Repeal of the Act of Union ; and that this act
may be repealed, I invoke the spirit of the North.
Not for vote by ballot — ^not for an extension of the
franchise — ^not for corporate reform amendment acts —
not for " eleven comprehensive measures " — do I demand
ipS
THE ULSTERMEN 109
Repeal. These are not the grounds upon which an
Irish citizen should claim for his country the restitution
of her legislative power. The grievances of a class,
the defects of an institution, may be, in time, removed
by that parliament, the legislation of which has, for
so long a period, been conservative of error and abuse.
Political reform is a question common to both countries ;
and you must bear this in mind, that many politicians
in England believe that an assimilation of the franchises,
and various political institutions, of the two countries,
will confirm rather than disturb the control which
England maintains at present over the taxes, the
produce, and the energies of Ireland. On higher
groimds — on grounds that are immutable — on grounds
that are common to all parties in the state — I take
my stand, and beckon the nation to a new career.
That the taxes of this island may be levied and appHed,
by its own decrees, for its own particular use and
benefit ; that the produce of the soil may be at our own
free and full disposal, and be dealt with precisely as
the national necessities require ; that the commerce
of the island, protected by native laws, may spring
into a strenuous activity, and cease to be a mere
Channel trade ; that the manufactures of our towns,
encouraged by the premiums which a native parliament
would not hesitate to grant, may revive, and, with a
generous supply, meet the demand which a resident
gentry, and all the public of&ces connected with the
seat of legislation, would be sure to create ; that, in
fact, the whole property of this island — the food that
sustains — the skill that clothes — the enterprise that
enriches — ^the genius that adorns — ^may belong, per-
manently and absolutely, to itself, and cease to be the
property of any other people : on these grounds, sir,
we insist that Ireland shall be exempt from foreign
no MEAGHER OF THE SWORD
rule. Against this project, what objection have you
to urge ? Is what we advocate tainted with sectarian-
ism ? Is it distempered with Whiggery ? Does it
predict the fall of Protestantism ? Does it threaten
the rights of property ? I know that many of you
are the enemies of Repeal. I know full well, that, in
the North, Repeal has been identified with Popery,
whilst the Union'has been identified with Protestantism.
I know full well, that, on this side of the Boyne, it has
been declared antagonistic to Orangeism, and that,
with the principles of 1688, a legislative disconnection
from England has been judged incompatible. Your
fathers did not say so. On the ist of July, 1779, the
Volunteer companies of Belfast held a different opinion.
On that day the Orange cockades were glittering in
their hats, and the same guns that backed the Declara-
tion of Irish Rights, poured forth their volleys 'in com-
memoration of the great victory you still so vehemently
celebrate. Why have you foresworn the faith of which
your fathers were the intrepid missionaries ? I will
not urge this question deceitfully. You are frank,
blunt men, in Ulster, and speak your opinions boldly.
You like to hear the plain truth, and shall have it.
That there have been circumstances, connected with
the Repeal movement, which justify in a great measure
your hostility to Repeal, I candidly admit. Until
very lately, the movement has worn the features of
the Catholic movement of 1827. Exclusions of Catholics
from the jury box — exclusion of Catholics from govern-
ment oflfiices, infidel colleges. Propaganda rescripts.
Bequest Acts, Maynooth grants — questions which could
not be discussed without provoking sectarian strife,
and which could not be decided without originating
factions — these, and similar questions, were frequently
introduced at Repeal meetings, giving to them the
THE ULSTERMEN in
complexion of the meetings that preceded the Act of
1829. Instead of keeping to the one plain question
— ^the question upon which, in 1782, the advocate of
Catholic claims and the advocate of Catholic disabilities
concurred — the question upon which, in 1799, the
Catholic Committee and the Orange Lodge pronoimced
the same opinion — instead of keeping to this one plain
question, the leaders of the movement constantly
diverged into those topics, jipon which, as I have just
said, division was inevitable, and from the discussion
of which in a populcir assembly, I conceive, the fiercest
antipathies must arise. Besides, sir, it seems to me
that a predominance in the movement was conceded
to the Catholic priests, which the Protestant portion
of the community could not recognise, and which, I
maintain, it would be an abdication of their civil
liberty for Protestants to tolerate. " The Priests and
the People " — that was the motto of the Repeal Associa-
tion. " The Citizens of Ireland " — ^this is the motto of
the Irish Confederation. And by this we mean, the
peer, the priest, the merchant, the peasant, the mechanic
— every class, trade, creed, race, profession — all the
elements that move and act within this island— sustain-
ing its existence, and directing its career. Will you
adopt that motto ? But, first of all, tell me, do you
believe the Union is essential to Irish interests ? Do
you believe that we cannot get on through life unless
we are bound by an act of parliament to England ?
Do you believe that we have been gifted with no in-
herent strength, and that, without the help of a neigh-
bouring state, we must limp, and stagger through the
world ? Is that your faith ? and if it be, whence comes
it ? Is it the result of inspiration, or the result of
teaching ? Inspiration ! What — the secret tutorship
of God ! What — the instruction which the soul re-
112 MEAGHER OF THE SWORD
ceives amid the mysteries of nature, which comes to
it borne upon the black pinion of the wave, and bids
it go forth and bring a new world into contact with
the old — ^which comes to it along the burning pathways
of the stars, and bids it utter those mighty thoughts
which shall echo through all ages — ^which comes to it,
even at this day, across the waste and desolation of
the desert — ^wakes an outcast tribe into brilliant
heroism, and gives them sti;pngth and skill to cope with
the cross and sword of the Christian civiliser ! Inspira-
tion ! Utter not the word. No craven faith ever
came from thence. Taught from thence, you would
Spurn the menial's garb, and snap the vassal's fetter.
Taught from thence, you would boldly dare, and nobly
consummate. Taught from thence, you would find no
enterprise too perilous, no eminence too giddy for your
ambition to attempt. Taught from thence, you would
step from height to height, bearing aloft your country's
flag, imtil you had reached the summit, whence
your voice would be heard, and your glory witnessed,
from the furthest confine of the earth. From false
teaching your timid faith has come. Look to it, and
see if it be not false. You cannot do without the aid
of England — the Union Act is your stoutest main-stay !
This you have been taught to say. And how is this
sustained ? Mr. Pitt assured you that the Union was
essential to the local interests of Ireland. In his
speech, on the 31st of January, 1799, he declared, that
the measure " was designed and calculated to increase
the prosperity, and ensure the safety of Ireland." He
declared, moreover, that he wished for it " with a
view of giving to Ireland the means of improving all
its great national resources, and of giving to it its
due weight and importance, as a great member of the
empire." Is it not absurd to ask the question — Where
Terence Bellew MacManus
THE ULSTERMEN 113
are the evidences of increased prosperity, and how
has the safety of Ireland been ensured ? Thel andlord
swamped — ^the tradesman bankrupt — ^the farmer in
the poorhouse — are these the evidences of increased
prosperity? And tell me is it by the scourge or
famine that the safety of Ireland has been ensured ?
I do not enter into the details of ruin which the history
of the Union contains. Were I to do so, I should have
to detain you for many hours ; and, besides, it is an
inquiry that can be more instructively pursued in
private than in public. The Council of the Confedera-
tion will take care to have pamphlets and tracts dis-
tributed throughout the country, in which these de-
tails will be fully given ; for we desire that from a
conviction of its necessity, and from that alone, you
should unite with us in the demand for self-government.
An intelligent concurrence of opinion is the only sure
basis for a firm political combination. The accession
to a political society of men who do not imderstand
its object — who have not been convinced of the utility
of that object, and the practicability of its attainment
— such an accession, in my mind, is utterly worthless.
Hence, I say, that the meetings of 1843 failed to promote
Repeal. There was no mind at work within those
gigantic masses. There was faith, trust, heroism. But
that which outlives the tumult of a meeting — ^that
which dies not with the passion the orator has evoked
— that which survives, though the arm may shrivel,
and the heart grow cold — a free, intelligent opinion
was wanting. What, then, do we propose ? Nothing
more than this — ^that the question of Repeal should
be honestly considered by the country, and that if
the result of this consideration be a conviction of its
necessity, the country should demand Repeal as the
condition of its allegiance. That the country will be
114 MEAGHER OF THE SWORD
in time, and in a very short time, convinced of the
necessity of Repeal, I entertain no doubt. That it is
already the growing conviction of many minds, hitherto
opposed most decisively to Repeal, I firmly believe.
What is the meaning of the Irish Council, sitting in
the Rotunda, if it be not this — that the affairs of
Ireland having been mismanaged by the parliament
of England, the citizens of Ireland have been, at
length, compelled to assemble, as an Irish parliament
would do, to overlook those affairs, and advise upon
them ? In that council many of our best citizens
deliberate. What does it report ? That the Union
must be repealed ? No ; but that the Union has
been an experiment, of which the utter prostration of
the national interests attests the terrible fatality. Do
you refuse to authenticate this report ? Doctor
Boyton must be esteemed an authority in the North.
He was a zealous opponent of Catholic claims, and a
powerful champion of ultra-Conservatism. In 1835
there was a great Protestant meeting at Morrisson's
Hotel, Dublin, and at that meeting. Doctor Boyton
delivered an anti-Union speech, from which I will
read to you the following extract : —
" The exports and imports, as far as they are a
test of a decay of profitable occupation — so far as
the exports and imports are supplied from the parlia-
mentary returns — exhibit extraordinary evidences of
the condition of the labouring classes. The importa-
tion of flax seed (an evidence of the extent of a most
important source of employment) was — In 1790,
339.745 barrels ; 1800, 327.721 barrels ; 1836, 469,458
barrels. The importation of silk, raw ajid thrown,
was — In 1790, 92,091 lbs. ; 1800, 79,060 lbs. ; 1830,
3,190 lbs. Of vmwrought iron — In 1790, 2,271 tons ;
in 1800, 10,241 tons ; in 1830, 871 tons. Formerly
THE ULSTERMEN 115
we spun all our own woollen and worsted yarn. We
imported in 1790, only 2,294 ^s. ; in 1800, 1,880 lbs. ;
in 1826, 662,750 lbs. — an enormous increase. There
were, I understand, upwards of thirty persons engaged
in the woollen trade in Dublin, who have become
bankrupts since 182 1. There has been, doubtless, an
increase in the exports of cottons. The exports were
— In 1800, 9,147 yards ; 1826, 7,793,873. The exports
of cotton from Great Britain were — In 1829, 402,517,196
yards, value £12,516,247, which will give the value of
our cotton exports at something less than a quarter
of a million — poor substitute for our linens, which in the
province of Ulster alone exceeded in value two millions
two hundred thousand pounds. In fact, every other
return affords unequivocal proof that the main sources
of occupation are decisively cut off from the main
body of the population of this coimtry. The export
of live cattle and of corn has greatly increased, but
these are raw material ; there is little more labour in
the production of an ox than the occupation of him
who herds and houses him ; his value is the rent of
the land, the price of the grass that feeds him, while
an equal value of cotton, or linen, or pottery, will require
for its production the labour of many people for money.
Thus the exports of the country now are somewhat
under the value of the exports thirty years since, but
they employ nothing like the number of people for
their production ; employment is immensely reduced —
population increased three-eighths. Thus, in this tran-
sition from the state of a manufacturing population to
an agricultural, a mass of misery, poverty, and dis-
content is created."
Thus have Mr. Pitt's predictions been verified ;
thus has the prosperity of Ireland increased ; thus
have its local interests been protected ; and thus its
ii6 MEAGHER OF THE SWORD
due weight and importance, as a great member of the
empire, has been established ! Mr. Staimton, in his
able essay — an essay which, for its statistical informa-
tion, I know would be highly prized in the North —
has quoted an opinion of the late O'Conor Don, in
which the weight and importance of Ireland, as a
great member of the empire, is very respectfully set
forth. The opinion is simply this — ^that " any five
British merchants waiting upon the minister, to urge
on his attention any public subject, would have more
weight than the whole body of Irish representatives."
In this opinion is it erroneous to coincide ? Do you
really believe that Ireland is a great member of the
British Empire ? You might as well say that the boy
Jones was a great member of the royal family. He
had no right to the privy purse, and you have no
claim to the Imperial Exchequer. So you may boast
of your English connection, but you'll get nothing by
it. Get nothing by it ? No ; but depend upon it,
you will lose everything you have to lose. See what
you have lost already. You have lost your manu-
factures. You have lost your foreign trade. You
have lost several public institutions. The Board of
Customs has been transferred to London. So have the
Revenue and Excise Boards. The Board of Ordnance,
within the last few weeks, has been ordered off. And is
it not the fashionable news of the day, that Lord
Clarendon will be the last of the English Proconsuls,
and that the Castle will be given up to the Board of
Works, of whose genius for mischief, upon every road
in the country, there have been deposited the most
embarrassing testimonials? Depend upon this — ^the
English people love old England, and to make her rich
and powerful they will exact from you every treasure
you possess, and then commit you, most piously, to
THE ULSTERMEN 117
Providence and your own resources. Like proper
men of business, they mind their own affairs, and
will not entrust them to the Diet of Hungary, or the
French Chamber of Deputies. And, in doing so, of
course, they will pay very little attention to the affairs
of Ireland, or any other despicable province. Thus it
is, that the grant in aid of your linen manufacture
has been withdrawn. Thus it is, that the grant in aid
of the deep-sea fisheries has been withdrawn. Thus
it is, that the protective duties -have been repealed, in
spite of the remonstrance of the principal manufacturers
of Ireland. Thus it is, that for the reclamation of your
five million acres of waste land, they have refused to
vote an adequate advance. Thus it is, as Mr. Grey
Porter has stated, in the first pamphlet which he
published, that, since the Union Act came into opera-
tion, only fifteen local acts have passed for Ireland,
whilst four hundred and forty-five local acts have
passed for Great Britain. I might proceed with these
facts, if you did not interrupt me with the exclamation
— " Look to Belfast, if you pleaSe ; we have thriven
here in spite of England— the industry of the people
can thwart the injustice of the parliament — cease your
spouting — go to work — Cleave the old parliament house
with the bankers — the cashier's ofiice is just as good as
a Treasury bench — ^build the factory — ^build the ware-
house — ^learn this, that industry is true patriotism, and
that for a nation to be prosperous it must cease to be
indolent." Now, sir, this is most excellent advice,
and I congratulate Belfast upon its miraculous ex-
emption from the ruin in which every other town in
Ireland has been embedded. Your fate has been as
singular as that of Robinson Crusoe ; and your ingenuity,
in making the most of a desert island, has been no less
remarkable. But, in ascribing the indigence of the
Ii8 MEAGHER OF THE SWORD
country to the indolence with which you charge it,
how do you explain this fact, that, previous to the
enactment of the Union, in thousands of factories, now
closed up, there were so many evidences of an in-
dustrious disposition ? I cannot run through all them
— ^but, take one or two. Dublin, with its ninety-one
master manufacturers in the woollen trade, employing
4,938 hands ; Cork, with its forty-one employers in
the same trade, giving employment to 2,500 hands ;
Bandon, your old southern ally, with its camlet trade,
producing upwards of £100,000 a year ; were these no
proofs of an active spirit, seeking in the rugged paths
of labour for that gold out of which a nation weaves
its purple robe, and moulds its sceptre ? I cite those
towns — I could cite a hundred other towns — ^Limerick,
Roscrea, Carrick-on-Suir, Kilkenny — I cite them against
the Union. You cite Belfast, and because Belfast has
prospered, the Union must be maintained ! Is that
your argument ? I do not deny, that whilst Belfast
has been industrious, the other places I have mentioned
have been inert. But how does this admission serve
the Unionist ? He admits the existence of an in-
dustrious energy, prevailing all through the country,
previous to the Union. In the English Commons, it
was asserted by Mr. Sheridan, Mr. Burdett, and, I
believe, also by Mr. Tierney. Mr. Pitt himself bore
testimony to it, but said there was room for improve-
ment. What then ? The indolence of the country
dates from the passing of the Union ; and the fact is
indisputable, that whilst the Union has grown old,
the country has grown decrepid. How could it be
otherwise ? In the history of all nations, you will
find that, with the decline of freedom the decay of
virtue has been contemporaneous. Restrict the powers
— restrict the functions of a nation — ^and you check
THE ULSTERMEN 119
the passions that prompt it to what is noble. The
nation that does not possess the power to shape its
own course, will have no heart, no courage, no ambition.
Like the soul, in which a sense of immortality has been
extinguished, it will not look beyond to-day — it will do
nothing for the morrow. All its acts will be little, and,
for the future, it will have no generous aspiration, and,
therefore, no heroic effort. Argue you as you please,
the plain fact is this — a nation will be indolent, sluggish,
slothful, unless it has a security for its outlay, and this
security exists solely in the power to protect, by laws
and arms, the riches which its industry may accumu-
late. Do you dispute the fact ? Have you no faith
in freedom ? If so, let the Northern Whig supplant
the gospel of Dungannon. Go into the churchyard —
write " Fool " upon every tombstone that commemorates
a Volunteer — and thank your God that you live in an
age of commonsense. Whig philosophy, and starvation.
Ay, write the sarcasm upon the tombstone of the
Volunteer. It may be sacrilege — ^but it is common-
sense. The citizen soldier of 1782 was a fool 1 He
did not sign petitions for out-door relief, but labelled
his gun with " free trade." He did not drive to the
Castle to beg " justice for Ireland," but drew his
sword in College Green, under the statue of King
William ; took the oath of independence, and com-
pelled the Castle to do homage to the Senate. He
insisted upon a final settlement between the two
countries—declared that Ireland should not be an
integral portion of a monopolising empire — declared
that Ireland should be an independent sovereignty
— ^and, until that settlement was concluded, he " put
his trust in God, and kept his powder dry." I am
much mistaken if you do not ambition to imitate this
" fool." I believe that you desire to have this country
120 MEAGHER OF THE SWORD
occupy an honourable position, and that of its abilities
to be great you have formed no mean conception.
But as I have already said, you dread Repeal, which
means the restoration of the Constitution of 1782,
and you cling to the Union, which is an abdication of
that Constitution — an abdication by the country of
all control over her resources, her revenue, and her
existence. The Union Act, you say, is the great charter
of Irish Protestantism. But has that chsirter been
held inviolate ? Have those ancient privileges been
preserved, which, a few years since, gave to Irish
Protestantism an authority so supreme ? The cor-
porations — once the citadels of the Williamites — ^have
been surrendered to the Radicals ; and though, as
yet, the civic chain has never shone as a trophy upon
the altar of the Catholic, how often, let me ask you,
does it glitter in the Protestant pew, for which its
brilliancy has been so fastidiously reserved ? The
Castle, too, has slipped from your hands. The sleek
Catholic slave is a greater favourite in that quarter,
now-a-days, than an alderman of Skinner's Alley.
The Oremge flag is designated by a Conservative
minister the symbol of vagabondism — ^your processions
are prohibited — and, when you declaim against the
spread of Popery, and pray for the repeal of the Emanci-
pation Act, they knock ten mitres of the Established
Church into " kingdom come," and vote £26,000 a
year to Majmooth. What say you now to the great
charter of Protestant supremacy ? What said Dr.
Maunsell, in the Dublin Corporation, in 1844, when
his motion in favour of rotatory parliaments was
under discussion ? Speaking upon this very subject,
he asked the following question : " What is now the
position, and what may be the reasonable expectations
of Irish Protestants ? Two institutions — and two only
THE ULSTERMEN 121
— ^in which they have a special interest, have been
suffered to remain — ^the University and the Church.
Now, I ask any reflecting man will he engage that the
Protestant University will not, within a year, be thrown
as a sop to the monster of agitation ? On this matter
the handwriting of the Premier has but recently ap-
peared upon the wall. The question is no longer a
mooted one : the days of the University of Dublin, as
an exclusively or special Protestant institution, are
numbered ; and I will again ask, when the University
shall have been sacrificed, how long do Irish Protestants
suppose their Church, as a national establishment, will
survive ? Surely, if the history of the last fifteen
years be remembered, no one, not the most sanguine
truster in statesmen, can in his sober moments fail to
see that this establishment is already doomed — ^that
the purses of the great Enghsh proprietors of Irish
soil gape for the remnant of the patrimony of the
Church, to the appropriation of which they have
already made a first step, by converting it from an
actual property in the Icind to a stipendiary rent-
charge ? No ; let no one hope that a minister whose
mind is trained in manoeuvres for tiding over political
shoals will hesitate to slip these the two only remaining
anchors of Irish Protestantism, as a national establish-
ment, if doing so will enable him to escape official
wreck, even if it were but for a session." Such were
the prospects of Protestantism in 1844 ; and, since
then, have those prospects been improved ? Alderman
Butt is an authority upon this subject, and wherever
integrity is prized, his opinion must have weight.
At the second meeting of the Irish Council he delivered
a most powerful speech upon the condition of Ireland,
and in alluding to that establishment, of which he has
been for so many years the gifted champion, he made
122 MEAGHER OF THE SWORD
the following remarks : " Take any of those interests
for which party has contended. Where will they be
when the country is gone ? Let us take the question
of the Church establishment — a question, perhaps,
which has excited much of angry discussion. I am one
of those who thought — I still think — that the Protestant
establishment of Ireland ought to be maintained. I
see gentlemen in this room who have differed with me
honestly and sincerely, I am sure, upon this question.
We have contended about this, and what is the result ?
The question will be settled without the decision of
our disputes. The poor-rate has swallowed up the
income of the clergy ; and in many districts the Pro-
testant Church has suffered that which you, its most
determined opponents, never proposed. The present
incumbents will be left, by the operation of the present
pauperism of Ireland, without the means of actual
support. Thus, while we have been contending about
the Church, the Church is sharing the ruin of the country.
Need I refer to other instances to prove that, struggle
as we will for party interests, no. party interest can
survive our country ? There are gentlemen here who
have been advocates of the voluntary system — ^who
have applauded that system, as carried out in Ireland,
in the support of the clergy of the Church of Rome.
I inquire not now into the reasonableness of your
opinions ; but are not these clergy now in many
districts reduced to actual destitution with the misery
of their flocks ? What interest, I ask again, for which
party was intended, can outlive the ruin of our native
land ? " This is the declaration of one of the most
eminent of the Irish Protestants. Is this declaration
false, and do you still maintain that the Union Act is
your great charter ? Beggary, insult, the sneers of
English prelates, tithe reductions of twenty per cent. —
THE ULSTERMEN 123 f
are these your ancient privileges ? If so, stand to the
Union, and kiss the hand that has given you gall and
wormwood to drink ! If so, stand to the Union, and
be the history of Irish Protestantism henceforth the
history of debasement ! If so, stand to the Union,
and let the spires of your churches mark the way by
which slaves may crawl, like bruised and bleeding
worms, to the grave ! In the summer of 1845 there
was a purer blood rushing through your veins ; and,
from the hills of the south, there were eyes that strained
and glistened, day after day, from the rising to the
setting of the sun, as they looked towards that river,
into which your forefathers knocked the crown of a
craven king, for there a splendid spectacle had been
predicted. Do you forget the prediction ? Do you
forget the menace which the Evening Mail flung in
the face of England, when her Prime Minister was
warned that " a hundred thousand Orangemen, with
their colours flying, might yet meet a hundred thousand
Repealers on the banks of the Boyne, and, on a field
presenting so many_ solemn reminiscences to all, sign
the Magna Charta of Ireland's independence ? " Why
has that rapturous menace been withdrawn ? Repeal
would deliver you into the hands of the priests — a
penal code would exclude the Protestant from the
privileges of the citizen — the Union has made him a
beggar, but Repeal would make him a slave ! You
might as well predict that there will be a Smithfield
fire in College Green, and a Spanish Inquisition in the
House of Lords, where your victories of Aughrim and
the Boyne are worked in gorgeous tapestry upon the
walls. I say here, what I said in Cork — and I am the
more anxious to repeat it, because it has been censured
— I say, that there is a spirit growing up, amongst
the young Catholics of Ireland, which will not bend to
124 MEAGHER OF THE SWORD
any clerical authority beyond the sanctuary — a spirit
which will not permit the priesthood of any religion
to hold a political power greater than that which any
other class of citizens possess — a spirit which would
raise the banner of revolt against the pulpit, if the
pulpit preached intolerance to the people — a spirit
which would level the altar to the dust, before the bigot
had stained it with the sacrifices of the scaffold. Catholic
ascendancy 1 It is a ghost that frightens you, and,
whilst you stand trembling before it, the Union, which
is no ghost, is playing the thief behind your back.
The Unionist tells you not to trust the Catholic, and, in
your panic, you forget who robbed you of the ten
mitres and the corporations. Away with the evil
coimsellor ! In Rome, the Jew and Christian have
embraced. There is a creed which includes all other
creeds — a creed common to the synagogue, the cathedral,
and the mosque. The genius of the poor weaver of
Belfast, whose lyrics are the brightest treasures you
possess, has annoimced it to you : —
" And though ten thousand altars bear
On each for Heaven a different prayer,
By light of moon, or Ught of sun.
At Freedom's we must all be one."
This is the creed which we profess — and the place-
beggar calls it " infidehty." The place-beggar — ^that
figure with two faces — like the Marquis of Rockingham,
described by Grattan — one face turned towards the
Treasury, and the other presented to the people, and,
with a double tongue, speaking contradictory languages.
You disapprove- of place-begging, I understand. And
why not ? This country can never be independent,
whilst it is a recruiting depot for the English Whigs,
or any other English faction, that frets and fights for
THE ULSTERMEN 125
salary behind the benches of St. Stephen's. Orange-
men of Ireland ! — stand to your colours — keep up your
anniversaries— but do not damn the Pope at the skirts
of England. Burn Guy Fawkes, but in the flames let
not the writings of Molyneux be consumed. Radicals
of Ireland ! — claim the ballot — claim the household
suffrage — claim annual or triennial parliaments — ^but
claim them from a native parliament. Of the House
of Russell scorn to be the scavengers. Imitate, in this
respect, that nation from whose corn-law majorities,
sugar-bill majorities, coercion-bill majorities, we struggle
to emancipate ourselves. Be antagonists in religion —
be antagonists in the science of legislation — ^but com-
bine for the common right — combine for self-govern-
ment. Is this absurd ? Is this impracticable ? Con-
sult the oracles of Exeter Hall — consult the oracles of
the Catholic Institute. High above them both flies
the ensign of St. George, and though the war of sects
is waged beneath, no hand is ever raised to tear it
down and fling it to a foreign foe. Interrogate the
cotton lord of Manchester — interrogate the corn monopo-
list of Buckinghamshire — and see if they would not link
their forces — artisans and farmers — if a camp, like that
of 1803, threatening an invasion, were descried from
the cliffs of Dover. A union of parties, then, in the
name of national independence, is not impracticable.
But the acquisition of independence is impossible.
What ! the public opinion of Ireland is a feather in the
scales of the British Constitution !, Is that the con-
clusion you have come to ? Have you tried your
weight at all ? You have not ; and before you assert
that you are not up to the mark, you are bound to make
the experiment. In God's name, then, let the experi-
ment be made ! To raise this kingdom to the position
of an independent state should be the passionate
126 MEAGHER OF THE SWORD
ambition of all its citizens. Gifted, as she has been,
with fine capacities for power, it is a crime to tolerate
the influence by which those capacities are restrained.
In the profusion of its resources, the will of heaven,
that this land should be blessed with affluence, has
been nobly signified. Nor have the intimations of
that will been less distinctly traced in the character
of its people. The generous passion, the vivid intellect,
the rapturous faith, are visible through aU their
vicissitudes, their errors, and their vices. For a
destination the most exalted, we behold, in every
arrangement, facilities the most adequate. Shall the
dispensations of Providence be contravened, through
the timorous inactivity of man ? In a sluggish
acquiescence to the sword of conquest, and the law of
rapine, are we to witness the profane rejection of that
charter, which, through these dispensations, instructs
us to be free, and empowers us to be great ? A right
noble philosophy has taught us, that God has divided
this world into those beautiful systems, called nations,
each of which, fulfilling its separate mission, becomes
an essential benefit to the rest. To this Divine arrange-
ment will you alone refuse to conform, siurrendering the
position, renouncing the responsibility, which you have
been assigned ? Other nations, with abilities far less
eminent than those which you possess, having great
difficulties to encounter, have obeyed, with heroism,
the commandment — from which you have swerved —
maintaining that noble order of existence, through
which even the poorest state becomes an instructive
chapter in the great history of the world. Shame
upon you ! Switzerland — ^without a colony, without a
gun upon the seas, without a helping hand from any
court in Europe — ^has held, for centuries, her footing
on the Alps ; spite of the avalanche, has bid her little
THE ULSTERMEN 127
territory sustain, in peace and plenty, the children to
whom she has given birth ; has trained those children
up in the arts that contribute most to the security,
the joy, the dignity of life ; has taught them to depend
upon themselves, and for their fortune to be thankful
to no officious stranger ; and, though a blood-red
cloud is breaking, even whilst I speak, over one of her
brightest lakes, whatever plague it may portend, be
assured of this, the cap of foreign despotism will never
gleam again in the market-place of Altorff. Shame
upon you ! Norway — ^with her scanty population,
scarce a million strong — has kept her flag upon the
Categat ; has reared a race of gallant sailors to guard
her frozen soil ; year after year has nursed upon that
soil a harvest to which the Swede can lay no claim ;
has saved her ancient laws, and, to the spirit of her
frank and hardy sons, commits the freedom which she
rescued from the allied swords, when they hacked her
crown at Frederichstadt. Shame upon you ! Greece
— " whom the Goth, nor Turk, nor Time, hath spared
not " — ^has flung the crescent from the Acropolis ; has
crowned a king in Athens, whom she calls her own ;
has taught you that a nation should never die ; that
not for an idle pageant has the blood of heroes flowed —
that not to vex a school-boy's brain, nor smoulder in
a heap of learned dust, has the fire of heaven issued
from the tribune's tongue. Shame upon you ! Holland
— with the ocean as her foe — from the swamp in which
you would have sunk your graves, has bid the palace,
and the warehouse, costlier than the palace, rear their
ponderous shapes above the waves that battle at their
base ; has outstripped the merchant of the Rialto ;
has threatened England in the Thames ; has swept
the Channel with her broom ; and though, for a day,
she reeled before the bayonets of Dumouriez, she
128 MEAGHER OF THE SWORD
sprang to her feet again, and with the cry — " Up, up
with the House of Orange ! " — struck the Tricolour
from her dykes. And you — ^you, who are eight million
strong ; you, who boast, at every meeting, that this
island is the finest which the sun looks down upon ;
you, who have no threatening sea to stem — ^no avalanche
to dread ; you, who say that you could shield along
your coast a thousand sail, and be the princes of a
mighty commerce ; you, who by the magic of an
honest hand, beneath each summer sky, might cull a
plenteous harvest from your soil, and with the sickle
strike away the scythe of death ; you; who have no
vulgar history to read ; you, who can trace, from field
to field, the evidences of a civilisation older than the
conquest — ^the relics of a religion more ancient than the
gospel ; you, who have thus been blessed, thus been
gifted, thus been prompted to what is wise and generous,
and great ; you will make no effort ; you will whine,
and beg, and skulk, in sores and rags, upon this favoured
land ; you will congregate in drowsy councils, and,
when the very earth is loosening beneath your feet,
respectfully suggest new clauses and amendments to
some blundering bill ; you will strike the poor-rate —
ay, fifteen shillings in the pound ! — and mortgage the
last acre of your estates ; you will bid a prosperous
voyage to your last grain of corn ; you will be beggared
by the million ; you will perish by the thousand ; and
the finest island which the sun looks upon, amid the
jeers and hootings of the world, will blacken into a
plague-spot, a wilderness, a sepulchre ! God of Heaven !
shall these things come to pass ? What say you,
yeomen of the north ? Has the Red Hand withered ?
Shall the question be always asked at Innishowen —
" Has the time come ? " — and shall no heroic voice
reply — " It has. Arise ! " Swear that the rule of
THE ULSTERMEN 129
England is unjust, illegal, and a grievance. Swear it,
that, henceforth, you shall have no lawgivers, save the
Queen, the Lords, and Commons of the kingdom.
Swear it, that, as you have been the garrison of England
for years, from this out you will be the garrison of
Ireland. Swear it, that the flag which floats next
summer from the battlements of Derry shall bear the
inscription of Dungannon. Swear it, that you shall
have another anniversary to celebrate — ^that another
obelisk shall cast its shadow on the Bojme — ^that, here-
after, your children, descending to that river, may say
— " This is to the memory of our fathers ; they were
proud of the victory which their grandsires won upon
these banks, but they ambitioned to achieve a victory
of their own ; their grandsires fought and conquered
for a king ; our fathers fought and conquered for a
nation — ^be their memories pious, glorious, and im-
mortal ! "
Mitchel's Policy
Speech in the Pillar Room of the Rotunda,
ON THE Policy of the Irish Confederation,
February, 1848.
Sir, I beg leave to say a few words upon the question
before the chair. They shall be very few indeed, for
I find myself engaged in this debate quite unexpectedly.
I arrived from England at rather a late hour this
morning, and it was not until my arrival here that I
was made acquainted with the proceedings of the last
two evenings. Such being the case, I now speak under
very unfavourable circumstances, for I speak without
that preparation which the importance of the question
requires. Previous to my going into the question at
issue, however, I beg to express — and I do so sincerely
— the same sentiment as that to which Mr. Reilly, in
the commencement of his speech, gave utterance. I
trust that we who are about to conclude this discussion,
may not, by any mishap, disturb the good feelings
that have prevailed all through it ; and I fervently pray,
that, in this conflict of opinions, we shall preserve those
feelings which have so long united us in a sincere and
devoted companionship. Now, as to the question
before us, I think that Mr. Mitchel has brought it,
most conveniently for me, into the smallest possible
space. The real question (he says) which we have to
decide is, whether we are to keep to constitutional and
parliamentary agitation or not ? Precisely so ; you
130
MITCEEL'S POLICY 131
have to decide nothing less, and nothing more than
this — ^whether " constitutional agitation " is to be given
up, or to be sustained. This is the one, simple point
that we are to determine ; for, upon all other points,
connected with the policy and action of the Con-
federation, there appears to be, amongst us all, perfect
concurrence of opinion. At all events, whatever de-
cision you may come to, with regard to the utility of
our pursuing, any further, a constitutional course of
action, I believe that, by this time, we have become
quite agreed, that all this vague talk should cease,
with which your ears have been vexed for so long a
period. All this vague talk about a " crisis is at
hand " — " shouts of defiance " — " Louis Philippe is
upwards of seventy " — " France remembers Waterloo "
— " the first gun fired in Europe " — all this obscure
babble — all this meaningless mysticism — must be swept
away. Ten thousand guns, fired in Europe, would
announce no glad tidings to you, if their lightning
flashed upon you in a state of disorganisation and
incertitude. Sir, I know of no nation that has won its
independence by an accident. Trust blindly to the
future — ^wait for the tide in the affairs of men which,
taken at the flood, may lead to fortune — envelop
yourselves in the mist — ^leave everything to chance —
and be assured of this, the most propitious opportvinities
will rise and pass away, leaving you still to chance —
masters of no weapons — scholars of no science — in-
competent to decide — irresolute to act — ^powerless to
achieve. This was the great error of the Repeal
Association. From a labjnrinth of difficulties, there
was no avenue opened to success. The people were
kept within this labyrinth — ^they moved round and
round — ^backwards and forwards — ^there was perpetual
motion, but no advance. In this bewilderment are
132 MEAGHER OF THE SWORD
you content to wander, until a sign appears in heaven,
and the mystery is disentangled by a miracle ? Have
you no clear intelligence to direct you to the right path,
and do you fear to trust your footsteps to the guidance
of that mind with which you have been gifted ? Do
you prefer to substitute a driftless superstition in
place of a determined system — groping and fumbling
after possibilities, instead of seizing the agencies
within your reach ? This, indeed, would be a blind
renunciation of your powers, and thus, indeed, the
virtue you prize so justly — the virtue of self-reliance
— ^would be extinguished in you. To this you will
not consent. You have too sure a confidence in the
resources you possess to leave to chance what you
can accomplish by design. A deliberate plan of action
is, then, essential — something positive — something
definite. Now, there are but two plans for our con-
sideration — ^the one, within the law : the other, without
the law. Let us take the latter. And I will, then,
ask you — is an insurrection practicable ? Prove to
me that it is, and I, for one, will vote for it this very
night. You know well, my friends, that I am not
one of those tame moralists who say that liberty is
not worth a drop of blood. Men who subscribe to
such a maxim are fit for out-door relief, and for nothing
better. Against this miserable maxim, the noblest
virtue that has served and sanctified humanity, appears
in judgment. From the blue waters of the Bay of
Salamis — from the valley, over which the sun stood
still, and lit the Israelite to victory — from the cathedral,
in which the sword of Poland has been sheathed in the
shroud of Kosciousko — from the convent of St. Isidore,
where the fiery hand that rent the ensign of St. George
upon the plains of Ulster, has crumbled into dust —
from the sands of the desert, where the wild genius of
MITCHEL'S POLICY 133
the Algerine so long had scared the eagle of the
Pyrennees — from the ducal palace in this kingdom,
where the memory of the gallant Geraldine enhances,
more than royal favour, the nobility of his race — ^from
the solitary grave which, within this mute city, a dying
request has left without an epitaph — oh ! from every
spot where heroism has had a sacrifice or a triumph, a
voice breaks in upon the cringing crowd that cheers
this wretched maxim, crying out — " Away with it,
away with it." Would to God that we could take
every barrack in the island this night, and with our
blood purchase back the independence of the country !
It is not, then, a pedantic reverence for common law
— ^it is not a senseless devotion to a diadem and sceptre
— it is not a whining solicitude for the preservation of
the species — that dictates the vote I give this night in
favour of a constitutional movement. I do so, not
from choice, but from necessity. Gentlemen, I support
this constitutional policy, not from choice, but from
necessity. My strongest feelings are in favour of the
policy advised by Mr. Mitchel. I wish to heavens
that I could defend that policy. It is a policy which
calls forth the noblest passions — it kindles genius,
generosity, heroism — ^it is far removed from the tricks
and crimes of politics — for the young, the gallant, and
the good, it has the most powerful attractions. In
the history of this kingdom, the names that burn
above the dust and desolation of the past — ^like the
lamps in the old sepulchres of Rome — shed their glory
round the principles, of which a deep conviction of
our weakness compels me this night to be the opponent.
And in being their opponent, I almost blush to think,
that the voice of one whose influence is felt through
this struggle more powerfully than any other, and
whose noble lyrics will bid our cause to live for ever —
134 MEAGHER OF THE SWORD
I almost blush to think, that this voice, which speaks
to us in these glorious lines —
" And the beckoning angels win you on, with many a radiant
vision,
Up the thorny path to glory, where man receives his crown — "
should be disobeyed, and that, for a time at least,
we must plod on in the old course, until we acquire
strength, and discipline, and skill — discipline to steady,
skill to direct, strength to enforce the claim of a united
nation. To an insurrectionary movement, the priest-
hood are opposed. To an insurrectionary movement,
the middle classes are opposed. To an insurrectionary
movement, the aristocracy are opposed. To give effect
to this opposition, 50,000 men, equipped and paid by
England, occupy the country at this moment. Who,
then, are for it ? The mechanic and the peasant
classes, we are told. These classes, you will tell us,
have lost all faith in legal agencies, and, through such
agencies, despair of the slightest exemption from their
suffering. Stung to madness — day from day gazing
upon the wreck and devastation that surround them,
until the brain whirls like a ball of fire — ^they see but
one red pathway, lined with gibbets and hedged with
bayonets, leading to deliverance ! But will that
pathway lead them to deliverance ? Have these
classes, upon which alone you now rely, the power
to sweep, like a torrent, through that pathway, dashing
aside the tremendous obstacles which confront them ?
You know they have not. Without discipline, without
arms, without food — ^beggared by the law, starved by
the law, diseased by the law, demoralised by the law —
opposed to the might of England, they would have
the weakness of a vapour (A voice, " No, no "). Yes,
but you have said so ; for what do you maintain ?
MlTCHEL'S POLICY 135
You maintain that an immediate insurrection is not
designed. Well, then, you confess your weakness ;
and, then, let me ask you, what becomes of the ob-
jection you urge against the policy we propose ? The
country cannot afford to wait until the legal means
have been fully tested — that is your objection. And
yet, you will not urge an immediate movement — ^you
will not deal with the disease upon the spot — you will
permit it to take its course — ^your remedy is remote.
Thus, it appears, there is delay in both cases — so,
upon this question of time, we are entitled to pair
off. But, at no time, you assert, will legal means
prevail — ^public opinion is nonsense — constitutional
agitation is a downright delusion. Tell me, then, was
it an understanding, when we founded the Irish Con-
federation, this time twelvemonth, that if public
opinion failed to Repeal the Act of Union in a year,
at the end of the year it should be scouted as a " hum-
bug ? " When you established this Confederation in
January, 1847 — ^when you set up for yourselves — did
you agree with " public opinion " for a year only ?
Was that the agreement, and will you now serve it
with a notice to quit ? If so, take my advice and
break up your establishment at once. You have no
other alternative, for the house will fall to pieces with
a servant of more unruly propensities. After all, look
to your great argument against the continuance of a
parliamentary or constitutional movement. The con-
stituencies are corrupt — ^they will not return virtuous
representatives — the tree shall be known by its /fruits !
The constituencies are knaves, perjurers, cowards, on
the hustings — they will be chevaliers, sans peur et sans
reproche, within the trenches ! The Thersites of the
polling-booth, will be the Achilles of the bivouac !
Your argument comes to this, that the constituencies
136 MEAGHER OF THE SWORD
of Ireland will be saved "so as by fire " — they will
acquire morality in the shooting gallery — and in the
art of fortification, they will learn the path to paradise.
These constituencies constitute the eliie of the de-
mocracy ; and is it you, who stand up for the democracy,
that urge this argument ? To be purified and saved,
do you decree that the nation must writhe in the
agonies of a desperate circumcision ? Has it not felt
the knife long since ? And if its salvation depended
upon the flow of blood, has it not poured out torrents
— into a thousand graves ! — deep enough, and swift
enough, to earn the blessing long before our day ?
Spend no more until you are certain of the purchase.
Nor do I wish, gentlemen, that this movement should
be a mere democratic movement. I desire that it
should continue to be what it has been, a national
movement not of any one class, but of all classes.
Narrow it to one class — decide that it shall be a demo-
cratic movement, and nothing else — ^what, then ?
You augment the power that is opposed to you — the
revolution will provoke a counter-revolution — Paris
will be attacked by the Emigrants, as well as by the
Austrians. You attach little importance to the instance
cited by Mr. Ross — Poland is no warning to you. The
Polish peasants cut the throats of the Polish nobles,
and before the Vistula had washed away the blood,
the free city of Cracow was proclaimed a dimgeon.
So much for the war of classes. But, there is the
French Revolution — the revolution of Mirabeau, of La
Fayette, of Vergniaud. There, you say, is democracy,
triumphant against the aristocracy, wiiming the liberty
of the nation ! How long did that triumph last ?
Madame de Genlis took the present King of France,
when he was only eighteen years of age, to see the
ruins of the Bastile. To read him the lessons of liberty
MITCH EL'S POLICY 137
she brought him there. And did the son of Philippe
Egalite learn the lessons of liberty from those great
fragments, upon which the fierce hand of the French
democracy had left its curse ? He learnt a very
different lesson — he learnt to rebuild the prison — he
learnt to plant his throne within the circle of a hundred
bastiles — and it is thus that the democracy of -the
revohition has triumphed. No ; I am not for a demo-
cratic, but I am for a national movement — not for a
movement like that of Paris in 1793, but for a move-
ment like that of Brussels in 1830 — ^like that of Palermo
in 1848. Should you think differently, say so. If you
are weary of this " constitutional movement " — if you
despair of this " combination of classes " — declare so
boldly, and let this night terminate the career of the
Irish Confederation. Do not spare the Confederation,
if you have lost all hope in constitutional exertion. If
you despair of the middle classes and the aristocracy,
vote its extinction — renounce the principles you have
so long maintained — precipitate yourselves into an
abyss, the depth of which you know not — and let the
world witness the spectacle of your death — a death
which shall be ignominious, for it shall have been self-
designed and self-inflicted ! Yet, upon the brink of
this abyss, listen, for a moment, to the voice which
speaks to you from the vaults of Mount Saint Jerome ;
and if you distrust the advice of the friend who now
addresses you — one who has done something to assist
you, and who, I believe, has not been unfaithful to
you in some moments of difficulty, and, perhaps, of
danger — if you do not trust me, listen, at least, to the
voice of one who has been carried to his grave amid
the tears and prayers of all classes of his countrymen,
and of whose courage and whose truth there has never
yet been uttered the slightest doubt : "Be bold, but
138 MEAGHER OF THE SWORD
wise — ^be brave, but sober — ^patient, earnest, striving,
and untiring. You have sworn to be temperate for
your comfort here and your well-being hereafter. Be
temperate now for the honour, the happiness, the
immortality of your country — act trustfully and truth-
fully one to another — ^watch, wait, and leave the rest
to God."
A Reply to the Placehunters
Speech at the Waterford Hustings, March 4TH,
1848.
Mr. Sheriff and gentlemen, electors of the city of
Waterford, I stand before you convicted of a most
serious crime. I have claimed the representation of
my native city ; and, my opponents tell me, I have
claimed it with an effrontery which can never be for-
given. I, who have stretched out my hand to the
Orangemen of Ulster, and from that spot, where the
banner of King James was rent by the sword of William,
have passionately prayed for the extinction of those
feuds which have been transmitted to us through the
rancorous blood of five generations. — ^I, who have
presumed to say, that the God, by whose will I breathe,
has given to me a mind that should not cringe and
crawl along the earth, but should expand and soar,
and, in the rapture of its free will, exultingly pursue
its own career. — I, who have dared to assert the
sovereignty of this mind, and, ambitious to preserve in
it the charter and inheritance I had from heaven,
have disdained to be the slave of one, whom, were it
not an impious perversion of the noblest gift of God, it
might have been no ignominy to serve. — I, who have
been spurned from the hearse of the Catholic emanci-
pator, and am stained with the blood which his retinue,
with such a decent resentment, have filched from his
coffin and dashed in my face.^— I, who have rushed
through this career of criminality, and have thus
139
140 MEAGHER OF THE SWORD
been soiled and stigmatised, have had the daring to
stand here this day, and claim, through your suffrages,
an admission to the senate of empire ! This act of
mine has been pronounced to be without parallel in
the records of the most intemperate presumption, has
been so pronounced by those eminent politicians of our
city, who so long have swayed its destinies to their own
account. Should their censure fail to extinguish me,
is there not, in other quarters, an envious ability at
work with which I have not strength sufficient to
compete ? Has not the Loyal National Repeal
Association declared against me ? And is it possible
— ^possible ! — that you will be so degenerate and
seditious as to spurn this attempt to tamper with your
votes ? What, then, inspires me to proceed ? Against
this sea of troubles, what strength have I to beat my
way towards that bold headland, upon which I have
sworn to plant the flag I have rescued from the wreck ?
JWeak, reckless, bewildered youth ! — ^with those clouds
breaking above my head — ^with cries of vengeance
ringing in my ears — ^what sign of hope glitters along
the waters ? There is a sign of hope — the people are
standing on this headland, and they beckon me to
advance ! Yes, the people are with me in this struggle,
and it is this that gives nerve to my arm, and passion
to my heart. Whilst they are with me, I will face the
worst — I can defy the boldest — I may despise the
proudest. You who oppose me, look to the generous
and impetuous crowd, in the heart of which I was
borne to the steps of this hcill ; and tell me — in that
crowd, do you not find some slight apology for the
crime of which, in your impartial judgments, I stand
convicted ? Does not that honest thrift, that bold
integrity, that precipitate enthusiasm, plead in my
defence, and, by the decree of the people, has not my
REPLY TO THE PLACEHUNTERS 141
crime become a virtue ? By this decree, has not the
sentence against the culprit, the anarchist, the infidel,
been reversed ? By this decree, I say, have not these
infamous designations been swept away ? and here,
asserting the independence of the Island, shall I not
recognise, in the justice of the people, their title to
accept an eminent responsibility — ^their ability to attain
an exalted destination ? You say " no," to all this —
you gentlemen of the Corporation and the Repeal
news-room. Ah ! you are driving the old coach still.
You will not give way to modern improvements — ^you
are behind your time most sadly — conservative of error,
intolerant of truth. Is it not so ? Is not your cry
still the hackneyed cry—" You have differed with
O'Connell — you have maligned O'Connell." You meet
me, gentlemen, with these two accusations, and to
these accusations you require an answer. The answer
shall be concise and blunt. The first accusation, that
I have differed with O'Connell, is honourably true.
The second accusation, that I have maligned O'Connell,
is malignantly false. It is true that I differed with
Mr. O'Connell, and I glory in the act by which I for-
feited the confidence of slaves, arid won the sanction
of independent citizens. I differed with him, for I
was conscious of a free soul, and felt that it would be
an abdication of existence to consign it to captivity.
Was this a crime ? Do you curse the man who will not
barter the priceless jewel of his soul ? To be your
favourite — ^to win your honours — must I be a slave ?
What ! was it for this that you were called forth from
the dust upon which you trample ? What ! was it for
this you were gifted with that eternal strength, by
which you can triumph over the obscurity of a plebeian
birth — ^by which you can break through the conceits
and laws of fashion — ^by which you can cope with the
143 MEAGHER OF THE SWORD
craft of the thief and the genius of the tyrant — ^by
which you can defy the exactions of penury, and rear
a golden prosperity amid the gloom of the garret, and
the pestilence of the poorhouse — ^by which you can
step from height to height, and shine far above the
calamities with which you struggled, and from which
you sprung — ^by which you can traverse the giddy
seas, and be a light and glory to the tribes that sit in
darkness and the shadow of death — ^by which you can
mount beyond the clouds, and sweep the silver fields,
where the stars fulfil their mysterious missions — ^by
which you can gaze, without a shudder, upon the
sc3^he and shroud of death, and, seeing the grave
opened at your feet, can look beyond it, and feel that
it is but the narrow passage to a luminous immortality.
What ! was it to cramp, to sell, to play the trickster
and the trifler with this eternal strength that you were
called forth to walk this sphere — to be, for a time, the
guest of its bounty and the idolater of its glory ?
Gentlemen, from this ground I shall not descend, to
seek, in little details, the vindication of my difference
with Mr. O'Connell. It was my right to differ with
him, if I thought him wrong ; and upon that right, in
the name of truth and freedom, I take my stand. Let
no man gainsay that right. It is stamped upon the
throne of the everlasting hills, and the hand that strives
to blot it out conspires against the dignity of man and
the benevolence of God. And yet, were it my desire
to play a petty part upon this day — ^my desire to
vindicate the conducj, in which I glory, upon low
and shifting grounds— ^I might tell you, gentlemen of
the old school, that in the career of Mr. O'Connell it is
easy to find a justification of the " insubordination "
you impugn. The Rev. Mr. O'Shea, who I am very
happy to perceive in the " omnibus box " on my right
REPLY TO THE PLACEHUNTERS 143
— he told you, at the meeting in the Town Hall, on last
Monday week, that I had just as much right to differ
with Mr. O'Connell, as Mr. O'Connell had to differ with
Mr. Grattan. The difference between Mr. 'O'Connell
and Mr. Grattan occurred in July, 18 13. What was
Mr. O'Connell at that time ? He was a young man —
a man who had done little or no service to his country,
and he had certainly advanced a very short way towards
that commanding position in which we beheld him a
few months since. But what of Henry Grattan ?
Henry Grattan, at that time, was venerable for his
years and services. His grey hairs were encircled with
a crown of glory, and, as he sat in the Senate Hall of
England, men gazed upon him with a noble pity ; for
in his weak, and pale, and shrivelled form, they beheld
the shadow of that power by which, in 1782, the dead
came forth, and the sepulchre was clad in beauty — by
which the province became a kingdom, and, stirred by
his rushing genius, rose from her bed in the ocean, and
got nearer to the sun. And did the young O'Conjiell
blast his prospects by his difference with the great Irish
citizen ? On this account did vulgar tongues — did
poisoned pens assail the daring Catholic ? For this,
was he scoffed at as an infidel — hooted as a traitor to
his country — outlawed as the murderer of her deliverer ?
No. I tell you, gentlemen — you, who are in that in-
convenient corner there, and think you represent the
city — I tell you this, that public men were more just
and chivakous in the days o'f Grattan than they are
in yours ; and if in the war of parties there might
have been a keener enmity, there was assuredly less
falsehood, and less cant. I am now done with this
accusation, and being done with it, I beg leave to tell
you, that this is the last time I shall apologise for having
refused to be a slave. Call it vanity— call it ingratitude
144 MEAGHER OF THE SWORD
call it treachery— -call it, as your prototype, Justice
Dogberry, would have called it — call it house-breaking
or flat perjury — call it by any name you please — from
henceforth I shall but smile at the intolerant dictation
that will utter, and the mischievous credulity that will
cheer, an accusation so preposterous and fictitious. Nor
is it my intention to touch, in the slightest degree,
upon the other counts in the indictment that has been
preferred against me. The first count is the only one
for which I entertain the least respect, so that I deeply
sympathise with the reverend gentleman who has taken
such profane and profitless trouble to provoke me.
However, if he really desires that I should satisfy him
upon those points to which, with such priestly decorum,
he has so vehemently referred — I may, perhaps, console
him by the assurance that, in the statement of the
grounds upon which I seek the representation of this
city, that satisfaction may be gained. This statement
will be very brief. I am an enemy of the Legislative
Union — an enemy of that Union in every shape and
form that it may assume — an enemy of that Union
whatever blessing it may bring — an enemy of that
Union whatever sacrifice its extinction may require.
Maintain the Union, gentlemen, and maintain your
beggary. Maintain the Union, and maintain your
bankruptcy. Maintain the Union, and maintain yolir
famine. Tolerate the usurpation which the EngUsh
parliament has achieved, and you tolerate the power
in which your resources, your energies, yom: institutions
are absorbed. Tolerate the rigour of the EngUsh Con-
servatives — ^their proclamations and state prosecutions
— ^tolerate the English Whigs — ^their smiles and compli-
ments — ^their liberal appointments, and modified coercion
bills — and you tolerate the two policies through which
the statesmen of England have alternately managed.
Patrick O'Donoghue
REPLY TO THE PLACEHUNTERS 145
ruled, and robbed this country. On the morning of
the i8th of October, in the year 1172, upon the broad
waters of our native Suir, the spears and banners of a
royal pirate were glittering in the sun. Did the old
city of the Ostmen send forth a shout of defiance as
the splendid pageant moved up the stream, and flung
its radiance on our walls ? No ; from these walls no
challenge was hurled at the foe ; but, from the tower
of Reginald, the grey eye of a stately soldier glistened
as they came, and whilst he waved his hand, and showed
the keys of the city he had won, the name of Strongbow
was heard amid the storm of shouts that rocked the
galleys to and fro. He was the first adventurer that
set his heel on Irish soil in the name of England ; and
he — the sleek the cautious, and the gallant Strongbow
— ^was the type and herald of that plague with which
this Island has been cursed for seven desolating
centuries. The historian Holinshed has said of him,
that " what he could not compass by deeds, he won by
good works and gentle speeches." Do you not find in
this short sentence an exact description of that despot-
ism which has held this Island from the day? of Strong-
bow, the archer, down to our own — the days of Claren-
don, the green-crop lecturer. By force or fraud — ^by
steel or gold — by threat or smile — ^by liberal appoint-
ments or speedy executions — ^by jail deliveries or
special commissions — by dinners in the Park or massacres
at Clontarf — by the craft of the thief or the genius of
the tyrant — they have held this Island ever since that
morning in October, 1172 ; seducing those whom they
could not terrify — slaying those whom they could
neither allure nor intimidate. Thus may the history
of the Enghsh connection be told — a black, a boisterous
night, in which there shone but one brief interval of
peace and lustre ! Friends and foes ! — you who cheer,
10
146 MEAGHER OF THE SWORD
and you who hiss me (Cries from the Old Ireland party
— " No one hissed you."). Well, then, you who cheer,
and you who curse me — sons of the one soil — inheritors
of the one destiny — look back to that interval, and,
for an instant, contemplate its glory. Now, you who
quake and quiver when I insist upon the right of this
country to be held, governed, and defended by its own
citizens, and by them alone — ^you who are so industrial
in your projects, and so constitutional in your efforts
— what do you say to your fathers, the actors in that
scene ? Conservatives of Waterford, who were the
officers in the Irish army that occupied our Island on
the i6th of April, 1782 ? Call the muster-roll, and at
the head pf the regiments levied in Waterford, the
Alcocks, the Carews, the Boltons, the Beresfords, will
appear. And will you, gentlemen — the grand jmrors
of the city and the county — forswear the right of
which they were the champions ? Will that which
was loyalty in the fathers be sedition in the sons ?
Time does not change virtue into vice. Do not scruple,
then, to revive the sentiments of those whose name
you bear, and to whose principles — if you have any
pride of ancestry — you should ambitiously adhere.
You have stood aloof too long from the people, of whose
integrity in this contest you have had so startling an
attestation ; and deterred by vague fears and vaguer
prejudices, you have leant most cringingly upon
England, instead of trusting manfully to yourselves.
Identify yourselves with the hopes, the ideas, the
labomrs of your country ; make the .country your own,
and make it worthy of your pride. Form for the future
no mean estimate of its powers ; assign to it no narrow
space for its career ; open to it the widest field — con-
ceive for it the boldest destiny. Repealers of Water-
ford — ^you who oppose me — is your resentment towards
REPLY TO THE PLACEHUNTERS 147
me (Great confusion, in which the rest of the sentence
was lost). Well, then, is "Old Ireland" still your
cry ? Old Ireland, indeed 1 I am not against Old
Ireland : but I am against the vices that have made
Ireland old. The enmity I bear to the Legislative
Union is not more bitter than the enmity I bear to
those practices and passions from which that Union
derives its ruinous vitality. Impatient for the inde-
pendence of my country — ^intolerant of every evil
that averts the blessing — I detest the bigot, and despise
the place-beggar. Who stands here to bless the bigot
or to cheer the place-beggar ? They are the worst
enemies of Ireland. The rancour of the one, and the
venality of the other, constitute the strongest forces
by which this Island is fettered in subjection. Down
with the bigot ! he who would sacrifice the nation to
the supremacy of his sect. Down with the bigot ! he
would persecute the courage which had truth for its
inspiration, and had humanity for its cause. Down
with the bigot ! he would banish the genius which, in
the distribution of its fruits, was generous to all creeds ;
and in the circle of its light would embrace every altar
in the land. Down with the place-beggar ! he would
traffic in a noble cause, and beg a bribe in the name of
liberty. Down with the place-beggar ! he would fawn
in private on the men whom he scourged in public, and
with his services sustain the usurpation his invectives
had assailed. Down with the place-beggar ! he would
thrive by traitorism ; and, in the enjoyment of his
salary, he would spurn the people upon whose shoulders
he had mounted to that eminence, from which he had
beckoned to the minister, and said — " Look here — a
slave for hire — a. slave of consequence — a valuable
slave — the people have confided in me." You have
now some notion of the principles upon which I stand.
J48 MEAGHER OF THE SWORD
Do you scout, detest these principles ? Do you think
them intolerant, profane, and impure ? Declare your
opinion, and decide my fate. If you declare against
my principles, you declare against the claim I have this
day urged. I can borrow no great name to hide my
own insignificance ; I have been the servant of no
government — the follower of no house. Without any
of those great influences to assist me, upon which
public men usually depend, I flung myself into this
struggle, trusting to the power of truth and the en-
thusiasm of the people. It was a daring act, yet there
is a wisdom sometimes in audacity. There was a bold
spirit slumbering amongst you — ^it required but one
bold act alone to startle it into a resolute activity. I
am guilty of that act, and I await the penalty. Punish
me, if you desire to retain your past character. Pre-
serve the famous motto of our ancient municipality
free from stain. As it was won by a slavish loyalty,
so maintain it by a sordid patriotism. Spurn me ! I
have been jealous of my freedom, and in the pursuit
of liberty I have scorned to work in shackles. Spurn
me ! I have fought my own way through the storm of
politics, and have played, I think, no coward's part
upon the way. Spurn me ! I loathe the gold of England,
and deem them slaves who would accept it. Spurn
me ! I will not beg a bribe for any of you — ^I will negotiate
no pedlar's bargain between the minister and the people.
Spurn me ! I have raised my voice against the tricks
and vices of Irish politics, and have preached the attain-
ment of a noble end by noble means. Spurn me ! I
have claimed the position and the powers which none
amongst you, save the tame and venal, will refuse to
demand, and in doing this I have acted as became a
free, unpehsioned citizen.
Repeal or a Republic
Speech in the Music Hall, March iith, 1848, at a
Meeting of the Irish Confederation, in Moving
THE Adoption of an Address to the Citizens
of Dublin.!
Citizens of Dublin, I move the adoption of that
address. In doing so, I will follow the advice of my
friend, Mr. M'Gee. This is not the time for long
speeches. Everything we say here, just now, should
be short, sharp, and decisive. I move the adoption
of that address, for this reason — the instruction it
gives you, if obeyed, will keep you in possession of
that opportunity which the revolution of Paris has
created. The game is in your hands, at last ; and you
have a partner in the play upon whom you may depend.
Look towards the southern wave, and do you not find
it crimsoned with the flame in which the throne of
the Tuilleries has been consumed ? — and, borne upon
that wave, do you not hail the rainbow flag, which, a
few years since, glittered from the hills of Bantry ?
Has not France proclaimed herself the protectress of
weak nations, and is not the sword of the Republic
pledged to the oppressed nationalities which, in Europe,
and elsewhere, desire to reconstruct themselves ? The
feet that have trampled upon the sceptre of July
have trampled upon the Treaty of Vienna. Hence-
forth the convenience of kings wiU be shghtly
consulted by France, where the necessities of a people
1 At this meeting an address to the French Provisional
Government was also adopted ; and the address, which
Meagher moved, called upon the people not to be led into a
premature rismg on the 17th of March, for which the Govern-
inent were formidably prepared.
149
150 MEAGHER OF THE SWORD
manifest themselves. But do not wait for France. Do
not beg the blood which, on the altar of the Madeleine,
she consecrates to the service of humanity. Do not
purchase yomr independence at the expense of those
poor workmen, whose heroism has been so impetuous,
so generous, so tolerant. It is sufficient for us, that
the Republic — ^to use the language of Lamartine —
shines from its place upon the horizon of nations, to
instruct and guide them. Listen to these instructions
— accept this guidance — and be confident of success.
Fraternise ! — I will use the word, though the critics
of the Castle reject it as the cant of the day — I will
use it, for it is the spell-word of weak nations.
Fraternise ! — as the citizens of Paris have done ;
and in the clasped hands which arch the colossal car
in that great funeral procession of the 4th of March,
behold the sign in which your victory shall be won.
Do you not redden at the thoughts of your contemptible
factions — ^their follies — and their crimes ? Do you not
see, that every nation with a sensible head and an
upright heart, laughs at the poor profligate passion
which frets and fights for a straw in this parish — a
feather in that barony — a bubble in that river ? Have
you not learned by this, that, whilst you have been
fighting for those straws and bubbles, the country has
been wrenched from beneath your feet, and made over
to the brigands of the Castle ? And what enables
these sleek and silken brigands to hold your country ?
Have you fought them ? Have you struck blow for-
blow, and been worsted in the fight ? Think of it —
you marched against them a few years back, and when
you drew up before the Castle gates, you cursed and
cuffed each other — and then withdrew. Withdrew !
For what ? To repair the evil ? To reunite the
forces ? Ah, I will not sting you with these questions
REPEAL OR A REPUBLIC 151
— I will not sting myself. Let no Irishman look into
the past. He will be scared at the evidences of his
guilt — evidences which spring up, like weeds and
briars, in that bleak waste of ruins. Between us and
the past, let a wall arise, and, as if this day was the
first of our existence, let us advance together towards
that destiny, in the light of which this old Island shall
renew itself. Citizens — I use another of the " cant
phrases " of the day, for this, too, is a spell-word with
weak nations — I speak thus, in spite of circumstances
which withm the last few days — I allude to the addresses
from the University and the Orange Lodges — ^have
darkened the prospect of a national union. I speak
thus, in spite of that squeamish morality which decries
the inspiration of the time, and would check the lofty
passion which desires to manifest itself in arms. But,
I will not despair of this union, whoever may play the
factionist. The people will act for themselves, and in
their hands, the liberty of the country will not be com-
promised. At this startling moment — ^when your
fortunes are swinging in the balance — ^let no man dictate
to you. Trust to your own intelligence, sincerity, and
power. Do not place your prerogatives in commission
— ^the sovereign people should neither lend nor abdicate
the sceptre. As to the upper classes — respectable
circles of society — ^genteel nobodies — ^nervous aristocrats
— ^friends of order and starvation — of pestilence and
peace — of speedy hangings and green-cropping — as to
these conspirators against the life and dignity of this
Island, they must no longer be courted. They are
cowards, and when they know your strength, they will
cling to you for protection. Do I tell you to refuse this
protection ? Were I base enough to do so, you would
remind me that the revolution of Paris has been
immortalised by the clemency of the people. In my
152 MEAGHER OF THE SWORD
letter, last week, to the Council of the Confederation.
I stated it was not my wish to urge any suggestion as
to the course we should now pursue. Upon reflection,
however, I think I am called upon to declare to you my
opinion upon this question, for it would not be honour-
able, I conceive, for any prominent member of the
Confederation to shield himself at this crisis. And I
am the more anxious to declare my opinion upon this
question of ways and means, since I had not the good
fortune of being present at your two previous meetings,
and, perhaps, my absence may have occasioned some
suspicion. I think, then, that from a meeting — con-
stituted, as the Repealers of Kilkenny have suggested,
of delegates from the chief towns and parishes — a
deputation should proceed to London, and, in the
name of the Irish people, demand an interview with
the Queen. Should the demand be refused, let the
Irish deputies pack up their court dresses — as Benjamin
Franklin did, when repulsed from the court of George III
— and let them, then and there, make solemn oath,
that when they next demand an admission to the
throne room of St. James's, it shall be through the
accredited ambassador of the Irish Republic. Should
the demand be conceded, let the deputies approach
the throne, and, in firm and respectful terms, call upon
the Queen to exercise the royal prerogative, and summon
her Irish parliament to sit, and advise her, in the city
of Dublin. Should the call be obeyed — ^should the
sceptre touch the bier, and she " who is not dead, but
sleepeth," start, at its touch, into a fresh and luminous
existence — then, indeed, may we bless the Constitution
we have been taught to curse ; and Irish loyalty,
ceasing to be a mere ceremonious affectation, become,
with us, a sincere devotion to the just ruler of an
independent State. Should the claim be rejected —
REPEAL OR A REPUBLIC 153
should the throne stand as a barrier between the Irish
people and their supreme right — ^then loyalty will be
a crime, and obedience to the executive will be treason
to the country. I say it calmly, seriously, and de-
liberately — it will then be our duty to fight, and
desperately fight. The opinions of Whig statesmen
have been quoted here to-night — I beg to remind
you of Lord Palmerston's language in reference to the
insurrection at Lisbon, last September — " I say that
the people were justified in saying to the government,
If you do not give us a parliament in which to state
our wrongs and grievances, we shall state them by
arms and by force." I adopt those words, and I call
upon you to adopt them likewise. Citizens of Dubhn,
I know well what I may incur by the expression of
these sentiments — I know it well — ^therefore, let no
man indulgently ascribe them to ignorance or to idiotcy.
Were I more moderate — as some Whig sympathiser
would say — more sensible — as he might add, without
meaning anything personal, of course, — more practical
— as he would further beg leave to remark, without
at all meaning to deny that I possessed some excellent
points — in fact, and in truth, were I a temperate trifler,
a polished knave, a scientific dodger — I might promise
myself a pleasant life, many gay scenes, perhaps no
few privileges. Moderate, sensible, practical men, are
sure to obtain privileges just now. Paid poor-law
guardianships are plentiful, now-a-days, and the invita-
tions to the Castle are indiscriminate and innumerable.
But, I desire to be, neither moderate nor sensible,
neither sensible nor practical, in the sense attached to
these words by the polite and slavish circle, of which
his Excellency is the centre. It is the renunciation of
truth, of manhood, and of country — the renunciation
oi the noblest lessons with which the stately genjus
154 MEAGHER OF THE SWORD
of antiquity has crowned the hills of Rome, and
sanctified the dust of Greece — ^the renunciation of all
that is frank, and chivalrous, and inspiring — it is the
renunciation of all this which makes you acceptable
in the eyes of that meagre, spectral royalty, which
keeps " open house " for reduced gentlemen upon the
summit of Cork Hill. Better to swing from the gibbet,
than live and fatten on such terms as these. Better
to rot within the precincts of the common jail — ^when
the law has curbed your haughty neck, young traitor 1
— ^than be the moderate, sensible, practical villain,
which these Chesterfields of the Dublin promenades
and saloons would entreat you to be, for the sake of
society, and the success of the Whigs. But the hour
is on the stroke when these conceits and mockeries
shall be trampled in the dust. The storm which dashed
the crown of Orleans against the Column of July, has
rocked the foundations of the Castle. They have no
longer a safe bedding in the Irish soil. To the first
breeze which shakes the banners of the European
rivals they must give way. Be upon the watch, and
catch the breeze ! When the world is in arms — ^when
the silence, which, for two and thirty years, has reigned
upon the plain of Waterloo, at last is broken — then be
prepared to grasp your freedom with an armed hand,
and hold it with the same. In the meantime, take
warning from this address — " do not suffer your sacred
cause to be ruined by stratagem or surprise." Beware
of the ingenuity, the black art, of those who hold your
country. By your sagacious conduct, keep them
prisoners in their barracks on the 17th. There must be
no bloody joke at your expense amongst the jesters
and buffoons in St. Patrick's Hall upon that night.
Citizens of Dublin, you have heard my opinions. These
opinions may be very rash, but it would not be honest
REPEAL OR A REPUBLIC 155
to conceal them. The time has come for every Irish-
man to speak out. The address of the University
declares, that it is the duty of every man in the kingdom
to say, whether he be the friend, or the foe, of the
government. I think so, too, and I declare myself
the enemy of the government. But if I am rash — it
was Rome, it was Palermo, it was Paris, that made
me rash. Vexed by the indiscretion — ^the fanaticism —
of these cities, who can keep his temper — dole out
placid law — and play the gentle demagogue ? When
the sections of Paris were thickening, like the clouds
of a tempest, round the Tuilleries, in 1793, Louis XVI
put on his court dress, and, in his ruffles and silk
stockings, waited for the thunderbolt. Is it thus that
you will wait for the storm now gathering over Europe ?
Shall the language of the nation be the language of
the Four Courts ? Will the revolution be made with
rose-water ? Look up ! — look up ! — and behold the
incentives of the hour. By the waves of the Mediter-
ranean the Sicilian noble stands, and presents to you the
flag of freedom. From the steps of the Capitol, the
keeper of the sacred keys unfurls the banner that was
buried in the grave of the Bandieras, and invites you
to accept it. , From the tribune of the French Republic
where that gallant workman exclaimed — " Respect the
rights of property ! — the people have shown that they
will not be ill-governed — let them prove they know
how to use properly the victory they have won " —
frorn this tribune, where these noble words are uttered,
the hand of labour — ^the strong hand of God's nobility
— ^proffers you the flag of independence. Will you
refuse to take it ? Will you sneak away from' the noble,
the pontiff, and the workman ? Will you shut your
eyes to the splendours that surround you, and grope
your way in darkness to the grave ? Ah, pardon me
156 MEAGHER OF THE SWORD
this language — it is not the language which the awaken-
ing spirit of the country justifies. Taught by the
examples of Italy, of France, of Sicily, the citizens of
Ireland shall, at last, unite. To the enmities that
have snapped the ties of citizenship, there shall be a
wise and generous termination. Henceforth, the power
of the Island shall be lodged in one head, one heart,
one arm. One thought shall animate, one passion
shall inflame, one effort concentrate, the genius, the
enthusiasm, the heroism of the people. Thus united —
to repeat what I have said, before — ^let the demand for
the reconstruction of the nationaUty of Ireland be con-
stitutionally made. Depute your worthiest citizens
to approach the throne, and, before that throne, let
the will of the Irish people be uttered with dignity and
decision. If nothing comes of this — if the constitution
opens to us no path of freedom — if the Union will be
maintained in spite of the will of the Irish people — ^if
the government of Ireland insists upon being a govern-
ment of dragoons and bombardiers, of detectives and
light infantry — ^then, up with the barricades, and
invoke the God of Battles ! Should we succeed — oh !
think of the joy, the ecstasy, the glory of this old
Irish nation, which, in that hoiir, will grow young and
strong again. Should we fail — ^the country will not be
worse than it is now — ^the sword of famine is less
sparing than the bayonet of the soldier. And if we,
who have spoken to you in this language, should fall
with you — or if, reserved for a less glorious death, we
be flung to the vultures of the law — then shall we
recollect the words of France — ^recollect the promise
she has given to weak nations — and standing upon
the scaffold, within one heart's beat of eternity, our last
cry upon this earth shall be — " France ! France !
revenge us I "
Famine and Felony
Speech at the Soiree, Given by the Confederates
OF Limerick to Messrs. O'Brien, Meagher,
AND Mitchel, Previous to their Trials for
Sedition, May, 1848.
Mr. Chairman, Ladies, and Gentlemen, the occur-
rences of this evening do not dishearten me. I am
encouraged by your sympathy, and can, therefore,
forgive the rudeness of a mob. Nor do I conceive
that our cause is injured by these manifestations of
ignorance and immorahty. The mists from the marshes
obscure the sun — they do not taint — they do not ex-
tinguish it. Enough of this. The wrongs and perils
of the country must exclude from our minds every
other subject of consideration. From the summer of
1846 to the winter of 1847, the wing of an avenging
angel swept our soil and sky. The fruits of the earth
died, as the shadow passed, and they who had nursed
them into life read in the withered leaves that they,
too, should die ; and, dying, swell the red catalogue
of carnage in which the sins and splendours of that
empire — of which we are the prosecuted foes — ^have
been immortalised. And, whilst death thus counted
in his spoils by the score, we, who should have stood
up between the destroyer and the doomed — ^we, who
should have prayed together, marched together, fought
together to save the people — ^we were in arms ! — drilled
and disciplined into factions ! — striking each other
across the graves that each day opened at our feet,
instead of joining hands above them, and snatching
157
158 MEAGHER OF THE SWORD
victory from death ! The cry of famine was lost in the
cry of faction, and many a brave heart, flying from
the scene, bled as it looked back upon the riotous
profanation in which the worst passions of the country
were engaged. You know the rest — you know the
occurrences of the last few weeks. At the very hoiu:
when the feud was hottest, a voice from the banks of
the Seine summoned us to desist. That voice has
been obeyed — ^we have trampled upon the whims and
prejudices that divided us — and it is this event that
explains the sedition in which we glory. The sudden
re-construction of that power which, in 1843, menaced
the integrity of the empire, and promised liberty to
this island, dictated the language which has entitled
us to the vengeance of the minister, and the confidence of
the people. Nor this alone. It is not in the language of
the lawyer, or the police magistrate, that the wrongs and
aspirations of an oppressed nation should be stated.
For the pang with which it writhes — for the passion
with which it heaves — for the chafed heart — the burning
brain — the quickening pulse — ^the soaring soul — ^there
is a language quite at variance with the grammar and
the syntax of a government. It is bold, and passionate,
and generous. It often glows with the fire of genius —
it sometimes thunders with the spirit of the prophet.
It is tainted with no falsehood — ^it is polished with no
flattery. In the desert — on the mountain — ^within the
city — everywhere — ^it has been spoken, throughout all
ages. It requires no teaching — it is the inherent and
imperishable language of humanity ! Kings, soldiers,
judges, hangmen, have proclaimed it. In pools of
blood they have sought to cool and quench this fiery
tongue. They have built the prison — ^they have
launched the convict-ship — they have planted the
gallows tree — to warn it to be still. The sword, the
FAMINE AND FELONY 159
■sceptre, the black cap, the guillotine— all have failed.
Sedition wears the crown in Europe on this day,
and the scaffold, on which the poor scribes of royalty
had scrawled her death-sentence, is the throne upon
which she receives the homage of humanity, and
guarantees its glory. Therefore, it is, I do not blush
for the crime with which I have been charged. There-
fore, it is, you have invited a traitorous triumvirate to
your ancient and gallant city, and have honoured
them this evening. In doing so, you have taken your
stand against the government of England, and I know
of no spot in Ireland where a braver stand should be
made than here, by the waters of the Shannon, where
the sword of Sarsfield flashed. Whilst that old Treaty
stone, without the Thomond gate, attests the courage
and the honour of your fathers, the nerve and faith
of Limerick shall never be mistrusted. No, there
could be no coward born within those walls, which,
in their old age, instruct so thrillingly the young hearts
that gaze upon them with reverence — whispering to
them, as they do, memories that drive the blood, in
boiling currents, through the veins — telling those
young hearts, not to doubt, not to falter, not to fear
— ^that in a sunnier hour the Wild Geese shall yet return
from France. These sentiments are, no doubt, seditious,
and the expression of them may bring me within the
provisions of this new Felony Bill — ^the bill, mind you,
that is to strike this nation dumb ! Yes, from this
day out, you must lie down, and eat your words !
Yes, you — you starved wretch, lying naked in that
ditch, with clenched teeth aiid staring eye, gazing
on the clouds that redden with the flames in which
your hovel is consumed — what matters it that the
claw of hunger is fastening in your heart — ^what matters
it that the hot poison of the fever is shooting through
i6o MEAGHER OF THE SWORD
your brain — ^what matters it that the tooth of the lean
dog is cutting through the bone of that dead child, of
which you were once the guardian — ^what matters it
that the lips of that spectre there, once the pride and
beauty of the village, when you wooed and won her as
your bride, are blackened with the blood of the youngest
to whom she has given birth — ^what matters it that the
golden grain, which sprung from the sweat you squan-
dered on the soil has been torn from your grasp, and
Heaven's first decree to fallen man be contravened by
human law — ^what matters it that you are thus pained
and stung — thus lashed and maddened — hush ! — ^beat
back the passion that rushes from your heart — check
the curse that gurgles in your throat — die ! — die
without a groan ! — die without a struggle ! — die without
a cry ! — for the government which starves you, desires
to live in peace ! Shall this be so ? Shall the con-
quest of Ireland be this year completed ? Shall the
spirit which has survived the pains and penalties of
centuries — ^which has never ceased to stir the heart of
Ireland with the hope of a better day — ^which has de-
fied the sword of famine and the sword of law — ^which
has lived through the desolation of the last year, and
kept the old flag flying, spite of the storm which rent
its folds — ^what ! shall this spirit sink down at last —
tamed and crippled by the blow with which it has
been struck — muttering no sentiment that is not loyal,
legal, slavish, and corrupt ? Why should I put this
question ? Have I not been already answered by that
flash of arms, which purifies the air where the pestilence
has been ? Have I not already caught the quick
beating of that heart, which many men had said was
cold and dull, and, in its strong pulsation, have we not
heard the rushing of that current, which, for a time,
may overflow the lemd — overflow it, to fertilise, to
FAMINE AND FELONY i6i
restore, and beautify ? The mind of Ireland no longer
wavers. It has acquired the faith, the constancy, the
heroism of a predestined martyr. It foresees the
worst — ^prepares for the worst. The cross — as in
Milan — ^glitters in the haze of battle, and points to
eternity 1 We shall no longer seek for liberty in the
bye-ways. On the broad field, in front of the foreign
swords, the soul of this nation, grown young and
chivalrous again, shall clothe herself, like the Angel
of the Resurrection, in the white robe, and point to
the sepidchre that is void ; or shall mount the scaffold
— ^that eminence on which many a radiant transfigura-
tion has taken place — and bequeath to the crowd below
a lesson for their instruction.
John Mitchel
Speech in the Music Hall, June, 1848, at a Meeting
OF THE Irish Confederation, upon the Trial
AND Transportation of John Mitchel.
Citizens of Dublin, since we last assembled in this
Hall, an event has occurred which decides our fate.
We are no longer masters of our lives. They belong
to our country — to liberty — ^to vengeance. Upon the
walls of Newgate a fettered hand has inscribed this
destiny — ^we shall be the martyrs or the rulers of a
revolution. " One, two, three — ay, hundreds shall
follow me," exclaimed the glorious citizen who was
sentenced to exile and immortality upon the morning
of the 27th of May. Such was his prophecy, and his
children will live to say it has been fulfilled. Let no
man mistrust these words ; 'whilst I speak them I am
fully sensible of the obligations they impose. It is an
obligation from which there is no exemption but
through infamy. Claiming your trust, however, I
well know the feeling that prevails amongst you —
doubt — depression — shame ! Doubt, as to the truth
of those whose advice restrained your daring. De-
pression, inspired by the loss of the ablest and the
boldest man amongst us. Shame, excited by the ease,
the insolence, the impunity with which he was hurried
in chains from the island to whose service he had
sacrificed all that he had on earth — all that made
life dear, and honourable, and glorious to him — ^his
home, his genius, and his liberty. In those feelings
I§2
JOHN MITCHEL 163
of depression and shame I deeply share ; and from
the mistrust with which some of you, at least, may
regard the members of the late Council, I shall not
hold myself exempt. If they are to blame, so am I.
Between the hearts of the people and the bayonets of
the government, I took my stand, with the members
of the Council, and warned back the precipitate de-
votion which scoffed at prudence as a crime. I am
here to answer for that act. If you believe it to have
been the act of a dastard, treat me with no delicacy,
treat me with no respect — ^vindicate your courage in
the impeachment of the coward. The necessities and
perils of the cause forbid the interchange of courtesies.
Civihties are out of place in the whirl and tumult of
the tempest ; and do not fear that the forfeiture of
your confidence will induce in me the renunciation of
the cause. In the ranks — ^by the side of the poorest
mechanic — I shall proudly act, under any executive
you may decree. Summon the intellect and heroism
of the democracy, from the workshop, the field, the
garret — ^bind the brow of labour with the crown of
sovereignty — place the sceptre in the rough and
blistered hand — and, to the death, I shall be the sub-
ject and the soldier of the plebeian king. The address
of the Council to the people of Ireland — the address
signed by William Smith O'Brien — ^bears witness to
your determination ; it states that thousands of con-
federates had pledged themselves that John Mitchel
should not leave these shores but through their blood.
We were bound to make this statement — ^bound in
justice to you — Abound in honour to the country.
Whatever odium may flow from that scene of victorious
defiance, in which the government played its part
without a stammer or a check, none falls on you. You
would have fought, had we not seized your hands, and
i64 MEAGHER OF THE SWORD
bound them. Let no foul tongue, then, spit its sar-
casms upon the people. They were ready for the
sacrifice ; and had the word been given, the stars
would burn this night above a thousand crimsoned
graves. The guilt is ours — let the sarcasms fall upon
our heads. We told you in the clubs, four days previous
to the trial, the reasons that compelled us to oppose
the project of a rescue. The concentration of 10,000
troops upon the city — the incomplete organisation of
the people — the insufficiency of food, in case of a
sustained resistance — the uncertainty as to how far the
country districts were prepared to support us — ^these
were the chief reasons that forced us into an antagonism
with your generosity, your devotion, your intrepidity.
Night after night we visited the clubs, to know your
sentiments, your determination — and to the course we
instructed you to adopt, you gave, at length, a reluctant
sanction. Now, I do not think it would be candid
in me to conceal the fact, that the day subsequent to
the arrest of John Mitchel, I gave expression to senti-
ments having a tendency quite opposite to the advice
I have mentioned. At a meeting of the Grattan Club,
I said that the Confederation ought to come to the
resolution to resist by force the transportation of
John Mitchel, and if the worst befel us, the ship that
carried him away should sail upon a sea of blood. I
said this, and I shall not now conceal it. I said this,
and I shall not shrink from the reproach of having
acted otherwise. Upon consideration, I became con^
vinced they were sentiments which, if acted upon,
would associate my name with the ruin of the cause.
I feel it my duty, therefore, to retract them — ^not to
disown, but to condemn them — not to shrink from the
responsibility which the avowal of them might entail,
but to avert the disaster which the enforcement of
JOHN MITCHEL 165
them would ensure. You have now heard all I have to
say on that point ; and, with a conscience happy in the
thought that it has concealed nothing, I shall ex-
ultingly look forward to an event, the shadow of
which already encircles us, for the vindication of my
conduct, and the attestation of my truth. Call me
coward — call me renegade. I will accept these titles
as the penalties which a fidelity to my convictions has
imposed. I will be so for a short time only. To the
end I see the path I have been ordained to walk, and
upon the grave which closes in that path I can read
no coward's epitaph. Bitterly, indeed, might the
wife and children of our illustrious friend lament the
loss they have sustained, if his example failed to excite
amongst us that defiant spirit which, in spite of pains
and penalties, will boldly soar to freedom, and from
the dust, where it has fretted for a time, return in
rapturous flight to the source from whence it came.
Not till then — ^not till the cowardice of the country
has been made manifest^let there be tears and mourning
round that hearth, of which the pride and chivalry have
passed away. I said, that in the depression which his
loss inspired, I deeply shared. I should not have said
so. I feel no depression. His example — ^his fortitude
— ^his courage — forbid the feeling. All that was perish-
able in him — ^his flesh and blood — are in the keeping of
the privileged felons who won his liberty with their
loaded dice. But his genius, his truth, his heroism —
to what penal settlement have these immortal influences
been condemned ? Oh ! to have checked the evil
promptly — ^to have secured their crown and govern-
ment against him and his teachings — to have done
their treacherous business well, they should have
read his mission, and his power, in the star which
presided at his birth, and have stabbed him in his
i66 MEAGHER OF THE SWORD
cradle. They seized him thirty years too late — they
seized him when his steady hand had lit the sacred
fire, and the flame had passed from soul to soul. Who
speaks of depression, then ? Banish it ! Let not the
banners droop — ^let not the battalions reel — when the
young chief is down. You have to avenge that fall.
Until that fall shall have been avenged, a sin blackens
the soul of the nation, and repels from our cause the
sympathies of every gallant people. For one, I am
pledged to follow him. Once again they shall have to
pack their jury box — once again, exhibit to the world
the frauds and mockeries — the tricks and perjuries —
upon which their power is based. In this island, the
English never — ^never, shall have rest. The work
begxm by the Norman never shall be completed. Genera-
tion transmits to generation the holy passion which
pants for liberty — ^which frets against oppression ; and
from the blood which drenched the scaffolds of 1798,
the " felons " of this year have sprung. Should their
blood flow — ^peace, and loyalty, and debasement may
here, for a time, resume their reign — ^the snows of a
winter, the flowers of a summer, may clothe the pro-
scribed graves — ^but from those graves there shall
hereafter be an armed resurrection. Peace, loyalty,
and debasement, forsooth 1 A stagnant society ! —
breeding, in its bosom, slimy, sluggish things, which
to the surface make their way by stealth, and there,
for a season, creep, cringe, and glitter in the glare of
a provincial royalty. Peace, loyalty, and debasement !
A mass of pauperism ! — shovelled off the land — stocked
in fever sheds and poorhouses — shipped to Canadian
swamps — ^rags, and pestilence, and vermin. Behold
the rule of England ! — and in that rule, behold humanity
dethroned, and Providence blasphemed. To keep up
this abomination, they enact their laws of felony. To
JOHN MITCHEL 167
sweep away the abomination, we must break through
their laws. Should the laws fail, they will hedge the
abomination with their bayonets and their gibbets.
These, too, shall give way before the torrent of fire
which gathers in the soul of the people. The question
so long debated — debated, years ago, on fields of blood
— debated latterly in a venal senate, amid the jeers
and yells of faction — the question, as to who shall be
the owners of this island, must be this year determined.
The end is at hand, and so, unite and arm ! A truce
to cheers — to speeches — ^to banquets — to " important
resolutions " that resolve nothing, and " magnificent
displays," which are little else than preposterous de-
ceptions. Ascertain your resources in each locality —
consolidate, arrange them — substitute defined action
for driftless passion — and in the intelligent distribution
and disciplined exercise of your powers, let the mind
of the country manifest its purpose, and give per-
manent effect to its ambition. In carrying out this
plan, the country shall have the services of the leading
members of the Council, and from this great task —
the organisation of the country — ^we shall not desist
until it has been thoroughly accomplished. When it
is accomplished, the country may resume its freedom
and its sovereignty. To the work, then, with high
hope and impassioned vigour. There is a black ship
upon the southern sea this night. Far from his own,
old land — far from the sea, and soil, and sky, which,
standing here, he used to claim for you with all the
pride of a true Irish prince — far from that circle of
fresh young hearts, in whose light, and joyousness, and
warmth, his own drank in each evening new life and
vigour — far from that young wife, in whose heart the
kind hand of heaven has kindled a gentle heroism,
sustained by which she looks with serenity and pride
i68 MEAGHER OF THE SWORD
upon her widowed house, and in the children that girdle
her with beauty behold the inheritors of a name which,
to their last breath, will secure for them the love, the
honour, the blessing of their country — far from these
scenes and joys, clothed and fettered as a felon, he is
borne to an island where the rich, and brilliant, and
rapacious power, of which he was the foe, has doomed
him to a dark existence. That sentence must be
reversed — reversed by the decree of a free nation,
arrayed in arms and in glory. Till then, in the love
of the country, let the wife and children of the illustrious
exile be shielded from adversity. True — ^when he stood
before the judge, and with the voice and bearing of a
Roman, told him that three hundred were prepared
to follow him — true it is, that, at that moment, he
spoke not of his home and children — ^he thought only
of his country — and to the honour of her sons bequeathed
the cause for which he was doomed to suffer. But, in
that one thought, all other thoughts were embraced.
Circled by the arms and banners of a free people, he
saw his home secure — ^his wife joyous — ^his children
prosperous. This was the thought which forbade his
heart to blench when he left these shores — ^this the
thought which calls up to-night, as he sleeps within that
prison ship, dreams full of light and rapturous joy —
this the thought which will lighten the drudgery, and
reconcile his proud heart to the odious conditions of
his exile. Think 1 oh, think ! of that exile — the hopes,
the longings, which will grow each day more anxious
and impatient. Think ! oh, think ! of how, with
throbbing heart and kindling eye, he will look out
across the waters that imprison him, searching in the
eastern sky for the flag that will announce to him his
liberty, and the triumph of sedition. Think 1 oh,
think ! of that day, when thousands and tens of thousands
JOHN MITCHEL 169
will rush to the water's edge, as a distant gun proclaims
his return — ^mark the ship as it dashes through the
waves and nears the shore — ^behold him standing there
upon the deck — the same calm, intrepid, noble heart —
his clear, quick eye runs along the shore, and fills with
the light which flashes from the bayonets of the people
— a moment's pause ! — and then, amid the roar of
cannons, the fluttering of a hundred flags, the pealing
of cathedral bells, the cheers of millions — ^the triumphant
felon sets his foot once more upon his native soil —
hailed, and blessed, and welcomed as the first citizen
of our free and sovereign state !
Sentenced to Death
Speech in the Dock at Clonmel, October, 1848.
My Lords, it is my intention to say only a few words.
I desire that the last act of a proceeding which has
occupied so much of the public time, shall be of short
duration. Nor have I the indelicate wish to close the
dreary ceremony of a State prosecution with a vain
display of words. Did I fear that hereafter when I
shall be no more, the country which I have tried to
serve would think ill of me, I might indeed avail myself
of this solemn moment to vindicate my sentiments and
my conduct. But I have no such fear. The country
will judge of those sentiments and that conduct in a
light far different from that in which the jury by which
I have been convicted have viewed them ; and, by the
country, the sentence which you, my Lords, are about
to pronoimce, will be remembered only as the severe
and solemn attestation of my rectitude and truth.
Whatever be the language in which that sentence be
spoken, I know my fate will meet with sympathy, and
that my memory will be honoured. In speaking thus,
accuse me not, my Lords, of an indecorous presumption.
To the efforts I have made, in a just and noble cause, I
ascribe no vain importance, nor do I claim for those
efforts any high reward. But it so happens, and it
will ever happen so, that they who have tried to serve
their country, no matter how weak the efforts may
have been, are sure to receive the thanks and blessings
of its people. With my country then I leave my
memory — my sentiments — ^my acts — ^proudly feeling
170
SENTENCED TO DEATH 171
that they require no vindication from me this day. A
jury of my countrymen, it is true, have found me guilty
of the crime of which I stood indicted. For this I
entertain not the slightest feeling of resentment towards
them. Influenced, as they must have been, by the
charge of the Lord Chief Justice, they could have
found no other verdict. What of that charge ? Any
strong observations on it, I feel sincerely, would ill
befit the solemnity of the scene ; but, earnestly beseech
of you, my Lord, you who preside on that bench,
when the passions and the prejudices of this hour
have all passed away, to appeal to your conscience
and ask of it, was your charge, as it ought to have
been, impartial, and indifferent between the subject
and the Crown ?
My Lords, you may deem this language unbecoming
in me, and perhaps it might seal my fate. But I am
here to speak the truth, whatever it may cost. I am
here to regret nothing I have done — ^to retract nothing
I have ever said. I am here to crave with no l5dng
lip, the life I consecrate to the liberty of my country.
Far from it ; even here — ^here, where the thief, the
libertine, the murderer, have left their foot-prints in
the dust — ^here on this spot, where the shadows of
death surround me, and from which I see my early
grave, in an unanointed soil open to receive me — even
here, encircled by these terrors, the hope which has
beckoned me to the perilous seas upon which I have
been wrecked still consoles, animates, and enraptures
me. No, I do not despair of my old country, her peace,_
her glory, her liberty ! For that country I can do no
more than bid her hope. To lift this island up — to
make her a benefactor to humanity, instead of being
the meanest beggar in the world — ^to restore her to her
native power and her ancient constitution — this has
172 , MEAGHER OF THE SWORD
been my ambition, and my ambition has been my
crime. Judged by the law of England, I know this
crime entails the penalty of Seath ; but the history of
Ireland explains this crime, and justifies it. Judged
by that history I am no criminal — you [addressing
MacManus] are no criminal — ^you [addressing O'Dono-
ghue] are no criminal : I deserve no punishment— we
deserve no punishment. Judged by that history, the
treason of which I stand convicted loses all its guilt ;
is sanctified as a duty, will be ennobled as a sacrifice !
With these sentiments, my Lords, I await the sentence
of the court. Having done what I felt to be my duty —
having spoken what I felt to be truth, as I have done
on every other occasion of my short career, I now bid
farewell to the country of my birth, my passion, and
my death — the covintry whose misfortunes have in-
voked my sympathies— whose factions I have sought
to still— whose intellect I have prompted to a lofty
aim — ^whose freedom has been my fatal dream. I offer
to that country, as a proof of the love I bear her, the
sincerity with which I thought, and spoke, and struggled
for freedom — the life of a young heart, and with that
life all the hopes, the honour, the endearments of a
happy and an honourable home. Pronounce then, my
Lords, the sentence which the law directs— I am pre-
pared to hear it. I trust I shall be prepared to meet
its execution. I hope to be able, with a pure heart,
and perfect composure, to appear before a higher
tribimal — a tribunal where a Judge of infinite goodness,
as well as of justice, will preside, and where, my Lords,
many — many of the judgments of this world will be
reversed.
A Personal Narrative of 1848
[This narrative was written by Meagher in Richmond Prison,
Dublin.'in 1849, and addressed to Gavan Duffy, who published
it subsequently in the Nation. It is incomplete.]
On Sunday evening, July the i6th, I came down from
Slievnamon, and remained at home until the following
Thursday, superintending the organisation of the Water-
ford Confederates.
The Thursday I refer to brought us the proclamation
of the Arms Act ; copies of which, during the early
part of the day, were posted upon the walls of my
native city.
Not wishing to act upon my own judgment — ^which,
at such a moment, it would have been assuming too
serious a fesponsibility to do — I resolved to leave at
once for Dublin, with a view to ascertain there the in-
tentions of the principal Confederates, so that the pro-
claimed districts might act in concert. Previous to niy
leaving, I issued a counter-proclamation, exhorting the
people to firmness, and entreating them to complete
the organisation of the Clubs.
In several places, this proclamation was posted over
the Government manifesto ; and wherever the latter
was not superseded in this way, it was torn down and
flung about the streets.
In the evening, between seven and eight o'clock, I
ordered a covered car ; intending to drive to Kilkenny,
sleep the night there, and take the first coach to Carlow
in the morning ; so that I might arrive in Dublin, by
three o'clock in the afternoon of Friday, the 21st of
July-
173
174 MEAGHER OF THE SWORD
Whilst the car was getting ready, I ran up to the
drawing-room, where my father and aunt were sitting
at the time to wish them good-bye. I put on my tri-
colour sash — green, white and orange — ^buckled on my
sword-belt, cross-belt, cartouche-box — and flourishing
a very handsome old sword, which belonged to a grand-
uncle of mine in the days of the Merchant Corps of the
Waterford Volunteers, gave myself up to the gay
illusion of a gallant fight, a triumphal entry, at the
head of armed thousands, into Dublin, before long 1
I was full of liveliness and hope at that moment, and
welcomed the struggle with a laughing heart. But, I
recollect it well, my father was far otherwise. He
seemed to me mournfully serious, and impressed with
the saddest anticipations. In the Confederate Move-
ment, however, he never had the slightest faith. More
than once — ^particularly when I met him in London, on
my way, with Eugene O'Reilly, O'Gorman, and Holly-
wood, to present the congratulatory address to its
Provisional Government of the French Republic, in
the month of April — he warned me against being led
away, by the success of the Continental Revolutionists,
to trust the fortunes of our cause to the desperate
chances of insurrection.
That evening — ^Thursday, July the 20th, 1848 — I saw
my home for the last time.
The car having come, I drove off to Kilkenny, and
arrived there a few minutes before midnight.
Very early next morning, I sent a messenger to
with a note requesting him to step over to me with as
little delay as possible. Shortly afterwards he met me
in Walshe's Hotel, where I was staying, and, whilst I
was at breakfast, we had an anxious conversation upon
the subject of the contemplated rising.
He was strongly adverse to any move being made,
NARRATIVE OF 1848 175
for several weeks to come ; urging the fact, that it was
within the last few weeks only the country parts had
caught the flame from Dublin : hence, that it would
take a considerable time to have the provincial Clubs
organised, disciplined, and equipped ; and that, to
give the signal before this time had expired, would be
to rush, with naked hands, upon the bayonets of the
police and soldiery.
He further added — ^indeed, he urged this considera-
tion more earnestly than any other — ^that, as yet, the
Catholic Priests had not given their sanction to the
movement, and that, so long as they stood aloof, the
people, outside of Dublin, would make no vigorous,
hearty effort.
I could not but assent in great measure to these
views ; yet, in parting from my friend, I stated to him
my conviction, that, in the face of every difficulty, we
would be driven to the last plank before many weeks,
and would have to fight for it.
At six o'clock I left by the day mail for Carlow, and
arrived in Dublin between two and three o'clock, p.m.
From the railway station I drove to the Nation office,
and there met Dillon, O'Gorman, and Smyth, with
whom I proceeded to the Coimcil Rooms.
Having stated the reason which induced me to hurry
up to Dublin, I learned from them that the Delegates
of the Clubs had met in D'Olier Street, the day before,
and had come to the resolution of offering no active
resistance to the carrying out of the provisions of the
Arms Act ; that, however, the members of the Clubs,
and the people generally, had been instructed to con-
ceal their arms and ammunition, and hold themselves
in readiness for any collision which might take place.
"Being so far satisfied, I told them I had pledged
myself to be back in Waterford next morning, and
176 MEAGHER OF THE SWORD
should, therefore, leave Dublin that night. They
pressed me to remain until the morning, insisting it
was of importance I should attend a meeting of the
Club Delegates, to be held that evening, for the pur-
pose of electing an Executive Committee of Five. My
presence, they added, was the more necessary at this
meeting, since, in consequence of some misrepresenta-
tions, a want of confidence had been expressed, or,
rather, murmured, against O'Brien, Dillon, and
O'Gorman.
I consented to stay, and at five o'clock went down to
Richard O'Gorman's house on Merchant's Quay, where,
with the exception of those who were in Newgate, I
met all the members of the late Council of the Con-
federation.
The conversation during dinner turned, of course,
upon the movement ; our progress, difficulties, and
prospects of success. So confident were we upon this
occasion — the last upon which we met each other, and
drank prosperity to the good old Irish Cause ! — so
confident were we, that we had some three or four
weeks more to devote to the organisation of the coimtry,
and so little did we suspect that we should be taken
imawares, and be driven to the field before our plans
had been matured, that, during dinner, O'Gorman
determined upon leaving, by the mail train, for Limerick
with a view to superintend the formation of the Clubs
in Limerick and in Clare.
O'Brien, too, little dreaming that a special warrant
was at that very moment prepared for his arrest,
announced his intention of starting early next morning
for Wexford, and, in shaping out the course of his
excursion through the country, fully calculated upon a
month of uninterrupted agitation.
The opening of the Commission at Newgate was
NARRATIVE OF 1848 177
fixed for the 8th of August. On that day, Duffy,
Martin, Williams, and O'Doherty, were certain to be
brought up for trial.
Now, in calculating the time that still remained to
us for the organisation of the clubs, we counted up to
the 13th of August, and for this reason : —
In case one or more of our friends were brought to
trial on the 8th of August, five days would be allowed
for pleading to the indictment, and four days, at least,
were sure to elapse before the trial could terminate.
Hence you will perceive, that the arrangements we made
upon this evening of July the 21st had direct reference
to the Confederates in Newgate.
Whatever opinions might have been previously ex-
pressed elsewhere, there existed but the one determina-
tion amongst the leading members of the Confederation
at this, our last, meeting ; the determination, that not
one of the Political Prisoners, in case of an adverse
verdict and sentence of transportation, should be
permitted to leave the country, without an attempt
being made to resist the execution of the sentence.
It is true, we felt convinced it would be much wiser
to wait until the cutting of the harvest, the time
originally proposed. But, a consideration of the serious
extent to which the spirit and reputation of the country
would be affected by the loss of another leading man,
forced us to the determination I have just stated.
And yet, this was no rash and hopeless conclusion ;
though none of us subscribed to it without feeling it
was hazcirdous in the extreme.
In coming to it, however, we derived confidence
from an anticipation of the excitement which another
conviction, similar to that of Mitchel's, was calculated
to produce, and felt ourselves sustained by the deep
persuasion, that, in such an event, the passions of the
13
178 MEAGHER OF THE SWORD
people would compensate for any deficiency which might
exist in their organisation and equipment.^
At eight o'clock, O'Gorman left us for the Dublin
and Cashel Railway. It was the last time I saw him.
When wishing him good-bye that evening, I was far
from thinking it would have been for ever.
O'Brien, at the same time, returned to his lodgings
in Westland Row. He did not attend the meeting in
D'Olier Street, being, in some measure, opposed to the
election of an Executive Committee for the Clubs, and
having, moreover, to make preparations for his departure
to the South next morning.
Within a few mmutes of nine o'clock, Dillon and I
arrived at the Confederation rooms. About thirty of
the Club Delegates were assembled there.
This, you will recollect, was the meeting sworn to
by the spy, Dobbyn ; who, by-the-bye, I did not
• After Mitchel's transportation, a few of the leading Con-
federates thought the cause had received such an impetus by
the rage against jury-packing, which sprung up universally in
the country, that another victim ought to be offered to the
Government. " There is no tribune," they exclaimed, " like
the dock of Green Street ; let us keep it occupied." The
principal advocate of this course profiered himself as the next
Felon. But cooler heads warned them that the result would
disappoint their expectations ; that the people would become
accustomed to the transportation of their leaders, as they had
become accustomed to murder by famine, till, in the end, the
Government, might make a battue of Confederates with impunity.
Let there be no seekmg of martyrdom, they said ; on the con-
trary, wherever it can, with honour, let it be shunned, till the
harvest is ripe : for the next victim must not be yielded without
a struggle. This counsel was finally adopted. Accordingly,
when a warrant was issued against John Martin, he evaded it
for some days, for the express purpose of postponing his trial
for an entire commission. He succeeded, but, nevertheless,
his trial, and that of Mr. Duffy, and Messrs. Williams and
O'Doheriy, were fixed for a period much earlier than the Council
contemplated, when they resolved not to yield another victim.
It was, however, a period four months nearer the harvest than
Mitchel's trial. — [Charles Gavan Dufiy.]
NARRATIVE OF 1848 179
recognise once during the proceedings ; who, in fact,
I never saw, until he kissed the Gospel, before me, in
the Court House of Clonmel ; although he swore I
shook hands with him, and wished him good-night. In
the main, however, his swearing tallied with the facts ;
and my belief is, he must have been present at the
meeting.
The object of the meeting was, as I have already
intimated, the formation of a Directory or Committee,
the members of which, being chosen by ballot, should
be entrusted with the control and guidance of the
Clubs in and about Dublin.
The necessity for the formation <Jf such a body arose
from the fact that the Clubs were now left to them-
selves, and had no source of instruction to look to in
the difficulties which were thickening roimd them.
After the first meeting of the Irish League, the
Council of the Irish Confederation had been dissolved.
Now, the Council of the Confederation, up to the time
I allude to, had acted as the Executive of the Clubs.
This Executive having ceased to act, it became necessary
to appoint another.
The new one was to succeed the old, in the same
place, but with a more serious responsibility, and with
larger powers. With the Executive Committee of
Five was to rest the responsibility of giving the signal
for insurrection, or withholding it, just as it appeared
most fit ; the proceedings were to be strictly secret,
and the instructions issued from it were to be obeyed
implicitly. ,
The authority of the Executive Committee, in short,
was declared wholly irresponsible and absolute ; was
declared so by the several Delegates present at the
meeting, on behalf of their respective Clubs ; and
these same Delegates pledged themselves, moreover,
i8o MEAGHER OF THE SWORD
that the obedience of the Clubs, to the orders of the
Executive, would be prompt, strict, and zealous.
Dillon was in the chair. A resolution, after a little
discussion, passed, to the effect, that the new Council
should consist of five, and be entitled the Executive
Council of Five.
The balloting then took place. Previous to it, how-
ever, I stated to the Delegates, that O'Brien, having
conceived some objection to the appointment of the
new Cotmcil, it would be useless to vote for him ; the
more particularly, since he was to start in the morning
for the South, where, for a few weeks, he would be
engaged in the organisation and inspection of the
Munster Clubs.
I have no recollection of a word being said in
reference to the Rev. Mr. Kenyon, or any other priest.
Of this I am certain, that the spy, Dobbyn, swore a
falsehood, when he stated that an objection was raised
to the election of any priest whatever. Indeed, I do
not hesitate to tell you, that a very strong desire
existed quite the other way. We were sensible enough
to perceive, that a Roman Cathohc clergyman, sitting
in the Executive Council of Five, would have more
power over the people than twenty or fifty laymen,
and be enabled to lead them to acts of daring, more
surely and irresistibly, than the bravest and most
sagacious soldier. " Oh ! if you had seen them "—
said Dillon to me, the evening I met him on the Commons
of Boulagh — " if you had seen them when the old
priest blessed them, you'd have thought they could
have swept the country from sea to sea, and done the
business with a blow."
The following were elected members of the Executive
Council of Five. I give the names in the same order
as they were announced by the Tellers — ^Thomas
NARRATIVE OF 1848 18I
Francis Meagher, Rev. John Kenyon, John B. Dillon,
Thomas D. Reilly, Richard O'Gorman, Jun.^
When the balloting had taken place, MacD., addressing
the meeting, declared, that, since there were one or two
upon the Council in whom he had but little confidence,
he would, previous to assuring his obedience to it,
exact from each member of it a distinct pledge to
the effect, that in or about the harvest there should
be an insurrection. I stepped forward when he had
concluded, and replied, that, for my part, I would reject
any such pledge ; that it was a pledge which the
Executive Council could not adopt, since it was not in
their power to guarantee its fulfilment ; that five men,
however gifted or authoritative they might be, could
not make an insurrection ; that such a business was
for the entire people, or, at all events, for a considerable
portion of the people, to decide upon ; the Executive
Council could only urge them to it, and, if taken in
hand, superintend its execution. Yet, I felt it my duty
to add that as far as I could exercise any influence,
nothing should be left undone by me to get the country
under arms before the cutting of the harvest.
1 The spy swore that a letter was read, before the election,
from Mr. Duffy, then a prisoner in Newgate, recommending
that three priests should be put on the Executive Council of
Five, and that the discussion arose out of this circumstance.
What gives some probability to his statement is the fact, that
Mr. Dufify did write a letter, enclosing five names unanimously
adopted by the political prisoners in Newgate, to be recommended
by them as an Executive, and that one of them was a priest.
The names so recommended .were those of John B. Dillon,
Thomas Francis Meagher, Rev. John Kenyon, T. D. M'Gee,
and T. D. Reilly. These were the five actually elected, with
the exception that the Rev. John Kenyon was left off, and
either Richard O'Gorman, or James Fintan Lalor (we believe
the latter) substituted. Meagher's list is therefore erroneous
in including Mr. Kenyon, and omitting Mr. M'Gee.
— [Charles Gavan Duffy] .
i82 MEAGHER OF THE SWORD
MacD. expressed himself satisfied at this, and, after
some further conversation, the meeting broke up.
It now appears strangely unaccountable to me, that
at this meeting — the most serious, perhaps, of any that
was held in connection with the national movement of
1848 — ^whilst a consideration of our position, our pro-
ject, and resources, was taking place — ^whilst the stormy
future, upon which we were entering, formed the subject
of the most anxious conjecture, and the dangers of it
fell like wintry shadows round us — it seems strangely
unaccoimtable to me, that not an eye was turned to
the facilities, for the coimteraction of our designs,
which the Government had at their disposal ; that not
a word was uttered in anticipation of that bold,
astounding measure — the Suspension of the Habeas
Corpus Act — the announcement of which broke upon
us next day, so suddenly ; driving us, headlong and
bewildered, into a system of resistance for which the
country was very far from being sufficiently prepared.
I seek not to exculpate the leaders of the Confedera-
tion from the responsibility of this grievous mistake.
The Suspension of the Habeas Corpus was a resource
in the hands of the English Government which should
have entered prominently into the consideration of
the question which, for three years, we had laboured
to explain and illustrate, and the- settlement of which,
at this time, we ambitioned, at any cost and sacrifice,
to effectuate.
The overlooking of it was a fatal inadvertence.
Owing to it, we were routed without a struggle, and
have been led into captivity without glory. We suffer
not for a rebellion, but for a blunder.^
1 Some leading members of the Council, of whom Meagher
was one, had repeatedly urged the necessity of providing against
all contingencies, by being prepared for action. But some of
NARRATIVE OF 1848 183
When the meeting was over, I drove out with my
old friend and school-fellow, Smyth, to his father's
house. Mount Brown, Old Kilmainham, and slept there
that night. Before going to my room, I desired him to
call me in time for the eight o'clock train, so as to enable
me to arrive in Waterford early next evening.
The following morning, however, owing to the fatigue
of the previous day, I felt too sleepy to get up as early
as I had wished, and remained in bed until twelve
o'clock nearly, when Smyth came in to me with the
Freeman's Journal, and read for me the announcement
of the intended Suspension of the Habeas Corpus Act,
and the report of a special warrant having been issued
from the Home Office for the apprehension of Smith
O'Brien.
Death itself could not have struck me more suddenly
than this news. I had fully calculated — and so had
O'Brien, O'Gorman, Dillon, and the rest of us, the
evening before — that nothing would occur, for three or
four weeks at least, to precipitate a rising ; and I had
reckoned, with certainty, upon so much time, for the
fmrther extension and arming of the Clubs in Dublin
and throughout the country.
their honestest and bravest colleagues had a strange reluctance
to commit themselves prematurely to the necessary measures.
Accordingly, it is said, that when was despatched
across the Atlantic, his credentials were signed only by four of
the leaders of the Confederation ; two of whom are now in
Van Dieman s Land, one in America, and one in Ireland. And
it is even believed, in well-informed quarters, that so late as
the day before Mr. Duffy's arrest, when Mitchel was transported,
and a warrant out for Martin, a motion to despatch an accredited
agent to France was defeated in the Council, by a majority of
one, as " a premature measure." This reluctance to take the
necessary means to the end contemp'ated was one of the greatest
moral impediments to success. How the same agent was
huddled off on his mission, when it was too 'ate, Meagher tells
in a subsequent part of his memoir. — [Charles Gavan Duffy.]
l84 MEAGHER OF THE SWORD
Now I saw we were driven, by a master-stroke, to
the last point upon the board : and that, either we must
surrender without a parley, or fight without arms and
arrangement. " We are driven to it " — I said to
Smyth " there is nothing for us now but to go out ;
we have not gone far enough to succeed, and yet, too
far to retreat." He thought so too, and at once made
up his mind to share the worst with me.
After a hurried breakfast, we drove rapidly into
town. We called, first of all, at Merchant's Quay, and
learned from Richard O'Gorman, Sen., that the news
of the Suspension Act was confirmed by a private
letter he had received that morning from England, in
which it was positively stated that the special warrant
for the apprehension of Smith O'Brien had been issued
from the Home Office.
Nothing could be more embarrassing than the
position in which I found myself at this moment. I
was left completely to myself ; deprived of all com-
panionship and advice. O'Brien had started, five hours
previously, for Wexford. O'Gorman had gone down to
Limerick the night before. Doheny was in Cashel.
Duffy, Martin, Williams, and O'Doherty, were shut
up in Newgate ; and any access to them, except by
their immediate relatives, was strictly prohibited.
Dillon cind Reilly, however, were in town ; and, in
the hope of finding them, I drove down to the Nation
office, and from thence to the Council Rooms, in
D'Olier Street. In neither place did I find them ; and
what was still worse, could learn no tidings of them.
Having consulted with Halpin — ^who was then acting
as Corresponding Secretary to the Clubs — I hurried off
to Merrion Street, with the hope of finding Dillon.
I was passing up the east side of Merrion Square,
when Dillon beckoned to me from a covered car. I
NARRATIVE OF 1848 185
ran over, and found Charles Hart and John Lawless,
Secretary of the Sandymount Club, with him. They
had been in search of me, and were on their way to the
Council Rooms, at the moment I fell in with them.
Having got into the car, Dillon proposed that he and
I should start by the night mail for Enniscorthy, and
on then, without delay, to Ballinkeele, the residence of
Mr. John Maher, where Smith O'Brien had purposed
to remain a few days ; and that, in case O'Brien con-
ceived the time had come for making a stand, we should
throw ourselves into Kilkenny, call the people to arms,
barricade the streets, and proclaim the separation of
the countries.
In reply to a question I put to him, he told me that,
a day or two before I came up from Waterford, the
leading men of the Dublin Clubs had determined upon
not making Dublin the head-quarters of the insurrec-
tion ; the garrison in the city — exceeding 11,000 men
— being thought too formidable a body to contend with ;
whilst the number of inhabitants, well-affected towards
the Government, or disinclined, at all events, to join
the people, was calculated, in their opinion, to counteract
or, in great measure, weaken the efforts of the
latter.
That the Dublin Clubs would have fought with courage
and enthusiasm, not one of us ever doubted. In none
of the Continental cities, from the citizens of which,
during the course of a most eventful year, we had
received so many lessons of exalted heroism, I sincerely
believe, would there have been displayed an amount of
bravery greater than that which the Dublin Clubs were
prepared to exhibit, had they been called upon to pile
the barricades in the streets of their noble city, and
sack the English Castle.
Acting amongst them for upwards of two years ;
i86 MEAGHER OF THE SWORD
knowing them familiarly ; knowing them, man for
man ; I have good reason to speak of them with con-
fidence, and, I may truly add, with the most affectionate
admiration.
Honest, intelligent, high-minded, they had conceived
a proud notion of what their country's destiny should
be ; and having weighed well the labours and the
sacrifices it was necessary to undergo, to the end that
this high destiny might be attained, they remained
faithful, in the face of much calumny and persecution,
to their convictions, at a time when a majority of their
countrymen were of a different way of thinking ; and
subsequently trod, with a step that never faltered
and a heart that never quailed, the dangerous path to
\yhich we led them ; exulting in the thought, as they
fearlessly hastened on, that by such paths have all
brave nations mounted to their freedom and become
immortal.
The Dublin Clubmen were, in fact, the very pick and
pride of the population, and I shall never cease to pray
that Ireland may be made worthy of them. Nothing
could pain me more deeply than to think that they
supposed, for an instant even, we had the slightest
reason to distrust them. It was far otherwise. In
their quick, generous, courageous nature, our faith was
deeply fixed.
But the power immediately opposed to them was too
ponderous ; too skilfully disposed ; and, withal, too
heartily supported by the adherents of the Castle, to
justify us in committing them against it. The blood
which would have flowed from so terrible a collision,
appeared to us too costly a treasure to account for.
By commencing the insurrection elsewhere — com-
mencing it in some town or district, where a force less
considerable than that which was distributed through
NARRATIVE OF 1848 187
Dublin happened to be stationed — it seemed to us that
the chances of success would be greatly increased.
In the first place, it struck us that the smallest
victory, however unimportant it might be — con-
sidering merely the position won, or the numbers
overcome — ^would have a very great influence upon the
spirit of the country at large — kindling it, as it surely
must have done, into the brightest hopefulness, and
tempting it to still more daring exploits.
In the next place, an outbreak, in a thinly garrisoned
district — and the more especially, a successful outbreak
— ^would have surely led to the diminution of the
larger garrisons, and, in this way, enabled the Con-
federates of Dublin, of Cork, of Limerick, of Water-
ford, and other towns, to rise with effect, and make
good their ground.
These were the views which principally induced the
leading men of the Confederation to abandon the
design of commencing the revolution in Dublin, and in
these views I fully concurred. Since the events of
July, 1848, I have seen nothing, I have heard nothing,
that was calculated to convince me those views were
wrong. On the contrary, the more I have reflected
upon the events of that time, the more deeply impressed
have I become with the correctness of those views, and
the propriety of having acted in compliance with them.
Not a doubt of it ; had we taken a different course,
a desperate fight would have been made in the streets
of Dublin ; as desperate a fight as that of the Rue St.
M^ry, in the Parisian insurrection of 1831 ; but in like
manner, it would have been stifled in a pool of squandered
blood. This, iudeed, our generous and heroic followers
might not have deplored. But it is one thing to offer to
the cause of liberty the tribute of our own life, and
another, to exact the lives of others. To justify the
i88 MEAGHER OF THE SWORD
exaction, there must be clear grounds for the belief,
that the outlay will be repaid by an equivalent result.
And what is the equivalent of a nation's blood ?
The gratification of a just revenge ? The vindication
of the public spirit ? The attainment of heroic fame ?
I recollect well the dreary evening I put these ques-
tions to a fond and gallant friend, who had followed me
from Dublin, and was at that moment sharing with me
the fortunes of an outlaw's life. Calmly, seriously, and
I can sincerely say, in the most truthful, conscientious
spirit, we discussed them ; for a circumstance had just
occurred to force them, in the most urgent and im-
pressive manner, upon our attention.
What this circumstance was, I shall mention in the
proper place. Here, it is sufficient for me, so far, to
anticipate the order of my little narrative, as to say, we
came to the conclusion, that, not for the gratification of
a just revenge, not for the vindication of the public
spirit, nor for the attainment of heroic fame, would we
be justified, as Christian men, in demanding the blood
of the smallest section of the people ; that, for the
liberty of our island — ^that is, for the power which
would enable her to shape her own course through
the world, and build up an honourable renown and
fortune out of her own soil and genius — ^for this, and
this alone, would we be justified in requiring so great a
treasure ; and that, not even for this high and sacred
purpose would so solemn a requirement be authorised,
unless it appeared clear, to our inmost consciences, that
the probabihties were in favour of such a purpose being
wholly or to a great extent fulfilled.
Thus much I have written in explanation of the
motives which governed us in transferring, at the
outset, the scene of our revolutionary proceedings from
the capital to the Southern counties.
NARRATIVE OF 1848 189
Part II
When we reached the Council Rooms, we found
and M'Gee there, and, after a short conversation with
them it was arranged that the former should leave in
the evening for Paris, put himself immediately into
communication with the most influential Irishmen
residing in that city, and leave nothing undone to pro-
cure a military intervention, in the event of the in-
surrection we contemplated taking place.
In a few hours he sailed from Kingstown '; and I
have lately heard, from a trusted source, that the
duties he undertook were performed by him with
great ardour, intelligence, and success ; that, in fact,
owing to his earnest representations, the armed inter-
vention of the French Government would have taken
place, had we made a good beginning, and shown our-
selves worthy of so honourable an assistance.
As for M'Gee, he volunteered to start that same
evening for Belfast, cross over to Glasgow, and lie con-
cealed there until he heard from Dillon. Should he
receive any favourable information, he was to summon
the Irish population of that city to rise and attack
whatever troops were entrusted with its defence. In
case of these troops being overpowered, he should
seize two or three of the largest merchant steamers
lying in the Clyde ; with pistols at their heads, compel
the engineers and sailors to work them out ; steer
round the north coast of Ireland ; and, at the head of
two thousand men, or more, if he could get them,
make a descent on Sligo ; fight his way across the
Shannon, and join us in Tipperary.
This project may now appear a monstrously absurd
one. At the time, however, many circumstances con-
curred to give it a rational, sober, practicable character,
igo MEAGHER OF THE SWORD
Adventurous, bold, dangerous in the highest degree,
it certainly was, to the individual who proposed and
ventured to conduct it. But, once taken in hand by
our countrymen in Glasgow, no doubt could have
been entertained of its accomplishment. Not alone,
that the Irish there numbered several thousands ; not
alone, that Chartism was on the watch there, and pant-
ing for an outbreak ; but the city was almost wholly
defenceless ; the troops of the line had been drafted
off to other places ; and, as a substitute, an awkward
Militia force had been hastily patched up, and strapped
together.
The project, however — ^whether it was good or bad —
did not originate exclusively with M'Gee. In pro-
posing it to us, he was acting in obedience to the wishes
of three Delegates who had arrived in Dublin the
previous evening, and had been instructed by a large
body of Irishmen, resident in Glasgow, to lay the pro-
ject in question before the chief men of the Clubs, and
urge them to sanction, encourage, and direct it.
That evening, M'Gee started for Belfast ; and, next
day, crossed over to Scotland ; where, I have since
learned, from a Catholic clergyman of high integrity and
intellect, he went through the difficult and perilous
business he had undertaken, with singular energy, tact,
and firmness ; and, for several days, stood fully pre-
pared to carry out the views just stated, had Dillon or
I sent him word to do so.
Why we failed to communicate with him will be
easily learned from the sequel of this letter.
Yet, upon a moment's reflection, I think it may be
more satisfactory for me to state at once, that, in
consequence of no decisive blow having been struck in
Tipperary, we felt we would not be justified in bringing
our friend, and the men under him, into collision with
NARRATIVE OF 1848 191
the Government. He was to take the field in the event
of our establishing a good footing in the South ; and,
this not having been accomplished, it would have been
treacherous on our part to have written a line directing
him to explode the conspiracy he had organised.
Having parted with ■ and M'Gee, Dillon and
I went upstairs to the room used for private committees,
took down the large map of Ireland which hung there,
and folding it up, with the intention of bringing it with
us to the cotmtry, returned to the room in which Halpin
and his assistants were at work.
We desired the former to let Duffy, Martin, and the
other Confederates in Newgate, know of our going to
the country, and our resolution of commencing the
insurrection, if possible, in Kilkenny.^
We further desired him to communicate, in the course
of the evening, with the officers of the Clubs ; inform
them of our intentions ; and desire them to be in
readiness to rise, and barricade the streets, when the
1 If Meagher does not mistake the person to whom he
gave this charge, it raises a serious imputation against Mr.
Halpin. For he communicated no such message to the State
Prisoners. Not a syllable of it. On the contrary, he was
despatched by them to the south, two days afterwards, to
ascertain from O'Brien what was about to be done there. For
several days he sent them no communication. At length he
returned to Dublin (having been sent back by Meagher on a
special mission) ; but the first thing the prisoners heard of
his arrival was a letter he published in the newspapers on some
personal subject. The same morning he was arrested. They
instantly sent a professional gentleman to him to afford him
every necessary advice or assistance, and to get his report
from the South. The professional gentleman (who was a Con-
federate) was also arrested ; and the prisoners never received
a word from Mr. Halpin on the subject of his mission. These
facts are not irreconcilable with his perfect fidelity, if Meagher
entrusted him with no such message as he states ; but, ii he
did, the non-delivery of it is a serious fact, and must give a
colour to all the rest. — [Charles Gavan Duffy.]
192 MEAGHER OF THE SWORD
news of our being in the field should reach them ; and
when, as an inevitable result, three or four regiments
from the Dublin garrison had been drawn off to rein-
force the troops of the Southern districts.
We had wished good-bye to Halpin, and were going
out, when young R H and Smyth came up.
We told them the arrangements we had made ; en-
treated them to go round to the different Clubs that
evening — state openly to the members what we purposed
doing — communicate to them our wishes ; and exhort
them to observe a calm, patient attitude, until the
moment we designed for their coming into action had
arrived.
They promised faithfully to do so.
We arrived at the Kingstown Railway Station, just
in time to catch the five o'clock train.
The carriages were crowded, and the conversation
very noisy about the Suspension Act. I retain a vivid
picture of one gentleman in particular ; a very stiff,
cold, sober gentleman, with red whiskers and a gam-
bouge complexion ; who took occasion to remark, in
quite a startling and fragmentary style, that " the
Government had done the thing — the desirable thing —
at last — time for them — should have been done long
ago — country had gone half-way to the devil already —
Whigs always infernally slow — ^had given those
scoundrels too much rope — ^but — they'd hang themselves
— ^he'd swear it — that he would."
I nudged Dillon at the conclusion of these consoling
observations. He threw a quiet, humorsome look at
the loyal subject with the red whiskers and gambouge
complexion, and burst out laughing. He was joined by
some gentlemen, and two or three ladies, who recognised
us, but little suspected, I should say, the errand we
were on.
John Mitchel
(Paris, 1861)
NARRATIVE OF 1848 193
At Kingstown we got upon the Atmospheric "Railway,
and rattled off to Dalkey. Half an hour after, we were
at dinner in Druid Lodge, Killiney, where Mrs. Dillon
was staying at the time.
I should have mentioned, before this, that whilst
Dillon and I were at the Council Rooms, in D'Olier
Street, Lawless went to the office of the Wexford Coach,
and engaged for us two inside seats, as far as Ennis-
corthy, in that night's mail ; leaving word with the
clerk, that the gentlemen, for whom he had engaged
the seats, were to be taken up at Loughlinstown ; a
little village, seven miles from Dublin, and little more
than two from Druid Lodge,
The places were taken in the name of Charles Hart,
with a view to conceal our departure from the Police,
who were on the alert ; picking out, in every nook and
corner, information relative to our movements.
At half past eight, we left Druid Lodge for Loughlins-
town. We did not enter the village, however ; but
drew up at the tree, opposite, I believe, to Sir George
Cockburn's demesne.
There, underneath that fine old tree, we remained for
above twenty minutes, until the coach came up ; and,
whilst we were standing in silence imder it, surrounded
by the darkness, which the deepening twilight, mingling
with the shadow of the leaves, threw round us, I could
not but reflect, with something of a heavy heart, upon
the troubled future, within the confines of which I had
set my foot, never to withdraw it.
The evening, which was cold and wet, the gloom and
stillness of the spot, naturally gave rise to sentiments
of a melancholy nature. But, above all, a feeling,
which, for many days, had more or less painfully
pressed upon my mind, and which, in some of the most
exciting scenes I had lately passed through, failed not
13
194 MEAGHER OF THE SWORD
•
to exercise a saddening influence upon my thoughts
and language — the feeling that we were aiming far
beyond our strength, and launching our young re-
sources upon a sea of troubles, through which the
Divine Hand alone could guide and save them ; this
feeling, more than all, depressed me at the moment of
which I speak, and I felt far from being happy.
At that moment, I entertained no hope of success.
I knew well the people were unprepared for a struggle ;
but, at the same time, I felt convinced that the leading
men of the Confederation were boimd to go out, and offer
to the coimtry the sword and banner of Revolt, whatever
consequences might result to themselves for doing so.
The position we stood in ; the language we had
used ; the promises we had made ; the defiances we
had uttered ; our entire career, short as it was, seemed
to require from us a step no less daring and defiant
than that which the Government had taken.
Besides, here was an audacious inroad upon the
liberty of the subject ! The utter abrogation of the
sacred personal inviolability, guaranteed by sound old
law, to all people linked by rags or golden cords to the
Brunswick Crown ! Was it not the choicest ground of
quarrel, upon which a people, provoked and wronged
like the Irish people had been for years and years,
could fling down the gage of battle ?
Was it not said, too, by the most peaceable of our
Repealers, that the moment the Constitution was
invaded, they would soimd the trumpet, and pitch
their tents ? Was it not said, over and over again,
by these sensitive, scrupulous, pious, poor men — ^by
these meek, forbearing, mendicant Crusaders — ^that
they would stand within the Constitution ? On both
feet, within it ? But that, the very instant the soldier
or the lawyer crossed it, they would unsheathe the
NARRATIVE OF 1848 195
sword of Gideon, and, with a mighty voice, call upon
the Lord of Hosts, and the Angel of Sennacherib !
I hold that the leaders of the Confederation were
bound to give these men an opportunity to redeem
their pledges ; bound to give the people, who honestly
and earnestly desired to change their condition, an
opportunity to attempt such a change, if it so happened
that all they required was the opportunity to make the
attempt ; "bound at all events, and whatever might be
the result to themselves, to mark, in the strongest and
most conclusive manner, their detestation of an act
which left a great community to be dealt with, just as
the suspicions of a police magistrate, a detective, or a
Viceroy, might suggest.
And what is the befitting answer of a people to the
Parliaments, the Cabinets, or Privy Councils, that
deem it " expedient " to brand the arms, and gag the
utterance of a nation ? There is but one way to reply
to them, and that is, by the signal-fire of insurrection.
Then again, had we not gone out upon the Suspension
Act, and written our protest against that measure upon
the standard of Rebellion, the English officials would
have been led to believe that the privileges of Irish
citizens might be abused, not only with perfect impunity,
but without one manly symptom of resentment. We
preferred risking omr lives, rather than suffer this con-
temptuous impression to go abroad.
Thoughts such as these crossed my mind — as hastily
and irregularly as I have now written them — ^whilst we
were waiting for the coach. In giving them to you, I
have made no effort to mould them into anything hke
an accurate and graceful form. Yet, misshapen as
they are, you may, perhaps, glean from them the
motives that prompted me to an enterprise which I
felt convinced would fail, and learn the views I took,
196 MEAGHER OF THE SWORD
at the last moment, of our position and its duties,, the
difficulties by which it was surrounded, and the sacrifices
which it exacted.
At nine o'clock the coach came up ; and, having
wished Charles Hart, who had accompanied us from
Druid Lodge, an affectionate farewell, Dillon and I
took our places ; the guard sung out " All right ! "
and, in a second or two, we were dashing away, in
gallant style, along the road to Bray.
We were the only inside passengers, and we had the
good fortune not to be interrupted until we came to
Enniscorthy.
At Rudd's hotel we dismounted, and ordered a car
for Ballinkeele. It was little more than five o'clock,
and the morning was bitterly cold. A clear, bright
sun, however, was melting the thin frost which had
fallen in the night, and changing into golden vapour the
grey mist which arched the gentle current of the Slaney.
Not a soul was stirring in the streets ; the hotel itself
was dismally quiet ; the fowls in the stable yard, and
the gruff old dog, beside the soft warm ashes of the
kitchen fire, were all at rest.
Whilst the car was getting ready, I sat down before
the fire, and taking out the last number of the Felon,
read for Dillon the beautiful, noble appeal — ^written, as
I have imderstood since, by James Fintan Lalor —
which ended with this question : " Who will draw the
first blood for Ireland ? Who will win a wreath thai shall
be green for ever ? "
Passing out of the town, the first object which struck
us was Vinegar Hill, with the old dismantled windmill,
on the summit of it, sparkling in the morning light.
You can easily imagine the topic upon which our con-
versation turned, as we passed it by.
Alas ! it is a bitter thought with me, whilst I write
NARRATIVE OF 1848 197
these lines — more bitter far, a thousand times, than the
worst privations of prison life — ^that, unlike those
gallant Wexfordmen of '98, we have left behind us no
famous field, within the length and breadth of our old
country, which men could point to with proud sensation,
and fair hands strew with garlands.
After an hour's drive we arrived at Ballinkeele, and,
having asked for Smith O'Brien, were shown, by the
servant, to his room.
We found him in bed. He did not seem much sur-
prised at the news we told him, and asked us what we
proposed to do ? DiUon replied, there were three
courses open to us. The first to permit ourselves to
be arrested. The second, to escape. The third, to
throw ourselves upon the country, and give the signal
of insurrection.
O'Brien's answer was just what we had expected.
As to effecting an escape, he was decidedly opposed
to it ; whatever might occur, he would not leave the
country ; and as to permitting ourselves to be arrested,
without first appealing to the people, and testing their
disposition, he was of opinion we would seriously com-
promise our position before the public were we to do
so. The Suspension of the Habeas Corpus Act was an
event, he conceived, which should excite, as it would
assmredly justify, every Irishman in taking up arms
against the Government — at all events, he felt it to be
our duty to make the experiment.
I told him we had come to the same conclusion
previous to oixr leaving Dublin, and were prepared to
take the field with him that day.
He then got up, and having sent for Mr. Maher,
informed him of the news we had brought. It was
arranged we should breakfast immediately, and leave
Ballinkeele with as Uttle delay as possible.
198 MEAGHER OF THE SWORD
At ten o'clock we were seated in Mr. Maher's carriage,
and on our way back to Enniscorthy. Whilst we drove
along, different plans of operation were discussed, of
which the one I now state to you was, in the end, con-
sidered to be the best.
From all we had heard, we were of opinion it would
not be advisable to make our first stand in Wexford ;
very few Confederates having been enrolled from that
county, and our political connection with it, conse-
quently, being extremely slight. Indeed, there was
scarcely a single man of influence in the county, with
whom we could put ourselves in communication ;
and, without taking other circumstances of an un-
favourable nature into consideration, it appeared to
us, that, this being our first visit amongst them, it was
too much to expect that the Wexfordmen would rally
round us with the enthusiasm which the people, in
other parts of the country, where we were better known,
would be sure to exhibit. It was absolutely necessary
to commence the insurrection with heart and vigour,
and, at a glance, we saw, that, in Waterford, in Kil-
kenny, in Tipperary, we might calculate upon the
manifestation of the warmest and boldest spirit.
At first, O'Brien was strongly in favour of going to
New Ross. I was opposed to this, and argued against
it with no little anxiety ; urging upon him the serious
disadvantage it would be to us — ^in case the people of
New Ross responded to our appeal — ^to commence the
fight in a town so helplessly exposed to the fire of
the war-steamers then lying in the Barrow, and the
number of which, in little more than two hours, would
certainly be increased by a contingent from the larger
ones which were anchored in the Suir, abreast of
Waterford.
The like objection prevailed against our selection of
NARRATIVE OF 1848 199
the latter place ; and we finally determined upon
making for Kilkenny. The same plan, in fact, which
Dillon and I thought of, the day before, was agreed to
by O'Brien.
It seemed to him, as it had seemed to us, that Kil-
kenny was the very best place in which the insurrection
could break out. Perfectly safe from all war-steamers,
gunboats, floating batteries ; standing on the frontiers
of the three best fighting counties in Ireland — ^Water-
ford, Wexford, and Tipperary — ^the peasantry of which
could find no difficulty in pouring in to its relief ;
possessing from three to five thousand Confederates,
the greater number of whom we understood to be
armed ; most of the streets being extremely narrow,
and presenting, on this account, the greatest facility
for the erection of barricades ; the barracks lying out-
side the town, and the line of communication, between
the principal portions of the latter and the former,
being intercepted by the old bridge over the Nore,
which might easily be defended, or, at the worst, very
speedily demolished ; no place, it appeared to us,
could be better adapted for the first scene of the revolu-
tion, than this, the ancient " City of the Confederates."
In making this selection, there were one or two con-
siderations, of temporary interest, which influenced us
to some extent.
The railway from Dublin was completed to Bagnals-
town only, leaving fourteen miles of the ordinary coach
road still open between the latter place and Kilkenny.
The thick shrubberies and plantations ; the high
bramble fences, and at different intervals, the strong
limestone walls which flank this road ; the sharp
twists and turns at certain points along it ; the alterna-
tions of hill and hollow, which render a journey by it so
broken and diversified ; its uniform narrowness, and
200 MEAGHER OF THE SWORD
the steep embankments, which, in one or two places,
spring up where its width measures scarcely sixteen
feet ; everything was in favour of its being converted,
by an insurgent population, with almost perfect security
and ease, to the most successful enterprises. Along
this road, as they left the station house at Bagnalstown
and marched upon Kilkenny, whole regiments, drafted
off from Dublin and Newbridge garrisons, might have
been surprised and cut to pieces, had the country once
been up.
Then, the Royal Agricultmral Society was on the
eve of holding its annual Cattle Show in Kilkenny ;
specimens of the choicest beef and mutton had already
arrived, and, in full clover, were awaiting the inspection
of the highest nobles and the wealthiest commoners of
the land. Many, too, of these proud gentlemen had
themselves arrived ; and carriages might have been
met, each hour, along the different avenues to the
town, freighted with the rank, the gaiety, and fashion
of the surrounding coimtry. In case of a sustained
resistance, here was a creditable supply of hostages
and provisions for the Insurgents !
With some hundred head of the primest cattle in
the island, we could have managed admirably behind
the barricades for three or four days ; whilst with a
couple of Earls, from a half a dozen to a dozen baronets,
an odd marquis, or " the only duke " himself, in
custody, we might have found ourselves in an excellent
position to dictate terms to the Goveniment.
We arrived in Enniscorthy between eleven and
twelve o'clock. Dillon and I drove up to the chapel,
just as Mass was commencing.
After Mass, we were joined by O'Brien and the Rev.
Mr. 1 A large crowd collected round us in a few
» Father Parle.
NARRATIVE OF 1848 201
minutes, and, placing ourselves at the head of it, we
proceeded to the house of one of the Confederates.
Here we had a long conversation respecting the
number of men enrolled in the local Clubs, and the
extent to which they were armed. The information
we received upon both these points, confirmed us in
the resolution we had come to, of not attempting any
insurrectionary movement in Wexford, at the outset.
We were assured, however, by the Rev. Mr. , that,
in case an attempt were made by the police to arrest
us, the people, ill-prepared as they were, would certainly
resist it.
We left the house then ; and mounting the car which
was to take us to Graigue-na-mana, spoke a few words
to the people. We told them the time had come
when they should determine whether it were better
to give in quietly to England, or go out, like men, and
make a stand against her, once for all. And having
asked them, would they pledge themselves to take the
field, in case they heard of the people of any neighbouring
county doing so, they replied, with a ringing shout :
" ihat they would / and with God's blessing, too ! "
This pledge having been given, we told them to
lose no time in providing themselves with arms and
ammunition, and making every other arrangement for
turning out ; so that, the moment they heard of
fighting going on in Kilkenny, in Tipperary, or else-
where, they might be prepared to strike a blow in their
own county ; and, by this means, keeping the Govern-
ment forces employed at different points, prevent them
from concentrating to any formidable extent, upon
any one town or district.
Of course, I do not mean to give lengthened " re-
ports " of what we said to the people along our route.
The topics we touched upon, the sentiments we ex-
202 MEAGHER OF THE SWORD
pressed, the appeals we made, you can very easily
conceive.
The versions of our Speeches, produced upon the
trials in Clonmel, and sworn to by the police, have in
them a large degree of truthfulness ; though, what
with bad grammar, bewildered metaphors, sentences
prematurely cut off, or wedged into one another,
without the slightest regard to commonsense, the
rules of rhetoric, or poetic euphony, it is no easy task
to make out their meaning. An eloquent speech is
enough, of itself, to disorganise the police force of
Ireland. A metaphor brings on giddiness of the brain ;
an allusion to the shield of Achilles, or the trumpet of
Alecto, induces the worst symptoms of suffocation ;
blank verse bogs them ; an antithesis starts a sinew ;
and as for an apostrophe ! it is sure to give them sciatica,
or the lock-jaw.
It wanted but a few minutes of one o'clock when we
started from Enniscorthy. Two hundred of the Club-
men, marching in column, four deep, escorted us beyond
the town. A car, containing five more of them, drove
on before us, keeping about a quarter of a mile in
advance. This was done with the view of preventing
any party of police coming upon us by surprise. There
was not much fear of this, to be sure ; O'Brien, however,
thought it better to adopt the precaution.
The day was exceedingly cold, and frequently heavy
falls of rain compelled us, at different intervals, to take
shelter in the cabins along the road. Whenever this
occurred, we made it a point to enter into conversation
with the poor people who owned them ; and though
not in as direct a way as we might have done, yet
sufficiently so for our purpose, we asked them various
questions, with a view to elicit their feeling respecting
the " great rising," concerning which we perceived, in
NARRATIVE OF 1848 203
every instance, a vague impression floating through
their minds.
It depressed us sorely, to observe amongst them but
little inclination to welcome and support it. And here,
at the very outset, we had evidence of the truth which a
short time afterwards we learned to estimate more
clearly, more painfully, and with hearts less able to
bear up against it bravely — the truth, that cold and
nakedness, that hunger and disease, to the last ex-
tremity, had done their work ; had not only withered
up the flesh and pierced the marrow in the bone ; had
not merely preyed upon the physical resources of the
man, until they wore away his substance and his form,
leaving him, beside his poor turf fire, with sunken eye
and wrinkled arm, with faltering tongue and crouching
gait, the flickering shadow of what he was ; but worse
than all — oh ! worse, a thousand times, than death by
the bayonet, or the gibbet — had eaten their way into
the soul itself, killing there the most sensitive, the most
powerful and vital of all instincts ; that instinct, which,
even in the poor worm, the lowest of all God's creatures,
teaches it to turn upon the foot by which its humble
life is perilled.
Hunger, I had thought, would break through gates
of brass and walls of granite ; would rush through
fire, or like the bayed tiger in his last desperate
extremity, spring upon the spears which hemmed it
in!
Nor was I altogether wrong. For the hunger, which,
like the earthquake, or the whirlwind, hath been sent in
sudden wrath upon a people, has done these things, and
done them with the fury of the fiercest elements that
bend the pillars of the sky or shake the foundations of
the sea.
But the hunger of the Irish land was no such visita-
204 MEAGHER OF THE SWORD
tion. It had not come yesterday ; nor a week ago ;
nor yet, for the first time, in the autumn of '45.
On the greyest headstone, in the loneliest and oldest
churchyard, the spectre had sat down, years and years
before ; and from thence had looked out, with cold and
bloodless eyes, upon the land, over the homes and
fruits of which it had been made supreme. Years
upon years — years upon years — ^it had walked the land ;
some few blessing it as a serene angel, sent by God to
chastise and purify ; the multitude cursing it as a foul
fiend, yet falling down before it — acknowledging it
lord and master 1
Years ago, amid the fruits and flowers of radiant
summer, the destroyer had stood concealed, watching
the young soft hands that worked garlands for the pride,
beauty, and gallant boyhood of the land — muttering to
himself, that the flowers would shortly fade, and the
fruits decay, and that all that pride, and beauty, and
gallant boyhood would soon be his — and his, for many
a long day to come !
Years ago, from the peak of the loftiest moimtain in
the South, at an hour when the heavens canopied the
island with their white and azure banners, and that
peak glittered beneath them like a crown of virgin
gold, the phantom had looked down upon the life, and
sweetness, and glory, at his feet — ^boasting like the
devil of the wilderness, that all was his, and delivered
imto him 1
Years ago, in the golden fields of a most joyous
harvest time, he had stood amongst the reapers;
smiling at the thought, that the curse which had ac-
companied the fall was at length revoked, and that the
children of Adam should no longer eat their bread by
the sweat of their brows, as it had been promised !
Everywhere for years and years ; in the valley ;
NARRATIVE OF 1848 203
on the mountain ; amid the roses and the violets of
many a radiant summer ; in the golden fields of many a
joyous harvest-time ; on the hearth-stone, by the side
of the wrinkled and the silver-haired, mumbling to her
words of abject resignation, and pointing to the grave,
so that it were not wet with blood as the sweetest
home beneath the heavens ; everywhere, for years and
years, hunger had been upon our soil ; had ceased, a
generation or two ago, to be a stranger ; was no longer
shvmned ; no longer fought with ; no longer cursed ; it
was the eternal destiny of the land, and heaven's will
be done !
It was, indeed, a sweet relief to us, when, the rain
passing off, and the warm sun shining down upon its
track, enabled us to leave these poor cabins, and pursue
our journey.
We arrived in Graigue-na-mana about three o'clock,
and drove to the little hotel, a few hundred yards above
the bridge, in the main street. Though none of us had
been there before, we were recognised almost im-
mediately. Some of the lightermen, whose boats were
lying in the Barrow close at hand, and who had seen
me frequently in Waterford identified me as I stood
looking out of one of the windows, and the news of our
arrival spread at once from one end to the other of the
town.
A large crowd collected before the hotel at Graigue-
na-mana ; the chapel bell was set a-ringing ; cheers
broke out in wild, glad chorus with it ; girls and women,
from doors and windows, waved handkerchiefs and
green boughs ; old men hobbled out, and propped
themselves against the walls, to listen to the speeches ;
old women shook their aprons, clapped their hands,
and prayed aloud for God's blessing upon the scene.
We presented ourselves to the people ; stated to
eo6 MEAGHER OF THE SWORD
them the object of our visit ; and were borne with
loud hurrahs to the residence of the parish priest.
He was not at home. His curate, however, was
within ; and having expressed a wish to see him for a
few minutes, we were shown into the parlour where he
was seated.
O'Brien told him we had come with the hope of
meeting the parish priest, conceiving it our duty to
state to him, personally the purport of our visit. He
then communicated to the Rev. Mr. M ; that, if I
mistake not, was the name of the cmrate — ^the news of
the Suspension Act, and our intention, if the country
would support us, to make that act the immediate
cause and justification of the armed rising.
O'Brien added, that he and his friends were deeply
sensible of the necessity there existed for having the
sanction and co-operation of the Catholic priests in
such an undertaking, and expressed to the Rev. Mr.
M his apprehension, that imless the priests concurred
with us, any attempt at insurrection, for the present,
would prove abortive.
The Rev. Mr. M said very little, and that little
was of so indecisive a nature as to be somewhat dis-
couraging. The most conclusive sentence we could
eUcit from him, was simply this : " That the whole affair
was a very difficult subject to decide upon."
O'Brien changed the conversation ; and asked about
the crops. Dillon inquired the amount of the population
in Graigue-na-mana, and wished to know whereabouts
General Clooney lived. The Rev. Mr. M pointed
to the house, with evident sensations of relief; and
shook hands with us, complacently, at parting.
During this interview, the people were waiting for
us in the street, and anxiously expecting the result.
Our looks conveyed it to them. The frank and merry
NARRATIVE OF 1848 207
smile upon every face before us, changed in an instant —
as though a black cloud were crossing it — into a dull,
cold, sullen gloom.
O'Brien must have marked the change, for, as he
moved in amongst them, he exclaimed — " Now, boys,
to the old General of '98 ! " 1
There was kindling simshine, there was kindling music,
in those words. The frank and merry smile broke out
afresh ; the glad, wild hurrah rang, clear and heartily,
through the air once more ; the bell pealed forth anew,
with strokes as wild and glad as that hurrah ; and in the
warm heart of that gallant throng, we were carried to
the house of the venerable, dear old man, who still
enjoys upon this earth the homage and the title won, in
earliest manhood, beneath the insurgent flag of Ireland.
The image of this old man ; his venerable looks ; his
words ; his manner towards us, on that day ; all are
vivid to my mind, and I think of him at this moment,
as I beheld him then, with feelings of tender, tearful,
loving admiration.
The moment O'Brien approached him, he threw his
arms round his neck, and embracing him with all the
fondness of a father, dropped warm tears upon his
cheek. He then took Dillon and me by the hands, and
affectionately welcomed us to his house.
We entered with him ; sat down for a few minutes ;
explained to the old General what had occurred, and
what we purposed doing. ^
The conversation over, we went out to the doorway,
1 General Clooney.
' It will be sad news to Meagher and his fellow-exiles, that
the noble old man is in his grave. We had the satisfaction of
meeting him a year after the events described above. His
heart was heavy ; two failures such as he had shared (with half
a century between them) quenched the light of hope ; and,
perhaps, life itself, which cannot exist without it. — [Duffy.]
208 MEAGHER OF THE SWORD
and from thence addressed the people, who, by this
time, had considerably increased in numbers, and were
occupying the gardens in front of the house, the streets
outside, the walls, and trees and windows all about.
We told them we were on our way to Kilkenny,
where we expected to be able to make a stand ; and
that, in case we succeeded in doing so, the men of
Graigue-na-mana should be prepared to act in our
support by cutting up the roads in the neighbourhood,
knocking down bridges, intercepting, in every possible
way, the passage of the police and soldiers through
the country.
We entreated them to lose no time in shaping them-
selves into something like organised bodies ; to form,
for instance, one or two Clubs ; to procure any and
every description of arms ; and at once elect the most
intelligent and daring men of the place, as their leaders.
Here, as in Eimiscorthy, our appeals were responded
to with evident sympathy and enthusiasm ; and, I
firmly believe that had the Graigue-na-mana men
been called upon, that moment, to follow us to Kil-
kenny, or any other place, they would have armed
themselves with stones, scythes, pitchforks and any-
thing else they could lay their hands upon, and have
tramped the road, whithersoever it might have led,
with the gladdest heart, and the stoutest spirit.
As we drove off, two hundred of them accompanied,
and saw us a mile or two upon our road. Most of them
were boatmen, and finer fellows I have seldom seen.
Square-built, light-limbed, muscular ; they seemed to
me, as it were, cut out and rigged for the roughest
work, and were just the sort of men to have com-
menced the business with.
^ But, it was a weary drive to the city of the Butlers I
A cold, wet, dismal drive I Far pleasanter, to have
NARRATIVE OF 1848 209
been mounted in the stirrups, dashing away, along the
splashing road, at the head of a hundred young and
gallant horsemen ; and, as the vesper-bell was ringing
out from old St. Canice, to have crossed the Nore, and
cleared our course, with flashing sabres, to the aisles,
where burgher, priest, and noble, once held high con-
ference in armed and bannered splendour ! ^
Some place along the road, between Gowran and
Kilkenny— I forget exactly where— O'Brien, having
learned that a peurish priest resided there, suggested
*The question, whether the movement should begin in
Kilkenny or Dublin, had long agitated the Confederate counsels.
One section declared for Dublin, af&rming that it was only in
the vital parts a single blow was mortal, and that the seat of
Government was the brain of the system. The opportunity
of seizing upon the mails, and disseminating the first proclama-
tion of the Provisional Government over the whole country in
a single day, was insisted upon ; and it was affirmed that the
position of Dublin, lying between the Grand and Royal Canals,
was a complete military fortification. The other section main-
tained that Dublin could not be won at a blow, choked as it
was with the troops and the friends of the Government ; that
the Irish Movement did not resemble the French Revolution
either in its ways or means, and must not, like it, aim exclusively
at the capital. That, for success, some Authority, which the
people would respect and obey, was essential, and that with
this view the Council of Three Hundred must be called together,
representing the whole country. That each member selected
should be required to have for his constituency a certain number
of men (say, a thousand), regimented into Clubs, and to bring
with him a certain sum of money (say ^loo, a shilling from each
man enrolled). In this way, it was contended, a fund of thirty
thousand pounds (or some approach to it) would be secured — ■
and the will of three hundred thousand armed and organised
men be consolidated in one Council — ^which could negotiate
with the Crown with authority, or give the signal for insurrecr
tion with effect. Kilkenny or Limerick, it was contended, was the
proper place to assemble this Council, in the midst of a friendly
population — and the former was generally preferred. This con-
troversy had turned attention on Kilkenny from the beginning.
But when it was hastily chosen for the last act of the drama,
the previous acts, which would have made the selection judicious,
were all wanting. — [Charles Gavan Duffy.]
'4
210 MEAGHER OF THE SWORD
to Dillon and me the propriety of pajnng him a visit.
We saw no necessity for it, and little impropriety in
leaving it undone ; we yielded, however, to O'Brien's
wish.
At the furthest corner of the field which faced the
house, we observed three priests, taking their evening^
walk. As we approached, one of them came to mejit,
US.
He was a very old, feeble, venerable man ; his walk
was slow and timid ; his voice, faint, gentle, alm6st
sorrowful ; his eyes Ut up with a soft, tranquil, modest
kindliness. He had entered upon the last hour of the
evening of life, and the clouds and stillness of the
longest night v^ch poor mortality shall know were
closing and deepening round him. Yet, one could
catch a glimpse of the Eternal Light behind those
clouds, and the repose of the Good and Blessed was in
that deepening stillness.
He seemed to take little interest in what O'Brien
said ; indeed, seemed hardly sensible of anything
around him. He was gliding softly towards another
land, and leaving the struggles and the sorrows of this
injured one of ours behind him, a long, long way.
I felt glad when we parted from him. My heart was
sad and heavy whilst I gazed upon him ; for it was a
cruelty, I thought, thus to call him back from the
tranquil, shaded path, through which he was descending
to the grave, and ask him to take part in the cares and
tumults of living men. What his name was, I have
never learned.
We arrived in Kilkenny about eight o'clock, and
stopped at the house of oiu: friend. Mrs. met us
in the hall, and gave us the warmest welcome. Her
husband, she told us, was out, attending a meeting of
one of the Clubs, but would shortly return. O'Brien
NARRATIVE OF 1848 211
thought it better to see him at once, and asked the
eldest son — a fine, sprightly, handsome boy — ^to go to
where the Club was sitting, for his father. He did so,
and returned with him in a few minutes.
O'Brien, Dillon and I went up then with him to the
drawing-room, and, for half an hour, and upwards, were
engaged in conversation with him. To the plan we laid
before him, he hesitated to assent. He did not consider
it. advisable to commence in Kilkenny ; at all events,
not for a few days. The Clubs, he informed us, were
insufficiently armed ; miserably so, indeed. The Club
with which he was connected, for instance, out of five
hundred members, had but one hundred armed.
The result, however, of the conversation was an
\mderstanding, that O'Brien, Dillon and I were to leave
Kilkenny the next morning ; drive into Tipperary ;
visit Carrick, Clonmel, and Cashel ; summon the people
of those towns to arms ; and, in three or four days,
return to Kilkenny — at the head of an armed force, if
possible — call out the Clubs, barricade the streets, and,
from the Council Chamber of the Corporation, issue
the first Revolutionary Edict to the country. was
also obliged to leave Kilkenny in the morning, having
been subpoenaed to attend on an important trial at
the Cork assizes.
Whilst we were engaged in this deliberation, the
people, hearing of our arrival, had flocked from all
parts of the city, and were now blocking up the entire
length of William Street. O'Brien, having been
enthusiastically called for, went to the Citizens' Club-
house, from the balcony of which he delivered a noble
speech.
As at Enniscorthy and Graigue-na-mana, he told the
people the time had come for an appeal to arms, and
that he appeared amongst them, to share, with the
212 MEAGHER OF THE SWORD
poorest of his countrymen, the perils and the honours
of a righteous war.
In concluding his speech, he begged of the Clubmen
not to lose a moment in procuring arms, since it was
more than probable, that, before the lapse of five days,
they would be called upon to test their strength with the
English Government. This annotmcement they hailed
with deafening cheers, and cries of : " We'll stand to
you ; We'll die for you I "
Neither Dillon nor I spoke. We felt too much
fatigued to do so. Two or three local gentlemen, how-
ever, addressed the crowd ; but what they said, I
altogether forget.
The following morning we breakfasted at eight
o'clock; after which, O'Brien went out, and paid a
couple of visits. had started, some hours
previously, for Cork. Dillon and I remained within,
and had an interview with five or six of the principal
Confederates. They were the Presidents, and Vice-
Presidents, and Secretaries of the different Clubs. We
stated to them the resolution we had come to, the
night before. They approved of it heartily, and
promised to work, day and night, to procure and dis-
tribute arms among the Clubmen, so as to be fully
prepared to support us on our return from Tipperary.
We then arranged with them the streets that were to
be barricaded ; the houses that were to be occupied ;
the number of men to be stationed on each barricade ;
the proportion of pikemen to each musketeer ; and
several other details. A complete programme, in fact,
was sketched out and determined upon. The men
with whom we held the interview were yovmg, in-
telligent, active fellows ; evidently in thorough down-
right earnest, and full of ardour. So much so, indeed,
that Dillon and I parted from them in the highest
NARRATIVE OF 1848 213
spirits, and with the beHef that, by the end of the
week, the " faire citie " would be in the hands of her
own brave people, and the Green Flag flying, in defiance
to all strangers, from the walls of Ormond Castle 1
At one o'clock we left Kilkenny for Callan. On
entering this town, we were surprised to find a large
concourse of people, headed by the Temperance Band,
waiting to receive us. We learned afterwards, that
in passing through on the Cork mail, had told
them we were coming.
A large bon-fire blazed in the centre of the main
street. The door-ways of the houses were decked out
with laurel boughs ; whilst, from many of the windows,
small green flags, decorated with flowers and ribands,
were flying gaily. As we drove a little further on,
hundreds of fine young fellows rushed towards us,
waving their hats, cheering to the top of their voices,
and passionately grasping us by the hands. Lively,
handsome girls — ^with flashing black eyes and cheeks
of the brightest bloom — ^bounded through the crowd,
threw their arms about our necks, and kissed us, amid
the smiles and merry loud applause of their own
brave boys.
The latter compelled us to dismount, and fall in
behind them. The band struck up " The White
Cockade," and with a light step, and hearts as light, we
swept on to the Market house.
Arriving at this place, we found it occupied by a
party of the 8th Hussars ; a troop of which had come in
that morning from Fethard, and were on their way,
with the rest of the regiment, to Newbridge from
Ballincollig.
At the moment we entered, they were busy cleaning
their bridles, saddles, carbines, sword-belts, and other
accoutrements. Seeing the crowd approach the Market-
214 MEAGHER OF THE SWORD
house, some of them were for starting off, at first, and
leaving the position in the hands of the " enemy."
Just as I made my appearance at the door, a tall
Englishman, with a shirt speckled all over with blue
miniature-likenesses of Jenny Lind, was on the point
of bolting down the stone steps which led from the top
room to the street ; having managed to coil his saddle
girths, saddle-cloth, and every other appurtenance —
round one arm, whilst from the other, as from a pro-
jecting show-rod over the door-way of a Jew's shop,
there dangled a variety of articles, in an aggregate of
the most complicated disorder. There was, for instance,
a cloak, a pair of short boots, a shako, a brown pocket-
handkerchief, and a glazed stock of the most suffocating
inflexibility. Most of his comrades were Irish, and
biu'st out laughing at him. One fine lad wanted to
know " where the blazes Jim was flying to in that
helter-skelter style, as if a mine had knocked the feet
from under him."
I told them there was no necessity for their leaving
the building ; that no advantage would be taken of
them ; that their arms were just as safe there as they
would be in Dublin Castle ; perhaps more so.
" We know that, sir," replied the young corporal,
" we know well you wouldn't take an unfair advantage
of the poor soldiers ; at any rate, you wouldn't do it
to the Irish Hussars."
" Three cheers," I cried, going to the door, and
calling upon the people, " three cheers, boys, for the
8th Royal Irish Hussars I "
The tall Englishman with the Jenny Lind shirt, who
was standing close to me, grasped his traps again, and
swore he'd stand it no longer, but be off. Upon con-
sideration, however — seeing, I presume, it would be no
easy matter to cut his way through the crowd which
NARRATIVE OF 1848 215
surrounded the Market-house — he adopted, with strong
reluctance apparently, the alternative of remaining
where he was.
During the entire time we were addressing the
people the Hussars stood behind us, inside the door-way,
and listened to us, with deep interest and satisfaction.
Dillon told me, that whilst I was speaking, he was
particularly struck by the appearance of the corporal ;
" His eye was full of fire ; his lips set ; his clear, frank
features, lit up with a glow of pleasure and enthusiasm,
betrayed the gallant treason of his heart ; and when,"
continued Dillon, " alluding to the police — ^who were
scattered, here and there, all through the crowd — ^you
told them, that ' in a day or two, you were to moimt
the Green yourself," he looked as if he would have
leaped down amongst the people, and pledged his love
and courage to their cause."
Here, too — as we had already done in Enniscorthy,
in Graigue-na-mana, and Kilkenny — ^we called upon the
people to provide themselves at once with arms, for we
had come to the determination, if the country would
support us, to bring, at length, the old quarrel between
England and Ireland to an issue, and, it was probable,
that, before the close of the week, a thousand Tipperary-
men would be in full march, along that road, upon
Kilkenny.
Had you heard the thrilling cheer with which this
announcement was received, you would have believed
with us, that no rash experiment was on the eve of
being made ; you would have believed that the spirit
of the country had been stirred from its most secret
depths, and that a torrent, which would sweep all
before it, had been struck from the rock, and was
bounding through the land !
With this belief we left the little town of Callan on
2l6 MEAGHER OF THE SWORD
that day — Monday, July the 24th — and pursued our
road to Carrick.
At Nine-mile-house we stopped to change horses ;
and whilst we were waiting for the fresh relay, twenty
or thirty of the country people, who happened to be
about the place at the time, flocked round us. We
entered, of course, into conversation with them ; told
them the business we were on ; the resolution we had
come to ; the plan of operations we proposed to carry
out ; and asked them could we depend upon that part
of the country ? Were the people, about there, favour-
able to a rising ? Were they armed ? To what extent ?
Had any Clubs been formed in the neighbourhood ?
How were the priests disposed ?
In answer to all these questions, except the last, we
received the most encouraging assurances.
We might depend upon them ; there wasn't a man
among them that wasn't true ; they were long expecting
it would come to this, and a pity it hadn't been done
five year ago, when Mr. O'Connell had the people and
the priests at their head ; they were armed well enough ;
if they all hadn't guns, they had their hooks, and their
spades, and their forks, at any rate ; and though they
weren't as smart as the guns, they'd stand to them well
enough when 'it came to close quarters. As for the
Clubs, there were one or two in the neighbourhood,
and the people a-bouts were enrolling themselves as
fast as they could. But as for the priests — ^there was
only an odd one or two up to the mark ; and they
could not do much, owing to their being the curates,
and the parish priests were agin them intirely ; yet if
they had a priest, at all, at all, it wasn't much matter
about the rest, for the people were tired of keeping so
quiet, and dying from day to day.
' After this copversation, we dpsjred twp or three foie
NARRATIVE OF 1848 317
young fellows, whose appearance greatly struck us, and
whose earnestness and enthusiasm it was impossible
not to detect in every look, and word, and gesture — ^we
desired them to disperse through the adjoining country
that night, and let the people know we had determined
upon taking the field ; and it was more than probable
we would be marching, at the head of an armed body,
by that very place, before the end of the week ; and,
if this should be the case, it would be well we were met
at Nine-mile-house by the Clubs and peasantry of the
neighbourhood ; indeed, it was absolutely necessary
we should be reinforced at every town, village, and
house along the road, since our project was to attack
and take possession of Kilkenny.
The moment we had given them these instructions,
they started off ; and, a few days afterwards, I learned,
that, the whole of that night, these three young peasants
were on foot, traveUing from house to house, from cabin
to cabin, passing, in every direction, within a circuit
of seven miles and more, the word we gave them — ^never
once resting, never taking a drop to drink, nor a bit to
eat, until the morning woke.
I forget what hour it was when we reached Nine-mile-
house. It could not have been, however, very far from
our usual dining hour, for we felt extremely hungry ;
the consequence of which was that, previous to our
starting for Carrick, O'Brien proposed we should have
some dinner.
If I remember rightly, there are only two public-
houses at this place ; and into one of them — ^the one
on the right-hand side of the road, as you come up
from Carrick — ^we made our way forthwith. The good-
humoured-looking woman behind the counter made "a
courtesy as we entered, and asked us wouldn't we walk
into the parlour and sit down ^-whjle ? O'Brien
2i8 MEAGHER OF THE SWORD
thanked her, and said that, as we were anxious to
leave for Carrick with as little delay as possible, we
preferred taking anything she had, in the way of dinner,
where we were.
" Oh, then, dinner, indeed ! " she replied, " it's a
poor dinner we can give you ; all we have are a few
hard eggs, a little salt butter, some bread, and a cup
of new milk, if you won't have the spirits."
" That will do admirably," said O'Brien ; " we must
learn to put up with worse before long, I expect."
" Indeed, then," rejoined the poor woman, " it's the
best they've got you'll have from the people at any
rate, wherever you go, your honour ; and proud they'll
be, if you take it ; little as it'll be, God help them ! "
The eggs and the milk and the salt butter and the
bread, were laid out upon the counter, and we set to
work with great heart and the keenest appetite ; our
good, kind hostess blushing very hard all the time,
and now and then exclaiming, as she turned away her
head, and pretended to be very busy looking for some-
thing on the shelves behind the coimter, that " Sure
it was a pity and a shame to see such gentlemen taking
such fare, and they with their own comfortable homes."
When we had done, I went out to see that the luggage
was all right, and settle with the driver who had brought
us from Kilkenny.
A number of policemen were lounging about the car,
and one of them, on my moving towards him, touched
his cap, and expressed a hope " that Mr. Meagher was
in good health, and wouldn't come to any trouble, as
he knew his family well."
I asked him, " How was that ? Was he ever in
Waterford ? "
" Yes, sir," he said, " I was in Waterford, but a long
time ago ; not for these twenty years, or more."
NARRATIVE OF 1848 219
" Well," I replied, "if so, you could hardly have
seen me."
" That's true enough," he continued to observe,
" that's true enough. I never seen yourself till now ;
but I seen your father and the rest of the family, at
your grandfather's funeral — ^that is, your mother's
father's funeral — and a splendid funeral it was — it
covered the length of the Quay."
This was no other than the respectable old sergeant of
police, of whose evidence Mr. Whiteside, upon cross-
examination, made so much fun that the solemn Chief
Justice, was obliged to interpose, and threaten to have
the court-house cleared if another laugh was heard. I
recollect the scene well.
" You say, sir," inquired Mr. Whiteside, " that you
had a conversation with Mr. Meagher at the Nine-mile-
house ? "
" Yes."
" Well, sir, pray may I ask you, if it is not intruding
too much upon your confidence, what may have been
the purport of that conversation ? "
" Why, nothing at all," replied the poor sergeant,
" only I told him I was at his grandfather's funeral."
" Then, sir," resumed Mr. Whiteside, " the sum total
of your connection with Mr. Meagher amounts to this,
and this only — ^that you were at his grandfather's
funeral ? "
A perceptible suppression of violent convulsions here
took place.
" Why then," said the sergeant, " that's all ; and I
agree with the learned Counsel, that same is not much."
Here the convulsions broke out, and were threatening
to put an end, for the rest of the day, to everything like
order and sobriety, when, as I have already mentioned,
the inexorable Chief of the Queen's Bench vigorously
220 MEAGHER OF THE SWORD
interposed— instructing the High Sheriff to clear the
court, in case any such improper levity occurred for
the future.
Finding that the sergeant had nothing else of im-
portance to communicate, I wished him good-bye, and
took my seat on the car. O'Brien and Dillon were
already seated ; so, we took off our hats to the poor
fellows who were standing round us, and joining in the
cheers they gave for " The Green above the Red,"
dashed away for Carrick.
I think it was within five miles of the latter place,
that, seeing some men working in a field, we pulled up,
and beckoned them to come to us. There were cross-
roads, at all events, where we stopped ; and this cir-
cumstance will serve to indicate the distance we were
from Carrick, at the time I speak of, should you ever
pass along our line of road, and feel a curiosity to
ascertain the different points at which any particular
incidents connected with our movement occurred.
The men threw down their spades, and, running across
the field, leaped the ditch by the road-side, and came up
to us immediately. O'Brien introduced himself, first
of all, to them ; and then introduced Dillon. In my
case, no introduction was required. They knew me
beforehand.
" You're welcome 1 You're welcome, Mr. Meagher I "
they exclaimed ; " and we hope your honour has been
well since you were on SUevenamon with us ? "
I asked them had they been at the great meeting
there ?
" Faith, then, we were," they said, " and we'll be up
there again if you want us."
O'Brien intimated it was probable we would, and
that they could easily guess the reason we had called
them over frojn thejr work,
NARRATIVE OF 1848 221
" Well, sure enough, we might," one of them replied,
" for there's talk this morning in Carrick — so they tell
us — about the Government arresting you ; and if they
do, you may depend upon us. We let them know a bit
of our minds the other day, when there was a report of
Father Byrne's being arrested."
" Oh ! " said O'Brien, " I heard something of that
before, but I should like to hear something more about
it."
" Why, the short and the long of it is, that, when the
report spread, the chapel-bell was set ringing, and all the
people of the town turned out, most of them with pikes ;
and when the news came out here, why, there wasn't a
man nor a boy of fifteen that didn't take the road ; but,
it so happened, there was no truth in the report, and
Father Byrne quieted the people, and we came back,
when we were within a couple of mile of the place, for,
your honour, there was nothing for us to do in Carrick ;
and that's all about it."
" Then," resumed O'Brien, " I conclude we may
reckon upon you, in case we are compelled to take the
field ? "
" Indeed, then, you may," they replied, " and upon
himdreds besides, round about here ; for we have two
Clubs in the neighbourhood, and Mr. O'Mahony — as
noble a young gentleman as ever you laid your eyes
upon — ^is President of one of them."
" Does Mr. O'Mahony," inquired Dillon, " live near
here ? "
" Quite convanient, your honour," was the reply,
" and one of us will run up and fetch him down, if
you'd like to see him."
" Certainly," said O'Brien, " by all means ; he is
just the man we want to see."
Away went one of them, then, up one of the cross-
222 MEAGHER OF THE SWORD
roads ; and whilst he was absent, O'Brien, Dillon, and
I. mingled with the country people who had collected
round the car, and quietly conversed with them.
There were some noble-looking girls in the little
group, and the enthusiasm with which they spoke of the
coming fight I shall never forget. It had no terrors for
them ; it wore, in their frank and beautiful eyes, no
fiendish aspect. Far otherwise, indeed !
Encircled with a wreath of crimson light, crowned
with the sweet wild flowers and the golden fruitage of
their native soil, the armed spirit of the nation's liberty
approached them as a warrior angel, and they hailed
the vision with blessings, and songs of welcome !
Think not that I write this in a mood of idle, driftless
exaggeration, and that such sentiments have no deeper
birth than those meaningless, insincere, and wanton
compliments, with which our public men, at dinners,
soirees, and meetings, consign to contempt and pro-
fanation some of the finest sensibilities, and one of the
loftiest adorations of the human heart. Sickened at
this disfigurement of a noble theme, I have, at all
times, in my speeches and my writings, abstained from
giving expression to sentiments such as it is now my
pride to vindicate, lest, failing to utter them with due
delicacy and decorum, I should myself participate in
the vulgar impropriety I here condemn.
But, my mind would feel ill at ease, indeed, if in this
little narrative — graceless and unstudied as it is — I
refrained from uttering one poor, simple, word in
recognition of that pure, sweet, earnest, dauntless spirit,
which, during the course of the proceedings I relate,
shone out, and, even in the cloudiest seasons of our
misfortune, clothed in radiant loveliness the daughters
of our native land.
Should these pages ever come to light, let no frivolous,
NARRATIVE OF 1848 223
dull, or withered heart ; let no heart whose blood has
turned to gall amid the insincerities and cruelties of the
world, or whose diviner aspirations — driven back by
the cold and jewelled hand of a faithless and irreverent
society — ^have died, in paltriest cowardice, within the
field of that rich nature from whence they sprung ; let
no such heart scan with distrust, with levity, or scorn,
this, the humble tribute I have offered up to the fond,
brave sisterhood of our sad old island.
In the proudest moments of our career, when
thousands stood around us, and the chivalrous passion
of our country arose and burned, like a signal-fire
upon the hills, at the bidding of our invocation ; in
the darkest and most desolate moments of our outlaw's
life, when house and hearth were barred against us,
and we knew not where to lay our heads ; in the loneliest
and most abject moments of our imprisonment, when
not a ray of hope or honour flickered above our cells ;
when the pimps and scribes of our triumphant foe were
busy with their jibes and sarcasms, and slander showered
her venom upon our acts, our failure, and our sacrifice ;
when treachery broke loose beneath us, and those whom
we had thought would have had the decency to be
silent, since they had not the courage to befriend us,
stood up amongst our enemies, and fawned upon them ;
when vulgar Pharisees, garbed in civic ermine, voted
from their Council-rooms thanks to the special provi-
dence of the English Castle, which had, to use their
silken dialect, " with so much sagacity, and above all,
with so much leniency," averted the event they had
themselves not shunned, not fought against — ^not they,
the Loyalists ! — ^but had urged on, by Repeal Debates,
and Rotunda Levees, and congratulatory addresses to
the Government of France, and the coming of which
they had hailed, and panted for so greedily in the
224 MEAGHER OF THE SWORD
recesses of their hearts, and the veiled sanctuaries of
their dwelling-places ; when the public voice was
hushed, and the honest heart could find no vent for
all its anguish but through muttered throbbings ; in
this, as in every vicissitude of our career — in the saddest
as in the brightest — ^we were cheered, inspired, ennobled,
by the sympathy of that fair, courageous, faithful
sisterhood.
Oh ! whilst the songs and sympathies of a choir so
glorious vibrate through these skies of ours let no
true son of the Irish land despair ! From such a choir
will come the Brides of a gallant soldiery — ^the mothers
of another Grachii !
We had not been more than twenty minutes in con-
versation with this little group, when the clatter of
horse's hoofs was heard. On looking up the cross-
road to our right, we saw a tall, robust, gallant-looking
fellow, mounted on a strong black horse, coming at
full speed, towards us.
This was O'Mahony — one of the noblest young
Irishmen it has been my pride to meet with during the
course of my short public life.
His square, broad frame ; his frank, gay, fearless
look ; the warm, forcible, headlong earnestness of his
manner ; the quickness and elasticity of his move-
ments ; the rapid glances of his clear, full eye ; the
proud bearing of his head ; everjrthing about him,
struck us with a brilliant and exciting effect, as he
threw himself from his saddle, and, tossing the bridle
on his arm, hastened to meet and welcome us.
At a glance, we recognised in him a true leader for
the generous, passionate, intrepid peasantry of the
South. As we clasped his hand, the blood dashed in
joy and triumph through our veins ; for a moment,
every sensation, approaching to disquietude or despon-
NARRATIVE OF 1848 225
dency, vanished from our minds ; and, in a dazzling
trance of exultation, we became sensible, in his presence,
of no emotions, save those of the most joyous
confidence.
Strange it is, the influence which a man of a fine and
soldierly appearance, flinging himself into a revolu-
tionary movement, has upon the feelings of the most
utter stranger. I had never seen O'Mahony previous
to this interview ; had heard of him but once before,
and that in a very slight way indeed ; yet, I greeted
him at this moment with a warmth of expression,
which, I had thought, would have escaped me only in
conversation with the oldest and most trusted com-
panion.
A thousand glowing pictures, too, flashed across my
mind, as I looked into his open, manly, well-traced
features, and read there the force and daring of his
courageous heart.
They are still before me : —
Armed columns of the peasantry, pouring down
through gap and river-course, scaring, with their tramp
and shout, the eagle from his solitude, and waking the
echoes from their enchanted sleep in the shadowy
mountains far off
Camp-fires, quivering through the mist and star-
Hght, along the hills the rude challenges of the out-
posts ^the signal-shots and pass-words of the scouts.
The grey morning breaking, cind the flag of the
proud old Irish race flying out from rath and round
tower, from bridge and belfry, kindling into rapture the
morning-hymn of many a young and gallant spirit
Then, the red ensign, in some lone defile ^hedged
in by lines of crossed and matted steel ^bending, and
splitting, and scattering into scorched and blackened
shreds, beneath the volleying clouds, which, from tree
IS
226 MEAGHER OF THE SWORD
and rock, swept down, and broke, in thunder peals,
around it !
With somewhat of a firm hand I have traced them
here ; yet, with how mournful a light do the lingering
recollections of such visions abide with me, in these
clouded days of solitude, silence, and captivity ! How
vain, senseless, and boyish, as they say, must seem
these visions to you ; now that the summer warmth
from which they expanded into glory hcis departed,
and a bleaksome winter has come upon the land !
Willingly, in truth, would I draw a black veil over
these beautiful, sunlit pictures ; concealing them from
every eye, until the splendour descending from the
uplifted forehead of our transfigured nation, should
beautify and render them immortal prophecies.
But, I am not confining myself to a recital of mere
incidents.
As far as my memory enables me, I am telling you
sincerely what I thought, and felt ; what hopes, affec-
tions, fears, crossed my mind, almost in every scene we
passed through ; and, anxious as I am, that you should
know the whole truth, I think it would be uncandid —
weak and timorous it would be, certainly — ^to make,
with regard to my conjectures — ^nay, even with regard
to my infatuations — ^the slightest reservation.
From what I have already said, you will easily con-
ceive that our conversation with O'Mahony was fTill
of hopefulness.
He represented to us that the country all about
Carrick, on towards Clonmel, and along the Suir on
the Tipperary side, was thoroughly alive, and ready to
take the field at once.
Producing a couple of leather-covered books from his
pocket, he ran over the names of the Clubmen of whom
he was the President ; enumerated the sections into
NARRATIVE OF 1848 227
which he had divided them ; mentioned who the
captains of the sections were ; the number that were
armed ; and then, entered into larger details, as to the
prevalence of the insurrectionary spirit, and the zeal
with which the people, in his neighbourhood, were
providing themselves with pikes, and every other
description of arms.
Never, never, can I forget the enthusiasm of this
gallant, glorious fellow, as he spoke to us, and ran
through these details. It was the enthusiasm of a
heart, which, fearless itself of danger — panting to meet
and grapple with the deadliest peril — lost sight of every
difficulty ; and, borne aloft upon its own impetuous
faith, exultingly believed that the country had but to
strike to prove herself invincible.
The plan of action we had adopted in Kilkenny — and
which had been stated openly to the people in Callan
and at the Nine-mile-house — ^we communicated, of
course, to O'Mahony. Though strongly of opinion
we should commence, that very night in Carrick, he
gave way to our suggestions, and promised to meet us,
at the head of his Club, and any number of peasantry
he could collect in the meantime, at any place, day, and
hour we specified.
We then drove off, and, in little more than half an
hour, entered Carrick.
I know not how to describe the scene we witnessed
on entering this town.
Though many months have passed away since, I am
still as perplexed about that strange scene as when I
stood in the midst of it, and felt myself up-borne by
the mighty passions it disclosed. It was then more
like a chream to me than an actual occurrence ; and it
now seems to me the same.
A torrent of human beings, rushing through lanes
228 MEAGHER OF THE SWORD
and narrow streets; surging and boiling against the
white basements that hemmed it in ; whirling in dizzy
circles, and tossing up its dark waves, with sounds of
wrath, vengeance, and defiance ; clenched hands, darting
high above the black and broken surface, and waving
to and fro, with the wildest confusion, in the air ; eyes
red with rage and desperation, starting and flashing
upwards through the billows of the flood ; long tresses
of hair — disordered, drenched, and tangled — streaming
in the roaring wind of voices, and, as in a shipwreck,
rising and falling with the foam ; wild, half-stifled,
passionate, frantic prayers of hope ; invocations, in
sobs, and thrilling wailings, and piercing cries, to the
God of Heaven, His saints, and the Virgin Mary ;
challenges to the foe ; curses on the red flag : scornful,
exulting, delirious defiances of death ; all wild as the
winter gusts at sea, yet as black and fearful, too ; this
is what I then beheld — these the sounds I heard — such
the dream which passed before me !
It was the Revolution, if we had accepted it.
Why it was not accepted, I fear I cannot with
sufficient accuracy explain. For, as I have already
said, of that whole scene I remember nothing clearly,
save the passion, the confusion, and the tumult.
As a dream it came ; and so it passed before me. As
such, alone, I now remember it.
Would to heaven ! that with these words, I could
here lay down my weary pen, and write no more of
that mournful past, amid the wreck of which — amid
the trampled laurels, the soiled and torn banners, the
broken shields, the drooping plumes, the extinguished
lamps, the cold and crownless altar-stones of which — I
sit imprisoned !
But this cannot be ! The love I bear my country ;
the proud . love with which I recognise, assert, and
NARRATIVE OF 1848 229
worship, her ancient name, descent, and glory ; the
jealous love with which I sit in sorrow by her tomb,
awaiting the morning of her resurrection ; this love
will not exonerate me from the task I have undertaken.
I must resume, then — distasteful and dispiriting as
it is — the line of my broken story.
Extricating ourselves from the immense crowd which
hemmed us in on every side, we made our way to the
house of Mr. P ; which house, if I recollect rightly,
is situated somewhere about the middle of the main
street, opposite to Shannahan's hotel.
It was from one of the front windows of this house
that, on the Sunday week previous, I addressed upwards
of 15,000 people, on my coming down from Slievena-
mon. Mr. P had been for some time an ardent
Confederate, and having, on many occasions, given
very striking evidence of his earnest sympathy with
our movement, we did not hesitate to select his house
as the fittest one for any consultation it might be
necessary for us to hold.
On entering the hall, we met several of the more
prominent members of the Carrick Clubs, and two or
three gentlemen, residing in the vicinity of the town,
whose identification with us, in purpose as well as sen-
timent, was well known, and to be relied on thoroughly.
I missed, however, the Rev. Mr. Byrne, one of the
Catholic Curates of the town ; a young and gallant
clergyman, who had, from the commencement, shown
a. bold front in the national movement. He was too
good a man to be absent. As the trusted guide and
leader, too, of the local Clubs, I conceived it was his
duty to be with us at so critical a moment ; and that,
whether it declared for peace or war, his opinion
should be sought for.
Having learned that he was at the residence of the
230 MEAGHER OF THE SWORD
parish priest, the Very Rev. Dr. Connolly, I sat down
and wrote him a note, earnestly begging of him to come
over, and give us the benefit of his honest and affec-
tionate advice.
Whilst waiting for the answer, we remained in the
drawing-room, anxiously conversing with the officers
of the different Clubs, of which, in this little town, there
had been organised, within the last six weeks, no less
than twelve.
A confused and distracted conversation it was, as
well as a truly anxious one !
Everyone was giving his favourite opinion ; setting
forth, with boisterous impetuosity, his own peculiar
views; urging, with broken phrases and impatient
utterance, a plan of action, isolated from, and, in the
end, utterly hostile to and contradictory of all the rest.
One was for commencing there and then. Another
proposed that the night should be spent in preparation,
and that the morning should be ushered in with the
volleying of guns and the gleaming of pike-heads. A
third suggested — altogether overlooking the Suspension
Act — that the elections for the Council of Three Hundred
should take place with as little delay as possible, and
that thft Delegates should proceed, immediately upon
their election, to the Rotunda, each escorted by one
thousand armed men, selected from the constituents
of his electoral division. A fourth was in favour of a
camp on Slievenamon. A fifth for taking to the
loughs and glens of the Commeragh, and there holding
out until the country had armed herself more formidably.
There was a sixth proposition, too, and a seventh, and
an eighth ; and, for all I remember to the contrary,
there may have been as many as the First Book of
Euclid contains.
Never did I behold so perplexing and bewildering a
NARRATIVE OF 1848 231
tumult ! Never did there occur to me a scene less
susceptible of repose, of guidance, of any clear, steady,
intelligible control !
Within, there was this confusion and uproar of
tongues ; without, there was the tossing and surging
of the mighty throng, whose deep vibrations shook
the walls of the house in which we were assembled.
Add to this, that himdreds were blocking up the stair-
case ; crowding and crushing on the landing-places ;
crowding and crushing round the table at which we
sat ; pressing down upon us, in their hot anxiety to
see and hear us ; and, for this very reason, and urged
on by this same vehernent and generous passion, were
overpowering every exertion we strove to make — •
drowning completely every word we uttered — ex-
hausting our strength, and rendering us incapable of
guiding with a firm hand the elements that swept and
roared around us.
Note by Gavan Duffy
The history of what was done, and omitted to be
done, at Kilkenny, has been an earnest subject of
inquiry with us. A Kilkenny Confederate, perfectly
familiar with the entire business, furnished this account
of O'Brien's visit, which throws additional light on
Meagher's narrative : —
" Kilkenny was ill prepared to begin so important a
struggle, and one wherein it was of the most para-
moimt consequence that the first blow should not be a
failure. There were four Clubs, one in each of the
parishes of Kilkenny, but they were not Confederate
Clubs, and had never been in union with the Confedera-
tion. They were Clubs of what were called ' United
Repealers.' That is, l^ung and Old Irelanders blended
232 MEAGHER OF THE SWORD
under a new name ; and the officers of some of them were
strictly Old Irelanders. These Clubs were only newly
formed, and, as Clubs, were neither drilled nor armed.
Within the previous week they had given in their ad-
hesion to the ' Irish League,' then formed, which they
joined in a body, numbering seventeen hundred. Now
in the report of the League meeting, the seventeen
hundred were returned in the Freeman newspaper as
seventeen thousand ; and this error was copied by all
the papers, so that Kilkenny was thus reputed to have
had enrolled in its Clubs tenfold the number that
really were in those associations. Then again, this
seventeen hundred included old men and mere boys,
as well as adults, so that the real affective strength of
the Clubs might have been somewhere about six hundred
men.
" Of these, not one-third were armed, and not one-
sixth armed with guns, while the quantity of powder
and ball was most meagre indeed, and the remainder
of the arms consisted of bayonets, swords, and pike
heads without handles. In fact, there was no ex-
pectation of an immediate outbreak, and matters were
far removed from being in a state of readiness to meet
so prompt a call. The bulk of the shop-keepers had
not joined the movement at all, so the Clubs consisted
chiefly of tradesmen, operatives and labourers. There
was no means within reach for the immediate arming
of the people. There were four arms' shops in the town
but they would not supply above sixty stand of arms
of the range of carbines or muskets.
" The garrison consisted of one thousand infantry,
with two troops of cavalry and some slight ordnance.
The wall surrounding the garrison was ten feet high,
well looped, supplied inside with ' banquets,' and ad-
mirably fitted to resist an attac^ from a body of three
NARRATIVE OF 1848 233
or four thousand infantry. Unless with cannon to make
a breach in its walls, it would be most difficult to take it.
" When O'Brien, Meagher and Dillon reached Kil-
kenny, they were of opinion that that city was the
ground to begin on, and that a rapid surprise of the
garrison would succeed. The true state of Kilkenny's
strength was laid before them, with the certainty of
the failure of such an attempt. Cannon there was
none ; and neither men nor arms sufficient for such a
fight ; an escalade was, therefore, out of the question ;
a street barricade to tempt the military out was equally
impossible, the more especially as the houses along the
lines of street were mostly those of neutrals — nay, of
enemies, few of friends.
" John Dillon, who weighed all with the coolness of
a practised and calculating soldier, offered to attempt
the garrison, if five hundred armed men would be got
to follow him. But this was out of the question,
though Meagher, with that gallantry so markedly his
own, offered to start instantly for Waterford, and by
morning to return with one hundred armed men, and
whom he proposed to bring up in cars ; but it was
considered, that even this addition, supposing it was
able to leave Waterford and reach Kilkenny without
interruption, would not make a force adequate to so
bold a blow.
" Kilkenny being impracticable, attention was now
turned to Carrick-on-Suir, where it was stated there
were two thousand Clubmen nearly all armed, mostly
men of desperate enterprise, and with a garrison in
the town of only two hundred soldiers — ^where men and
arms were vastly more numerous on the side of the
Confederation than on that of the army — in fine, where
matters were in the inverse condition of Kilkenny, and
where if the people moved they must have succeeded.
234 MEAGHER OF THE SWORD
Thus the gain would have been not merely victory,
but the prestige of the first blow being victorious,
which would have lit all Ireland ; whereas, the failure
of the first blow would have ruined everything. And
that then, having succeeded at Carrick, they might
march from thence upon both Clonmel and Kilkenny,
both of which would be sure to fall into the hands of
the national army, they would be able to lead from
Carrick ; and that, when that army reached Kilkenny,
the Clubs would respond effectively to their call.
" There were present at this discussion two Presidents
of Kilkenny Clubs, and on the following morning,
previous to O'Brien and his friends leaving Kilkenny,
several of the most determined of the Clubmen waited
on them.
" While Dillon and Meagher were for immediate and
prompt attack, O'Brien was most desirous that arrest
or attempt at arrest, and then rescue, should precede
actual war, and that when so rescued they should head
the people. However, he offered no opposition to the
views of his associates."
Narrative of the Penal Voyage to
Tasmania.
[This narrative of Meagher's was contained in a letter to
Gavan Duffy written from Campbell Town in February, 1850.]
On Saturday, October 28th, 1849, between eight
and nine o'clock in the evening, we reached our destina-
tion. The voyage was what they call an average one,
having been accomplished in a hundred and some odd
days. The weather, during it, was, generally speaking,
extremely fine. From Kingstown Harbour to the Cape
not more than a fortnight's rain occurred ; and that,
not all at once, but at intervals ; three days at a time
being the longest succession of wet weather with which
we were troubled.
The passage across the Indian Ocean, however, was,
on the whole, exceedingly unpleasant. Heavy falls of
rain, accompanied by the wildest gales, frequently
occurred ; the latter driving us considerably to the
south, and introducing us — at a distance, to be sure,
but unmistakably enough — ^to the white bergs and
icebergs of the bleak Antarctic. Add to this, that,
for the six weeks we were fighting through these cold,
wild waves, not a sail appeared, nor had we the faintest
glimpse of land.
Yet, what with our little library, and pens, and
logbooks — ^M'Manus's backgammon box, and other
harmless resources — ^the time went by less irksomely
than you might suppose, and left us nothing very
serious to complain of. Indeed, somehow or other-^in
235
236 MEAGHER OF THE SWORD
sunshine and in storm — ^running before the wind, ten
knots an hour — or rocking sluggishly in a calm — ^in all
weathers, and with every motion of our little ship, we
managed to keep alive most cheerfully, and bid de-
fiance to all the shades of Tartarus,
Occupations like these served in great measure to
relieve the monotony of our sea-life, and render it
something more than endurable. Were it not for them,
indeed, the voyage would have been most tiresome and
insipid. Except in the coasting-trade, or for an odd
cruise in the Mediterranean, I would not be a sailor
for all the world. The sameness of the life would be
my death before long. "As to the sea," observed
Mr. Solomon Gills to his nephew, " that's well enough
in fiction, Wally, but it don't do in fact : it won't
do at all."
With regard to our accommodations on board,
nothing could have been better. We had an excellent
saloon, in which we breakfasted, dined, took tea, read,
wrote, and got through a variety of other agreeable
pursuits. Our berths ran along two sides of it, and
were shut off from the saloon by means of sliding-doors
and panellings of open work.
The regulations laid down for our observance were
but few, and far from being strict.
In the first place, we were forbidden to have any
intercourse with the ship's company, save and except
with the captain and the surgeon. In the next -place,
only two of us, at a time, were permitted to be on
deck together. At nine o'clock, p.m., we were obliged
to retire to our berths ; at which hour the sergeant of
marines extinguished the lamp in the saloon, saw that
we were all safe and four in number, then locked the
door of the saloon on the outside, and reporting " All
THE PENAL VOYAGE 237
right/' delivered the key to the captain. Outside of
our quarters, a marine was stationed, night and day,
whose duty it was to report our presence every four
hours, and cut off all communication between the
aforesaid quarters and the rest of the lower deck.
Another marine was appointed to wait on us, and
perform a variety of domestic duties ; so that, in a
peculiar way, and to a certain extent, he became a
modern edition of Proteus ; assuming different cha-
racters, presenting various appearances, and exhibiting
divers accomplishments and faculties in the course of
every four-and-twenty hours ; passing, with eistonishing
facility through the most startling transitions — ^from
cook to butler, and from butler to chambermaid. He
was an honest, active, respectable, good man, and his
name was Spriggs.
As for the Swift herself — she was a sprightly, hand-
some, little brig — as steady as a rock, but as graceful
as a swan. I wish you could have seen her in a storm :
at no other time did she look to such advantage. With
a broken, scowling sky above her, and a broken, scowling
sea beneath, she gallantly dashed on. Glancing down
the steepest valleys, she seemed to gather fresh force
and daring from the steepness of the fall ; then breasting
the highest waves, she would top them with a bound, and
flinging their white crests in sparkling atoms, right and
left before her, spring further on — her beautiful light
spars quivering like lances in the gale.
As for the officers, they were fine, generous, gallant
fellows. Owing to the restrictions imposed by the
Home Office, our intercourse with them, as you may
easily suppose, was extremely limited ; but, limited
as it was, we soon were led to conceive the truest esteem
for them. England may well feel proud as long as she
238 MEAGHER OF THE SWORD
has such brave, upright, noble hearts to serve her.
Their frank, generous, warm nature — ^their manly,
gallant bearing — form a striking contrast, indeed, to
the cold, cramped rigidity of some of the officials here.
The captain was a most courteous, gentle, amiable,
good man ; strict, to be sure, in carrying out, in our
regard, the instructions he had received ; but never,
in the slightest degree, inquisitive, exacting, or officious.
Far from it. Wherever it was in his power to be so —
wherever his instructions left him to his own discretion
— ^we found him always willing and anxious to grant
us any little indulgence we asked for. I do not think
that a better man could have been selected to discharge
the painful duty with which he was entrusted.
Very probably, you may have heard, long before this,
that we were not permitted to remain more than a
few hours at the Cape. On the evening of Wednesday,
September nth, between seven and eight o'clock, we
dropped anchor in Simon's Bay ; but had hardly
done so, when orders came from Commodore Wyvil,
the officer in command of the station, directing us to
be off about our business next day, at twelve o'clock
precisely ; and, furthermore, prohibiting the slightest
communication between the Swift and the shores.
These orders were issued in consequence of the storm
which was raging at Cape Town, and which threatened
to sweep Sir Harry Smith, his government and house-
hold, mounted riflemen and all, right into the sea,
should any convict, political or otherwise, be permitted
to set foot within the immaculate territory of the
Hottentot and Boer. The result of which, so far as
we were concerned, was simply this, that, next day,
precisely at twelve o'clock, we were running out to
sea again, in a very disconsolate condition, indeed ;
having a very scanty supply of fresh provisions on
THE PENAL VOYAGE 239
board, and ten weeks' accumulation of soiled linen in
our poitmanteaus and bags.
From that day, September 12th, until Saturday,
October 27tli, we saw no land ; not so much as would
sod a lark, as they say at home. It is true, we should,
by right, have passed between St. Paul's and Amster-
dam, two volcanic islands, inhabited by wild goats
and pigs, lying midway between the Cape and Van
Diemen's Land, and included in the dependencies of
the Mauritius. The gale, however, which took us out
from Simon's Bay, bore us so far astray from the
direct course that we were obliged to leave the more
southerly of these islands sixty miles to the north.
Well, so much for the Swift, and our voyage out ; of
which, as you cannot help remarking, I have said
little. It would, however, have been difficult for me
to have said much more. One day's sailing is just the
same as a three months' voyage, and from a sketch of
one an excellent outline of the other may be easily
conceived. Breakfast — ^tea, without milk, dry biscuit,
and brown sugar ; dinner — salt-beef, preserved potatoes,
bottled porter, a joint of mutton, perhaps, and a bowl
of pea-soup ; shifting of sails — yarn-spinning, rope-
splicing, hands-to-quarters, hammock-scrubbing, sing-
ing, drumming, dancing, fifing at the forecastle ; the
first watch, lights extinguished — there's a complete
history of a voyage round the world ! so far, at all
events, as my experience enables me to decide.
But, for all the dreariness of those six weeks, in our
passage up the Derwent we enjoyed a delightful com-
pensation. Nothing I have seen in other countries —
not even in my own — equals the beauty, the glory, of
the scenery through which we glided up from Tasman's
Head to Hobart Town.
To the left were bold cliffs, conipact and straight-
240 MEAGHER OF THE SWORD
built as the finest masonry, springing up, full two
hundred feet and more, above the surface of the water,
and bearing on their broad and level summits the
forests of the gum-trees. To the right, eight miles
away, lay the green lowlands of Tasman's Peninsula,
sparkling in the clear, sweet sunshine of that lovely
evening.
Then, as the little ship glanced quietly and gracefully
along, a signal-tower, with the red flag floating from it,
appeared in an open space among the trees. Still
further on, a farmhouse, with its white walls and green
verandah shone out from some cleft or valley close at
hand ; and the fresh, rich fragrance of flowers, and
ripening fruits, and waving grass, came floating to us
through the blue, bright air. By-and-bye, the trees
became more scarce, and handsome houses rose up in
quick succession, and, forming into graceful terraces,
told us, by many a sign of life and comfort, that the
town was near at hand, and that we should be soon at
rest. Last of all. Mount Wellington, a majestic
mountain, towering to the height of four thousand
feet behind the town, and wearing a thin circlet of snow
upon its head, disclosed itself in all its greatness,
grandeur and solemnity.
These were the principal features of the scenery —
the beautiful, glorious scenery — ^within the shade of
which we passed up to Hobart Town. You can easily
imagine the delight they inspired, and the influence
they had upon us. Gazing at them, we lost sight of
our misfortunes, and the dull, cold destiny which at
that moment, like the deepening twilight, fell upon our
path. Gazing at them, we forgot for the while we were
prisoners, destined for life to sojourn in a land in the
growth of which we could take no interest — ^the
prosperity of which would claim from us no proud
THE PENAL VOYAGE 241
congratulation — ^the glory of which could never stir
within our hearts one glad emotion, nor win from our
lip or hand the faintest recognition.
It was nearly nine o'clock when we cast anchor.
The night had fallen, and all we could see of Hobart
Town were the lamplights — ^up there, a lonely couple —
down there, a misty group — along there, a twinkling
line — ^beyond there, an odd one, flickering like a candle
in a wine-vault, and doing its best to keep in.
Through the darkness, however, there came a variety
of sounds. Now, the clatter of a bell ; a moment after,
a voice exclaiming, " Peter, where are you ? " then a
chorus of loud laughs, shrill whistlings, and the cracking
of whips ; all round us, the soft sighs and murmurings of
the river, the creaking of cordage, the dip and splash
of oars ; by-and-bye, the bugle-call, filling the 9alm
night with clear, strong notes, and the crashing of the
drums in the barrack-square.
Next morning, when we went on deck? the stin was
shining warmly ; and in its soft radiance, the town,
the noble mountain close behind it, the ships and boats,
the trees, the gardens, cottages and villas all about,
looked charming in the extreme. It was a beautiful,
bold picture ; and, it being Simday, there seemed to
be a sweet tranquillity diffused all through it, which
rendered it still more enchanting.
For a good part of the day, we amused ourselves
with the glasses, making the most minute observations,
and curiously inspecting every object within sight.
Horses, cabs, policemen, bonnets, soldiers, sign-boards,
sailors, warehouses, chimney-tops, street-door knockers,
wheel-barrows, church spires, flower-pots — ^nothing was
omitted in our search. The smallest trifle became the
subject of the deepest interest ; and even the poor dog
we caught playing amongst the bales and baulks, the
16
242 MEAGHER OF THE SWORD
casks and spars, upon the wharf in front of us, was
followed through all his windings, tumblings, twists,
and twirls, with the keenest curiosity.
The whole of this day, we had the Swiff, I may say,
to ourselves ; most of the officers, and, towards evening,
most of the men, being ashore, enjoying themselves in
every direction ; as well they might, poor fellows !
after their four months' weary work.
Of course, no communication of an official nature was
made to us this day. The following morning, however,
the Assistant-Comptroller, accompanied by a clerk,
arrived in a whale-boat, and shortly after their arrival,
we were requested to attend the captain in our saloon.
Here we found the fashionable arrivals ; and, as an
indispensable part of the lugubrious ceremony of
transportation, we were introduced to them in due
rotation by Captain Aldham. Whereupon the chairs
were taken, and Mr. Nairn, the Assistcint-Comptroller,
in a smooth, neat speech, opened the proceedings.
First of all, he disengaged a yard or so of thin red
tape from a bundle of long, thick wove, blue paper ;
and in so doing exhibited an easy dexterity of finger,
and a deep-water placidity of look. Having separated
the papers, and placed them in a line along the table,
one after the other, just as if he were arranging a set of
dominoes, he gently fixed his elbows upon the docu-
ments, and joining his hands in a meek and devotional
manner before him, begged leave to observe : —
" That he was directed by his Excellency, Sir William
Denison, to communicate with William Smith O'Brien,
Thomas Francis Meagher, Terence Bellew M'Manus,
and Patrick O'Donoghue, prisoners of State on board
her Majesty's sloop-of-war, the Swift. The object of
his visit was to inform the aforesaid prisoners, that
Sir William Denison had received certain instructions
THE PENAL VOYAGE 243
relative to them from the Secretary of State for the
Home Department ; that, by these instructions, Sir
William Denison was authorised to grant ' tickets-of-
leave ' to each and aU the aforesaid prisoners, pro-
vided that, in the first place, the Captain under whose
charge they had been during the voyage was enabled
to speak favourably of their conduct, ^d that, in the
second place, they pledged their honour to not make
use of the comparative liberty which ' tickets-of-leave '
conferred, for the purpose of escaping from the colony."
Mr. Nairn begged leave to add : —
" He was happy to inform us, that Captain Aldham
had reported favourably of our conduct, and, such
being the case, it only remained for him now to receive
our parole not to attempt an escape from the colony."
This speech being ended, a profound silence ensued,
during which the Assistant-Comptroller delicately
fiddled with his documents, and glided off into a serene
abstraction.
I never met, in gaol or in courthouse, in the Queen's
Bench or the Henry Street Police Office^, so sleek, so
tranquil, so elaborate an official. His motions were
most delicately adjusted, even to the opening of an
eye-lid, or the removal from his forehead of a fly.
His voice flowed richly and softly from his hps,
like a glass of Cura^oa into an India-rubber flask.
His fingers appeared to have been formed for the
express purpose of writing with the finest steel pen,
pressing the clearest-cut official seal, and measuring
out, for despatches on the public service, the neatest
and narrowest red tape. The knot of his neck-tie was
an epitome of the man. It struck one as having been
put on by means of the most minute and exquisite
machinery. To have accomplished such a knot by
^A Police Court existed in Henry Street, Dublin, in 1848.
244 MEAGHER OF THE SWORD
the aid of manual labour seemed at first sight im-
possible.
The silence was broken by O'Brien, who begged to
state that he, for one, was not prepared to accept a
" ticket-of-leave " on the conditions specified by the
Assistant-Comptroller ; he certainly had little or no
intention of escaping, but felt strongly disinclined to
pledge his word to the observance of an arrangement
which would preclude his availing himself of any
opportunity to escape that might occur hereafter.
I took a different view of the matter. It appeared
to me that, whether we pledged our honour to the
fulfilment of the conditions proposed by the Govern-
ment or withheld it, an escape was out of the question.
In the former case, our parole, of course, would bind
us more firmly than the heaviest irons to the island.
In the latter case, it was clear, the authorities would
adopt such measures as to render it absolutely im-
practicable. It seemed to me, then, that the point
at issue resolved itself simply into a choice between
two evils. Our detention, in either case, being certain,
I thought it much more desirable to accept a small
amount of liberty, fettered only by my word of honour,
than surrender myself to the confinement of a prison,
and the vexatious surveillance" of turnkeys and con-
stables.
Moreover, the condition annexed to our holding
" tickets-of -leave " appeared to me a fair and an
honourable one ; it exacted no compromise of conduct
or opinion ; exacted no hypocrisy, no submission ; it
simply required of us not to make use of certain privileges
for the purpose of effecting an escape ; and going thus
far, and no farther, I felt convinced, that in pledging
myself to the fulfilment of it, I would do no unworthy
act. In other countries, better and nobler men have
THE PENAL VOYAGE 245
not hesitated, as pnsoners-of-war, to accept and fulfil
a similar condition.
O'Donoghue and M'Manus took the same view, and
we three, consequently, agreed to pledge ourselves to
remain in the colony so long as we retained the " ticket-
of-leave."
Having come to this determination, the Assistant-
Comptroller requested us to put our opinions in writing,
in the shape of letters addressed to him. " It would
be his duty," he observed, in conclusion, " to lay them
before Sir William Denison, and receive his Excellency's
reply in reference to them."
I accepted the " ticket-of-leave," on the condition
proposed to us, for six months only. I was unwilling
to pledge myself for an indefinite period ; so that, at
the expiration of the six months, I would be at hberty
to surrender myself as a prisoner, or renew the contract.
M'Manus and O'Donoghue wrote letters to the same
effect.
Two hours later, Mr. Nairn returned, and informed
us that his Excellency had been pleased to grant
" tickets-of -leave " on the condition hereinbefore
specified to Thomas Francis Meagher, Terence Bellew
M'Manus, and Patrick O'Donoghue ; that the official
papers Authorising this arrangement would be sent on
board next day ; and that William Smith O'Brien was
to be sent to the probation-station of Maria Island,
and be there detained, in strict custody, during the
pleasure of his Excellency.
Having made this announcement, the Assistant-
Comptroller drew in his lips, economised a smile,
slightly bowed, and, drawing back his hat as he inclined
his head, withdrew.
Hardly had he disappeared, when another official
came on board, and solicited the pleasure of our com-
246 MEAGHER OF THE SWORD
pany. This gentleman was no less a personage than the
Assistant-Registrar, and his business was to take an
inventory of our respective heights, ages, pursuits, and
families ; also, the shape of our noses, the complexion
of our cheeks, the colour of our eyes and hair, the
character of our chins, and our general appearance as
human beings. " A delicate, a very delicate business,"
he whispered to me as I entered, " and one, which,
considering our position in society, he wished to get
through as delicately as possible."
Whereupon he begged of me to see that the door was
shut, and in a very mild manner — the mildest manner
possible — commenced his observations. One would
have thought we were made of down or gossamer, he
looked so gently at us ; and then he noted down the
results of his inspection so softly, that one might have
also imagined he wrote upon velvet. While this was
going on, I could not help remarking to O'Donoghue
that it forcibly reminded me of Mr. Pickwick's intro-
duction to the Fleet, and the bewilderment with which
he sat in the armchair whilst his portrait was
taken.
The likeness finished, the Assistant-Registrar shut
up his portfolio, expressed his regret at having troubled
us so much, and backing to the door with two or three
scrapes — expressive, no doubt, of high consideration
and esteem — ^betook himself to the wharf, and from
thence to his office, there to make out and distribute
copies of the performance he had so nimbly and ex-
peditiously completed.
The rest of the evening we had to ourselves. And a
lovely evening it was. There we were, pacing the
quarter-deck, disconsolately gazing at the poor little
Swift, which had been unrigged and dismantled in the
morning, and now lay like a mournful wreck upon the
THE PENAL VOYAGE 247
breast of the calm and noble river. Oftentimes we
looked out far ahead, watching every sail that made
up towards us, for the news had just reached us that
the Emma, from Sydney, with O'Doherty and Martin
on board, was hourly expected. At other times we
turned our eyes to the shore, and found, in the passing
to-and-fro of sailors, cabs, and waggon-loads, and a
hundred other things, a pleasant relief from the monotony
of our wooden walls.
The following day we received our instructions. I
was directed to proceed next morning at half-past
three o'clock, by coach, to Campbell Town — the princi-
pal town of the district which had been assigned me.
M'Manus was to start at a later hour for New Norfolk.
O'Donoghue was to leave in the course of the day, and
take up his quarters in Hobart Town. O'Brien was to
be ready to sail for Maria Island by seven o'clock.
This was Tuesday, the 30th of October. After night-
fall, just as we had retired to our berths, the Emma
dropped up the river and cast anchor close beside us.
Next morning at three o'clock, the guard-boat came
alongside the Swift ; and having wished good-bye to
O'Brien, M'Manus, O'Donoghue, and the officer on
watch, I got into it, and was soon on dry land once
more. I arrived at the hotel as the coach was on the
point of starting, and five minutes after was rattled
away at a magnificent pace from the town ; of which,
owing to the darkness at the time, I saw little more
than half-a-dozen lamplights, two or three constables,
and the sentry-box of the Government House.
As the morning dawned, the fresh and beautiful
features of the country gradually disclosed themselves.
One by one they seemed to wake up, and, shaking off
the dew and mist, scatter smiles and fragrance all
along our road. There was the river, breaking into
248 MEAGHER OF THE SWORD
sparkling life, and flowing cheerfully away, as if it had
been pent up and worried all the night, and was glad to
feel the warm sun once more. There were farm-houses,
cozy hay-ricks close behind them, and fowls spreading
out their wings, and, with many a light and nimble
effort, shaking off their drowsiness. There was the
green corn waving, and the grey clouds melting in the
silver sunshine along the hills before us. There were
handsome villas next, like those we had seen coming
up the Derwent, with their gardens and verandahs,
and the blue smoke rising from their chimney tops.
There was, by-and-bye, a waggon, painted blue and
red, with its ponderous market-load, its fine team of
horses, and a large white dog chained to the axle-tree
of the hind wheels, rumbling past us, and leaving, in
the yellow dust, broad deep tracks, and straws behind
it. There was, just a few yards ahead, a clean white
turnpike, and the keeper tumbling out to open it, with
his woollen nightcap on, and his braces clattering at
his heels. Then came carts, and cows, and shepherds,
with their kangcuroo-skin knapsacks on their backs,
and the night-coach, with the windows up, and a thick
steam upon them, hindering the faintest sight of the
cramped and stifled passengers within. At last, there
was the heart of the country itself, with its beautiful
hills, rising in long and shadowy tiers one above the
other, and the brown foliage of its woods, and the
blackened stumps of many a tough old tree, and mobs
upon mobs of sheep, and the green parrots, and the
wattle birds, and broad lagoons, and broader plains,
and ten thousand things besides I
For a long, long time I was in raptures with my
drive, and almost forgot I was hurrying away still
further from my own poor cotmtry, and journeying amid
the scenes of a land in the fate of which I coulcj take
THE PENAL VOYAGE 249
no interest — for the glory of which I could breathe no
prayer.
About three o'clock I arrived in Campbell Town, and
was set down at the hotel " where the coach dined,"
along with my portmanteau and hat-case. After dinner,
I strolled out to inspect the institutions of the place,
and make myself acquainted in a general way, with its
various attractions and resources.
Twenty minutes rendered me fully conversant with
the subject of my inquiry. A glance, indeed, was suffi-
cient to inform me that this celebrated town consisted
of one main street, with two or three dusty branches to
the left ; and, at right angles with these, a sort of
boulevard, in which the police-office, the lock-up and
the stocks are conveniently arranged.
The main street has one side to it only. The ribs of
this side consist of four hotels ; a warehouse ; a board-
and-lodging house, with Napoleon upon a green lamp,
just as you go in ; half-a-dozen private residences,
furnished with a ground floor and a back and front
entrance ; a jeweller's shop ; butcher's stall ; a sign
post ; and two sheds. Opposite to this line of edifices,
and parallel with it, at an interval of fifty feet, runs a
wooden paling, which, mid-way up the town, is broken
by three cottages, a hay rick and the post-office. Aloof,
at the uttermost extremity in a straight line with the
paling at the post-office and the hay rick, stands the
Established Church — a gaunt structure, compiled of
bricks, with facing of white stone.
Having seen so much, I thought I might as well go
to bed. To bed, then, I went, and dreamed all night
of Eden. Not the Eden of the Scriptures, but that
social and stirring Eden so agreeably described in the
history of " Chuzzlewit."
Three days having elapsed, I woke up, gave a great
250 MEAGHER OF THE SWORD
yavm, and drove off to Ross — a little apology of a town,
seven miles nearer than Campbell Town to the seat of
Government.
The visit I paid it, short as it was, convinced me that
Ross was a far more preferable place to take up my
quarters in than Campbell Town ; the latter place
has too much of the vulgar, upstart village in it ; con-
tains too much glare, dust, and gossip, and it would be
hard, I think, to do anything else than yawn, catch
flies, and star-gaze in it. Here one can be more to
himself ; therefore, more free ; consequently, more
happy.
To Ross, then, I removed in all haste, and lost no
time in looking out for a little cottage, or half a one, if
a whole one was impracticable.
I was not long in fixing upon the one in which I now
write this letter. The appearance of it was most pre-
possessing and the interior arrangements singularly
inviting. Just fancy a little lodge, built from head to
foot with bright red bricks ; two flower-beds, and a
neat railing in front ; a laburnum bush in each bed ; a
clean smooth flagway, eighteen inches across, from the
outer gate to the halldoor ; two stone steps to the
latter ; a window, containing eight panes of green glass,
on each side of the same ; and then, four rooms inside,
each fourteen feet by twelve, and an oven in the kitchen ;
just fancy all this, and you will have a pretty correct
picture of the establishment in which, with a domestic
servant of all work, and a legion of flies, I have now the
happiness to reside.
At first, I had only the two front rooms. At present
I have the whole house to myself, and the use of a
cultivated plot of ground in the rear, where a select
circle of cabbages, a few sprigs of parsley, a score of
onions, and a stone of potatoes, with a thistle or two.
THE PENAL VOYAGE 251
get on very well together, and have no one to touch
them.
My landlady is a devout Wesleyan, an amiable
female of stupendous proportions, and proportionate
loquacity — her husband is a Wesleyan too, a shoe-
maker by trade, and a spectre in appearance ; so much
so, indeed, that the wife may be styled, with the
strictest geometrical propriety, his " better half " and
three-quarters. Upon coming to terms with them in
the first instance — ^that is, when I had the two front
rooms, and they the two back ones — an agreeable
dialogue took place, of which the following may be
considered a fair report : —
" Sir," said Mrs. Anderson, sticking a pin into the
sleeve of her gown, and spreading down her apron
before her.
" Well, ma'am," said I.
" Why, sir," says she. " You see as how it is, me
and my husband be Wesleyans, and we don't like
a-cooking on Sundays, and so if it don't matter to
you, sir, we'd a soon not dress you any meat a that
day, for we're commanded to rest and do no work
upon the Sabbath, and that you see, sir, is just how it is."
" As to that," I replied, " I don't much mind having
a cold dinner upon Sundays, but then, there are the
potatoes ! Potatoes, you know, Mrs. Anderson, are
very insipid when cold."
This was a difficulty of great magnitude. Mrs,
Anderson paused, and swelled up immensely. When
the swelling subsided a little, she cast an inquiring
glance at her husband, as if to implore him for a text,
a note or a comment, to help her out of a difficulty, in
which, like a sudden deluge, the conflicting ideas of a
boiled potato and the day of rest had involved her.
The glance had the desired effect. Mr. Anderson
252 MEAGHER OF THE SWORD
took off his spectacles, held them with crossed hands,
reverently before him ; threw back his head ; threw
up his eyes, and fixing them intently upon a remarkable
constellation of flies, close to a bacon hook above him,
seemed to inquire from it, in the absence of the stars,
a solution of the difficulty.
A moment's consultation sufficed — a new light
descended upon Mr. Anderson, and yielding to the
inspiration of the moment, he pronounced it to be his
opinion, that a boiled potato would not break the
Sabbath,, and " in that, or any other way, he'd be
happy to serve the gen'l'm'n."
Well, in this little cottage I manage to get through
my solitary days cheerfully enough. It costs me an
effort, however, to do so ; for, I am sure, nature never
intended me for an anchorite, and often and often, I
am as companionless and desolate here as Simon
Stylites on the top of his pillar. Only one human
being, for instance, has passed by my window to-day ;
he was a pedlar, with fish and vegetables, from Laimces-
ton, and wished to know as he was passing, if I wanted
any fresh flounders for dinner.
On the whole, I must say, the Government have
acted towards us, ever since our conviction, in a fair,
mild, honourable spirit. Sending us out so many
thousand miles away from our homes and friends, to
this cheerless penal settlement, was, to be sure, a measure
of great severity ; yet, it would be hard to say they
could have done less. As a Government, holding
themselves to a very large extent responsible to the
people of England, and, for the most part, shaping
their councils and acting in accordance with the known
opinion of that people, it would have been difficult
for them to adjudge a lesser punishment to those,
against whom, in England, the public sentiment ran
THE PENAL VOYAGE ^53
so high and so determinedly. For my part, though I
feel sorely, I conceive it would be unmanly and unjust
to complain of it with bitterness. We played for a
high stake — ^the highest that could be played for ; we
lost the game by a wretched throw, and with a willing
heart and a ready hand, we ought, like honourable
men, to pay the forfeit, and say no more about it.
I write thus frankly to you, my dear Duffy, upon the
subject, for it often pained me to observe the querulous-
ness and spite with which the Government were abused
in Ireland, whenever they adopted measures to repress
the spirit which aimed and struck at their existence. A
fairer and a nobler feeling would more gratefully befit
a nation whose soul is in arms against a rule which
humbles her attitude before the world, and proscribes
her flag. Calmly to foresee, and, with patient generous
courage, to accept the sacrifices which defeat imposes —
to bear the Cross with the same loftiness of soul as she
would wear the Laurel Crown — this should be the study
and ambition of our country ; and if it were so, believe
me, her struggle would assume a grander aspect, and
excite, through the world at large, deeper and more
enduring sympathies than those which have hitherto —
in our time, at all events — attended her.
So far then, you see, I have no complaint to make
with regard to our present fate — dull and bleak, and
wearisome as it is. But, I do complain, that, having
separated us by so many thousand miles of sea, from
all that was dear, consoling, and inspiring to our hearts,
they should have increased the severity of this punish-
ment by distributing us over a strange land in which
the most gratifying friendships we could form would
compensate so poorly for the loss of the warm famiUar
companionship we so long enjoyed. There is M'Manus
away in New Norfolk, O'Donoghue in Hobart Town,
254 MEAGHER OF THE SWORD
O'Doherty in Oatlands, Martin in Bothwell, Meagher
in Campbell Town, O'Brien off there in Maria Island !
Each has a separate district, and out of that district
there is no redemption.
Now, generally speaking, a " district " is about the
size of a respectable country parish at home. Mine,
for instance, extends from thirty to thirty-five miles
in length, and varies from ten to fifteen in breadth. At
the end of a fortnight I came to the conclusion, that
between a prison and a " district " there was just
about the same difference as exists between a stable
and a paddock. In the one you are tied up by a halter
— in the other you have the swing of a tether.
Within the last five weeks, however, Martin,
O'Doherty, and I have discovered a point, common
to our three respective districts, at which, without a
breach of the regulation prohibiting any two or more
of us from residing together, we can meet from time
to time.
This fortunate point is on the edge of a noble lake,
twenty-four miles from Ross, up in a range of mountains,
known as the " Western Tier." O'Doherty has to ride
twenty miles to it, and Martin five-and-twenty. Monday
is usually our day of meeting, and eleven, or thereabouts,
the hour at which we emerge from three different
quarters of the Bush, and come upon the ground.
The point itself is a small cozy, smoky bit of a log-
hut, inhabited by a solitary gentleman named Cooper.^
The hut is fifteen feet by ten, and high enough to admit
in an upright position, of any reasonable extension of
legs, spine, hat and shirt-collar. The furniture consists
of a something to sleep on — I don't know what to call
it ; a table, very weak in the extremities ; two stools ;
a block for splitting chops upon ; a shelf, three feet in
iSee Mitchel's "Jail Journal."
THE PENAL VOYAGE 255
length, and furnished with a couple of pewter plates ;
a gunpowder flask, full of pepper ; three breakfast cups ;
a carving knife ; a breakfast knife ; forks to match ;
a tract upon Foreign Missions, and two columns of a
Sunday Observer, bearing a remote date.
Here we dine, and spend the evening up to half-past
five o'clock, when we descend the " Tier," and betake
ourselves to our respective homes. Whilst the prepara-
tions for the dinner are going on — ^whilst Mr. Cooper
is splitting chops, shelling peas, washing onions, and
melting himself away in a variety of labours by the
log-wood fire — ^we are rambling along the shores of
the lake, talking of old times, singing the old songs,
weaving fresh hopes among the old ones that have
ceased to bloom.
You cannot picture to yourself the happiness which
the days we have spent by that lonely, glorious lake
have brought us. They have been summer days, all
of them ; and through the sunshine have floated the
many-coloured memories, the red griefs, the golden
hopes of our sad, beautiful old country.
Oh ! should hearts grow faint at home, and, in the
cold, dark current of despair, or grief, fling down the
hope they once waved, like a sacred torch, on high ;
tell them that here, in this strange land, and in the
loneliest haunts and pathways of it — here, by the
shores of a lake, where as yet no sail has sparkled, and
few sounds of human life as yet have scared the wild
swan or startled the black snake from its nest — ^tell
them that here, upon a lone, lone spot in the far Southern
Seas, there are prayers, full of confidence, and faith,
and love, offered up for Ireland's cause ; and that the
belief in her redemption and her glory has accom-
panied her sons to their place of exile, and there, like
some beautiful and holy charm, abides with them ;
256 MEAGHER OF THE SWORD
filling the days of their humble solitude with calm light
and joyous melodies and visions of serene and radiant
loveliness.
Previous to the discovery of this celebrated point — a
point, by-'the-bye, which would have done credit to the
ingenuity of Sir Colman O'Loghlen — O'Doherty and
I used to meet at another place.
His district adjoins mine, about seven miles from
Ross, at a convict station called Tunbridge. A river,
known by the name of the " Blackman's," forms the
boundary of the two districts at this point, and over it,
close to the convict station, a pretty bridge has been
lately built.
One half of the Blackman's being in the Campbell
Town district, and the other half belonging to that of
Oatlands, the middle pier of the bridge in question
was, of course, our point of contact ; and here, conse-
quently, we " hung out " four or five Mondays suc-
cessively, and spent a few hours with the utmost
hilarity. At our second interview, we christened the
point of jimction. The ceremony, as you may well
suppose, was divested of all solemnity ; but, in a
very copious libation, we toasted " The Irish Pier ! "
enthusiastically receiving from each other the highly
constitutional sentiment that the Peerage of the
Blackman's might long continue to resist the current
which opposed it, and, standing erect amid the worst
of storms, guarantee to us, for many days to come, the
right of public meeting !
A few hundred yards above the bridge, on
O'Doherty' s side of the river, there happens to be an
inn. This inn is built of timber, and washed over with
a pale salmon colour. It is a very, very old establish-
ment indeed ; and with all the scars and bruises left
by a long life-struggle exhibits, likewise, all the cranki-
THE PENAL VOYAGE 257
ness and extreme debility of age. When the slightest
breeze comes by it, whines, and groans, and growls,
in the most dismal manner ; and rattling the windows,
as if they were so many teeth set loosely in it? aching
head, shakes from head to foot, and threatens to wind-
up and settle its last account at once.
Old, weak, infirm as it is — spite of all its ailments — a
portion of sound life remains within it still ; and with
that residue of life, many good qualities to recommend
it to the public favour. On our several days of meeting
it furnished us, for instance, with first-rate dinners.
To be sure, the passage through the air, for upwards of
five hundred yards or so, condensed the steam of the
potatoes, and soHdified the gravy somewhat ; but the
old salmon-coloured inn was not to blame for that. In
all these cases, the Home Office spoiled the cooking.
One very hot day — ^the bed of the river being almost
quite dry — ^we dined under the bridge ; having, first
of all, erected something like a Druid's altar, on the
top of which we laid the cloth. The seats were con-
structed much after the same fashion ; and, the hamper
which brought the ale, the plates, and cheese, being
emptied, kicked over, and turned up-side-down, served
in the capacity of a very respectable dumb waiter.
So much then, for O'Doherty and Martin, both of
whom are in excellent health. Now for the rest.
M'Manus, as I have already mentioned, is in New
Norfolk, and, in consequence of his not having been
able to start any business there, employs himself from
morning till night, shooting, fishing, and riding. You
will be delighted to hear he is as stout as ever, and
though he has little or no society, his spirits appear to
have lost not a particle of their vivacity and heartiness.
O'Donoghue was permitted to remain in Hobart
Town in consequence of his having represented to Sir
17
258 MEAGHER OF THE SWORD
William Denison that unless he was permitted to stay
there he would find it impossible to support himself —
his livelihood being dependent upon his professional
labours exclusively.
At first he had hopes of getting into some barrister's
or solicitor's office, but there was no opening for him ;
and so, as a last resource, and with the view of realising
an honest maintenance, he started a weekly newspaper,
a few weeks ago. It is called the Irish Exile, and,
from all I hear, appears to be succeeding extremely
well.
When he first thought of it, Martin and I tried to
dissuade him from the project. Martin urged several
objections to it, I believe ; and I gave it as my opinion
that whilst we were in such a colony as Van Diemen's
Land, we ought not to mix in politics. Standing aloof
from them in such a place I conceived would be the
most dignified line of conduct we could pursue ; and
if it would not promote, would at all events protect
from mockery and slander the cause of our Native Land.
There are no sympathies here to which one could
appeal in behalf of the Irish nation. I do not mean to
say there are no kind, generous, gallant hearts to be
found in this colony. Far from it. Of such hearts —
and they are EngUsh, too — I have felt the warm throb.
But these are few, indeed ; and in a community, three-
fourths of which consist of convicts and officials, their
influence would be completely lost. Before the leering
eyes of such a community I would rather die than
unveil the bleeding figure of our poor country, and for
her wounds and agonies beseech a single tear.
Strongly influenced by this feeling, I urged O'Donoghue
not to go on with the Exile. In replying to my letter
— as also in replying to Martin's — he admitted, almost
fully, the justness and propriety of our objections, but
THE PENAL VOYAGE 259
still maintained that since there was only this one
channel open to him for the realisation of an honourable
livelihood, he was bound to avail himself of it, regard-
less of all other considerations. Well, this was a view
of the matter which could not be effectually opposed,
which could not certainly be opposed with any degree
of delicacy or kindness. I therefore wish O'Donoghue
the best success, and will use my utmost influence to
procure him subscribers.
Further than this, however, I feel the deepest re-
pugnance to act in support of his paper. I cannot
bring myself to write a word for a public amongst
whom, if it were in my power to leave this evening, I
would not remain another day. And most painfully
does this repugnance act upon my heart, for it would
delight me to assist O'Donoghue, and, by ever so slight
an effort, conduce to the success of his fair and manly
enterprise. Martin, however, is contributing a series
of papers upon the Repeal movement.
Having written thus far upon the subject of our
engaging in colonial politics, it is unnecessary for me
to contradict the report which appeared in one of the
South Australasian papers — the absurd report, that I
had assumed the management of one of the Catholic
colonial journals ! I did not trouble myself to contra-
dict it here, being perfectly indifferent what became of
it at this side of the Equator, whether it sank or floated,
having made up my mind to be quite composed, and,
in either case, to repress the slightest emotion.
But I did feel uneasy lest it might be believed in
Ireland. Not that I consider it would be in any degree
discreditable to assume the management of such a
paper ; but I feel it would be somewhat unworthy of
me. Unworthy, for in this case I should have to turn
my thoughts from Ireland, and devote them to a
26o MEAGHER OF THE SWORD
subject, or rather, to a number of subjects, none of
which could interest me hke the former ; and in dealing
with which, I could work, I am sure, with no greater
heart than a dull, plodding, fagged mechanic. Be
assured of it, I shall never tie myself down to such a
tame, insipid business.
For Ireland alone — for the liberty she has prayed,
and struck, and bled for, year after year — for the
glory which in many a bright creation of her genius
she has seen, and sung, and prophesied — ^for this alone
wiU I write, and speak, and act. In the morning of
my life, whatever gifts of mind and heart Heaven had
blest me with I dedicated to this beautiful, righteous,
noble service ; and in this service, until death leads
me to another world, they shall faithfully abide.
In consequence of O'Brien refusing to pledge his
word not to escape, the " ticket-of-leave," as I have
already mentioned, was withheld from him ; and he
was conveyed to Maria Island, there to remain in close
confinement during the pleasure of his Excellency, Sir
William Denison. The restrictions imposed upon him
were most stringent and severe. More than this — ^they
were cruel to an excess.
He was confined to a little cottage, and suffered to
take no exercise beyond that which a miserable plot
of ground attached to this cottage, would permit. He
was denied the use of a servant, had to light his own
fire, make his own bed, and perform every other menial
duty that was necessary. He was denied all inter-
course, forbidden to exchange a word with any person
on the island, save and except the Protestant chaplain.
He was dogged, night and day by constables, who had
to report his presence, every four hours, to the Super-
intendent of the Station. He was denied permission
to receive a few little luxuries, in the way of sugar.
THE PENAL VOYAGE 261
rice, and raisins, which he had requested a gentleman
in Hobart Town to forward to him. In a word, he
was detained imder these and other restrictions, he
was obUged to submit to these and other privations,
until, at last, his health gave way, and the medical
officer of the station pronounced it no longer safe to
enforce the discipline to which he had been subjected.
On January i6th, I received from our dear and
noble friend, a letter, from which I give you the
following extract : —
" A new phase has occurred in the arrangements
adopted with respect to me. The doctor of the Station
(Doctor Smart) having reported that my health was
giving way under the system prescribed by Dr. Hampton,
I was allowed yesterday to take a little exercise, attended
by a keeper. Until I had an opportunity of testing
my powers, I had no idea how much my strength had
been reduced. I am now convinced that, had no
change taken place. Sir William Denison would have
had very little trouble with his prisoner at the expiration
of another fortnight. Hereafter these proceedings may
become a subject of inquiry, and, in case I should be
prematurely extinguished, it will be right to inquire,
whether Dr. Dawson, the principal medical officer of
the colony, did, or did not, after his visit to this island,
represent to the Governor and to Dr. Hampton, the
Comptroller-General, that the course of treatment
adopted towards me would most probably be injurious
to my health."
Upon receipt of this I felt bound to bring the state-
ment it contained under the notice of the local govern-
ment; and if that did not produce any desirable
resialt, to lay the matter before the public, through the
colonial papers.
Fortunately, the very day I received it, I met
262 MEAGHER OF THE SWORD
O'Doherty and Martin at the lakes, and had the
advantage of their advice. It was agreed, then, I
should write a respectful remonstrance to Sir William
Denison, stating the facts I had heard with regard to
O'Brien's health, and praying for such alterations in
the treatment adopted towards him as would avert
the fatal consequences it was bringing on. In case no
alteration took place, it was further agreed upon,
we should throw up our " tickets-of -leave," and no
longer bind ourselves, by any honourable engagement,
to a Government that could act in so unmanly and
cruel a manner.
In consequence of this arrangement, I wrote the
following letter : —
" Hope's Hotel, Ross, Jan. 17, 1850.
" May it please Your Excellency.
" Sir, — I feel called upon to inform you respectfully,
that I have received a letter, dated January nth, from
Mr. Smith O'Brien ; who, as your Excellency must be
aware, is at present under close confinement in the
probation station of Maria Island.
" In this letter Mr. O'Brien mentions, that, in conse-
quence of the restrictions which have been imposed
upon him, and the privations to which he is subjected,
his strength has been greatly weakened, and his health
in general very seriously impaired.
" From what I know of Mr. O'Brien — and I have
the honour and the happiness to know him well — I feel
convinced that the treatment in force against him must
have produced very injurious effects, indeed, to induce
the avowal he has made, and which — ^whatever be his
wishes to the contrary — I conceive it my duty to lay
before your Excellency.
THE PENAL VOYAGE 263
" I write without having ascertained the feelings of
Mr. O'Brien with regard to the step I now take ; I
write, indeed, with the conviction, that, had he been
apprised of my intention in this respect, he would have
condemned it strongly, and have urged me to renounce
it. There are times, however, when friendship is best
evinced in disobedience to the wishes of those for whose
health and happiness one has been led to cherish an
anxious and a deep desire.
" For my part, I could have no peace, no enjoyment,
no repose — a thorn would rankle in my heart, and
excite within me the most painful emotions — were I
to be silent in this matter.
" With these sentiments, I respectfully, but urgently
entreat, that your Excellency will be pleased to institute
an inquiry into the treatment pursued towards Mr.
Smith O'Brien, and the state to which, in consequence
of tliis treatment, his health has been reduced.
" I am assured that, upon ascertaining the truth of
the statement I have now put forth, your Excellency,
influenced by a sense of common justice and humanity,
will direct such relaxations to be made in the discipline
to which he is subject as will restore the health, and
guarantee the life of my pure-hearted and noble-
minded friend.
" I have the honour to be,
" Your Excellency's obedient servant,
" Thomas Francis Meagher.
" To his Excellency, Sir W. Denison, Knt.,
Lieut.-Governor of Van Diemen's Land,
etc., etc., etc."
To this communication I received the following note,
from the Office of the Convict Department :—
264 MEAGHER OF THE SWORD
" The Comptroller-General has been directed to ac-
knowledge the receipt of the communication addressed
to the Lieutenant-Governor, by Thomas Francis
Meagher, dated the 17th ult."
The envelope of this note measured eight inches in
length, and on the back exhibited a plaster of red wax,
pretty nearly as broad as the seal on the mouth of a
bottle of anchovies. This elegant adhesion bears some
elaborate device, which, as yet, I have not had sufficient
leisure to examine.
On the other side, I found the subjoined inscription :
" On Public Service only.
" Thomas Francis Meagher,
" Hope's Hotel,
" Ross.
" Convict Department, 22nd January, 1850."
The information it contained, you will admit, was not
very satisfactory ; limited, as it was, to the simple
announcement that my letter had arrived safe. The
morning it arrived, however, I received a letter from a
friend of mine, assuring me that the treatment I had
complained of had been considerably modified. Four
or five days subsequently, I received one from O'Brien
himself, from which I make an extract or two ; for, I
am sure, they will afford you greater satisfaction than
any statement, borrowed from them, of my own : —
" I am happy to be able to relieve your anxiety
with respect to my health, by assuring you that I have
felt better to-day than upon any day for several weeks,
and that I have every reason to believe I shall soon be
in a condition to undergo another of Dr. Hampton's
experiments upon the strength of my constitution.
THE PENAL VOYAGE 265
" My letter to you of the nth was written under
the impulse of vehement indignation, excited by the
discovery that I had been very much enfeebled by
confinement and solitude. When first I was shut up
in solitary confinement, after Dr. Hampton's visit to
this island, I could not help feeling that, in the case of
nineteen men out of twenty, a strict enforcement of
his regulations would destroy reason or life ; but still I
was in hopes that I should be able to bear it without
injury, as my constitution is naturally a very strong
one. I found, however, that after I had been in con-
finement for a few weeks, I became constantly.oppressed
by a palpitation of the heart — a sensation I never
before experienced, not even at Clonmel — and it is
my firm conviction, that if the restrictions had not
been somewhat relaxed, I would have fallen a victim
to what certainly has worn all the appearance of a
deliberate design to shorten my life.
" Since the nth, I have been allowed as much oppor-
tunity of exercise as I could reasonably expect. I
ramble about in the neighbourhood of the station,
attended by a keeper, so upon this head, there is no
longer, at present, any ground for complaint.
" With regard to the request which I made, that you
would not mention anything about my health in your
letters home, the reasons for such an admonition no
longer exist, as I have thought it right to /et my own
friends know, both that my confinement has been
relaxed in consequence of its having proved injurious
to my health, and also, at the same time, that there is
no longer any reason for alarm."
So far, then, so good. But, is it not sickening to
think that the treatment which brought on his illness
266 MEAGHER OF THE SWORD
was enforced for no other reason than this — ^that he
declines to give his word not to escape, and, forthwith,
he is subjected to the most harassing privations and
indignities ; is shut out from all society ; is gagged,
and cramped, and half-stifled in a hut ; is buried alive,
in fact, upon a scrap of an island ; and from all this,
knows no exemption until his life is perilled !
Ah ! the race of Hudson Lowes is not extinct ; and
there are other rocks in the ocean besides that famous
one of St. Helena — sweet, secluded spots — ^remote,
snug nooks — ^just large enough for gaolers to test their
skill and venom on, in foul experiments upon a noble
hfe.
I have now said everything — everything that could
be said, I believe, about ourselves, our voyage, and the
circumstances in which we are placed. A few words, in
conclusion, about the Colony.
With regard, then, to the Colony : It is a beautiful,
noble island. In most, if not all, those features which
constitute the strength, the wealth, and grandeur of a
country, it has been endowed. The seas which en-
compass it, the lakes and rivers which refresh and
fertilise, the woods which shadow, and the genial
sky which arches it — all bear testimony to the excellence
of the Divine Hand, and with sounds of the finest
harmony, with signs of the brightest colouring, pro-
claim the goodness and munificence of heaven in its
behalf.
The climate is more than healthful. It is in-
vigorating and inspiring. Breathing it, manhood pre-
serves its bloom, vivacity, and vigour, long after the
period at which, in other countries, those precious
gifts depart, and the first cold touch of age is felt.
Breathing it, age itself puts on a glorious look of health,
serenity, and gladness, and, even when the grey hairs
THE PENAL VOYAGE 267
have thinned, seems able to fight a way through the
snows, and storms, and falling leaves of many years to
come. Breathing it, many a frail form which the
Indian sun had wasted acquires fresh life ; the dim
eye lights up anew ; to the ashy paleness of the sunken
cheek succeeds the sparkling blush of health ; the
heart resumes its youthful action, and drives the
blood once more in clear and glowing currents through
the frame ; whilst the mind that was sinking into
gloom and forgetfulness, touched, as it were, by a
miraculous hand, starts into light and playfulness, and
breaking far away from the shadows of death that were
closing round it, exults in the consciousness of a new
existence.
Oh ! to think that a land so blest — so rich in all
that makes life pleasant, bountiful, and great — so
formed to be a refuge and a sweet abiding-place, in
these latter times, for the younger children of the old,
decrepid, worn-out world at home — to think that such
a land is doomed to be the prison, the workhouse, and
the grave, of the Empire's outcast poverty, ignorance,
and guilt ! This is a sad, revolting thought : and the
reflections which spring from it cast a gloom here over
the purest and happiest minds. Whilst so black a
curse is on it, no heart, howsoever pious, generous, and
benignant, could love this land, and speak of it with
pride.
The Boyhood of Meagher
Clongowes College
The dear old college stood very nearly in the centre
of a circle of ancient towns. There was Clane, some-
thing like two miles off ; Kilcock, between five and six,
Celbridge, pretty much the same ; Naas, not a perch
further ; Prosperous, within four ; Majmooth, in the
opposite quarter, about the same distance. Very old
and ragged, with very little life stirring in them, they
seemed to have gone asleep many years ago, and to
have at last waked, half suffocated, shivering, and
robbed of the best of their clothes. In the brightest
day of the summer, they impressed one with this notion.
In the drenching black rain of December, their miserable
appearance chilled the blood of the fattest stranger who
chanced to pass through them, and to the imaginative
mind suggested the ruins of Baelbec. In short, there
wasn't a decent town in Kildare, nor on the Kildare
borders of Dublin.
Clane was one street. The street numbered a hundred
houses, more or less. Every second one was a shebeen,
or tavern, dedicated, as the sign-board intimated, to
the entertainment of Man and Beast. I recollect that
on one sign-board, next to the post office, the Cat and
Bagpipes rampantly figured ; whilst on another, a red
coffin, with three long clay pipes crossed upon the lid,
and a foaming pot of porter pressing down the pipes,
at the point of intersection, gave the public to under-
stand that the wakes of the neighbourhood would be
268
THE BOYHOOD OF MEAGHER 269
" convaniently " supplied. There was a police-barrack,
of course, with a policeman perpetually chewing a
straw outside on the doorstep, rubbing his shoulder
against the white-wash of the door post, and winking
and spitting all the day long. There was a Protestant
church — and that, too, of course, right opposite the
police barrack — with its gaunt angular dimensions, fat
tower in front, sheet iron spire, and gilt weathercock
on top. There was a low-sized, most modest, low-
roofed, little Catholic chapel, back from the street a
few yards, with a convent, sheltering three Sisters of
Mercy, on the right hand side coming down from Dublin,
and on towards the South.
At the southern end of the street, a quarter of a mile
from the houses, drooped off the beautiful brown Liffey,
deepening into gurgling pools, spreading thinly and
sparklingly over beds of sand and pebbles, threw itself
imder the arches of the quaintest, queerest, crookedest,
most broken-backed bridge that ever flung shadows on
the flashing path of the speckled trout and red salmon,
rushing away, with many a round of caprice and tur-
moil, through green rushes, sandbanks alive with
martins, sedges rustling with otters, into the copper-
hued darkness of Irishtown Wood.
Oh ! what a river is that exquisite wild Liffey !
How it tumbles ; glides away ; buries itself darkly in
pools of fabulous depths ; leaps over rocks ; deepens,
as it were, thoughtfully, under ruins and raths ; plunges
down into valleys ; ripples and whispers under willows,
the close leaves of the strawberry, and the purple-ivied
basements of church-tower, country-mansion, and
castle ; running the wildest, most ruinous, and grandest
frolic imaginable, until it frowns and grows sulky a
little above the King's Bridge, of Dublin, and in a
turbid thick stream washes the granite walls of the
270 MEAGHER OF THE SWORD
quays, over which the Four Courts and Custom House
rear their stately porticoes and domes.
In a yellowish, dry, worm-eaten manuscript, in the
Krundelian Library of Stonyhurst, I glanced one day
on a passage glowingly eulogistic of Clane. The manu-
script contains an account of the Sjmods held, at
different periods, in Ireland. This poor dribbling
village of Clane was the favoured scene of one of them,
six hundred years back ; and, apropos to it, the
chronicler, whoever he was, styled it the hortus ange-
lorum — the Garden of Angels. It is now a paradise in
ruins. The broken walls of an abbey, matted with
ivy, shadowing a confused crowd of tombstones and
tablets, the inscriptions of which no casual eye can
decipher, alone remain to bear out the panegyric put
on parchment recording its saintliness and glory.
One tomb especially, within those broken grey walls,
ever attracted me, bringing me close to it, and urging
me with a silent impulse back into the dim paths of
the past. It was that of a Crusader. So I thought.
So every one who visited it thought. So the whole
neighbourhood, for miles roimd, and for generations,
decided. Within the last week, I have been looking
over one of the beautiful Tracts of the Celtic Union,
entitled " The Traces of the Crusaders in Ireland," and
whilst I find in its bright pages vestiges of this
chivalrous Knighthood near Clonegall, in Carlow, and
on the Mourne, three miles south of Mallow, and at
Toomavara, near the ruins of Knockbane, and in the
parish of Temple-Michael, in the barony of Clashmore
and Clashbride, and at Ballyhack, close to the estuary
of the Suir, I am cast adrift from Clane, where the
chain-clothed legs and turtle-breasted body of a Templar,
burst out, as if with an incompressible leprosy, from
the dockweeds, the nettles, the rank grass, the daffodils.
THE BOYHOOD OF MEAGHER 271
the nightshade, and blackberry bushes with which it is
hemmed in, overshadowed, and dismally margined.
That's the faiilt I find with Clongowes. They
talked to us about Mount Olympus and the Vale of
Tempe ; they birched us into a flippant acquaintance
with the disreputable gods and goddesses of the golden
and heroic ages ; they entangled us in Euclid ; turned
our brains with the terrestrial globe ; chilled our
blood in dizzy excursions through the Milky Way ;
paralysed our Lilliputian loins with the shaggy spoils
of Hercules, bewildered us with the Battle of the Frogs
and Mice, pitched us precipitately into England,
amongst the impetuous Normans and stupid Saxons ;
gave us a look, through an interminable telescope, at
what was doing in the New World ; but, as far as Ire-
land was concerned, they left us, like blind and crippled
children, in the dark.
They never spoke of Ireland. Never gave us, even
what is left of it, her history to read. Never quickened
the young bright hfe they controlled, into lofty con-
ceptions and prayers by a reference to the martyrdoms,
the wrongs, the soldiership, the statesmanship, the
magnificent memories, and illuminating hopes of the
poor old land.
All this was then to me a cloud. Now I look back to
it, shake my hand against it, and say it was a curse.
The last, I have stated. The reason of it — at least
what appears to me to be the reason of it — I may, in a
little time, explain.
What true scholars and patriots they might have
made, those old Jesuits of Clongowes, had they taken
their pupils to the battle-fields of WilUam Aylmer's
army — skirting the Bog of Allen — or to the Geraldine
ruins of Maynooth, or the grave of Wolfe Tone in
Bodenstown churchyard, or to the town of Prosperous,
272 MEAGHER OF THE SWORD
where Dr. Esmohde buried the Red Cross under the hot
ashes of his insurgent torch, or to the woods and man-
sion of Rath-Coffey, where Hamilton Rowan once lived,
where the bay of his famous bloodhounds still echoed
in my time, and where an old man — ^lean, shrivelled,
skinny, with wiry, thin locks — still mumbled and shuffled
along the decayed avenue, showing the worn pike at
the end of his staff, which he had charged with against
the North Cork in Maynooth — ^what true scholars and
patriots. Irishmen in nerve and soul, might they have
made us had they taken us to these sites, instead of
keeping us within the pillars of the Parthenon, or the
forum and shambles of the Tiber ?
I write this, not that they kept us aloof from these
places of national interest ; not that they actually
imprisoned us within the routine range of the classics,
and shut the gates on us, as if there were no chastity or
illumination without ; but that we wandered with
them, day after day, miles upon miles, over these fields
and localities, without a finger to mark them on our
memories, or a syllable to mingle them with our
joyousness, our poetry, and rhetoric. Ireland was the
last nation we were taught to think of, to respect, to
love and remember.
It is an odd fiction which represents the Irish Jesuits
as conspirators against the stability of the English
empire in Ireland. With two or three exceptions, they
were not O'Connellites even. In that beautiful, grand
castle of theirs, circled by their fruitful gardens and
grain-fields, walled in by their stately dense woods of
beech trees, walnut, and firs, they lived and taught
— so it seems to me now — rather as hostages and aliens,
than freemen and citizens.
But, I can't bear to say anything against Clongowes,
It is to me a dear old spot. Long may that old tree,
Meagher as a boy
(From a pencil-sketch)
THE BOYHOOD OF MEAGHER 273
on which I've carved my name, put forth its fragrant
blossoms, multiply its fruit, lift its aged head to Heaven,
and receive thereon the dews which fertilise, and the
golden beams that propagate !
Midway between Clane and Maynooth — ^just ofE the
road skirting the domain of the College — ^lived one
Father Kearney, the parish priest of the united parishes
of Clane and Rath-Coffey. He was a great friend of
the College ; was always on hand there, whatever
ceremony or pastime, high mass or funeral, academical
exercise or collegiate symposium, was to take place.
With short black trousers, tight black gaiters, skimpy
black dress coat, rumpled white cravat, sandy scant
hair — at the tail of the plough, in the pulpit, abreast
of the altar, in the chair of the study hall, examining
the boys, or mixing his punch — ^he was ever the same,
grotesque, unique, and attractive.
He had nothing to do with the college, but somehow
or other, the old gentleman was constantly there. The
Jesuits had a gala day once a month. The boys had
football or handball, fishing or skating. They had an
extra allowance of meat, whatever it was, and tart
varying from apple to rhubarb, and from rhubarb to
gooseberry, as the season permitted. The Jesuits had
a choice banquet in one of those frescoed halls I have
already described.
To this banquet came all the neighbours. The
Aylmers, Gerald and William, nephews of the noble
old rebel I have mentioned, were never missed from
this monthly feast, during my time, and for fifteen or
twenty years before it. They did right. Were I living
near old Clongowes — close to it as they were — I'd dine
there, not only every month, as they did, but every
day, if possible.
From this monthly table, too. Father Kearney was
18
274 MEAGHER OF THE SWORD
never absent. The boys used to say — ^though his
cottage was two miles off — ^he smelt the dinner, and,
in dressing himself, timed his toilet by the perfume,
which came to him from the chimney-top of the college
kitchen, across the woods, the fields, and the marshy
bottoms. For upwards of thirty years. Father Kearney,
in his short breeches, tight black gaiters, clumsy
rumpled cravat, and carroty scant hair, was at that
feast. On the Academical or Commencement day,
year after year, he examined a certain class in the
Third Book of Caesar, asked the same questions, and
found the same faults. In Christmas week he visited
the theatre, sat alongside of the President, snuffed
himself plenteously, hemmed and hawed mightily,
perpetually pulled his nose and his waistcoat, brushed
his breeches over his knees, and sat there, snuffing and
puffing, the venerable Sphinx of the scene.
His cottage was known by the name of Snipe Lodge.
It was a thatched cottage, with a clay floor, naked
rafters, and four panes of green glass — each of them
with an enormous bull's eye — to let the light through.
He had a housekeeper named Biddy, and a butler
named Jim. Between Biddy and Jim, it was hard to
keep the place clean. The calf was for ever opening
his Reverence's door, upsetting the chairs, and the
turf in the corner. There was a blackguard parcel of
dogs incessantly scampering about, biting the legs of
the poor who came with their sores and their crutches
for alms, and frightened the hens from their roost.
As for the hens, they had, at last, to take refuge on
the smoked rafters, under the roof. Elsewhere, they
had neither immunity nor peace. There, night and
day, they used to crowd up, shake their wings, shut and
open their eyes, and make themselves comfortable.
Below was the hard floor of black clay, mixed with
THE BOYHOOD OF MEAGHER z^<
lime. All round, on four sides, were the walls, built
thickly of mud, and whitewashed within. Overhead
were black rafters, crowded with hens, flapping their
wings, pecking their leggings and breasts, and making
themselves indecently at home.
A few weeks after the consecration of the Right Rev.
Dr. Nolan, Bishop of Kildare and Leighlin, Father
Kearney gave a grand dinner in the one room of Snip*
Lodge. It was the great event of Biddy's existence.
She had never anything but a few eggs and a cut of
bacon to fry, before this. Now she had a pair of
chickens to roast and another pair to boil, and a beautiful
ham to dress and serve up with young cabbage, besides
having the biggest potful of potatoes (pink eyes) to
look after, and a cupful of fresh mustard to mix. It
was a great day with Jim, by the same token. He had
to lay a clean cloth, scrub the year's rust out of the
knives and forks, borrow three or four chairs from the
neighbours all round, and keep the hens off the rafters,
and the table immediately under them. This was the
worst trouble of all. For though Jim, now and then,
took the sweeping brush to them, and occasionally his
Reverence's blue cotton umbrella — opening and shutting
it suddenly, to frighten the birds from their roost —
and though in these efforts he was assisted by Biddy,
who took the basting-spoon to help the umbrella, it
was all to no purpose. The hens would keep to the
rafters, flapping their wings, dropping their spare
feathers, and, whenever Jim turned his back, and
Biddy was bent over the pot on the fire, popping down
straight on his reverence's clean table-cloth, to have a
crumb or two from the loaf which lay there, on a blue-
rimmed dinner-plate, waiting for the chicken, potatoes
and bacon to come on. Father Kearney himself used
sometimes to look in, and whisk his yellow silk pocket
276 MEAGHER OF THE SWORD
handkerchief at the obstinate fowls which overlooked
the scene of his feast. But the fowls didn't mind him.
As Biddy observed, they didn't care a straw for his
reverence, and she wouldn't be surprised if they mis-
behaved before the bishop himself !
" You might as well," Biddy used to say to her master,
turning round from giving the roasting chickens a turn,
•her face and hands pouring over with gravy, " you might
as well lave them alone, for the devil's in them
to-day."
The company arrived. Father O'Connor, the Procu-
rator of Clongowes, was the first on the ground. Next
came the Aylmers, William and Bob, the latter the
best horseman that ever crossed a ditch from the Boyne
to the Barrow. Then came Father Kearney's curate
from Clane, and Father Dignan, of Clongowes, and Dr.
Walsh, all the way from Naas, and the parish priest of
Prosperous, and two Professors from Maynooth, and
Dr. O'Flannigan, the comfortably-fed druggist and
doctor from Celbridge.
O'Flannigan, by-the-by, was the physician in ordinary
to the College of Clongowes. He visited it once a week
— every Tuesday, if I recollect rightly — ^walked through
the Infirmary, felt pulses, knocked against chests, fixed
his castor-oil eyes upon tongues, muttered mono-
syllabically to Judy, the head nurse and matron of
the Infirmary, wrote something in a book which Judy
kept in her cupboard, along with her tea, sugar, prayer-
books, and two or three withered, inflexible lemons.
His invariable prescription was senna and salts. The
boys called it " black draught." It made no difference
what ailed you, that dose was prescribed. Toothache,
neuralgia, constipation, scarlatina, pleurisy, lumbago,
ringworm, lockjaw, or softening of the brain — for every-
thing, the most trivial or most desperate, that " black
THE BOYHOOD OF MEAGHER 277
draught" was Dr. O'Flannigan's corrective. It was
with him that same " sweet obUvious antidote which
cleansed the stuff' d bosom of that perilous stuff which
weighs upon the heart," and purged it to a " sound and
pristine health."
His assistant was a lay brother of the College, one
Philip O'Reilly, of whom I propose to write more fully
in the course of these grateful recollections. Judy
always administered the dose. She mixed it, stirred
it with a teaspoon, forced it inexorably on the patient,
piously ejaculating : " Take it now, for the poor souls
in Purgatory ! " When it was swallowed, she gave
the patient the quarter of a dry apple, recommending
him just to take the taste off his mouth, and not to
eat it all.
Close upon the heels of Surgeon O'Flannigan, Major
Rind, a Protestant neighbour, came in. Then some-
body from near Bishop's Court, Lord Ponsonby's place,
where O'Connell tumbled D'Esterre. The bishop came
last.
The dinner was laid. The roast chickens were put
at the foot, and the boiled at the head, and the ham at
the side, right under Bob Aylmer's magnificent scimitar-
shaped nose, and the potatoes ever3^where around.
Father Kearney carved the boiled chickens, with the
Bishop on his right, and Major Rind on his left. Jim
bustled about with a new apron, and a clean napkin
tmder his arm, doing everything wrong, with Biddy,
as red as the poppy and as hot as a hob, standing at
the kitchen door — it opened into the parlour — and
ordering him to do this, and do that, and bewildering
him wholly.
" Sure, I can't, if you tell me," he used to cry out,
turning upon Biddy, with a plate full of fowl, or a cut
of the loaf on the top of a knife.
278 MEAGHER OF THE SWORD
By-the-by, Jim had an idea that, for everything, the
plates should be warm. If Dr. O'Flannigan asked for a
little bread, Jim ran into the kitchen, snatched a plate
from the plate-warmer, cut a slice of the loaf, and
handed it on the hot plate to the doctor. If Father
O'Connor, the huge Procurator, asked for the mustard,
Jim pushed Biddy aside, snatched up another blazing
hot plate, and planting the mustard pot on it, ran it
in to the Procurator. Old Bob Aylmer asked him one
time for a corkscrew. Jim brought it to him on a hot
plate. The hot plate was his absorbing idea.
The dinner was pleasant — indeed, it was jovial. The
company forgot the clay floor they were sitting on, and
the black rafters overhead, where the harpies were
roosting. The sherry had gone roimd half a dozen
times at least. The port, too, had more than once
circled the board.
" Let's have the champagne," said Father Kearney.
" Jim, hand roimd the champagne."
Jim made a dart for the kitchen for a hot plate.
Biddy stopped him, however, spreading her check
apron before him, and so bringing him quick to a halt,
like the Roman race-horses pulling up in a sheet on
the Corso.
" You omadhawn," says she, " what do you want ? "
" A warm plate, Biddy," says he.
" The divil warm ye," says she, " can't ye have
betther manners before his blessed lordship the
bishop ? "
With this reproof, Jim came to his senses, and
twisted the wire off a silver-crowned bottle. Then he
drew a carving knife across the veins of the throat,
and up went the crowned head — ^neck and all — ^with a
flash. At the same instant, frightened out of their
wits by the report, and one of them being hit by the
THE BOYHOOD OF MEAGHER 279
cork in the wing, down came the harpies with a rush,
and a flap, and a spatter — three of them straight on
the table — one of them into the potato-dish — another
on Dr. O'Flannigan's wig — another into the good
bishop's lap — ^whilst the cock made for the one pane of
glass behind his lordship, and darting through it, went
fluttering and splashing, all fuss and feathers down the
dirty boreen which led from Snipe Lodge to the high
road. It was some time before order was restored.
It was some time before Biddy and Jim succeeded in
dislodging the harpies. It was a very long time before
Dr. O'Flannigan of Celbridge composed his offended
feelings, and straightened out his wig.
" Gerald," Father Kearney calls out to Bob Aylmer's
brother, " stick your hat through the window, and
keep the cold from the back of the bishop."
Father Kearney of Snipe Lodge never entertained
after that day. Biddy, I believe, died of a rush of
blood to the head. Jim, disgusted with the world,
went to Moimt Melleray, and was there clothed with
the gown and cowl of La Trappe. Poor old Bob Aylmer
has shouted his last Tally-ho. Dr. O'Flannigan still
dispenses senna and salts, though Judy, his beautiful
Ganymede, has returned to dust. The guest of the
feast sleeps beneath the pavement of Carlow Cathedral,
and the host is troubled no more with obstreperous
fowl, and the affairs of Snipe Lodge.
He put together a large sum of money. His will
broke it up and distributed it amongst the sweetest
and noblest charities of the country. Two months
after his death, it was all found in a tin box, under the
thatch, over the front door of Snipe Lodge.
Recollections of Waterford
On board the old steamer William Penn I came up
the Suir, the second morning of Easter week in 1843. I
had wished good-bye to Stonyhurst. My College days
were over, my life in the world had begun. It was a
stormy year. O'Connell had opened it with a shout for
a Repeal. The Repeal debate in the Dublin Corpora-
tion had taken place. It was a splendid controversy.
Vivid eloquence on both sides of the house ; a manly
spirit of fair play ; a chivalrous love of Ireland ; in-
telligence, courtesy and patriotism characterised the
event. The interest of the people was awakened —
their enthusiasm excited. They had been inert, sluggish,
listless. No people could have been more so. But the
true chord once struck, everything was restored. Hope,
delight, ecstasy, defiance — a tumultuous life leaped to
the summons. The great meeting at Navan had taken
place. Limerick, too, had poured out thousands through
her ancient gates to meet the Liberator. The first
waves of the vast sea coming on, had struck the beach.
It was at such a moment I returned to my native city.
A bright sun was lighting up the dingy walls of Dun-
cannon Fort as we paddled under them. There was
Cheek Point on the left, towering grandly over the
woods of Faithlegg. Further on, at the confluence of
the Barrow and the Suir, were the ruins of Dunbrody
Abbey — an old servant, with torn livery, at the gateway
of the noble avenue. Further on, the grounds and
stately mansion of Snow Hill, the birthplace of Richard
Shell. Then the Little Island, with its fragment of
Norman castle and its broad corn fields and kingly
380
RECOLLECTIONS OF WATERFORD 281
trees. Beyond this Gaul's Rock, closing in upon and
overlooking the old city. Last of all, Reginald's Tower
— a massive hinge of stone connecting the two great
outspread wings, the Quay and Mall, within which lay
the body of the city — ^Broad Street, the cathedral, the
barracks, the great chapel, the jail, the Ballybrlcken
Hill, with its circular stone steps and bull-post.
The William Penn stopped her paddles, let off her
steam, hauled in close to the hulk, and made fast, I
was at home once more. Twelve months had passed
since I bid good-bye to it. Everything was just as I
had left it. The same policeman, chewing a straw,
was dawdling up and down the flag-way opposite where
the steamer came to anchor. The same old Tramore
jingle was lazily jingling by. The good old Dean of
the Protestant Cathedral, in his black knee-breeches
and long black gaiters, his episcopal hat and ebony
cane, was still pattering and puffing along the smooth
broad side-walk, from the Mayor's office to Mrs.
M'Cormac's confectionery, and back again. The same
casks, the same bales of soft goods, the same baulks
of timber I had seen there ten years ago, were still
lying on the Quay, between the river and the iron
chains and the pillars. The same rueful, wild haggard
face seemed to be pressed against the rusty bars of the
second window from the basement of the Ring Tower
— ^the same I had seen as I drove past in her Majesty's
mail coach on my way to Dublin the summer before.
And there was the spire of the cathedral right up against
me ; and there was Cromwell's Rock right behind me ;
and the Abbey church ; and Grubb's steam-mills ;
and White's dockyard ; and the glorious wooden
bridge, built by Cox, of Boston, a mile up the river
from where I stood ; and the shipping ; and the big
butter market ; and the shops, and stores along the
282 MEAGHER OF THE SWORD
Quay — an awkward squad of various heights and
uniforms, several hundred yards in length. Waterford
never appeared to me to change. For a century at
least, it has not gained a wrinkle nor lost a smile. In
every season, and for a thousand seasons, it has been,
and will be, the same old tree. If no fresh leaf springs,
no dead leaf drops from it. The Danes planted it ;
Strongbow put his name and that of Eva, his Irish
bride, deep into its bark : and King John held court
beneath its boughs ; James the Second hid his crown
into the crevices of its roots, and fled from it to France.
It has witnessed many other events, many other
familiarities have been taken with it. Many worse
blows have been given it, since the Earl of Pembroke
hacked it with his sword. But it has suffered nothing.
The dews, and the storms, and the frost, and the summer
heat come and pass away, hurting nothing ; improving
nothing ; leaving it, at the end of ages, the same, old,
dusty, quiet, hearty, botmteous, venerable tree. Heaven
bless it ! And may the sweet birds long fill its shady
trellisses with music ; and the noble stream with full
breast nourish the earth where it has root !
But a great change had taken place in Waterford
since I had last been in it, though appearance gave
no intimation of it. The old corporation or city council
had been displaced and a new one, installed in the
ancient seats, had been talking and voting, and in a
small way governing for the last six months. The
former — an irresponsible, self-elected, self-conceited,
bigotted body — closed its existence amid the jeers,
and jokes, and groans of the people. The Bill of parlia-
ment under which this change took place like every
other Bill of remedial tendency emanating from the
same place was illiberal and grievously defective. It
authorised the election of the city council by the people.
RECOLLECTIONS OF WATERFORD 283
but curtailed its powers. It was the enunciation of a
principle — the principle of a popular government — ^with
careful provisions annexed so that the clauses should,
defeat the preamble. It was a fair skin with the cancer
below it.
It looked well. Apparently wojked well. It was a
glorious thing, the people thought, to see some of their
own sort in possession of the Town Hall ; to see the
Mayor going to Mass ; to see him presiding at a public
dinner given to O'Connell ; to see Larry MuUowney,
the Repeal Warden from Mount Misery, an Alderman ;
to see some other political friend and favourite constable
of the fish market. It was a blessed thing, they thought,
to have the repairing of the streets, of nuisances, and
the government of the Holy Ghost and Leper hospitals,
all in their own hands ; and sure they never thought
they'd see Felix the basketmaker, the bitterest Orange-
man of them all, carrying the white wand before his
Catholic Worship, as his Worship, with the gold chain
about his neck, went up to Ballybricken to preside at
Petty Sessions.
All this was deeply gratifying to the masses of the
people. But, in the surprise and delight it excited, the
restrictions on the popular power, which accompanied
the municipal honours, were altogether overlooked.
Hence the reform in the city government was estimated
far more highly than it should have been, and from the
orators of the democracy called forth congratulations so
profuse and ostentatious for the advantage conferred.
In Ireland it has always been so. Generous and
credulous to excess, the people give the largest credit
on the smallest security, and repay the poorest favours
with a prodigal measure of thanks. So it was when
George the Fourth set his corpulent majesty on the
granite beach of Dalkey. He wore a clump of shamrocks
284 MEAGHER OF THE SWORD
on his breast, shook hands with some country gentlemen
in the Phoenix Park, and promised to drink their healths
in whiskey punch. Whereupon there was a roar of joy,
and Dublin went mad with loyalty. So it was when
Catholic Emancipation was achieved. On every hill a
bonfire, in every window a lamp or candle, in every
chapel a thanksgiving ; throughout the country the
wildest merriment, as though the land were free, as
though each man had his vote, gun and acre ; as though
the conquest had been repealed ! Shelley, the poet of
Republicanism, wrote tridy when he wrote these
words : —
" Catholic disqualification affects the law. The sub-
jection of Ireland to England affects the thousands.
The one disqualifies the rich from power, the other
impoverishes the peasant, adds beggary to the city,
famine to the country, multiplies abjectness, whilst
misery and crime play into each other's hands, under
its withering auspices."
Catholic Emancipation has enabled a few Catholic
gentlemen to sit in parliament, and there concur in
the degradation of their country. It has brought a
handful of slaves from the field, and gives them ap-
pointments in the master's house. The privileged class
but wear the livery of the proprietorship which compels
the obedience of an entire country, exacts its labour,
and appropriates its profits. As it was with the King's
visit, and with Catholic Emancipation, so it was, as I
have said, a balloon handsomely painted, which carried
up a boat-load of gentlemen a little higher in the world
than they had been before. The people cheered as
the balloon ascended : and, carried away with their
enthusiasm, fancied that they themselves went with it.
In this ecstatic mood I found my fellow-townsmen
on my return from college. My father was sitting in
RECOLLECTIONS OF WATERFORD 285
the curule chair. Chief Magistrate of the city, he
parsided at the meetings of the city council, and the
bench of borough justice. Amongst the aldermen and
town councillors, were the most conspicuous politicians
of the place. Men who had poured out their souls in
fiery streams upon the shackles of the Catholic and
the ruins of Ireland for years and years, and who
would have fallen in ashes but for the fresh fuel supplied
them constantly from Dublin — these men were now
seated at the red table in the assembly room — a senate
on the scale of a dwarf, with the limp of a cripple, and
the look of a beggar. The few faculties they possessed,
and these faculties for the most part hampered — the
fact of their not being able to borrow the smallest sum
for the improvement of the city without permission
of the Lords of the Treasury and their being allowed
to apply their own funds only to a few purposes, and
these not the most useful — circumstances such as these
justify the language of contempt in speaking not only
of the municipal government of my own city, but every
city or borough town in Ireland. Indeed, to call it a
government, is to indulge in a courtesy which borders
on a sarcasm. The sheriffs of the city were appointed
by the Lord Lieutenant. The police were under the
control of the commissionership in Dublin.
The day after I had arrived, the trades of the city
held a public meeting to petition parliament for the
Repeal of the Union. The meeting took place at the
Town Hall. There was a dense crowd. The en-
thusiasm was vehement — the rhetoric still more so.
The speakers rose with the occasion, and from the
loftiest clouds flung hail and lightning on the listeners.
Two of these soared far above the rest. Strikingly
different in their " physique " and speech, the one
impersonated the Iron age, the other the age of Gold.
286 MEAGHER OF THE SWORD
The one was an alderman and draper ; the other was
a schoolmaster, and earned his bread by dispensing
the fruit of knowledge. James Delahunty was the
alderman's name. James Nash was the schoolmaster's
name.
James Nash.
The schoolmaster was full of humour, full of poetry,
full of gentleness and goodness : he was a patriot from
the heart and an orator by nature. Uncultivated,
luxuriant, wild, his imagination produced in profusion
the strangest metaphors, running riot in tropes, allegories
analogies, and visions. Of ancient history, and books
of ancient fable, he had read much, but digested little.
He was a Shiel in the rough. Less pretentious than
Phillips, he was equally fruitful in imagery and diction,
and more condensed in expression. His appearance
was in keeping with the irregularity and strangeness of
his rhetoric. That he had a blind eye was a circum-
stance which, at first sight, forcibly struck one. The
other was crooked, birt evidently gifted with a wonderful
ubiquity of vision. It was everywhere. In a crowd, it
took in every visible point ; and, though revolving on
an eccentric axis, impartially diffused its radiance all
round. He had a comical face. Every conceivable
emotion and mood was blended there in an amusing
enigma, the exact meaning of which it was most difficult,
if not impossible, to solve. Addressing an audience,
his attitude excited the highest merriment, whilst his
sound sentiments and capital hits called forth the
loudest cheers. His usual attire was an old claret-
coloured coat, buttoned to the neck. What his trousers
consisted of, or looked like, I nearly forget ; but it
would be no great mistake to say, they were of drab
cloth, hung very voluminously about the ankles, and
were deeply stained. The hat — as comical an affair as
RECOLLECTIONS OF WATERFORD 287
the face — ^was cocked on one side of his head, and
suggested a devil-may care defiance of the world.
" Mr. Mayor and fellow citizens," it was thus he
addressed the meeting the morning I returned to
Waterford, " I came to attend this meeting, driving
Irish tandem — ^that is one foot before the other." With
exuberant adjectives he then went on to compliment
the distinguished people who were present at the meet-
ing. The Right Worshipful the Mayor of the city was
in the chair. The Right Rev. Dr. Foran, the Catholic
Bishop, was on the platform. " Patriotism," exclaimed
Nash, " flashes from the mitre of the one, and burns in
the civic bosom of the other." Then he proceeded, in
an amazing medley of facts, and metaphors, and figures
of arithmetic, to enumerate the evils which legislative
union had produced. " What has been the upshot of it
all ? " he asked, " Why it comes to this, they haven't
left us a pewter spoon to run a railroad with through a
plate of stirabout." The threats of coercion uttered
by the government next claimed his notice. He
despised them ; repelled them ; haughtily flung them
back. He defied the government ; he defied them to
come on. " Let them come on," he exclaimed, " let
them come on ; let them draw the sword ; and then
woe to the conquered ! — every potato field shall be a
Marathon, and every boreen a Thermopylae."
Three summers after this, I was one morning walking
out the old road to Tramore — a famous watering place,
most beautifully situated, six miles from Waterford.
Hearing footsteps behind me, I turned round — it was
Nash. I had never spoken to him ; never had an
opportunity of doing so. I was resolved not to lose the
present, and I wished him good morning. Rapidly
turning that ubiquitous eye of his on me, and giving
his hat an extra jerk on one side, he returned the salute.
288 MEAGHER OF THE SWORD
He did not know who I was, and I pretended not to
know him. Our conversation was,, consequently, the
more familiar. The secession of the Yoimg Irelanders
from the Repeal Association had very recently occurred.
We reverted at once to the event. Nash was a great
O'Connellite. He thought him immaculate — ^incapable
of error. Not wholly approving of the step'taken by
the Young Irelanders, he was willing to admit there
was much to provoke it. Whilst, on the one hand, he
would have wished them to have been more ductile and
subordinate to the Liberator — ^holding the opinion that
it would have been more wise and gracious of them to
have been so — ^he could not deny but that in the recent
policy the Liberator had advised, and the general tone
and management of Conciliation Hall, there was a great
deal that was repulsive to the hot blood of youth and
irreconcilable with the honour of a people. Nash was
just to Young Ireland despite the fanaticism of his
devotion to O'Connell, and very sensible in his remarks
on all such topics, notwithstanding the riehness and
riotousness of his imagination. He spoke of The Nation
newspaper in superlatives of praise. It was the greatest
paper published ! Nothing could transcend the sub-
limity of its teachings ! The prose left the Dream of
Plato in the background, and the poetry eclipsed the
Iliad ! " Just before I die," said Nash, " my last
request shall be, to have the last number of The Nation
stitched about me as a shroud, so that when I appear
hereafter I may have something national about me."
In this manner he went on for an hour or so, until we
came to the bridle-road, when, shaking me by the hand,
he wished me good-bye. " My school is below there,"
he said, " and I flog the boys every morning aU round,
to teach them to be Spartans."
Of a class now almost extinct in Ireland — the Irish
Thomas Francis Meagher
(As Brigadier-General of the Irish Brigrade, 1861-4)
RECOLLECTIONS OF WATERFORD 289
schoolmasters — ^he was the finest specimen I ever saw.
Had Carleton seen him, he would have immortalised
him in t5rpe. As it is, he is dead, buried in some
Potter's Field. Like all the poor, honest, gifted men —
the rude bright chivalry of the towns and fields — ^who
thought infinitely more of their country than of them-
selves — ^he died in utter poverty, companionless, and
nameless. Yet, should anyone give me a file of the
Waferford Chronicle from 1826 to 1847, there would be
in my possession the materials of an epic, of which poor
Nash, with his headlong honesty and reckless genius,
should be the hero. He was a conspicuous figure, in
the political action of Waterford, for more than twenty
years. During the days of the Catholic Rent, he was
conspicuous. In Stuart's election, which broke down
the prestige and power of the Beresfords, he was con-
spicuous. In the elections of 1830 and 1832, he was
equally so. In 1843 he emerged from his classic
seclusion — for a season gave over flogging his boys and
making them Spartans — and appeared once more as a
Demosthenes on the hill of Ballybricken, the Acropolis
of Waterford.
The last time I saw Nash was the day of my father's
election as representative of Waterford, in the month of
July, 1847. It was about five o'clock in the evening.
The polling was nearly at a close. Sir Henry Winston
Barron and Mr. Wyse were sadly beaten. The excite-
ment of the people was intepse. For years they had
longed for this victory ; and at last, in a fuller measure
and with a more precipitous speed than they expected,
it had come. They hated these gentlemen, for these
gentlemen were aristocrats in social life and imperialists
in politics. They were not of the people, nor among
them, nor for them. Both would lord it over them.
The one from vulgar affectation ; the other instigated
19
290 MEAGHER OF THE SWORD
by the haughtiness of superior intellect. For a long
time they had kept their seats, not with the assent of
the people, but favoured by circumstances and a
temporising policy, dictated by the leaders of the
people. Circumstances were changed— radically
changed — and the temporising policy, before the
breath of the national spirit, was impetuously swept
away. Hence the defeat of these Whigs — ^both of
them respectable men, and one of them an eminent
scholar — ^who had so long misrepresented in the supreme
political convention of the empire the heart and mind
of the chief city of the Suir.
A huge crowd was before the Town Hall The Mall
was impassable. The windows on both sides of the
thoroughfare were filled with eager and excited gazers.
The doorsteps, the lamp-posts, the leads and skylights
of every house within sight or hearing of the Town
Hall, were densely thronged. A troop of dragoon
guards, coming down Beresford Street in double file,
pushed their way through the enormous crowd, and
suddenly facing about formed line in front of the Town
Hall, in the centre of the Mall, thereby cutting the crowd
in two. At this moment Nash made his appearance in
one of the front windows of the Town Hall immediately
facing and looking down on the dragoons. His queer
eye played through the multitude for a moment. Then
giving his hat, as was usual with him on all such occasions,
a jerk on one side, he turned up the cuffs of his coat,
unbuttoned his shirt sleeves, took a bite of an orange,
and commenced his harangue.
" Men of Waterford ! — The day is ours. Barron is
beaten. Wyse is beaten. The boys are with us. The
girls are with us. The soldiers are with us — aren't ye,
boys?
There was a tremendous cheer at this. Many of the
RECOLLECTIONS OF WATERFORD 291
dragoons seemed pleased. Their captain, however, be-
came highly incensed. Banners and green boughs, and
scarfs, and handkerchiefs, and hats, and bonnets, were
flung out and shaken to and fro, up and down, in
tumultuous delight. The horses of the dragoons be-
came restless. They champed their bits impatiently,
flinging flakes of froth here and there upon the crowd.
They pranced a little, and shied a little, and backed a
little. The cheering still went on. In the midst of
all, at that window in the Town Hall, with his crooked
eye in full play, and his hat still on one side, stood
Nash, with the most comical complacency, waiting for
the excitement to subside. It did subside a little, and
he went on to say that he loved a soldier's life, and would
be a dragoon before long. The only objection he had
to the service was the red jacket. Why shouldn't it
be green ?
" Why shouldn't it, boys ? " he exclaimed, addressing
himself to the dragoons, " why shouldn't it be green —
our own immortal green ? "
There was another tremendous cheer when this was
asked, and the dragoons gave way to the good nature
and enthusiasm of the crowd. They laughed out loud,
and some of them cheered, and not a few of them waved
their swords.
" Do you see that ? " cried Nash, and he dashed his
hat about, and tore his coat wide open, and hurrahed
with all his might. But the captain, a handsome young
snob, with sleepy eyelashes, and the daintiest mustachios,
looking down the line, gave his men the order to move
off, which they did amidst the loudest cheers — poor
Nash all the time twisting his eye, and shouting as
before with all his might. That was the last time I
saw him. His object was to remove the dragoons ;
and the speediest way to do so was to appeal to their
392 MEAGHER OF THE SWORD
patriotism. He thought so, and his calculations were
right. The dragoons were ordered off ; and Nash and
his audience had it all to themselves. The day was
their own.
The Stuart Election.
My recollections of Waterford for the most part refer
to political events and personages. The earliest I retain
is that of Stuart's election, when the pride of the house
of Curraghmore was humbled to the dust. In one huge
mass the country rose against the Beresfords, and drove
them from the haughty domination they had so long and
with so much terror and prestige- maintained. To the
sagacity of the Right Rev. Dr. Kelly, the Roman
Catholic Bishop of Waterford, this triumph of Demo-
cracy must be ascribed. At a public dinner given in the
Trinitarian Orphan House, by the managers of that
institute, the Bishop had statistically exposed the
relative strength of the Catholics and Protestants of
that county. A preponderance so very decided ap-
peared in favour of the former that a trial of their
strength with the champions of the Protestant Ascend-
ancy was enthusiastically resolved. A parliamentary
election coming on shortly after, the trial took place,
William Villiers Stuart — ^now Lord Stuart de Decies,
Lord Lieutenant of the county, and Colonel of the
Waterford Militia Artillery — ^was put forward by the
Catholics. Lord George Beresford at the head of the
Tory landlords and the Orange squireens and parsons,
a vast and ruthless army in which all the police, tax
gatherers, bailiffs, sheriffs' deputies, gangers, and all
the garbage of the foreign government were included —
entered the field, his crest dripping with the blood of
'98, the stalwart Front-de-Bceuf of the Established
Church and garrison, Stuart was a Protestant, but a
RECOLLECTIONS OF WATERFORD 293
chivalrous friend of the Catholics. Young, wealthy,
accomplished, handsome, he was endowed with almost
all the gifts which attract the multitude, securing
popularity for their possessor, and imparting eclat to
the cause he personates. Nor was he wanting in
eloquence. He could speak fluently, though with a
subdued grace, which had the appearance of timidity.
Backed, however, by a crowd of dauntless orators — all
of them experienced and famous in their art — ^his de-
fects made no impression. Whatever they were, they
were lost sight of in the blaze and tumult which burst
around him from the pedestals on which those inex-
haustible apostles of the people stood.
There was Dr. Peter Kenny, whose tongue was like a
sabre — ^bright and flexible, and strong — flashing whilst
it wounded, and wounding whilst it had a foe to strike.
The Doctor had been a volunteer in the Venezuelan
expedition under Devereux. He had worn the green
and gold in the Republican cause of Bolivar, and into
the political campaigns of a cooler climate infused the
impetuosity and fire, the brilliant abandon and reckless-
ness of his tropical adventures. Shiel writes glowingly
of him in his sketch of the Clare election. Shiel himself,
if I recollect rightly, was in Waterford the time I speak
of. O'Cormell certainly was. Wyse in his History of
the Catholic Association, describes his appearance in
the city during the election, and quotes a memorable
joke of his. A steamboat had been sent up the Black-
water to bring down a large body of the Beresford
tenantry to the poll. O'Connell heard of it — went out
in great haste on the balcony of Shannon's hotel —
announced the circumstance with a burst of alarm, and
wanted to know " if the wives would let their husbands
trust their lives to an old kettle of boiling water ? "
The steamboat was then a mysterious novelty to the
294 MEAGHER OF THE SWORD
country people. They did not understand it, and their
fears respecting it were easily excited. The question
put to them with so much anxiety and alarm, and in
language which most forcibly conveyed their own
notion of the danger, had the desired effect. The
steamboat returned without a voter.
But of the local celebrities in that contest, the most
prominent and powerful was the Rev. John Sheehan,
the parish priest of St. Patrick's. I speak of him as " a
local celebrity." To his fame the phrase is a great
injustice. He was known to the country. He was
known far beyond it. He was one of the few whose
strong voices reached the highest places where a stupid
royalty secluded itself from the people, the wrongs they
felt, and the truth they spoke. " Father John's
speeches," a distinguished member of the Munster bar
said to me one day, " shook St. James's." An expert
controversiahst, an eloquent preacher, an experienced
divine, he was a light of the sanctuary and a pillar of
the Church. Pious as he was, his social tastes were
genial. He was fond of fashionable society. He
cultivated the acquaintance of the titled and persons
of distinguished birth. There were few families of any
eminence in the social scale in England or Ireland with
whose history he was not acquainted. On heraldry he
was a copious authority. No one could better trace
a genealogical tree through all its roots and branches.
The older the tree the more clearly and nimbly he swept
through it ; but if he paid court to fashionable people,
to people of high birth, to people of distinction — if he
was glad to be asked to their tables and thought it an
honour to be seen in their carriages, he seldom disguised
and never compromised his political opinions to gratify
them. Privately and publicly he boasted he was a
Democrat.
RECOLLECTIONS OF WATERFORD 295
On the repeal question, however, he was precarious.
In 1843 he attended repeal meetings, and made repeal
speeches. In 1847 he voted against the repeal candi-
dates. His inconsistency was susceptible of one excuse,
and he did not fail to urge it with effect. The repeal
movement in Waterford was in the hands of the illiterate
and vulgar demagogues. The Alderman I have men-
tioned was the chief of them. Educated men grew
intolerant of such coarse dictatorship, and asserting
their freedom, imconsciously compromised their in-
tegrity. This was the case with the Rev. John Sheehan.
In the days of Catholic agitation, however, he had no
offensive dictation to repel, and every step he took was
consistent with his convictions and his words.
Stuart's election, of course, is to me a misty scene. It
is a phantom rather than one of the distinct realities of
memory. I was a child, and not exceeding three years
old — ^when it took place. The incidents and figures of
the scene have left upon my mind no visible impression.
The men who conspicuously figure in it, and most of
whom I have mentioned, were introduced to me at a
much later day. They were old men, and dying men,
the day I first appeared in public life. But the sound of
the hot strife is buzzing in my ears, and my eyes grew
dim in the glare which burst from it, amid the swaying
to and fro of gaudy banners, and the discharge of
cannon.
The result of the election was the defeat of the Beres-
fords. It was a sweeping defeat. It was the annihila-
tion of their political consequence. They never re-
covered it. The enormous expense it entailed so
thoroughly disgusted the present Marquis of Waterford
— gave him so fearful an intimation of the penalties of
public life — ^that nothing could ever induce him to set his
foot within its frontiers. He has scrupulously kept
296 MEAGHER OF THE SWORD
aloof from politics. Not even the Mastership of the
Buckhounds would he accept, though offered to him at
the cordial suggestion of Prince Albert. What was the
gain to the people ? What power accrued to them in
the overthrow of the house of Curraghmore ? The
power to return fat noodles and rich stupidities in the
name of religious freedom and Tenant Right to parlia-
ment. Pusillanimity succeeds to bigotry, and bloated
inactivity to aristocratic domination. There's the
victory, and then there's the gain. One acre of land,
good against all claims, ensured to him for ever, were
better to the Irishman by a thousand times than a
thousand of such triumphs. It would make him richer,
freer, happier, nobler. That one acre, would have more
wealth and virtue in it, than a catacomb stuffed with
Emancipation Acts. With that one acre to take his
stand on, a legion of Beresfords would be no more to
him than a pyramid of mummies.
Social Life and Snobbery.
I have said that my recollections of Waterford refer,
for the most part, to political events and personages.
Of other events and personages there was a dearth.
Social life was at an ebb in the old city. There were
very few gaieties. A ball in the Assembly room, two
or three dinner parties, a picnic in summer — these
were the only events that enlivened the sobriety of the
twelve months. The fashionable circle was very small.
Composed principally of these who had enjoyed municipal
honours and emoluments under the old Tory reign, it
had no affinity with the people. It was stiff with
illiterate conceit. Socially selected from, it was politic-
ally hostile to, the great body of the citizens. The
Conservative candidate for parliamentary honours
RECOLLECTIONS OF WATERFORD 297
always had its sympathies. If the Whig, or pseudo-
Liberal, was sometimes favoured with them, it was
owing to the aristocratic acquaintances and tastes he
cultivated. Mr. Wyse was esteemed by this dainty
society of noodles less for his eloquence and scholarship,
than for his being a favourite guest in London at the
tables of distinguished Whig noblemen. One evening
discussing the chances of Mr. Wyse's defeat in the
parliamentary contest of 1847, an amiable authority of
this select circle I speak of — a kind old soul, who no
doubt imagines there are velvet cushions and loimges
in heaven for all those who have been " respectable "
on earth, and bare benches only for those who have
sat in the " lower classes " below — this kind old soul,
his mouth running over with excitement, and black
rapee, told me of a visit he had recently paid Mr. Wyse,
at his residence, Walton Terrace, London. " The
table," he said, " was literally covered with invitations
from the highest nobility in England. There was an
invitation from the Marquis of Lansdowne to supper.
There was another from the Earl of Shrewsbury to
limch. Another from the Earl of EUesmere. Another
from Baron Brunow, the Prussian ambassador. A
dozen or two from such men as Lord Morpeth, Viscount
Mahon and the Duke of Cleveland. And is it such a
man — a man who receives such invitations as those —
is it him you are going to turn out of parliament ? "
This was the logic, the philosophy, the patriotism of
the municipal nobility, the genteel, broken-down old
fogyism of Waterford. With the loss of the city treasury
and town hall, they lost their importance, and the
consciousness of the deprivation was visible in the
penitential sobriety of their features. In this con-
dition the people seemed to regard them with a pity
slightly adulterated with contempt.
298 MEAGHER OF THE SWORD
The first thing which struck me, and that which
roused my imagination most on returning to my native
city, was to find a number of admirable men — ^men in
various departments of business, and building up their
fortunes with skill and honour — occupying socially an
obscure position. These men never had their dinner
parties, their balls, their festive gatherings. The city
fathers, seated in the town hall, alone indulged in such
plays. So haughtily did they indulge in them, no other
people, not even their betters, presumed to be con-
vivial. A worthy tobacconist of Patrick Street, though
eminently entitled to do so by his good presence,
courtesies, and fair circumstances, would as soon have
thought of committing sacrilege as of making his
appearance in the same room, though it were a public
one, where Alderman Babcock and his daughters, or
Sheriff Gillott and his showy wife, or Captain Yellow-
wig and his enchanting niece, were figuring on the
floor. A strong disdain for men in business was active
in these gentlemen. The feeling was not confined to
Waterford. It prevailed all over the country. The
lower classes, as they called them, were diseased with
it as well as the higher. The bitterest thing that could
be said against a public man, was that his father made
boots, was successful as a tailor, or tanned the best
leather. No young fellow, sure of an income of £200
a year, or less, ever thought of going into business.
They entered their names, perhaps, at the Queen's
Inns, and ate the prescribed number of dinners, to
qualify them for admission to the bar. It was con-
sidered genteel to be a member of the bar, the celebrities
of the profession constituting, with the officers of the
army, and the retinue of the Castle and other public
establishments, the only aristocracy of the Irish
metropolis. Besides, it was the main road to political
RECOLLECTIONS OF WATERFORD 299
preferment. A barrister of six years' standing, whether
he practised or not, was eligible to a colonial salary, or
some berth at home, and was sure to receive the one or
the other, provided he was valuable enough to be
bribed.
The Waterford Club.
Yet with all their conceit and pretensions, there were
good souls amongst the old Tory fashionables of Water-
ford. I was a member of the County and City Club,
and had many opportunities afforded me of learning
their worth, and conceiving a genial fondness for them.
The Marquis of Waterford, the Earl of Huntingdon,
Lord Carew, Sir Joshua Paul, Sir Henry Barron, Sir
Nugent Humble, were members of it. Purely a social
club — a club for pleasant intercourse and merry
meetings — politics were rigorously excluded from its
walls. No one entered with his Repeal button or
Orange sash. Both were- left in the umbrella stand at
the outside door. Whatever they were without — ^how-
ever widely they differed in the streets, within all were
Irish gentlemen, cordial, generous and jovial. Very
nearly three-fourths of the club were Conservatives or
Tories. Only two or three were Repealers. I had the
honour to be one of the latter. Politically considered,
it was a desolate minority. But so true were the
members to the fundamental principle of the Club, that
they might all have been Repealers for anything
offensive ever heard to the contrary. The majority
were loyalists to the marrow, and never lost an oppor-
tunity to assert the fact. They were sincerely so.
Truthful, high-toned, gallant, their loyalty won my
respect, though it failed to invite my concurrence.
Loyal as they were, however, they were friendly and
affectionate to the Rebel. Inwardly condemning his
300 MEAGHER OF THE SWORD
insubordination to the Queen, they openly loved him
for his fidelity to the Club. A staunch friend of the
pleasant institution they knew me to be. Of the
principle on which it was established they knew I
warmly approved. They knew that in public, over
and over again, I had prayed for that tolerant, genial,
generous brotherhood amongst Irishmen, of the feasi-
bility and beauty of which, in a little sphere, they
themselves had furnished such delightful evidence, and,
to the last moment, for these reasons, I believe I con-
tinued to be their favovirite. Well do I remember how
cordially they used to drink my health and cheer my
stammering speeches at their dinners. Well do I
remember the jovial welcome and the shuffling of chairs
round the fireplace, every night I came in. Early or
late — ^the later the better — ^they always had a chair
and a cheer for me.
Well, too, do I remember the kind importunity with
which many of them endeavoured, as the fatal time
drew near, to dissuade me from the enterprise, the
failure of which, they predicted, would remove me from
the old house on the Adelphi for ever and a day. Some
of them a few days before my arrest in July, 1848, met
me at dinner at a friend's of mine, close to the Lunatic
Asylum on John's Hill, and urged me to withdraw from
the movement.
" There's no use — ^you'll fail — ^you'll lose everything."
" Must stand my ground," I said,
" Oh, nonsense ! " they replied, " quit it, and come
with us."
" Where to ? " I asked.
" To Italy — ^to Greece — to Egypt ! " they exclaimed.
The invitation was a tempting one. A party of honest,
cheerful, spirited fellows, full of life, intelligence, and
the best good nature, to ramble with from the Suir,
RECOLLECTIONS OF WATERFORD 301
through the Mediterranean, to the Nile, was a prospect
almost too enchanting to resist. Struck with it I felt
my patriotism relax. Had it not been of iron, it would
have melted in the warmth of such friendship and the
seductions which it breathed. The iron may have
rusted but it is iron still.
Of this club and all belonging to it I cherish the
liveliest remembrance. Many a time do the bid faces
I so often saw there re-appear to me, sparkling and
laughing, grinning or frowning, darkening into horror
at some catastrophe, or bursting into boundless mirth
at some rich joke, as they used to do, night after night,
in that magic circle round the fireplace in the smoking
room. Many a time, as I sat on deck on my way to
the world's end in her Gracious Majesty's sloop-of-war,
the Sieift, have I travelled back through the waves,
the sea birds and the clouds, through boisterous and
dismal scenes of all sorts to that big weather-slated'
house, looking out over the Adelphi across the Suir to
the Abbey Church and Cromwell's Rock, and there
forgetting everything else but the club house, though
the trade winds were in our sails and the southern stars
were shining clear and full and fresh above us, and the
albatross swept down and wheeled about us, in his
majestic plenitude of wing — have I read the papers
and eaten my anchovy toast and smoked till midnight,
gossiping and joking over the occurrences of the day
with my old friends in that snug and dusky room, right
opposite the timber yard of Jacob Penrose, one of the
most sedate and estimable quakers of the Urhs Intacta.
It was, indeed, a pleasant thing to drop in there about
nine or ten o'clock at night. A little while after you
opened the door, you could discern nothing plainly. T?he
smoke was dense, filling the four corners. The group
about the fireplace was but a darker cloud. As you
302 MEAGHER OF THE SWORD
approached, it resolved itself into several distinct frag-
ments. Each fragment was a gentleman. The gentle-
man had his cigar, his short clay pipe, his manilla, or
his chibouque. Night after night, for the twelvemonth,
it was the same. For the last twenty or thirty years it
had been the same. The habitues of that cozy and
capacious fireplace formed a stock company of the
pleasantest performers on the provincial stage of life.
An unctuous laziness kept them at home. Had they
moved abroad, their good qualities and wit would
have shone as brightly in a broader sphere. Neither
the Kildare Street Club, in Dublin, nor the Carlton nor
the Athenaeum, in London, would have been too am-
bitious a theatre for many of them to have figured in.
Endowed by nature and improved by art — ^by travel,
reading, constant intercourse with endless varieties of
people — they were well qualified to shine, draw down
applause, and be the favourites wherever they chose
to stay.
One was an attorney — a wild-looking, big-boned, dis-
orderly dressed gentleman — ^whose ideas and language
partook strongly of the excitement of his appearance.
His anecdotes were voluminous, and his speculations
interminable. Profuse and incongruous, his descrip-
tions of scenery bewildered himself as well as his hearers.
I was present one night he described a storm at Killamey.
His hair flew about in every direction from the top and
back of his head. His waistcoat unbuttoned — ^his
neckerchief wriggled and danced, like an eel, about his
neck. With hands wide open, and the fingers standing
violently apart, his arms swept the air, up and down,
right and left, to and fro, here and there, and every-
where — a pair of condor's wings in the ecstasies of
plunder.
Mangerton was hid in one enormous cloud ; the Reeks
RECOLLECTIONS OF WATERFORD 303
and the Toomies had disappeared ; the waves were
leaping up and pouring over Ross Castle — the thousands
of bones and skulls in Muckross Abbey were tumbling
and dashing about and splitting each other to splinters
with the wind ; " And," he exclaimed, his eyes ready
to burst, and his hair tearing itself out from the roots,
and his long wild arms jumping away from their sockets,
" and the wind and the water, and the woods and the
mountains, were all, my dear Keating, on fiire ! "
Immediately after such an effort as this, the poetic
attorney struck by the aspect of increduUty all roimd,
would compose himself a little, and put the question,
" Don't you think it was so ? " It matters not whether
he was answered in the affirmative or otherwise.
Having put the question he concluded he was perfectly
understood, and subsided for a time into less riotous
enjoyment. He filled his pipe. If I remember rightly,
it was an old black pipe — ^very short and very dirty —
the ugliest dwarf of an old dudeen. Crossing his legs,
he lit his pipe, buttoned a button of his waistcoat, and
silenced himself in smoke. Still, however, the big
brown eye glared upon the company, flashing back the
red coal which filled the grate. From his momentary
trance he was sure to wake up with a jerk, to inflict a
rhapsody of science on the survivors of his original
audience. He was better than the Riot Act for dispers-
ing a crowd. No crowd could withstand his delirious
vocabulary an hour.
A convivial soul, unconsciously pouring over with the
strangest fun, he was a bewildered theorist and a pre-
carious politician. In his profession alone could one
depend on him. There he was steady, intelligible,
reliable, decidedly successful. At one time he was pro-
prietor of the Waierford Chronicle, and vehemently
insisted on Repeal. His editor was an eccentric and
304 MEAGHER OF THE SWORD
fruitful genius, used a copious pen, and used it boldly.
Though he died very dismally, and few followed him to
the grave, poor Quarry Barron will not be forgotten in
and around Waterford for many a year to come. His
speeches, less startling in their imagery than those of
Nash, were more sohd in their matter and subtle in
their wit. He died a Repealer. His employer, the
incongruous attorney, the proprietor of the Chronicle,
lives happily as a Whig in improved business as Queen's
prosecutor at Quarter Sessions. Unworthy of an
epitaph commemorative of patriotism, I trust he shall
have one reminding the readers of his tombstone, that
with all his vagaries in public life his good-fellowship in
private was consistent, whilst the sobriety of the attorney
made ample amends for the madness of the poet.
Another member of the Club of whom I preserve a
durable impression, was old Bell of the Manor. He
had served in the Waterford militia long before the
peace of 1815, and in civihan dress ever after kept up
the consequence of the periodical profession. I forget
whether he was Captain Bell, or Major Bell, or Colonel
Bell. It is of little importance. Whatever his military
distinction may have been, he was a great old Bell,
with a hard, old-soldier face, bushy black whiskers, a
white cravat, having a comical tie ; always a big dinner
coat of a very dark shade ; big, baggy trousers, a little
top short ; white stockings, loose shoes, a purple wig,
an overshadowing hat, a pair of brown worsted or
leather gloves, and a stupendous umbrella of brown
cotton. It was refreshing to see the old soldier, shoulder-
ing his inseparable umbrella, with his shoes freshly
blackened, turning out of his house, opposite to
Harry Downes' extinct distillery, and calmly moving
through the tumult and perils of the Tramore car-stand,
into Beresford Street, along the footpath under the
Meagher's Irish Brigade Flag of the 69th Regiment
RECOLLECTIONS OF WATERFORD 305
Bishop's wall, of a morning to the Club. Calmly,
silently, solidly, he moved along, disturbed by nothing
vmder heaven, on his way to read the papers. Having
got through the papers, he returned as he set out,
complacently and slowly, with an unruffled countenance,
a rigid face, and a fearless gait. What became of him
the rest of the day, the public never knew. About
eight o'clock in the evening, however, he was down again
to the Club. As before, he came along by the Tramore
car stand, through Beresford Street, tmder the wall of
the Bishop's garden, with his heavy umbrella across
his shoulder, with a steady conscience and a measured
step, without a word, without a quiver of the lip.
Silent, erect, large, old-fashioned, sombre somewhat,
and almost grim, Bell carefully stacked his umbrella
in some safe nook, and, without a syllable, took his
accustomed seat amongst the smokers. His seat was
on the left hand side of the fireplace. There was a
handy little shelf, midway up close to the chimney-
piece, projecting from the wall. It was fitted with a
brass hinge, and could be let up or down like the leaf
of a table. The first thing old Bell did at the fireplace,
was to take a chair. It was usually an armchair. The
second thing he did, was to call for a glass of grog —
brandy and cold water. The third thing he did, was to
set this glass of grog upon the old shelf beside him at
his elbow. The fourth, to draw out his pipe from the
breast pocket of his dinner-coat. The pipe, invariably,
was a clean, white pipe, with a pretty^ong shank, and
a thin, smooth coating of red sealing-wax at the top.
Obviously, pipes were his only expense. The fifth
thing Mr. Bell did was to cut a pipe-full of tobacco.
The sixth, to fiU his pipe. The seventh, to Ught it well.
The eighth and last, to smoke it to the bottom of the
bowl. All this was done in deep silence. The veteran
20
30 6 MEAGHER OF THE SWORD
hardly raised his eyes once during the deliberate pro-
ceeding. If spoken to, he lifted one eye-lid and eye-
brow a little, smiled perhaps, and then relapsed. Forced
to speak, he spoke economically, with a small expenditure
of breath, using the shortest syllables. Bell was an
Orangeman, a staunch, bluff, inveterate worshipper
of William of pious memory. More hateful to him
than Beelzebub, the Pope was his perpetual dread.
With all the kindness of his nature, he was ever more or
less suspicious of his Catholic acquaintances, and looked
upon them as people rather to be tolerated than trusted.
He would not hang, but would keep a keen watch on
them. He would not, perhaps, deprive them of a
vote, but would never give them a gun. He could
never forgive them the Gunpowder Plot or the Spanish
Armada. When the statue of King William was blown
up in College Green, he flourished his umbrella, swore
the militia must be called out, and the Emancipation Act
instantly repealed. As for Daniel O'Connell — ^no fate
was too bad for that monstrous disturber of the peace.
I know not if the big cotton umbrella is at rest. I
know not if the last white pipe, in the cozy corner I
have spoken of, has been smoked. But if the worst
has come, if the bells have tolled for Bell — if Bell
sleeps in the same sweet earth with those he feared in
life — then peace and happiness and glory be to him !
He was a true and gentle soul, imobtrusive, yet un-
compromising. Slow but sure. A Cromwell in his
way, but a Cromwell with more heart than brains.
That the evenings at the club to which such men
resorted were pleasant in the extreme need not be said.
In my native city — in that old city of the Suir — social
unity was sadly wanting. In Ireland — all through
Ireland — it was wanting, too. This social unity is a
ground-work of a unity yet more stable, yet more con-
RECOLLECTIONS OF WATERFORD 307
spicuous and fruitful in great events and blessings.
The unity which the army of Lord Charlemont, despite
of the weakness of its leadership, and the defectiveness
of its enterprise, with ineffable brilliancy portrayed.
The unity for which Wolfe Tone — the clearest, boldest
spirit sprung from Irish soil — studied, toiled, travelled,
begged, organised, moved the military genius of a
colossal empire, manned a noble fleet, fought, bled, was
manacled, and in his dungeon died. The unity, to
accomplish which the young scholar, historian, poet,
orator — known to us as Thomas Davis — sprang to light,
struck the harp, burned the midnight oil, thought, and
sang, and rambled ; thought like a grey-haired saint of
old ; sang, like a feudal bard of old, 'mid lifted spears,
and flowing horn cups, and clashing swords and spurs ;
rambled for, like the hunted outlaw, over moor and
river, through bog and glen, by rath and cairn, and
chapel, plucking flowers, and golden relics, and laurels
bathed in blood, and offerings from every race settled
by conquest or misfortune in the land, all for the crowning
of the future nation, rising from the dead, and with
liberty to be made immortal ; and so thinking, singing,
rambling, toiling — ^wasting brain and heart — ^was struck
to earth with the splendour of the vision — died delirious
with the destiny in the full blaze of which, with lion
heart and eagle-wing, he soared.
With all their childishness, with all their folly, with
all their indolence, with all their incentives to driftless
gaiety and frolic, with all their loyalty to England and
her King or Queen — the darkest turpitude of all — ^may
the social institutions flourish which bring Irishmen
together, make them know each other, trust each other,
love each other, and, in convivial circles, teach them
they are brothers all ! This done, there is a family.
From a family comes a camp. From a camp a Nation.
The Galway Election
The Connemara pony galloped us into Loughrea in
less than no time, the boy on the box shouting the
whole of the way, at the top of his voice, for O'Flaherty,
Repeal and ould Ireland. The streets were crowded as
if it were a fair day. Detachments of the 8th hussars,
slowly riding up and down in front of Kilroy's Hotel,
up and down before the Courthouse, and round and
round Eyre Square, threw a variety of brilliant touches
into what would otherwise have been a very sombre
picture. The day was dull. A thaw had set in. The
ground, covered with a soft crust, was inclined to be
muddy. An ashy sky arched the old Spanish houses,
the quaint, solemn look of which deepened the gloom-
iness of the scene. Everyone, except the hussars
appeared to me to have been out all night on Lough
Corrib, and to have come into town in wet clothes.
The hussars themselves, with all the swinging finery
about them, and the fire and beauty of their horses,
were not wholly free from the damp and mouldiness
which seemed to prevail. The fur on their jackets
looked moist — ^looked like a brown rabbit would after
being dragged out from under a heap of wet leaves.
The mulberry nose of a sinewy, broad-shouldered
sergeant sitting calmly in his saddle, close to the back
door of the Courthouse, was covered with something
resembling a very cold dew. The white sheets of calico,
with O'Flaherty's name and patriotic sentiments in
lamp-black upon them, shared the general depression.
Tacked to the dreariest bare poles, they dangled from
the window-sills of houses that looked as if they never
308
THE GALWAY ELECTION 309
knew what a good fire or a laugh was. The banners
were on the outer walls, but were all the worse for
being so. Lifeless, colourless, and clammy, they were
calculated rather to depress than to excite the en-
thusiasm of the City of the Tribes. Patriotic sentiments
were never before so destitute of drapery. The under-
taker must have been the painter, costumier, upholsterer,
and decorator to the Repealers of Galway on this
slovenly and dismal day.
The dulness, however, was all outside. It was
superficial gloom and stupidity. There was life enough,
a little way out of sight, behind those dead banners.
Galway was piled up, and crushed within four walls
that day. They were the walls of the Courthouse.
Every man who had a heart, an arm, or a kick in him,
was there. Every man with a shirt on his back was
there. Every man who could shout for Repeal was
there. Every man who could boast of a roof over his
head, a penny in his pocket, or a crust for his breakfast
was there. Landlords of every description were there.
The tyrant of the field, the swindling sportsman, the
beggar in fine linen and broadcloth, the sneaking
supplicant for Government favours, the political traitor
making a joke of his perfidy, the vulgar toady of the
great house whose owner he knew would have a
coronet on his coffin when carried to the toads and
leeches — all were there, jumbled up together, flushed,
disordered, sweltering, tossing hats and handkerchiefs
about, now and then fiercely shaking fists, shouting,
crushing one upon another, many of them foaming at
the mouth, all heightening the turbulent and stormy
scene with the wildest excess of words, threats, cheers,
oaths and gestures.
Mitchel and I looked down from the grand jury
gallery upon the tumult. Stunned by the terrific
310 MEAGHER OF THE SWORD
shouts, our eyes swam in the hot, suffocating haze
through which thousands of arms and legs and heads
— ^most of them in rags, many of them bleeding, all of
them coated with dust, whitewash, and dishevelled —
flung themselves frantically to and fro, aloft and every-
where. Under a canopy of red maroon, in the middle
seat of the judge's bench, sat the high sheriff of the
borough, Michael B. Browne, Esq. A thin white wand,
which he nervously held fast to, denoted his official
rank. Had it been a magic wand he might have stilled
the tumultuous wave of the black sea beating at his
feet. As it was, he sat hke Canute rebuking the flood,
but incompetent to compose its fury, or resist its en-
croachments. Mr. Browne was a genteel spectacle of
powerless dignity, exciting a polite pity, which his
smile of resignation and urbanity deepened. In the
corner on his right, in a compact pillar of shining white
teeth, aristocratic noses, proud flesh, and superfine
cloth, were bundled the supporters of the Government
nominee, James Monahan, the Solicitor-General. The
L5mches were there ; so were the Blakes ; so were the
Burkes, Martins, Gregories, St. Georges, and every
other silken and scented slave of the neighbourhood
in the interest of England. In front of them stood
Monahan. In front of them — but with head stooped
and eyes steadily spying about him, exhibiting in-
stinctively all the cowardly caution and cunning of a
practitioner in the lowest grade of his profession, and
the humility of the unpolished parvenu in the presence
of his patrons. The parvenu in this boisterous scene
seemed deeply conscious of the debt of gratitude,
deference and homage he owed to his patrons. The
patrons glowed with the vain thought of the mischief
and noise they were making with so plebeian a client.
Shabbily dressed, with a sallow skin, mottled with the
THE GALWAY ELECTION 311
blue refuse of his coarsely shaved beard, with inches of
crumpled, soiled linen lapping over his necktie and
puffing out from under his cuffs, he stood there, in gait,
costume, and look, the veriest varlet and hack which
the worst Government, or the meanest aristocracy
subject to the worst Government, could hire to do their
jobs within Parliament, under the blind eyes of Justice,
in the outhouses and at the back-door of the Castle.
A large, wide-drawn, heavy mouth, perpetually twitch-
ing and hardening between the firmness due to his.
offtce and the trepidation which men of coarse natures
and sudden success experience, he shufSed, twisted,
and shrugged himself before the crowd which hooted
and cursed him in that Courthouse, the very image of
the night-bird to which Devin Reilly, with his pic-
turesque power and truthfulness, likened him. Of the
humblest origin, the Irish people, who have a proud
reverence for the princely old stock, spurned him as a
■mushroom, the spongy growth of a night. Sullen in
his features, awkward in his gait, stinted in blood and
muscle, having nothing whatever grand, or gallant, or
gentlemanly even, in his aspect or address, he failed
to exercise the influence which handsome features and
a chivalrous air in many instances command, where
morals are suspicious, or birth is dubious, or genius
is deficient. The driest pedagogue in the school of
law — ^with a mind originally rude and barren, rendered
still more sterile by the dead knowledge he heaped upon
it, and which he disposed of as a phrenologist does his
skull, shoulder blades, and hip joints — ^without a flower
of poetry to beautify, or a solitary pyre-gleam of
philosophy to illuminate his studies, social conversa-
tion, or professional discourse — selfish, calculating,
crafty, mean in heart as he was in look — ^ungrammatical,
illiterate, inarticulate for the most part, slovenly and
312 MEAGHER OF THE SWORD
insipid — ^he had none of those radiant gifts, none of
that intellectual fire which melts down prejudices and
fuses the speaker and the audience into one glowing
mass, and which, beating down with a sword fashioned
of simbeams, as it were, the conceits which frown upon
the cradle of the poor, wins from Plantagenet and
Tudor — from the lordliest brat who struts the stage of
life in the wardrobe of some dead plunderer — the Cross
of Honour, and in the majestic cathedral of history
wears it till the sun grows cold.
On the left of the sheriff were many of the sturdy
honest merchants of the town, the Irelands, MacLogh-
lans, Mangans ; representative men of the trades, such
as Mahon and Barnacle ; young, spirited, professional
men ; some few of the landed proprietary, such as
Cummins, French, and Foster ; several of the Catholic
priests, amongst the latter the Rev. Messrs. Roche emd
Daly. In the body of the hall, blocking up every
avenue leading to it, hanging on the piUars of the
gallery, clinging to window-sills, swinging out of iron
brackets in the walls, thrust upon each other's backs,
surging and struggling, gaping with the heat and
violent pressure, yet flinging up their brawny arms with
an enthusiasm almost delirious, and cheering with all
their might — cheering until their eyes started, grew
red and flashed, and the veins in their foreheads filled
with burning blood — ^were the " rabble," as the dainty,
sleek aristocrats on the right of the High Sheriff called
the poor, the ragged, the unpurchasable honesty, the
impetuous patriotism which, living on crusts, were
content still to live, so that they could see the Green
Flag flying and their country free.
With considerable difficulty we made our way past
that calm, mulberry-nosed sergeant of hussars, on
guard at the back door, up the stone steps of the Court-
THE GALWAY ELECTION 313
house to the lobby of the grand jury room, and from the
lobby to the gallery. At the entrance of the gallery,
Michael Joseph Barry met us.
" We'll have to fight," he said.
" Fight ! " exclaimed Mitchel.
" Fight ! " I re-echoed.
" Yes," said Barry, somewhat hurriedly, but distinctly,
" Monahan's party will drive us to it— O'Gorman goes
out in half an hour."
This was agreeable news to hear the moment we got
into Galway. What a hurry we were in to be shot !
Mitchel and I looked earnestly at Barry, then at each
other, and then back at the steps up which we had
rushed. Mitchel steadied his countenance, smiled for a
moment, twisted a lock of his hair, jerked himself back,
stood straight before Barry, and burst into laughter.
It was a fierce contest. Night and day the com-
batants were at work. For more than a week they
fought. From dawn to sundown, the battle surged
and thundered within the courthouse. From sundown
to dawn the theatre, the lanes, the streets, some of the
oldest houses in the city, the suburbs, the roads all
round, were scenes of furious action.
The theatre was a ridiculous old building. The walls
inside were salmon-coloured. The paint, here and there
and everywhere, had been rubbed off. Occasionally
some gashes appeared. The white underground shone
through these. Monstrous noses, boldly delineated
with burnt stick, revealed themselves in swelling curves
upon the walls. Cobwebs were plentiful. They were
there by the yard, the perch, the mile. They were
there in pocket-book editions and the folio size. They
were there as small as a snuff-box and as huge as a
bale. It was a warehouse of cobwebs.
314 MEAGHER OF THE SWORD
Two or three of the side scenes were standing. One
was a stricken oak. Another a dingy pilaster with an
Ionic volute. A third represented an abutment of
sandstone, with an iron ring hanging out of it — a large
black pudding describing a circle on the door of a kitchen.
The gas footlights seemed very little better off than the
rest of the furniture. They were dismally out of repair.
Most of them were no better than rush-lights. A few
of them did too much. Extravagant beyond control,
they went literally to blazes. The rest of them, choked
with dust, and otherwise incapacitated, were not a
spark of use.
Nothing more favourable can be said of the stage.
Full of holes ; with a trap-door now and then giving
way ; with a scene-roller at intervals breaking loose
from the ropes, or the ropes snapping ; with the
scantiest allowance of light bare wall on either side,
and a bare wall in the rear ; it was the most disreputable
platform any patriot could have the infatuation to
stand on. For years no tragic step had made it creak.
For years no ghost had risen through the shifting
apertures from the musty regions underneath. For
years no death by bowl or dagger had provoked the
approving thunders of the soapless gods.
Seven o'clock, every evening of the contest, saw that
paintless, lustreless, dishevelled temple of the drama
in possession of the stormiest crowd. Pit, boxes,
galleries, every seat, every standing place, from floor
to ceiling, were black with people. The orchestra
didn't escape. The first into the theatre, the moment
the front door opened, had that. Instead of trombones
and fiddles, bassoons and kettle-drums, we had devoted
Repealers who beat time with their heels, and, previously
to the chair being taken, enthusiastically whistled
" Garryowen " with variations. One of these per-
THE GALWAY ELECTION 315
formers was a man of huge limbs, upwards of six feet
in height. His shoulders were broad enough to carry
a dray, whilst the girth and shape of his arm realised
what has been told us of the colossal pugilist of Crotona.
This famous Italian carried a young bullock over forty
yards, and then killed it with one blow of his fist. Our
friend in the orchestra might easily have accomplished
a similar feat. He was the image of Hugh in the story
of " Barnaby Rudge." Every inch as sinewy and
large, he was as wild and shaggy in appearance, and
almost as desperate in his onslaughts. During the
election his exploits were terrific. In the courthouse,
the day of the nomination, he seized four men round the
neck with his right arm, and crushed them together as
if they were walnuts and he himself was a nutcracker.
Another time he pulled a big sergeant of hussars clean
off his horse — saddle, saddle-cloth, and all — ^with one
jerk at the spurred heel of the trooper.
About twelve o'clock one night he called on one of
the Confederates- Creeping inch by inch softly into
the room on tiptoe, he stood — ^with his broken hat in
his hand, his brown mass of hair strewed about his
face and shoulders, and his coarse shirt, spattered with
mud, torn open from the throat — the very picture of a
Rapparee outlaw.
" I'm done for," says MuUin.
" How so — ^what's the matter now ? "
" Done for," says Mullin.
" Let us know how."
" It's up with me entirely," says he.
" But what's the matter ? " asks his friend the Con-
federate.
Mullin straightens himself up, twirls his hat twice,
throws back with his left hand a dozen brown flakes
off his face, and leaning over towards the table where
316 MEAGHER OF THE SWORD
his confidential adviser was sitting, in a dismal whisper
informs him that he's had no less than eleven petty
sessions notices served on him for assault and battery
since morning.
" Now what's to be done ? " said he.
" Make them a dozen," was the prompt reply of his
counsel.
MuUin, without saying a word, but with a comical
shrug of one shoulder, walked out. Slowly and heavily
he descended the stairs, plaintively wWstling as he
went, but making up his mind to make it the dozen.
He did so.
MuUin was the terror of Monahan. He was the terror
of every man of the Government party. The latter
would have been beaten to rags were it not for the sabres
of the hussars and the bayonets of the police. Mullin
would have done it. Alone he'd have fluttered the
Volsces in Corioli.
A Uttle after seven the chair in the theatre was
usually taken. The chair was a picturesque piece of
stage furnitiure. Made entirely of the plainest wood,
with a high arched back, and no opening between the
legs, it was painted to harmonise with the colour of
the walls. It had been the judgment-seat of the Doge
in the " Merchant of Venice," had also supported in
their dying moments several dynasties of kings and
queens, and, with its back to the audience, and the help
of a little black and white canvas, had served for the
rostrum from which Mark Antony, more than once,
poured out his eloquent sorrows over the senseless
body of Caesar. It was all that was left of the gorgeous
palaces, temples, villas, banquet halls, and solemn
courts of justice, which had collapsed and withered
into cobwebs.
One evening the orators and committee were half
TEE GALWAY ELECTION 317
an hour late. The people, grown utterly impatient,
and despairing of the usual performance, resolved on
having something by way of a change.
It was very near eight o'clock, when a few of us
entered the green-room. From the door opening on
to the stage, we beheld the chair planted close to the
foot-Ughts, and a number of legs and arms, with a
head and a pretty big stick, flashing from it on all
sides. They were evidently keeping time to a rollicking
song:—
"I'm a ranting roving blade,
Of never a thing was a ever afraid ;
I'm a gentleman born, I scorn a trade.
And I'd be a rich man if my debts were paid.
Right fal lal de lal lal."
This was the sentiment of the singer, and in this
sentiment, in ranting roving chorus, the tumultuous
theatre seemed to concur. They had voted some
frolicsome vagabond into the chair, and this bright
lad, with his hat tipped on three hairs, and the wrists
of his coat turned up, was flourishing a beautiful knobby
bit of blackthorn in the handsomest style, striking out
with his elbows and fists and handling his legs with
bewildering ease and rapidity. Now and then, when he
chanced to do something perfectly marvellous — ^when
the blackthorn gave an extra twist or twirl, or his
elbows and toes seemed to strike one another and knock
fresh music out of his throat — there was a roar of
applause, during which the shillelagh and legs worked
away as if the boy were possessed.
The committee having arrived, we moved towards
the vocalist. A shout, lusty enough to sweep every
cobweb, the toughest and blackest, from the walls,
greeted our entrance on the stage. Again and again
3i8 MEAGHER OF THE SWORD
and again it broke out. The ranting roving blade,
carried away with the enthusiasm of his art, infatuated
with the beUef that it was all meant for him, redoubled
his efforts and continued his song. We came closer.
The shouts grew louder. The blackthorn frantically
swept the air, the elbows shot out right and left, the
legs fairly flew asunder. Closer stiU. Up to the chair.
Deafening shouts ! The roving blade was one blaze
of musical and gymnastic insanity !
In the midst of the next chorus he saw it all. One
sudden glance to the left disclosed to him the committee
and Dublin deputations, Tom Steele at their head.
The stick fell from his grasp. His head fell back. His
hat fell off. His legs shot out, and quivered at full
length. 'Twas all over with him. The thought stunned
him. Recovering a little, he leaped headlong from the
salmon-coloured chair into the densely packed orchestra,
and disappeared for the rest of the contest. I never
saw him after that night. I never heard that anyone
else did. Indeed, I never heard that he was seen in
Galway again. His hat and favoiurite blackthorn, left
behind on the surface as he vanished with a plvmge,
were charitably fished up by the treasurer of the
committee, carried away as trophies, and deposited
in the library of that gentleman.
The speeches in the theatre can be easily imagined.
They were philippics against the Whigs. They were
panegyrics on Repeal. The servility of the landlords —
the Marquis of Clanricarde especially — swelled many
an indignant period. From the graves with which the
famine had crowded the land, flowers of the darkest
hue sprang up. With the hard, stem facts which
years of vicious government had set one upon another
these flowers were woven. It was the ruin and the
ivy-^ Both had their roots in the soil strewed with
THE GALWAY ELECTION 319
wreck and consecrated to the dead. The history of
the Whigs, in connexion with the popular party in
Ireland, was l|id open with the boldest hand. Tom
Steele denounced them as the deadliest enemies of
Repeal. The Rev. Mr. Roche spoke with a thrilling
emphasis of the " cruel and criminal policy of the Whig
Government." That the people were reduced to
starvation ; that all the corn and Indian meal stored
in Galway was permitted to rot ; that the gain of the
English merchants was preferred to the very lives of
the people ; that coroner's inquests daily and hourly
took place, whilst the storehouses and granaries were
overflowing ; these, he said, and many other evils,
were the rank fruit of the policy maintained by that
heartless Government. Richard O'Gorman, Michael
Joseph Barry, and Michael Doheny, shook that old
building with an eloquence which would have saved
Galway the disgrace of being beaten by the public
prosecutor of the British Government, if eloquence
could have prevailed against the power of a corrupt
Government, backed by a servile aristocracy, and
hundreds of tenants reduced to serfdom.
APPENDICES
I
The Night of the Conviction
[From " The Nation."]
There were heavy hearts in Clonmel Gaol, on Saturday
evening, October 22nd, 1848. Thomas Meagher was
in the dock, awaiting the verdict of the jury who had
tried him. The large cell, at the top of the building,
which was the sleeping apartment of M'Manus, O'Donog-
hue, and Leyne, and the common saloon, during the
day, of some twenty others, was silent and cheerless.
The central table was covered with a miscellaneous
equipage of carousal — glasses of all shapes and sizes,
cups, mugs, jugs, and contraband black bottles, con-
taining specimens of Irish Resources, proscribed by
the Board, but seditiously introduced for the comfort
and jollification of a very boisterous gang of Irish
rebels. Ordinarily, at the hour, Meagher presided at
our evening festivity. And such a capital president
as he made ! He was the life of our circle — so frank,
gifted, and beloved. His humour, his eloquence, which
stirred us even there, and his intrepidity, were the
sunshine that made the old walls seem brighter than a
palace. Oh ! around that board I have had as glorious
visions, and felt as riotously happy, as if no cloud were
resting upon Ireland — as if no chain were clanking at
my feet. Many a grand old Irish song was sung there ;
many a gallant sentiment was uttered ; many an
inspiring ballad recited ; many a broken-voiced lament
whispered for the failure ; and many a prophecy of
future success rapturously applauded. Within the four
21 321
322 MEAGHER OF THE SWORD
seas, there was not, at times, so disorderly a body of
criminals, mad with merriment ; and, when the fit had
passed, oh ! but there were deept and earnest com-
munings on the past, and conjectures of the future, of
our dear Ireland. On one night wc Ustened to fiery
speeches, full of the old spirit and burning eloquence
that had roused the heart of the nation, the words
falling like the fiery tongues on the Apostles. On
another, we masqueraded at a concert, Meagher leading
the band on his clarionet, accompanied by twenty
manly voices, and every variety of sound that could
be extracted from accordions, kettles, tins, and tongs.
On the next, we fought at the barricades. A heavy
table used to be placed in the centre of the room, and
taken possession of by half the detachment ; the
other moiety stormed the garrison. We fought with
pillows — very formidable and destructive weapons, if
properly handled. Such charges, such shouts, such
blows, such defences, such drubbings ! I think I
should be invaluable as a barricade-man, after that
warm practice and invigorating discipline. I would
engage to tumble the most stalwart member of the
" B " detachment, if I had choice of my weapon — a
short, hard-crammed pillow, or symmetrical bolster,
that would swing like Boadicea's flail. The contest
lasted till we could fight no more.
To a spectator, the meetings roimd that mess table
would have worn the appearance of the festive gathering
of an insurgent camp, not the poor prison revels of
conquered rebels. Lord ! how we frighted the gaol
from its propriety. And then, as the approach of one
of the prison officers was heard, all the evidences of
seditious enjoyment used to disappear with miraculous
celerity, and on the entrance of the grave governor
(who was a good fellow at heart), one-half of us would
be found buried in books, the other devoted to the
innocent and improving combinations of the profound
science of backgammon. The remonstrance of the
governor, or his noble-souled, generous deputy, would
APPENDICES 323
be listened to in affected respect and hypocritical
silence. On his disappearance, good zealous man,
convinced that he had converted us to " peace, law,
and order," the revolutionary mania would break forth
again, and Clonmel Gaol be changed into a " Model
Prison " according to our contumacious notions of
" physical " enjoyment. Ah, these hours of prison life
had their own joys ! They bore flowers that for some
of us shall ever bloom. They ripened friendships
which the cold artificial world of intrigue and fashion
knows not, with all its rigid formalities and genteel
stupidities.
This Saturday night there are no revels. Meagher's
place is vacant. But he is in all our thoughts. We
canvass the chances of his escape ; and every now and
then one of us approaches a window, which overlooks
the street, and communicates with a secret sentinel,
who brings news from the Courthouse. How eagerly
we speculate on every report that reaches us — on the
character, position, and, alas ! religion, of each jury-
man — on the delay in the finding of the verdict. The
table and its stores are deserted. O'Donoghue, who,
with O'Brien and M'Manus, had been already convicted,
lies on his bed, in an agony of suspense for the issue of
the night. He idolised — he absolutely lived but to
think of him. M'Manus, erect as a rifleman on parade,
strides vehemently up and down the apartment, mutter-
ing now and again sopie impetuous aspiration, or
trying to inspire others with the confidence he feigns
to feel. Anthony O'Ryan and Leyne sit with folded
arms, side by side, in a remote corner, speaking not a
word. The others are variously disposed. Some read-
ing Madden's " United Irishmen " ; others transcribing
ballads from the " Library of Ireland ; others sketching
portraits of Meagher, Mitchel, O'Brien, and Duffy ;
and one or two drawing pikes of formidable proportions
on the whitened walls, with the original crayon, a
charred stick.
It was a solemn hour. The fate of the most beloved
324 MEAGHER OF THE SWORD
of brothers trembled in the scale ; the fate of him, for
whose restoration we would have died with bounding
joy. Suddenly the preconcerted signal is given from
below ; and the message deUvered to us that " the
jury had disagreed." Not a sound for a moment, and
then such a thrilling uproarious shout of joy arose as
never issued from mortal voices, since the angels sung
the world's birth-hynm. Alas 1 our deUrium was but
short-lived. Another signal below, and this the message
of doom : " The report was false. He is convicted.
They are bringing him from the Court ! " I shall not
seek to paint the change that fell like the announcement
of eternal woe to us poor disenchanted mourners.
Then came bursts of sorrow and imprecations of rage.
We had borne up against every reverse and discomfiture.
We had seen three others torn from us, and doomed by
the law. But while Meagher remained, we scarcely
knew a regret, certainly had not utterly despaired.
But, now — now !
They did bring him from the Court. We received
him at the end of the corridor, and through the iron
gateway grasped his hand. We had not the usual
welcome for him this night. He laughed gaily when
he met us ; " Good night, boys ! Here I am, and found
guilty ; and glad, too, that they did convict me, for if
I had been acquitted, the people might say I had not
done my duty. I am guilty, and condemned for the
old country. . . . Come in, come in to the cell, and let
me have my dinner." We accompanied him to the
cell. Some of us could not remain. Lejme stood on
the corridor, weeping bitterly. O'Donoghue was spell-
bound, at the doorway. M'Manus, shaking with agita-
tion, held Meagher in his arms. The young convict
was deeply affected by these evidences of grief and
affection. But he soon recovered composure, and
coming into the passage drew into the room — " Come
in — come in — I'm starved. Let us have one hour's
fun." His spirit infected us as by magic. We sat
around him, and heard the details of his trial given with
APPENDICES 325
inimitable humour and mimicry. He had us all laugh-
ing at his drollery in a few minutes. I shall never
forget the merriment M'Manus evoked by asking in
his fiercest tone, when Meagher had finished his recital :
" I say, Meagher, did you say anj^hing to the d
scoundrels when the verdict was read ? " Meagher
shrieked with delight.
We had an hour's fun. As Davis has sung of another
gathering : —
" With bumpers and cheers we did as he bade,
For Tom Meagher was loved by the Irish Brigade 1 "
We drank to O'Brien and Butt. We toasted " the
Convicted Traitors " ; " Gavan Duffy and the Prisoners
in Newgate and Kilmainham " ; and we pledged a
brimming glass to " The Irish RepubUc." Meagher,
O'Donoghue, and Leyne, spoke speech after speech.
And the last sang Duffy's noble song : " Watch and
Wait ! " to a chorus that made the old walls reel
again. How rapturously we thundered the concluding
key-verse : —
" Brother, if this day should set,
Another yet must crown our freedom ;
Thai will come with roll of drum,
And tramping files, with Men to lead them.
Who can save
Renegade or slave ?
Fortune only twines her garlands
For the Brave 1 "
" Gintlemin," observes an intrusive turnkey, poking
his head inside the door — " the governor has heard the
shoutin', an' he's comin' up, flamin' mad."
" Oh, the D 1 take all governors to-night ! Hurra,
boys, hurra ! —
" Who can save
Renegade or slave ?
Fortune only twines her garlands
For the Brave I "
" Hurra, again ! " Poor turnkey stands aghast.
Enter governor, looking " bolts and bars." " Gentle-
326 MEAGHER OF THE SWORD
men, to your cells. This is most improper conduct. I
shall report to the Board, and have you separately
confined." Meagher intercedes. " The fault is his.
He is the head and cause of the irregularity. But as
he is going to be hanged, he hopes the Board will not
sentence him to solitary confinement, in addition to
that decisive discipline." Loud laughter from governor,
corps of turnkeys, and rebels. Exeunt omnes, in good
humour, shaking hands fiercely.
This was the celebration of the Conviction. There
was no shrinking within the gaol. Three days before,
the prison oificers had been seen, by some of our com-
rades, examining " the drop," preparing the scaffold
for the sacrifice of the genius, the hope, the forsaken
chivalry of the trembling country. The appointed
victims knew this. And still the love of Ireland, which
had been their pure and glorious incentive, made them
rejoice to mount the bloody platform of execution,
carpetted with the torn banners of Ireland.
Oh ! often in loneliest solitude, in that old cell, when
I alone remained of the gang of Rebels in Clonmel Gaol,
have I thought of the heroism and intrepidity of the
Traitors. When hope was wild in their hearts, in the
first days of the revolt ; when they seemed within a
bound of success and glory ; when, a short week after,
they were himted outlaws, stealing through the country
by night, hiding by the day in woods and on hiU-sides,
crouching in the sanctuary of the village chapel, con-
cealed in the rude shieling of the peasant, or nursed by
the warm hospitality of the gentleman-farmer ; flying
from the police patrols, and the recreants from Dublin,
who dogged their steps as the sleuth-hounds of the
Castle ; captured, hopeless, convicted, condemned —
never did one ignoble fear soil their purpose, nor one
dastard regret violate its vows pledged to Ireland.
And I say to you, poor, cringing slaves of Ireland,
that beyond his glory in the tribune, beyond the fame
which diademed his brow, beyond all the triumphs of
his eloquence, beyond the dominion of your passions,
APPENDICES 327
beyond the witching homage of fair women, and the
affection of bold men, was the grandeur of the intrepid
bearing of the young orator of revolution, when he
stood, rejoicing, defiant, and inspired, in the shadow of
the gibbet, content "to bear the cross with the same
loftiness of soul with which he had worn the laurel
crown."
Seven days later, and it was whispered that the
humane Government of her Most Gracious Majesty,
Queen of England and various other countries, whether
through remorse or policy, I know not, had delicately
recommended that the hungry hangman should be
robbed of the prey allotted to him by the law. A grace
pmrchased by no "selfish penitence," by no apologies
from the " condemned cells." There was no loyal
jubilee for this exertion of the apocrj^ihal prerogative.
Neither " God Save the Queen,' nor " Rule Britannia,"
echoed in the prison. The Marseillaise and " The
Wearing of the Green/' were our vesper-hymns.
328 MEAGHER OF THE SWORD
II
The Felons
[This poem, by Dr. Campion, is founded on an incident in
the wanderings of Meagher, Leyne, and O'Donoghue, after the
failure at Ballingarry.J
" Good peasant, we are strangers here.
And night is gathering fast ;
The stars scarce glimmer in the sky.
And moans the mountain blast ;
Can'st tell us of a place to rest ?
We're wearied with the road ;
No churl the peasant used to be
With homely couch and food."
" I cannot help myself, nor know
Where ye may rest or stay ;
A few more hours the moon will shine.
And light you on your way."
" But, peasant, can you let a man
Appeal to you in vain.
Here, at your very cabin door.
And 'mid the pelting rain —
Here, in the dark, and in the night.
Where one scarce sees a span ?
What ! close your heart ! and close your door !
And be an Irishman ! "
" No, no — go on — the moon will rise
In a short hour or two ;
What can a peaceful labourer say.
Or a poor toiler do ? "
" You're poor ? Well, here's a golden chance
To make you rich and great !
Five hundred pounds are on our heads !
The gibbet is our fate !
APPENDICES 32Q
Fly, raise the cry, and win the gold.
Or some may cheat you soon ;
And we'll abide by the roadside
And wait the rising moon."
What ails the peasant ? Does he flush
At the wild greed of gold ?
Why seizes he the wanderers' hands?
Hark to his accents bold :
" Ho ! I have a heart for you, neighbours-
Ay, and a hearth and a home —
Ay, and a help for you, neighbours :
God bless ye, and prosper ye — come 1
" Come — out of the light of the soldiers ;
Come in 'mongst the children and all ;
And I'll guard ye for sake of old Ireland
Till Connall himself gets a fall.
" To the devil with all their gold guineas ;
Come in — everything is your own ;
And I'll kneel at your feet, friends of Ireland 1
What I wouldn't for king on his throne.
" God bless ye that stood in the danger.
In the midst of the country's mishap.
That stood up to meet the big famine —
Och ! ye are the men in the gap !
" Come in — ^with a ' Cead mile failte ' ;
Sit down, and don't make any noise.
Till I come with more comforts to crown ye—
Till I gladden the hearts of the boys.
" Arrah ! shake hands again — ^noble fellows
That left your own homes for the poor 1
Not a man in the land could betray you,
Or shut up his heart or his door."
330 MEAGHER OF THE SWORD
III
TWO POEMS BY MEAGHER
Prison Thoughts
Written in Clonmel Gaol, October, 1848
I love, I love these grey old walls !
Although a chilling shadow falls
Along the iron-gated halls.
And in the silent, narrow cells.
Brooding darkly, ever dwells.
Oh ! still I love them — ^for the hours
Within them spent are set with flow'rs
That blossom, spite of wind and show'rs.
And through that shadow, dull and cold.
Emit their sparks of blue and gold.
Bright flowers of ndrth ! — ^that widely spring
From fresh, young hearts, and o'er them fling,
Like Indian birds with sparkling wing.
Seeds of sweetness, grains all glowing.
Sun-gilt leaves, with dew-drops flowing.
And hopes as bright, that softly gleam.
Like stars which o'er the churchyard stream
A beauty on each faded dream —
Mingling the Ught they purely shed
With other hopes, whose light was fled.
Fond mem'ries, too, imdimmed with sighs.
Whose fragrant sunshine never dies.
Whose summer song-bird never flies —
These, too, are chasing, hour by hour.
The clouds which round this prison low'r.
APPENDICES 331
And thus, from hour to hour, I've grown
To love these walls, though dark and lone,
And fondly prize each grey old stone,
Which flings the shadow, deep and chill,
. Across my fettered footsteps still.
Yet let these mem'ries fall and flow
Within my heart, like waves that glow
Unseen in spangled caves below
The foam which frets, the mists which sweep.
The changeful surface of the deep.
Not so the many hopes that bloom
Amid this voiceless waste and gloom.
Strewing my path-way to the tomb.
As though it were a bridal-bed,
And not the prison of the dead.
I would those hopes were traced in fire.
Beyond these waUs — ^above that spire —
Amid yon blue and starry choir,
Whose sounds played round us with the streams
Which glitter in the white moon's beams,
I'd twine those hopes above our Isle,
Above the rath and ruined pile.
Above each glen and rough defile>
The holy well — ^the Druid's shrine —
Above them all those hopes I'd twine.
So should I triumph o'er my fate.
And teach this poor desponding State,
In signs of tenderness, not hate.
Still to think of her old story.
Still to hope for future glory.
Within these walls, those hopes have been
The music sweet, the light serene.
Which softly o'er this silent scene.
Have like the autunrn streamlets flowed.
And like the autumn sunshine glowed.
332 MEAGHER OF THE SWORD
And thus, from hour to hour, I've grown
To love these walls, though dark and lone.
And fondly prize each grey old stone.
That flings the shadow deep and chill.
Across my fettered footsteps still.
The Young Enthusiast
Though young that heart, though free each thought,
Though free and wild each feeUng ;
And though with fire each dream be fraught
Across tlaose bright eyes stealing —
That heart is true, those thoughts are bold :
And bold each feeling sweepeth ;
There lies not there a bosom cold,
A pulse that faintly sleepeth.
His dreams are idiot-dreams, ye say.
The dreams of fairy story :
Those dreams will burn in might one day
And flood his path with glory !
Thou old dull vassal ! fling thy sneer
Upon that young heart coldly.
And laugh at deeds thy heart may fear.
Yet he will venture boldly.
Ay, fling thy sneer, while dull and slow
Thy withered blood is creeping,
That heart will beat, that spirit glow,
When thy tame pulse is sleeping.
Ay, laugh when o'er his country's ills
With manly eye he weepeth ;
Laugh, when his brave heart throbs and thrills,
And thy cold bosom sleepeth.
APPENDICES 333
Laugh, when he vows in heaven's sight,
Never to flinch or falter ;
To toil and fight for a nation's right,
And guard old Freedom's altar.
Ay, laugh when on the fiery wing
Of hero thought ascending.
To fame's bold cliff, with eagle spring.
That young bright mind is tending.
He'll gain that chff, he'll reach that throne,
The throne where genius shineth.
When round and through thy nameless stone.
The green weed thickly twineth.
334 MEAGHER OF THE SWORD
IV
The Petition of the Confederation
During the earlier career of the Irish Confederation
a sub-committee was appointed to draft resolutions
and a petition to the Enghsh Parliament claiming
Repeal of the Union. The members of the sub-
committee vainly tried to draft a petition satisfactory
to themselves and they appealed to Mitchel to get
thern out of the difficulty. He consented and furnished
them with the following petition drafted by himself : —
" To the Honourable the Commons of England
in Parliament Assembled :
" The Petition ot the undersigned Irishmen
" Humbly Sheweth — ^That every people should mind
their own business, and are best fitted to mind their
own business ; and that the people of Ireland, of whom
your petitioners are a few, are quite willing and well
fitted to mind theirs.
" That since the ist of January, 1801, Ireland, the
native land of your petitioners, has been, to its sorrow,
degradation, and misery, ' incorporated ' with the
British Empire.
" That this incorporation was legally effected by a
certain grievous act of your honourable house, called
' An Act for the Union of Great Britain and Ireland ' ;
and in reality by the systems of assassinage, incendieirism,
and subornation, which your honourable house has
always sanctioned as fit means for the extension of
English dominion.
" That since the incorporation aforesaid, in the name
of the act aforesaid, and by means of armed troops,
regular, and of police, spies, placemen, and others (the
means which your honourable house has always approved
for the sustentation of Enghsh dominion), divers persons,
calling themselves successively, the ' Imperial Govern-
ment,' have, to the utmost of their ability, and under
APPENDICES 335
the sanction of your honourable house, abused the
native land of your petitioners for the sole benefit of
the English, and the complete misery of the Irish
people.
" That the accumulated evil-doing of those persons
aforesaid has at length necessarily inflicted upon the
native land of your petitioners famine and pestilence
unprecedented in the world.
" That your petitioners are ignorant of, and indifferent
about, the intentions of these divers persons aforesaid,
forasmuch as they are all of necessity incompetent to
govern the native land of your petitioners, which really
needs to be governed ; and forasmuch as those of them
whose intentions were said to be worst did least ill to
your petitioners' country, fearing to interfere in the
affairs of your petitioners' fellow-countrymen where
they could avoid such interference, and being opposed
tooth and nail by the majority of your petitioners'
fellow-countr5Tnen, on account of their reported in-
tentions, whether their acts were bad or worse ; and
those of them whose intentions were said to be best
did most harm, inasmuch as, at various times, saying
they would ' lay the foundation of most just systems
in,' ' better the condition,' ' improve the lot,' * ex-
tend the happiness,' and the like, of your petitioners'
native country, they were permitted by your petitioners'
simple fellow-countrymen to make divers cruel ex-
periments for such purposes.
" That the incorporation aforesaid of your petitioners'
native country into the British Empire has been
necessarily followed by the incorporation of Irish
labour into the English capitalist, the incorporation of
Irish wealth into the English treasury, the incorpora-
tion of Irish blood into the Enghsh armies, the incorpo-
ration of the Irish flag into the English Jack, and the
incorporation of Irish food into the English stomachs ;
all or any of which incorporations would not be sub-
mitted to by any other people in the world, and are so
cruel and humiliating to your petitioners that your
33& MEAGHER OF THE SWORD
honourable house may well be, since you can safely be,
surprised at our inhuman patience and our unchristian
resignation.
" That, however, self-preservation is a severe necessity.
That of the natives of your petitioners' country not
more than one million are yet starved. And that,
whereas, one John Russell, a grave member of your
honourable house, having rashly said to the remainder
of your petitioners' fellow-countr5nnen (they being now
in a state of direst famine, caused by the English having
devoured their food), ' Help yourselves, and God will
help you,' your petitioners are grievously afraid their
fellow-countrymen will hearken to the advice of the
Honourable John Russell aforesaid, and help themselves,
whether your honourable house will it or no, to their
own food, and their own country, in future.
" Wherefore your petitioners, being peaceable men,
anxious to save the lives of millions of their fellow-
countr3Tnen by obtaining for them the eating of their
own produce, ' peaceably, legally, morally, and con-
stitutionally,' do beseech your honourable house to
repeal the aforesaid act of ' incorporation,' called an
' Act for the Union of Great Britain and Ireland,' in
order that, without offence to your honourable house,
your petitioners' fellow-countrymen may be enabled
to drive the armies of your honourable house, the laws,
and other grievous impositions of your honourable
house, the police, English accent, Manchester clothes,
' felon flag,' and all things English, off the face of their
own country into the sea — an event, for which the
judgment of Heaven, the incompetency and the crimes
of men, are daily preparing the nations of Europe.
" And your petitioners will ever pray."
This petition increased the troubles of the sub-com-^
mittee. " It should be written with red ink," said
Meagher, " and presented on the point of a sword."
Finally the subjoined petition, reluctantly drafted by
Meagher, was agreed upon : —
APPENDICES 337
" To THE Honourable the Commons of England
IN Parliament Assembled : —
" The Petition of the undersigned Irishmen
" Humbly Sheweth — ^That this island was once ruled
by the king, lords and commons of Ireland.
" That under this government the island advanced in
arts, in commerce, and in character.
" That such is the destiny of every country that pre-
serves the faculty of self-government, whether the form
of that government be democratic, mixed, or
monarchical.
" That in the year 1800 this island ceased to be
governed by the king, lords, and commons of Ireland,
and has since been governed, nominally, by the king,
lords, and commons of Great Britain and Ireland —
virtually by the power, and for the benefit, of England
alone.
" That under this new form of government this
island has lost its character, its commerce, and its
food. That such is the fate of every country that does
not possess the right to govern itself. That, deprived
of this right, this island must ever depend upon the
charity of other people — ^be an idler and a bankrupt —
ruined in fortune, in spirit, and in health. That,
deprived of this right, the island has not the power to
act for itself, and will have no guarantee for its
freedom.
" That the country which does not possess this power
is uniformly a beggar, and, if sometimes in wealth, it
is always a slave.
"Therefore, your petitioners pray your honourable
house to restore the ancient form of government to
this kingdom, and enact that it may be for the future
governed by no body of men save the king, lords, and
commons of Ireland.
" And your petitioners will ever pray."
CONTEMPORARIES
Barron, Sir Henry Winston (1795-1872). — ^M.P.
for Waterford, 1832-41, and again, 1848-52 and 1865-
1868. A steady backer of English Government, from
which he received numerous posts for his relatives and
a baronetcy in 1841.
Barry, Michael Joseph (1817-89). — ^Writer of the
Prize Repeal Essay, editor of " The Songs of Ireland "
and author of " The Green Flag " and other martial
verses. A successful barrister, he abandoned the
national cause as hopeless after 1848.
Beresford, Lord George (1773-1862). — Second son
of the first Marquis of Waterford. Subsequent to the
famous Waterford Election he became Archbishop of
Armagh, where he restored the Cathedral.
Blackburne, Francis (1782-1867). — ^A Tory lawyer
of the bitterest type. Administered the infamous In-
surrection Act in Limerick and was subsequently ap-
pointed Lord Chief Justice and finally Lord Chancellor
of Ireland.
Bright, John (1811-89). — EngUsh politician, associ-
ated with Cobden in the leadership of the " Free
Trade " movement. Professed friendship for Ireland,
but opposed Home Rule and voted for Coercion.
Brenan, Joseph (1828-57). — ^The youngest of the
Young Ireland leaders. He attempted to revive the
insurrection in Waterford and Tipperary in 1849 and,
faihng, made his way to America, where he died.
BuRDETT, Sir Francis (1770-1844). — EngUsh Radical
leader. Converted himself to Toryism after the passing
of the Reform Bill.
BusHE, Charles Kendal (1767-1843). — ^A leading
338
CONTEMPORARIES 339
opponent of the Act of Union in the Irish Parliament,
where he represented Callan. Afterwards Chief Justice
of the King's Bench.
Butt, Isaac (1813-79). — ^The intellectual leader of
the Irish Unionists in the Young Ireland period. After-
wards founder of the Home Rule movement as a com-
promise between Repeal and Unionism.
Carleton, Wm. (1794-1869).— Author of " Traits and
Stories of the Irish Peasantry." Son of a Tyrone cottier.
Cavaignac, Louis Eugene, General (1802-57). —
Minister for War in the French Republican Government.
He was prepared to advocate French intervention with
England if the Young Irelanders were successful in
the beginning of the insurrection.
Clarendon, Earl of (1804-70). — English Viceroy in
Ireland, 1846-50. He hired James Birch, an fix-convict
who edited the Dubhn World newspaper, to publish
libels upon the personal characters and public motives
of Mitchel, Meagher and the other prominent Young
Irelanders. Birch, who received £3,400 from the Secret
Service Fund for his assistance, brought an action in
the Law Courts to recover a balance of £7,000 he alleged
to be due. He was subsequently convicted of criminal
libel on a lady and returned to prison.
Cloney, Thomas (1775-1850). — Popularly known as
General Cloney. Son of a gentleman-farmer near Ennis-
corthy. He took a leading part in the insurrection.
On its conclusion he was arrested, courtmartialled and
condemned to death, but reprieved through the influence
of several Wexford political enemies whom he had
protected from violence when they were in the hands
of the insurgents. He was kept in prison for a con-
siderable period and again arrested and imprisoned
after Emmet's insurrection.
CoBDEN, Richard (1804-65). — Leader of the English
■' Free Trade " movement under which the English
mercantile interest successfully wrested poUtical power
from the EngUsh landed interest.
340 MEAGHER OF THE SWORD
Davis, Francis (1810-85). — Author of a considerable
amount of verse, published under the pseudonym of
" The Belfastman," some of which appeared in the
Nation. Davis was by birth a Cork man, but he carried
on his trade as a working weaver in Belfast, where he
passed most of his life.
Davis, Thomas (1814-45). — Founder of the Young
Ireland movement, and chief writer of the Nation
newspaper from its inception until his death.
Delahunty, James (1808-80 ?). — An Alderman of
Waterford and some time Coroner and City Treasurer.
Leader of the baser section of the local O'Connellites.
Afterwards for a period Whig M.P. for Waterford City,
and later for Waterford County.
Denison, Sir Wm. (1804-71). — Brother of Evelyn
Denison, Speaker of the English House of Commons.
Denison was sent from Australasia to India, where he
opposed all vestige of self-government for the Indians,
Devereux, John. — General of the Irish Legion in
Bolivar's Army of Independence. Devereux was styled
by Paez the Lafayette of South America.
Dillon, John Blake (1816-66). — A barrister from
the West of Ireland, associated with Davis and Duffy
in starting the Nation newspaper. On his return from
exile he fell under the influence of John Bright and his
school, and unsuccessfully attempted to found an Irish
Parliamentary Party to co-operate with the English
Radicals.
Disraeli, Benjamin (1804-81). — ^Enghsh Radical,
Young Englander and Tory poUtician. Twice Premier
of England.
Doheny, Michael (1805-61). — SoHcitor and Law Ad-
viser to the borough of Cashel. He escaped after the
insurrection to France and thence to the United States,
where he joined O'Mahony and Stephens in founding
the Fenian movement.
DOHERTY, John (1783-1850). — Chief Justice of the
Common Pleas ; a DubUn barrister of mediocre legal
knowledge but remarkable powers of debate, elected
CONTEMPORARIES 341
to the British Parliament in 1824 and created Solicitor-
General through the influence of his relative, George
Canning. Doherty gambled in railway shares and
losing heavily, died of depression.
DuNCOMBE, Thomas (1796-1861).— English Radical
politician. He presented the Chartist petition in 1842,
and assisted in Louis Napoleon's escape from Ham.
Duffy, Charles Gavan (1816-1903).— One of the
founders of the Nation, and its editor from 1842 to 1854,
when he went to Australia, where he became Prime
Minister of Victoria and was afterwards knighted.
Ebeington, Lord (1783-1861).— English Lord
Lieutenant of Ireland, 1839-41.
Grey, Earl (1802-94). — Colonial Secretary in the
British Government of 1846-52.
Grey, Sir George (1792-1882). — English Home
Secretary under Russell and Palmerston, He un-
successfully attempted to turn the Cape into an EngUsh
penal colony.
Grogan, Edward. — Unionist M.P. for Dublin for a
quarter of a century ; first elected in 1841. He was
created a baronet for his services.
Halpin, Thomas M. — ^A Dubhn artisan who acted
as Secretary of the Confederation. Halpin denied re-
ceiving the instructions for the Dublin Confederates,
which Meagher asserts in his Narrative of 1848 he gave
him. Investigation acquits Halpin of either treachery
or cowardice and points to a misunderstanding between
Meagher and himself. He appears, however, to have
been lacking in the energy and initiative necessary in
the crisis. After the insurrection he made his way to
the United States.
Haughton, James (1795-1873). — A Carlow Quaker
and Humanitarian politician. He was a member of
the Repeal Association, and to an extent in sympathy
with the Young Irelanders. Attempting to force
342 MEAGHER OF THE SWORD
Mitchel and Meagher after their arrival in America to
" declare themselves against African slavery," he
evoked the controiversy between Mitchel and Henry
Ward Beecher in which Mitchel upheld the case of
the Southern States.
HOGAN, John (1800-58). — One of the five great
sculptors of the nineteenth century. The Repeal Cap
worn by O'Connell was modelled by Hogan and Henry
MacManus, the painter, from the Irish crown.
Hollywood, Edward (1814-73. — ^A leader of the
Dublin artisans. He escaped after the failure of the
insurrection to France, where he worked as a silk-
weaver for some years. Subsequently he returned to
Dublin, where he died.
Holmes, Robert (1765- 1859). — ^Brother-in-law of
Robert Emmet. He refused to accept promotion at
the Bar while the Act of Union between Great Britain
and Ireland was upheld as legal.
Kenyon, Father John (18 69).— Curate and
subsequently Parish Priest of Templederry in Tipperary.
A vigorous writer and a strong and bitter opponent of
Daniel O'Connell, whose policy he regarded as cowardly
and corrupt. He was, with the exception of John Martin,
the most intimate of Mitchel's friends.
Lalor, James Fintan (1810-49). — ^Son of Patrick
Lalor, M.P., of Leix, one of the little handful of Irish
M.P.'s who did not sell their Repeal principles for place
or patronage. Lalor's agrarian doctrine, first enunciated
in the Nation, exerted a strong influence on the subse-
quent history of the Irish Land War. In 1849 Lalor
was concerned with Brenan, Savage and others in an
attempt to rekindle the insurrection.
Lamartine, Alphonse de (1790-1869).— Minister for
Foreign Affairs in the French Republican Government
of 1848.
Lawless. Hon. Cecil. — Son of Lord Cloncurry and
a strong O'Connellite opponent of the Young Irelanders.
CONTEMPORARIES 343
Ledru-Rollin, Alexandre de (1808-74). — Minister
of the Interior in the French Republican Government
of 1848. He was a strong sympathiser with Ireland,
to which he was connected by marriage, and favoured
French intervention against England.
Louis Philippe {1773-1850). — Son of Philippe EgaUte
and half-brother of Pamela, wife of Lord Edward
Fitzgerald. King of the French from 1830 to 1848.
Louis Napoleon (1808-73). — Nephew of the great
Napoleon and subsequently Napoleon III. In 1848 he
was inclined to French intervention on Ireland's be-
half if the insurrection won initial engagements against
the EngUsh army in Ireland.
Macaulay, Lord (1800-59). — ^The most briUiant and
superficial of the English Whig writers of the nineteenth
century. Except Froude, he is the most unreliable of
modern English historians. ^
Martin, John (1812-75). — Brother-in-law of John
Mitchel. Sentenced to ten years' transportation in
1848 for treason-felony. After his return to Ireland he
took part in the foundation of the Home Rule movement.
Maunsell, Dr. — One of the Dublin Conservative
leaders, and a member of the Dublin Corporation. He
advocated a Rotatory Parliament — i.e., the sitting of
the British Parliament alternately in "London, Dublin
and Edinburgh.
M'Gee, Thomas D'Arcy (1825-68).— The son of a
Louth Coastguard, he emigrated to the United States
as a boy, where before he was twenty years of age he
won a high reputation as a journalist. On his return to
Ireland he joined the Freeman staff and later that of the
Nation. He escaped disguised as a priest to the United
States, after the failure of the insurrection, and subse-
quently quarrelled With most of his former colleagues in
the Young Ireland movement and considerably altered
his views on the relations of Ireland and England.
Going to Canada, he entered politics there and became a
member of the Canadian Government. He was assas-
344 MEAGHER OF THE SWORD
sinated in 1868 and his bitter denunciations of the
Fenian movement led to the crime being charged
against the Fenian Brotherhood. Although the assassin
was alleged to be a Fenian, local political hatred of M'Gee
seems to have been the active motive of the deed.
MacHai-E, Dr. John (1791-1881). — Archbishop of
Tuam, and the greatest of the Irish Bishops of the
nineteenth century.
MacManus, Terence Bellew (1823-60). — ^A
prosperous Irish merchant in Liverpool, who left his
business and crossed over to Ireland to join the
insurrection. He escaped from the English penal colonies
to San Francisco, where he died in poor circumstances.
Melbourne, Viscount (1779-1848). — EngUsh Chief
Secretary for Ireland, 1827-28, and subsequently
Premier of England.
MiTCHEL, John (1815-75). — Chief writer of the
Nation newspaper from the death of Davis until the end
of 1847, when he left it to estabUsh the United Irishman,
in which he preached passive and active resistance to
the English Government in Ireland. To crush him that
institution rushed through its Parliament the " Treason
Felony Act," under which certain political offences were
made felonious. Mitchel was put on trial before a jury
composed of Enghshmen, Castle tradesmen and members
of the Orange Lodge, convicted and sentenced to four-
teen years' transportation. At the end of five years he
escaped to America, and continued the imrelenting
enemy of Irish compromise with England vmtil his
death.
MoNAHAN, James Henry (1804-78). — A man of poor
origin and indifferent legal talents, appointed Attorney-
General for Ireland in 1848, and subsequently Chief
Justice of the Common Pleas. He arranged the packing
of John Mitchel's jury.
Monteagle, Lord (1790-1866). — ^Thomas Spring-
Rice, first Baron. Whig M.P. for Limerick, and later
for Cambridge. He was chosen by the English Govern-
ment to reply to O'Connell's Motion for Repeal of the
CONTEMPORARIES 345
Union. After being Chancellor of the Exchequer in
Melbourne's second English administration, he sought
and lost the Speakership of the Enghsh Commons but
was consoled with a peerage.
Murphy, Serjeant (1810-60). — One of the Fraserians
or writers for " Frazer's Magazine." M.P. for Cork,
1837-53, in which year he was appointed a Commissioner
of Bankruptcy by the English Government.
NoRMANBY, Marquis of (1797-1863). — ^Lord Lieu-
tenant of Ireland, 1835-39. Distributed soft words
amongst the O'ConneUites in return for their support
of his Government, and intrigued in France in 1848 to
prevent assistance being given to Ireland.
O'Brien, Wm. Smith (1803-64). — Second son of Sir
Edward O'Brien. He entered the British Parliament
as an Irish Unionist, but after some years joined the
Repealers, and sided with Young Ireland in its opposi-
tion to placehunting which led to the split with O'Connell.
After lus release from transportation he visited Greece
and America.
O'Connell, Daniel (1775-1847). — Successor to John
Keogh in the leadership of the movement for Catholic
Emancipation. After the passing of the Catholic Rehef
Act he started a movement for Repeal of the Union,
but shortly afterwards abandoned it and co-operated
for a period with the Enghsh Whigs. On the return of
the Tories to power he resuscitated the Repeal Move-
ment ; but when the Whigs regained office he agreed to
put the demand for Repeal in abeyance and secure the
support of Ireland for the Enghsh Liberal Government
in return for promised remedial legislation and patronage.
This led to the revolt of the Young Irelanders against
his leadership.
O'Connell, John (1810-58).— The chief political
assistant to his father, Daniel O'Connell, and the bitterest
of the Irish pohtical enemies of the Young Irelanders.
After the final collapse of the Repeal Association, he
received a place from the English Government.
346 MEAGHER OF THE SWORD
O'CoNNELL, Daniel, Junior (1815-97).— O'Connell's
youngest son. He received two lucrative appointments
from the English Government.
O'CoNOR Don, The (1794-1847).— An O'Connellite
Rfpeal M.P. for Roscommon. He deserted to the
English Government and was made a Lord of the
Treasury.
O'DOHERTY, Kevin Izod (1823-95). — ^A Dublin
medical student who helped to found, and contributed
to, the Irish Tribune newspaper, which took the place of
Mitchel's United Irishman in 1848. Transported under
the Treason Felony Act he subsequently settled in
Australia where he became prominent in science and
politics.
O'DoNOGHUE, Patrick (18 54). — A Dublin Law-
Clerk and one of the most active of the leaders
of the Dublin Confederates. He died in New
York.
O'Flaherty, Anthony.— ^Defeated by four votes in
the exciting Galway election of 1847, O'Flaherty was
returned some months later and sat in the English
Parliament until 1857, when, although again €lected, he
was unseated on petition. O'Flaherty for some years
acted the part of an honest representative, but he
eventually became associated with the infamous " Brass
Barfd," led by SadUer and Keogh.
O'GoRMAN, Richard, Jun. (1826-95). — ^Son of a
wealthy Dublin woollen merchant and stockbroker,
who had been one of the leaders of the fight for CathoUc
Emancipation. O'Gorman, after the failure of 1848,
escaped to the Continent and thence, later, went to the
United States, where he became a Judge of the Superior
Court of New York.
O'LoGHLEN, Sir Colman (1819-77). — Son of the
Master of the Rolls, and afterwards M.P. for Clare.
O'Mahony, John (1816-77). — ^A Tipperary gentle-
man-farmer of ancient lineage and high scholarship.
In the United States he founded, with Michael Doheny
and James Stephens, the Fenian movement.
CONTEMPORARIES 347
O'Neill, John Augustus. — Of Bunowen Castle.
One of O'Connell's henchmen in Concihation Hall,
O'Reilly, Eugene {18 74). — ^A Meath Young
Ireland leader who planned to seize Navan with the
aid of the Dublin Confederates and raise an insurrection
in Meath and Westmeath. After the miscarriage of his
plan he abandoned hope of Irish independence, went to
the Continent, entered the Turkish service, fought with
distinction through the Crimean War and died at Fez
O'Reilly Pasha.
Peel, Sir Robert (1788-1850). — Chief Secretary for
Ireland and subsequently Premier of England. He or-
ganised the Governmental police force in Ireland — hence
known by the people as " peelers." ■
Phillips, Charles (1787-1859). — ^Author of " Curran
and his Contemporaries." An ornate orator. He was
appointed Commissioner of the Insolvent Debtors'
Court of London in 1846.
Palmerston, Lord (1784-1865). — Foreign Secretary
in Lord John Russell's Government, 1846-51, and after-
wards Prime Minister.
Plunket, Lord (1764-1854). — M.P. for Charlemont
in the Irish Parliament and one of the Anti-Unionist
leaders. Afterwards Lord Chancellor of Ireland.
Porter, Grey.— Unionist High Sheriff of Fermanagh.
Indignant at the neglect of Irish interests and the con-
tinued invasion of Irish rights by the English Govern-
ment, he proposed the formation of an Irish MiUtia to
defend the National position. Davis's " Song for the
Irish Mihtia " was inspired by Porter's proposal.
Ray, Thomas Matthew (1801-81). — Secretary to
O'Connell's Repeal Association. Subsequently received
a place from the English Government.
Reilly, Thomas Devin (1823-54). — ^ member of
he Nation staff and afterwards chief assistant to
Mitchel as editor of the United Irishman. After the
failure of the insurrection, he escaped to America
where he died.
348 MEAGHER OF THE SWORD
RussELt, Lord John (1792-1878). — Premier of Eng-
land, 1846-52, and again in 1865. He was responsible
for the Famine legislation and successfully opposed
Lord George Bentinck's proposal to employ those
threatened by famine on the construction of Irish rail-
roads. '
Shiel, Richard Lalor (1791-1852). — One of the
leaders of the Catholic Emancipation movement, and
for a time of the early Repeal movement, which he
abandoned, describing it as "a splendid phantom,"
for place under the English Government.
Smyth, P. J. (1826-85). — ^The most intimate of
Meagher's colleagues in the Young Ireland movement.
Smyth was the son of a prosperous Dublin manufacturer.
He escaped to the United States after the collapse of
the insurrection and afterwards successfully carried out
the rescue of John Mitchel from Van Diemen's Land.
In after years he sat in the British Parliament for
Westmeath and subsequently for Tipperary.
Staunton, Michael. — ^A DubUn Alderman and one
time Lord Mayor, Proprietor of the Morning Register
newspaper, a Whiggish organ in which Davis's first
political writings appeared.
Steele, Tom (1788-1848).— " Head Pacificator" of
Conciliation Hall. A Protestant gentleman of Clare who
supported O'Connell in the famous Clare election and
became devotedly attached to him. For many years
before his death Steele suffered from weakening intellect.
After the death of O'Connell he attempted to drown
himself.
Stephens, James (1825-1901). — One of the Kil-
kenny Confederates. After the failure of the insurrec-
tion he escaped to the Continent and subsequently
founded, with Doheny and O'Mahony, the Fenian
Brotherhood.
Stuart, Villiers (1803-74). — ^Henry Villiers Stuart,
grandson of the Earl of Bute, afterwards created Lord
Stuart de Decies.
CONTEMPORARIES 349
Stock, Serjeant. — John Stock, M.P. for Cashel,
1838-46, when he was appointed Judge of the Ad-
miralty Court.
Waterford, Marquis of (1811-59). — Meagher's re-
ferences are intended for the third, not the second
Marquis, who died in 1826. The third Marquis, who
devoted himself to sport, was killed by a fall from his
horse in 1859.
Whiteside, James (1804-76). — Leading counsel for
many of the State prisoners in 1848. Afterwards Lord
Chief Justice in succession to Lefroy.
Williams, Richard Dalton (1822-62). — One of the
poets of the Nation and a chief contributor of its squibs
and humorous verse. The Government failed to secure
his conviction for treason-felony. After 1848 he went
to the United States, where he became Professor of
Belles Lettres at the University of Mobile.
Wyse, Sir Thomas (1791-1892). — One of the leaders
of the Catholic Association, of which he wrote a history.
He afterwards took office from the Enghsh Government
and acted for many years as British Minister to Greece,
INDEX HOMINUM
Albert the Workman, 155.
Aldham, Captain, 236-8, 242-
243-
Aylmer, William, 271.
Bandiera Brothers, The, 155.
Barron Quarry, 304.
Barron, Sir Henry Winston,
xii, 289-go, 299, 338.
Barry, Michael Joseph, 45, 313,
319, 338-
Beecher, Henry Ward, 342.
" Bell, Old," 304-6.
Beresford, Lord George, 292,
338.
Berkeley, Bishop, 88.
Birch, James, 338.
Blackburne, Lord Chief Justice,
XV, 170-2, 219-20, 338.
Bolivar, Simon, 293, 340.
Boyton, Rev. Charles, 114, 115.
Brenan, Joseph, xiv, 338, 342.
Bright, John, 25, 338, 340.
Browne, Michael, 310.
Burdett, Sir Francis, 54, 118,
338.
Bushe, Charles Kendal, 56,
338-39.
Butt, Isaac, 121, 122, 325, 338.
Byrne, Edward, iv.
Byrne, Father, 221, 229.
Byron, Lord, 53.
Campion, Dr., 328.
Cantwell, James, xiv.
Carleton, William, 289, 339.
Carlyle, Thomas, 91.
Castlereagh, Lord, 73, 74, 80.
Cavaignac, General, xii, 339.
Cavanagh, John, xv.
Charlemont, Lord, 65, 94, 307.
Clare, Lord, 10, 54, 73.
Clarendon, Lord, 116, 153, 339.
Cleburne, General Patrick, xvi-
Cloncurry, Lord, x, 342.
Cloney, General, 207, 208, 338
Cobden, Richard, 25, 339.
Cooper, the Shepherd, 254-55.
Costello, Patrick, xii.
Cunningham, D. P., xv.
Danton, 97.
Davis, Thomas, v, xviii, 7, 15,
52, 65, 74. 133-34. 137-38,
307. 325. 340. 346. 348.
Davis, Francis, 124, 340.
Delahunty, James, xii, 285-86,
295. 34°-
Denison, Evelyn, 340.
Denison, Sir William, 242-45,
258-60, 262-64, 34°-
Devereux, General, 293, 340.
Dillon, John Blafie, xiv, 175,
176, 180-84, 189, 218, 220,
221, 233-4, 340.
Disraeli, Benjamin, 48, 340.
Dobbyn, Stephenson (spy),
178-80.
Doheny, Michael, xiv-xv, 184,
319, 340. 346. 348.
Doherty, Lord Chief Justice,
XV, 170-72, 340-41.
Duffy, Charles Gavan, xv, 33,
173. 177-8. 181, 183, 184,
191. 253, 323, 325, 340-41.
Dumouriez, General, 127.
Duncombe, Thomas, 31, 341.
Ebrington, Lord, 9, 80, 341.
Emmet, Robert, xvii, 133, 339,
342.
Esmonde, Dr., 272.
Eva, 282.
Fawkes, Guy, 125.
Fitzgerald, Lord Edward, 133,
343-
350
INDEX HOMINUM
351
Fitzpatrick, James, 16-19.
Flood, Henry, to.
Foran, Bishop, 287
Foster, John, 59.
Franklin, Benjamin, 40, 152.
Genlis, Madame de, 136
George III, King, 152.
George IV, King, 283.
Grattan, Henry, 6, 31, 54, 59,
65, 72. 85, 93. 94. 124. 143-
Grey, Earl, 7, 341.
Grey, Sir George, 243, 340.
Grogan, Sir Edward, 81, 341.
Guizot, M., 100.
Halpin, Thomas M., 184, 191-
192, 341-
Hampden, John, 100.
Hampton, Dr., 261, 264.
Hart, Charles, 185, 193, 196-
98.
Haughton, James, 47, 341.
Hofer, Andreas, 101.
Hogan, John, 65, 343.
Holljrwood, Edward, xii, 174,
342-
Holmes, Robert, zS, 342.
James II, King, 139, 282.
Kearney, Father, 273-79.
Kelly, Bishop, 292.
Kenny, Dr. Peter, 293.
Kenyon, Father, 180-81, 342
Keogh, John, iv, 345.
Keogh, Judge, 346.
Kosciusko, 132.
Lafayette, 136.
Lalor, James Fintan, 181, 196,
342-
Lalor, Patrick, M.P., 342.
Lamartine, xii, 97, 150, 342.
Lawless, Hon. Cecil, 42, 342.
Lawless, John, 185, 193.
Lawlor, Shea, 47.
Lee, General, xvi.
Ledru-RoUin, Alexandre de,
xii, 343.
Lefroy, Lord Chief Justice, 349.
Le5me, Maurice, xv, 320-28.
Lind, Jenny, 214.
Louis, Philippe, King, 131,
13&-37. 343-
Louis XVI, King, 155.
Louis Napoleon, xii, 343.
Lucas, Charles, 65.
Macaulay, Lord, 57-58, 243.
MacHale, Archbishop, 69, 344.
MacManus, Henry, 342.
Maher, John, 185, 197-8.
Martin, John, 47-48, 177-78,
183-84, 191, 247, 254, 257-
259, 262, 342-43.
Mason and Slidell, xvii.
Maunsell, Dr., 120-21, 343.
Melbourne, Lord, 11, 344-45,
Meagher, Thomas, Sen., iv, xii,
14. 32,98,174. 219, 284-85,
287,289.
M'Gee, Thomas D'Arcy, 47,
149, 181, 189-91, 343-44.
Mirabeau, 136.
Mitchel, John, viii, xi-xiii, xvii,
27. 42, 45. 103, 130-38, 157.
162-169, 177-78, 183, 309-
10, 313, 323, 334, 339, 342-
44. 347-48.
M'Manus, Terence Bellew, xiv,
XV, 172, 235-47, 253-57,
320-28, 344.
Molyneux, William, 63, 125.
Monahan, Lord Chief Justice,
viii, 67-77, 310-12, 316, 319,
344'
Monteagle, Lord, 57, 344-45.
Montgomery, Martin, 57.
Moore, Thomas, 65.
Murphy, Serjeant, 23, 345.
Nairn, Mr., 242-5.
Napier, General Sir Charles,
xvi.
Nash, James, 286-92, 304.
Nolan, Bishop, 275-79.
Normanby, Marquis of, 8, 68,
345-
O'Brien, Sir Edward, 346.
O'Brien, Wm. Smith, xii-xiii,
XV, 43-44. 47. 58, 64, 157,
176, 180, 183-85, 191, 197-
352
MEAGHKR OF THE SWORD
218, 220-31, 233-54, *6o-
266, 323, 325, 345.
O'Connell, Daniel, v-vi, viii,
ix, XV, 21, 26, 32-3, 42, 44-
45, 47-49, 52, 60, 97, 103,
139, 141-43, 280, 283, 288,
293, 342, 345, 348-
O Connell, Daniel, Jun., xii,
346.
O'Connell, John, vii, 26, 34,
37, 42-44, 95, 97, 345-
O'Conor Don, The, 116, 346.
O'Doherty, Kevin Izod, 177-
178, 184, 247, 254, 256-57,
262, 346.
O'Donoghue, Patrick, xiv-xv,
172, 235-247, 253, 257-59,
320-328, 346.
O'Flaherty, Anthony, 308, 346.
O'Gorman, Richard, 44-45, 92,
103, 174-76, 181, 184, 319,
346.
O'Gorman, Richard, Sen., iv,
184, 346.
O'Loghlen, Sir Colman, 256,
346-
O'Mahony, John, xiv, 221,
224-27, 340. 346, 348-
O'Neill, John Augustus, 42, 347.
O'Reilly, Eugene 174, 347.
O'Ryan, Dr. Anthony, 323.
Palmerston, Ix>rd, 153, 341,
347-
Parle, Father, 200, 201.
Peel, Sir Robert, 6, 60, 123,
347-
Phillips, Charles, 286, 347.
Pigot, John E,, vi.
Ktt, William, 53-5, 67, 112,
115, 118.
Pius IX, 51, 155.
Plunket, Lord, 54, 59, 85, 347.
Porter, Grey, 117, 347.
Ray, Thomas Matthew, 47, 347
Reilly, Thqmas Devin, xiv,
130, 181, 184, 311, 347.
Roche, Father, 312, 319.
Rockingham, Marquis of, 124.
Ross of Bladensburg, 136.
Rowan, Archibald Hamilton,
272.
Russell, Lord, 100.
Russell, Lord John, vi, xvi, 6,
11-12, 30-31, 60, 68, 72, 74,
80. 99, 334, 341, 346, 348-
Sadleir, John, 346.
Sarsfield, Patrick, 65, 159.
Saurin, William, 85.
Savage, John, 342.
Sheehan, Father John, 294-95.
Shell, Richard Lalor, xii, 14,
22, 31, 75-76, 280, 286, 293,
348.
Shelley, Percy Bysshe, 284.
Sheridan, Richard Brinsley, 54,
118.
Smyth, Patrick Joseph, 175-8,
183-84, 192, 348.
Soyer, M., x.
Staunton, Michael, 116, 348.
Steele, Tom, 318, 348.
Stephens, James, xiv-xv, 340,
346, 348-
Stock, Serjeant, 23, 349.
Strongbow, 79, 145, 282.
Stuart, Henry Villiers, 289,
292-3, 295, 348.
Sweetman, John, iv.
Swift, Jonathan, 65, 74, 94.
Tone, Theobald Wolfe, 74, 271,
307-
Tiemey, George, 118.
Vergniaud, Pierre, 136.
Victoria, Queen, 86, 152.
Wallace, Sir William, loo.
Washington, George, 40.
Waterford, Marquis of, 295,
299, 349-
Whiteside, Lord Chief Justice,
219, 349-
William III, King, 139, 306.
Williams, Richard D'Alton,
177-78, 184, 349.
Wright, T. D., xv.
Wyse, Sir Thomas, 289-90,
293, 297, 349-
TVNews
OpenLibrary