BIOGRAPHY: GERARD LYNEreviews Liberator: The Life and Death of Daniel O'Connell – 1830-47By Patrick M Geoghegan Gill and Macmillan, 291pp, €26.50
IN THIS second and final volume of his biography of Daniel O’Connell, Patrick M Geoghegan adheres in the main to a chronological rather than thematic format. The reader is presented with a rapidly shifting kaleidoscope of assorted episodes in the Liberator’s career that serves Geoghegan’s intention of producing “a study focused intensely on the character of O’Connell” – even to the exclusion of wider issues.
Geoghegan steers us with consummate skill through the labyrinth of the political and other controversies and scandals that make up O’Connell’s story, opening with his entry into parliament.
There is a close analysis of some of his parliamentary speeches, and it may come as a surprise that he was not an unqualified success. He spoke too often – sometimes with a passion alien to the tone of the house – and heaped verbal abuse on his enemies. His roles as British parliamentarian and Irish agitator did not sit comfortably together. Apart from O’Connell’s strong sense of the injustices suffered by Ireland, he had at all times to play to his power base back home. In a predominantly conservative assembly, many members of which harboured strong anti-Irish and anti-Catholic prejudices, he found himself in a no-win situation. His speeches were increasingly ignored or (as he claimed) misquoted in the English press, and herein lay the origin of his bitter feud with the powerful Times newspaper, which was to hound him viciously for the remainder of his career.
Nevertheless, many of his performances were magnificent. A case in point was the dauntless rearguard action he fought against the draconian Irish coercion bill of 1833. Barracked and goaded on every side of the house, he continued, night after night, to fight the measure, clause by clause.
Geoghegan sees as one of his finest speeches that delivered in 1834 on his motion in favour of repeal of the union. Given, however, that it lasted more than five hours, it must sorely have tested the stamina and patience of his audience. In the cramped, crowded, badly ventilated old House of Commons, one can only marvel at the Liberator’s performance. He puts our twittering politicians of today in perspective.
O’Connell’s readiness, when it suited his purpose, to publish private official conversations and correspondence made British ministers distrust him. and his refusal to give satisfaction in the field to the victims of his abuse led to accusations of his being a coward as well as a bully. This was unjustified. O’Connell proved his physical courage when he met and killed the champion of the Dublin Orange faction, Charles Norcot D’Esterre, who was renowned as a crack shot. His opposition to duelling had a genuine moral basis. It ultimately contributed, also, to the decline of that outmoded practice.
Throughout the 1830s he oscillated between repeal and reform as solutions to Ireland’s problems. He blew alternately hot and cold on both but ultimately opted for a prolonged alliance with the Whig ministry of Lord Melbourne. The alliance bore some fruit for Ireland. The problem of tithes (a chronic source of popular violence) was resolved by legislation in 1838. A limited measure of corporation reform was granted in 1840. Progress was made in addressing the problems of partisan magistrates and juries, and Catholics were appointed to some important posts. O’Connell himself, however, to his great credit, repeatedly refused to be bought off with high office.
All this was insufficient to offset popular disappointment, exacerbated by controversies and scandals. (In the latter context, Geoghegan rightly maintains an open mind on the subject of O’Connell’s alleged womanising and the notorious case of Ellen Courtenay, his dubious albeit disturbing accuser, who claimed she had had a son by him and had been left destitute afterwards.)
O’Connell’s popularity steadily declined. The author skilfully brings home to us the innate greatness of the man, a lonely, elderly widower, his reputation in tatters and personal finances in disarray, turning – undaunted by popular indifference – to his last mighty effort for repeal of the union. Some information might, however, have been given on the anti-tithe movement (a central issue of the 1830s) and on O’Connell’s political organisations of the period.
An admirably clear and balanced account of the disputes between O’Connell and the Young Irelanders is provided. There is a valuable separate section on O’Connell and slavery. He initially accepted repeal subscriptions from American slave owners (some of them Irish) but then, in response to lobbying from abolitionists, refused them. According to Geoghegan, this was “a key factor” in alienating the Young Irelanders, who wished to avoid offending foreign powers. (At least one of them, John Mitchell, was later to become an ardent supporter of slavery.)
Some of the detail of monster repeal meetings might, perhaps, have been omitted. The same could be said for witticisms of the period, which have not worn well. A synopsis of debates and dialogue might, in some cases, have been preferable to reproduction verbatim. But these are quibbles.
The style is graceful and economical, the language clear; only one or two infelicities occur. Geoghegan has drawn on a wide range of source material, including some little-known contemporary published works. An added attraction is a selection of graphic illustrations, some of them unfamiliar to this reviewer. It all lends commendable freshness to a subject that has already been covered at length by historians. For a fresh, lively, informative study of the great Dan, this volume, no less than its predecessor, is heartily recommended.
Gerard Lyne is a former keeper of manuscripts at the National Library of Ireland. He is assistant editor of The Correspondence of Daniel O’Connell, ed Maurice R O’Connell