Burial of Curran, Sir Robert Peel, "Watty" Cox.

Chapter IV.

Curran fell with the leaves in October, 1817, and passed away in the bitter blasts which swept over the graveyard. “I fear you cough with more difficulty this morning,” said the English doctor who saw him in his last illness. “That is strange,” replied the dying man; “for I have been practising all night.” They laid him in Paddington cemetery, near London; but his closing thoughts were given to the land he had served. “The last duties will he paid by that country on which they are devolved,” he said; “nor will it be for charity that a little earth will be given to my bones. Tenderly will those duties be paid, as the debt of well-earned affection and of gratitude not ashamed of her tears.” [“Life of Curran”; by his Son, vol. ii., p.]

Twenty years had passed away, during which time he slept amid the roar of a great city - his last wish not yet fulfilled. The time had now come when the Mother Earth of Ireland fondly claimed her own. On December 1st, 1834, his son and biographer, William Henry Curran, thus responded to the request made by the Committee of Glasnevin Cemetery:-

“At the period of my father’s death, it was very much upon me that the duty and responsibility of disposing of his remains devolved. Upon that occasion I was not without a natural anxiety in reference to him, merely as a departed relative, that the land of his birth should be his final resting-place; and I further was assured that this feeling could not be indulged to excess in respect of one who, having risen from amongst the people, and lived in dishonest times, had firmly and to the end resisted every temptation to turn upon those from whom he had sprung, thereby establishing for his memory in the hearts of his countrymen a strong and general wish amounting to a right that what remained of him should be among them.

“But difficulties - some of them legal ones, and needless now to be specified or disclosed - intervened, and accordingly, at the time to the best of my judgment, but sorely against my feelings as son and countryman, I acquiesced in the arrangement by which his remains were committed to their present place of deposit. I did so, however, under a persuasion that deposit there would be only temporary; and the particular place was selected with a view to the facility of removal whenever it might be demanded by his country.” *

Contretemps *once more came to delay the payment of a sacred debt. The late Andrew Carew O’Dwyer, a charming gentleman and most persuasive orator, had long cherished the hope of seeing the remains of Curran restored to Ireland, and could not understand why any difficulty should arise in attaining this end. Some of the difficulties and delays are accounted for in the following graphic letter from O’Dwyer to the late W. J. Fitz-Patrick:-

“Magnificent burial places - in which the dust of Protestants and Catholics might mingle, sanctified, too, by the ceremonials of the faith in which the followers of each religion had lived and died - were established in the metropolis,” writes O’Dwyer; and with funds raised from the operations of this scheme the Cemetery Committee, amongst other honourable works, undertook the pious duty of transferring the remains of Curran to Ireland. This was attended with some difficulty and consider able expense. It was necessary to obtain a faculty from the Consistorial Court to warrant the proceeding. The body however, being exhumed, and the necessary arrangements having been accomplished, under the direction of an eminent undertaker, with the consent of the late Alderman Sir M. Wood it was removed to his house in George Street Westminster where it lay for one night, I think, and was then transferred to Ireland, in charge of a worthy man deputed to superintend the arrangements; and being on its arrival received by Mr. W. H. Curran and Mr. O’Kelly, a zealous member of the committee was deposited temporarily in the mausoleum at Lyons the residence of Curran’s intimate friend, Lord Cloncurry, and it was finally removed, attended by W. H. Curran, John Finlay, Con Lyne (who was one of the mourners at the funeral when it took place originally at Paddington), and myself, to a grave prepared for its reception at Glasnevin, where it now reposes.

“There were some circumstances attendant on the removal of the remains from the mausoleum at Lyons to the cemetery which invested the proceedings with a melancholy interest. It was on a very gloomy day of November that the remains were removed with strict privacy to Dublin. Towards night and as place in the metropolis, the weather was marked with peculiar severity; the rain fell in torrents, and a violent storm howled, whilst the darkness was relieved occasionally by vivid lightning, accompanied by peals of thunder. This added much to the solemnity of the scene as we passed slowly through the streets, from which the violence of the night had driven almost all persons. As we approached the cemetery, where groups of workmen, by the aid of torches, were engaged in making the necessary preparation for the deposit of the remains, the scene became most impressive and affecting; and after a brief period of delay, during which all around stood with uncovered heads as the body of the great Irishman was lowered to its place of final repose, the scene was marked by every feature of a grand and impressive picture of devotion. A magnificent monument of granite, from the design of Papworth, on the model of the tomb of Scipio Barbatus, at Rome, with the simple and impressive inscription of the name, ‘Curran,’ is placed over the remains. The cost of this erection, as well as of a beautiful monument, with a medallion likeness in relief, in St. Patrick’s Cathedral, Dublin, the work of the sculptor, Moore, was defrayed by a public subscription, to which John Finlay, J. R. Corballis, and myself were trustees. The officers of the Cathedral of St. Patrick, who were entitled to certain fees on the erection of this monument, generously claimed to add the amount of these fees to the common object.”

The spectacle was, indeed, a grand one, recalling the burial of Addison by torchlight. It had been proposed that it should have been public, and performed amid all the pageantry of a national procession. To this, however, neither the good taste nor the good feeling of young Curran would assent. Thus, at length, at the end of many years, were verified the prophetic words of Curran, quoted at the beginning of this chapter.

Shortly after the interment of Curran’s remains at Glasnevin, his younger son, Henry Grattan Curran some of whose lyrics appear in the “Ballad Poetry of Ireland” - was unanimously elected a member of the committee. By the minutes of their meeting on June 5th, 1837, it appears that his election was communicated in the following words:-

“The Committee, of which you are now a member, was the last legacy bequeathed in trust for the benefit of Ireland by the Catholic Association, and the wisdom of the policy which guided and occasioned the trust, as well as the fidelity with which the great design has been carried into effect, are best evinced by the monuments of the cemeteries, and the confidence of the surviving friends of nearly 34,000 persons whose honoured remains rest together without any religions or uncharitable distinction.

“A series of insults to the dead, and of outrage to the feelings of the living, have led to the institution of sanctuaries where all may repose in the hope of resurrection.”

Henry Grattan Curran, who afterwards became Resident Magistrate at Parsonstown, was, of course, a Protestant. He replied:

“Forcibly and justly have you characterised the institution in the conduct of which I am thus called to share, and of which I find it difficult to say whether it should be esteemed more valuable as an evidence of the liberal feelings with which it is governed, or, as a memorial of those feelings, proud, pious, and patriotic, out of which it grew.

“Looking at the beautiful and invaluable depository provided for those relics, which it is human instinct to revere, while I wonder at the bigotry by which that instinct could have been outraged, I cannot but admire the dispensation by which even bigotry has been made instrumental to shedding around the ‘unforgotten dead’, the rapture of repose.

“I accept with gratitude the trust of watching over the interests of an institution so admirable.”

Curran’s sarcophagus, which rises to a height of 8 ft. 2 in., is composed of fine Irish granite, each block weighing from four to five tons. It is carefully modelled after the original, which visitors to Rome will find opposite the Baths of Caracalla and near the Sebastian Gate. The character of the design is in sound keeping with the classic style of Curran’s eloquence. His speech, for instance, delivered on the trial of Hamilton Rowan has been compared to Cicero’s defence of Milo. The idea and design had been already adopted, though less happily, over the grave of Napoleon at St. Helena.

The sum of £300 had been set apart for Curran’s tomb in Glasnevin, and it was decided that the residue of the amount subscribed should go to a supplemental fund for the erection of a monument within the city. The Protestant Cathedral of St. Patrick was finally chosen for its reception. Here a fine bust of Curran, from the chisel of Christopher Moore, rests on a sarcophagus. A few anecdotes of Curran, while serving to temper the solemnity of this record, will, it is hoped, enhance the interest felt by those who visit his grave. [See “Anecdotes of Curran” in Appendix.]

Some old friends of Curran were soon laid beside his bones. “Love is strong as Death” sings the “Song of Solomon.” The body of Major Fitzgerald was the first to arrive. “Underneath and near to the tomb of his friend Curran,” records his epitaph, “repose the ashes of Major Fitzgerald, of Clonborris, who died October 21, 1838, aged 72 years. He was not less eminent for his courage and humanity as a soldier than illustrious by his descent from the Fitzgeralds, the ancient barons of Brownsford, in the County of Kilkenny, and of whom he was the last representative in the male line. During a period of blood and devastation in this country he was charged with an important and delicate commission, which he fulfilled with consummate judgment, entitling him to the confidence of the Government and the gratitude of the people, of whom he was a gallant protector.”

The second visit of the cholera to Dublin, in 1334, carried off, after a few hours illness, Father John Shine, and, four days later, Father Robert O’Ferrall, in his thirtieth year. The latter was brother to the Right Hon. Richard More O’Ferrall, Lord of the Treasury in Lord Melbourne’s administration, and who, in 1850, resigned the Governorship of Malta as a protest against Lord John Russell’s Papal Aggression Bill. Father Shine was, perhaps, after Father James Butler, the most efficient of the first Clongowes professors, and had for five years taken charge of the day-school into which the Hardwicke Street chapel had been transformed after the opening of St Francis Xavier’s, Gardiner Street. When ministering to a cholera patient he caught the fatal malady, which, in its saddening and fatal ending, recalled the worst features of the plague of Egypt as described in Exodus.” So great was the dread of contagion that Father Shine was buried by torchlight in Glasnevin during the night which followed his death.

Even the resident officials at Glasnevin cemetery had no idea until the fact was found recorded in an early register, that an unmarked grave, shaded by the foliage of the Botanic Gardens, covers the remains of a man who disturbed the repose of successive governments and cut no small figure in Irish history. Editor of the Union Star in 1798, active in the rebel ranks, Walter Cox was deep in the confidence of Lord Edward Fitzgerald and Arthur O’Connor. But it is that marvellous medley popularity known as “Watty Cox’s Magazine” [Its title is “Irish Magazine and Monthly Asylum for Neglected Biography.”] with which his name is destined to remain long identified. This serial ran from 1807 to 1816. For libelling the Irish Government he was repeatedly prosecuted, and on one occasion pilloried. John Pollock, Clerk of the Crown, addressing Sir A. Wellesley, afterwards Duke of Wellington, in 1809, writes:- “Believe me that no sum of money at all within reason would be misapplied in rivetting him to the Government. I have spoken of this man before to Sir Edward Littlehales and to Sir Charles Saxton. He is the most able, and, if not secured, by far the most formidable man that I know of in Ireland.” [“Civil Correspondence and Memoranda of F-M., Arthur, Duke of Wellington,” edited by his son.] The Correspondence of the Right Hon. John Wilson Croker contains an interesting letter from Peel, who was Chief Secretary for Ireland from 1813 to 1818. Seven years after the date of Pollock’s letter, Peel sends to Croker Cox’s magazine for denunciation in the Quarterly Review. “Cox’s object,” he says, “was to ferment a bitter hatred against England.” He adds -“It was quite impossible to subdue Cox by any power which the law gave us. The two last volumes - the worst of the set - were written when he was in Newgate for publishing a seditious libel… . He remained in prison a year-and-a-half after the term of his confinement rather than pay a fine of £300, which, I think, such a popular character might easily have raised.”

It appears that Walter Cox [For further particulars of Cox see Lecky’s “History of England,” Vol VII., pp.336 - 7. The author of “Irish Humourists” describes Cox as one of the most peculiar individuals to be met with in Irish history, and expresses a hope that some day the documents relating to him possessed by Dr. Madden, and other manuscripts that must be somewhere in existence will be published and a full biography given to the world of so striking a personality.] was buried on January 19, 1837. Most old graves at Glasnevin contain several bodies but Cox, “like a warrior taking his rest,” is left all “alone in his glory.” Dr. Madden gives Cox’s age as 67; Alfred Webb, 66. His age, as recorded in the Cemetery Register, is set down as 84!

Captain Edward Whyte, R.N., whose career was marked by some interesting circumstances, died on September 19th, 1837, aged 52. His family - one of ancient lineage - had given to the King’s service eight brothers, of whom six fell in battle. In January, 1796, Edward Whyte entered the Navy; in 1804, he attained the rank of lieutenant. He was present at Trafalgar when Nelson defeated the combined fleets of France and Spain. The remains of Captain Whyte rest in the Garden Section of the Cemetery, beneath a suitable monument, and a memorial brass may be seen in the mortuary chapel.

The funeral, on October 17th, 1838, of Barbara Dillon, Countess of Roscommon, was in many respects an interesting incident. Patrick, the eleventh lord, had but one child, Lady Maria Dillon. This daughter of “a long line of earls” never married, and some years later was buried in the cemetery. The peerage of Roscommon is now extinct.

John Redmond, a member of the old Catholic Association, was arrested with O’Connell, in 1831, for having taken the chair at a Repeal meeting in contravention of a proclamation issued by the Viceroy, Lord Anglesey [O’Keefe’s “Life of O’Connell,” Vol. II., p. 540.]. He was an active worker on the Board of Glasnevin Cemetery, and was buried in it 19th November, 1840, aged 63.

One of the “Old Guard” - as O’Connell loved to call his colleagues in the struggle for civil and religious liberty - Edward Dwyer, was buried at Glasnevin on 23rd October, 1839, aged 70. He had acted as secretary to the Catholic Association, and on the 9th July, 1832, became a member of the Cemeteries Committee. In the preceding year he was prosecuted by the Crown for complicity in the Repeal agitation.

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