And is the patriot, Meagher, dead?
Who in his youthful glory rose,
A champion of his race and led
His country ‘gainst her foes
Who prized the sword ‘bove moral force
When Tyranny to dotage ran
And waked in tyrants a remorse
For slavery in man
William James McClure “Thomas Francis Meagher” 1869
William Lyons said the reason for his biography of Thomas Francis Meagher required no explanation. Meagher, he said, was a great man of his times who participated prominently in two revolutionary struggles, “a bloodless one in the Old World, and a sanguinary one in the New.” Meagher was involved in the Irish revolution of 1848 (far from bloodless once the Famine is taken into account) and the American civil war of 1861-65 and Lyons omits a third “revolutionary struggle,” the American frontier wars which Meagher was involved in the last two years of his life.
Yet it is less clear why anyone should care about Meagher 150 years later and it is tempting to dismiss him as a 19th century Forrest Gump, turning up at important events in history but seemingly leaving little of consequence to remember him by. The Irish rebellion was a miserable failure and he was missing in action the one time the bullets flew. And though he thrilled contemporaries with his eloquence and was the “National Tribune” and orator of the Young Ireland movement, his speeches now mostly seem ornate, pompous and irrelevant. His 1949 biographer claimed that most of Meagher’s life after Ireland was anticlimactic.
His treatment of his first wife Catherine was appalling, abandoning her twice while pregnant in a different continent. His time in New York was characterized by failures as a journalist and a lawyer. His time in the army was dogged with allegations of drunken behavior, cowardice and incompetence. And Montana was two years of political chaos and Indian wars culminating in his mysterious and unseemly disappearance and death. Meagher could not even manage a funeral.
But though he is not buried anywhere, his wandering ghost appears far and wide. It weeps at family graves in Faithlegg, Glasnevin, Richmond, Green-Wood and Manila. It shadows statues in Waterford and Helena. It haunts busts in Fort Benton, Brooklyn and Antietam and it flutters beside Irish Brigade flags in Leinster House and Collins Barracks.
Then there is the Irish flag. Meagher likely raised a French tricolor in Waterford on March 7, 1848, but there are no doubts about the colors of the Frenchwomen’s flag he took to Dublin a month later. Meagher’s contribution to the meaning of the flag was his description of the white as a truce between the Catholic and Protestant. As Waterford celebrated the 175th anniversary of the March flag raising in 2023, the flag foundation named in his honor was finding newer meaning. The Thomas F Meagher Foundation chair with the Meagher-friendly name of Michael Cavanagh said the message of the central white panel was perhaps even more relevant in Ireland’s 21st century multicultural society, ”where our national desire for peace, harmony and mutual respect now extends far beyond the division between Catholic and Protestant to people of all faiths and none.”
A 21st century Meagher would likely have appreciated that extension of meaning. Like his fellow Young Irelanders, Meagher was better at symbolism than subversion. Their 1848 revolution had little support, no weapons, no troops, and no military training, and was little more than a fiasco in a cabbage patch as British papers gleefully called it. Those same papers were less keen to talk about the simultaneous fiasco in potato patches across Ireland, the disaster that drove the rebels to their inevitable defeat.
Meagher was always prepared to take the longer view. The history of Ireland, Meagher said in his speech from the dock, “explains my crime and justifies it.” The fiasco and the famine would create a potent myth that inspired an idea of an independent Ireland in the 20th century and flowed through to the idea of Ireland as part of the European Union in the 21st century. According to Irish president Michael D. Higgins. Meagher belonged to an extraordinary generation of 1848, “who, throughout Europe, from France to Poland, from Denmark to Italy, put their lives on the line to overthrow tyranny and despotism, and to vindicate the liberty and self-determination of oppressed peoples.”
The Young Irelanders used their true skills as writers and publicists abroad. In Van Diemen’s Land the state prisoners resisted the government’s plan to exile them to “gentlemanly obscurity” and brought their plight as prisoners of war to a world audience. He aided the local Anti Transportation League in election campaigns and married a Tasmanian-born Irishwoman, but he chafed at the life of a colonial gentleman farmer. He believed gold would help Australia escape the “oppression” of the English and lead to independence. Ever aware of the power of emblems, Meagher said the southern cross flag was “lifted in a holy cause” and one day would “traverse the world.” Meagher’s hopes for Australian independence were eventually realized though he would be disappointed that the southern cross remains wedded to the union on the 21st century Australia flag. Nevertheless Meagher’s impact on Australia was muted and a 2002 Tasmanian newspaper dismissed him as “a bit of a lady’s man who liked his booze.” Meagher’s most permanent mark of his time in Australia was the sad grave of his infant child in Richmond, one of two sons he never saw.
In America his reputation rested not on his Australian achievements but on the cultural capital that he had generated as an Irish rebel leader. At a time when the Irish were a quarter of the population of New York, Meagher dreamed big. “I foresee that America will be the visible providence of the world and that whilst she encourages the weak, the struggling and the oppressed, she will augment her own power of doing good by winning the confidence and love of every race,” Meagher told the press on his arrival in the city. “Thus will be accomplished the freedom of the world.” Meagher helped to create a new geography of political ideas. His attraction to the American notion of Manifest Destiny gave him grand plans for Central America and later for Montana and also enabled to move smoothly between support of the Democrats and the newly constituted Republicans, which bewildered Irish-American supporters. In an era when speech-making was critical to political success, Meagher seemed to hold the aces. But he destroyed his capital with Irish Americans twice, first when he associated with anti-Catholic revolutionaries and again when he pivoted to the Republicans. He was as Maria Lydig Daly perceptively put it, “a man born to die as a rebel on the gallows with a resounding speech in his mouth.”
Meagher’s reputation in America, as John F. Kennedy reminded Ireland in 1963, rests with his involvement in the civil war. The slavery question dominated America in the 1850s and while Meagher refused to speak out against it, his commitment to the idea of the Union was public and deeply rooted. When war broke out, he signed up for the North, annoyed at the disrespect the South had shown to the flag of the republic “which gave him a welcome and a home.”
Meagher and his fellow Irish recruits wanted to prove their loyalty as adopted citizens and to overcome the Know Nothing hatred of foreigners. Still recovering from the post-traumatic stress of one million dead in the Famine, another generation of Irish would suffer grievously in their attempts to be accepted as Americans, 150,000 fighting for the Union and another 25,000 for the Rebels.
If they survived, then the hope was that they might serve as a trained army to liberate Ireland after the war. And while the subsequent Fenian rebellion was every bit as underwhelming as the Young Ireland one, the British remained concerned. English Liberal politician Sir William Harcourt warned in 1885 that while in former rebellions the Irish were in Ireland, “now there is an Irish nation in the United States equally hostile, with plenty of money, absolutely beyond our reach and yet within ten days of our shores.”
Meagher tried to steer a middle course between American and Irish ambitions. When he exhorted his Zouaves at the first battle of Bull Run, shouting, “Boys look at that flag,” he pointed not at the stars and stripes nor the green, white and orange, but instead the green flag and sunburst of the 69th Regiment, the flag Kennedy would later give to the Dáil. “Remember Ireland and Fontenoy,” Meagher told them. Meagher’s Irish Brigade would create a succession of American Fontenoys, each bloodier than the last.
Abraham Lincoln had made Meagher a Brigadier General, impressed by his ability to recruit Irish Americans for the Union. Meagher led his men into the terrible battles that followed, most notably Antietam, a disaster for the Brigade, but victory of sorts for the North which allowed Lincoln to issue his Emancipation Declaration, and then Fredericksburg three months later which was an unmitigated disaster for the Union and Brigade alike.
In 1863 professional soldiers like Grant and Sherman took over the war. They had no time for enthusiastic amateurs like Meagher whose departure from the Brigade marked “the end of the romantic era in the Civil War.” That year also ended the fiction that the Irish were fighting to save the Union. While it might seem obvious that the Civil War was fought over slavery given the importance of the “peculiar institution” to the southern economy, and slavery’s pride of place in the Confederate constitution, but it was barely acknowledged for the first two years of the war, certainly not by the Lincoln administration. It exasperated America’s ambassador in London, forbidden to mention the one factor in the war that might have won British support for the north. Irish Americans rioted in New York, rather than accept it was a war for black emancipation. Meagher’s recruitment strategy was in ruins and the Irish-American press condemned his Letters on Our National Struggle later that year where he admitted that “slavery of the black man” constituted the basis of southern wealth and power.
Meagher served the Union well in Tennessee and watched as black troops helped defend Nashville. After the war he argued that Montana was not just the perfect place for the Irish but also for the “the Black heroes of the Union Army”, the African-American veterans who, he believed, “have not only entitled themselves to liberty but to citizenship.” Meagher saw Montana as a place where all those who believed in America could exercise the rights for which they had fought, and while he still saw the native people as “savages” even they could find redemptive civilisation in the form of Christian conversion.
Black leader Frederick Douglass had prophesied in 1862 the task of protecting hard-won black freedoms had only begun with emancipation, and as emancipated slave Henry Adams said about the right to vote, “If I cannot do like a white man I am not free.” Those ambitions were destroyed after the war thanks to Lincoln’s assassination then the failure of Reconstruction in the 1870s and the success of the “lost cause” hypothesis, the belief the war was fought for Southern states rights. The Supreme Court upheld the Jim Crow laws in 1896 in Plessy vs. Ferguson, handing down a “separate but equal” legal doctrine that was every bit as odious as the 1857 Dred Scott pro-slavery decision.
That success permeates to the present day. Though the Jim Crow laws were overturned in the 1960s, many Republican-run state legislatures (now on running on a platform very different from Lincoln’s) have introduced strict voter ID laws which disproportionately impact voters of color and have also banned the teaching of Critical Race Theory (CRT) which acknowledges that the legacy of slavery, segregation, and the imposition of second-class citizenship on people of color continues to permeate America’s social fabric. States banning CRT include Meagher’s own Montana whose Attorney-General declared in 2021 that “Montana law does not tolerate schools, other government entities, or employers implementing CRT and antiracist programming in a way that treats individuals differently on the basis of race or that creates a racially hostile environment.” The concern is that anti CRT laws will prevent adequate teaching about the Civil War, and the civil rights movement. “English teachers will have to avoid teaching almost any text by an African American author because many of them mention racism to various extents,” one teacher said. The history of slavery, wrote Clint Smith, “is in our soil, it is in our policies, and it must be in our memories.” If telling the civil war story of Thomas Francis Meagher helps this objective, however tangential, it is worth the investment.
For the people of Waterford, the answer as to why Meagher should be remembered is much simpler. Near the Granville Hotel where Meagher was born, street banners hung proudly along the Quay promoting local business. The main text on the banners read “Eat Shop Enjoy” and underneath was “Shop Waterford Support Local” and “Together Waterford is Stronger.” Above the text was a portrait of Meagher. The connection was not explained nor did it need to be. Here was a local still supporting Waterford long after his death. Meagher would have enjoyed the connection given his father’s long association with the local chamber of commerce. But he would also have agreed with the sentiments of the banner. Meagher was proud of his city. Heaven bless Waterford, Meagher wrote. “May the sweet birds long fill its shady trellises with music, and the noble stream with full breast nourish the earth where it has root. Two 200 hundred years later the city remains proud of its son. As people posting on the social media page “I Am Waterford” would say, Thomas Francis Meagher is Waterford.