Skibbereen, County Cork, Ireland
June 1843
FROM EVERY FIELD AND FARM, LANE AND STREET, VILLAGE AND TOWNLAND in West Cork, the people came. Some in groups, some alone, they walked in heavy boots or barefoot to witness their great hero, Daniel O’Connell, speak at the Monster Repeal Meeting in Skibbereen.
Mary Sullivan was among them, for she was determined to see the Great Liberator, who had done so much for Ireland and her people. She had been anxious about leaving her children, but her kind neighbour Brigid had offered to mind them.
Band music filled the stilly June air as she, her husband John, his brother Pat and uncle Flor neared the market town. The crowded streets of Skibbereen were bedecked with welcome flags and brightly coloured bunting, and every store, stall and merchant was busy. Mary laughed, caught up in the heady excitement and gaiety of it all.
Filled with anticipation, they joined the slow, winding snake of men and women of all ages as they pushed forward towards Curragh Hill, where their champion would address them.
Since sunrise, Father John Fitzpatrick had been watching the crowds arriving in Skibbereen. The people were like pilgrims travelling from afar, arriving in carts and coaches. Some were staying in the town’s hotels and boarding houses, and many had walked miles to get there.
The numbers were huge – thousands and thousands – far greater than he and his fellow priests had hoped for when they sent out word to the people of Carbery that all were welcome to attend a meeting where the great Daniel O’Connell would speak of repealing the hated Act of Union, which had merged the parliaments of Great Britain and Ireland. He gave a silent prayer to the Lord to grant them a fine dry day for their endeavours.
After he returned home from saying mass, Father Fitzpatrick checked that his housekeeper, Bridey, had the spare room ready. He had informed her that a guest would be staying with him in the parish house that evening. The brass bed was made up with their finest linen, the wardrobe and chest of drawers were freshly polished with beeswax, the glass in the window was sparkling.
‘I suppose they are going to the big meeting too?’ Bridey asked the priest as he came downstairs. ‘Will the two of you be eating here afterwards?’
‘No, Bridey, don’t trouble yourself. We’re attending the Repeal Banquet in the Temperance Hall tonight. But I’m sure my guest would enjoy a good breakfast with some of your soda bread tomorrow morning before he sets off on his travels.’
‘Father, I’ve never seen such a palaver in the town. But don’t worry, I’ll be up early to cook a few fresh eggs for the good father too.’
He laughed at her assumption that it was a man of the cloth who was coming to stay. He felt disingenuous, keeping the identity of his guest from her, but Bridey couldn’t be trusted not to brag and boast around the town.
Father Fitzpatrick had had to admit to being rather surprised that Daniel O’Connell had rejected the Repeal committee’s offer to take a room in the comfort of the nearby Becher Arms Hotel and requested to stay with him instead. Perhaps the great man preferred the privacy and quiet of a simple priest’s home to more luxurious surroundings where he would be approached constantly by admirers. He would do his utmost to ensure Daniel O’Connell found rest and peace here in the parish house if that was what he desired.
Satisfied that everything was in order, Father Fitzpatrick left to join the large welcome procession of parishioners, carpenters, shoemakers, weavers, other tradesmen and musical bands getting ready to escort O’Connell and his carriage to the packed meeting place.
Dr Daniel Donovan was finishing his rounds of the Skibbereen Union Workhouse when the young midwife came running after him.
‘The matron ordered me to fetch you,’ she called, out of breath.
With O’Connell’s visit to the town later that day, Dan was pressed for time, but he knew well that the matron would not request he attend unless she was in need of medical assistance.
The young mother-to-be in need of attention looked no more than eighteen years old; a pretty girl with thick dark hair that clung to her head with sweat.
‘I am fearful for her and the child,’ the middle-aged matron confided.
‘I am here to help you,’ he tried to reassure the girl. Her brown eyes were filled with fear, and she was too exhausted to take notice of him, let alone deliver a child.
As he examined her, it became clear that the baby was breech. Instead of presenting head down, one of the unborn child’s tiny feet was beginning to appear first. Difficult and risky in any case, breech deliveries often resulted in the loss of mother and child.
Dan thought back to his medical school days in Edinburgh when his professor would lecture him and his fellow students on such cases. He would drive home the vital importance of judicious and decisive assistance with such problematic births to try to ensure both lives were saved.
O’Connell would have to wait, for the mother was near collapse and he needed to deliver the baby immediately. Dan ordered the two women to help him hold the mother as he attempted to extract the baby as swiftly as he could.
‘I know you are tired—’
‘Her name is Maggie Hayes,’ interjected the matron.
‘Maggie, let me help your baby.’
A foot, a leg, a thigh, the buttocks … Somehow he managed to hold the child’s lower limbs steady and guide them as they emerged. Then, holding its body firmly, he quickly proceeded to ease the baby’s neck and small head downwards, trying to ensure he did not damage the neck or spine. The infant was blue and still. Dan untangled and cut the cord quickly, willing the boy to take his first breath.
The silence was ominous as he caught the little fellow and held him up, clearing the mucus and blood from his face. Suddenly the baby stirred and moved his hands before giving a low, faint cry. Dan held and rubbed the child, relieved as the infant began to give a stronger cry, his lungs filling with air and his colour improving.
‘You have a fine son,’ he told Maggie, placing the baby into her waiting arms, ‘but you must rest awhile.’
He nodded to the matron who was tending to her, before glancing at his fob watch and realizing how late he was.
Maggie smiled weakly.
‘I am naming him William after my late father and Daniel for the Liberator who is in town this very day, his birth day,’ she said proudly, kissing the baby’s head.
‘A day all of us will remember,’ Dan acknowledged as he took his leave.
‘I’m sorry for delaying you,’ apologized the matron as she escorted him to the door, ‘but thank you for your assistance.’
‘You did the right thing,’ he assured her, ‘for both the mother and baby are healthy.’
‘There is no mention of a father,’ Matron sighed. ‘The girl will have to stay here and nurse and mind the child.’
‘At least they are both in your good care, Matron,’ Dan said as he climbed up into his horse and trap, and set off home with great haste.
Henrietta Donovan was growing anxious, for her husband had promised to return for the meeting in plenty of time. Seeing such crowds, she fretted that they wouldn’t get there soon enough. What could possibly be delaying Dan on such an important day? Suddenly, she heard his rapid footsteps on the stair.
‘Where were you?’ she scolded lightly. ‘I was getting worried that—’
‘Hush,’ he soothed. ‘I’m here now, just let me change my shirt and jacket. I was delayed in the Union, assisting a difficult birth. Fortunately, both mother and child are well.’
‘Thank the Lord for that.’
She knew there was no point in rebuking Dan, for his patients would always come first. Her husband, the physician for the recently opened Skibbereen Union Workhouse and the town’s dispensary, was possessed of a kind nature and an utter dedication to the care of the sick.
As they set off in the horse and trap, Dan took his wife’s hand.
‘You look pretty, my dear, in that new lace dress,’ he offered.
Henrietta was delighted, for she had taken great care in curling her dark brown hair and applying a very slight touch of rouge to her lips, as well as purchasing a new dress for the occasion. She was gladdened by his compliment as Dan never usually noticed fashion!
The crowds had thinned as they made their way through town. Skibbereen’s bars and taverns were all closed, for O’Connell was an outspoken advocate for the Temperance movement and did not want his Monster Meetings marred by the raucous behaviour of a few drunks.
Before long, Dan and Henrietta joined the line of horse-drawn vehicles pulling up at the enormous meeting place. Henrietta’s heart pounded with the reverberation of the drums as she and Dan were escorted to a position near the large podium. All around them were townspeople and tradesmen, tenants and labourers, united in the hope that O’Connell would help restore an Irish parliament to Dublin that would govern the Irish people fairly.
‘Did we ever think that we would see this day?’ laughed Daniel McCarthy, the wealthy brewer, unable to disguise the pride and emotion in his voice. ‘The most famous man alive and, thanks to our own good efforts, here he is in Skibbereen.’
‘We knew the people would come.’ Dan gazed around him at the huge crowds. ‘For O’Connell speaks of what is in every man’s heart.’
‘And woman’s,’ Henrietta reminded her husband, squeezing his arm.
There was a flurry of movement as carriages and a procession of people bearing tall, billowing banners began to approach the enormous gathering. As the band struck up loudly in the distance, she was overcome with a frisson of excitement.