Since that time, judging from the Irish newspapers, there seems to have been progress in the right direction, for the little town of Castlewellan, where for a short time I went to school, from being a place where, in the Penal days, a Catholic was scarcely allowed to live, seems to have become a strong Nationalist centre for South Down.  This was my mother’s part of the country.  I have seen similar paragraphs which proved to me that, in the barony of Lecale, County Down, my father’s part, the people, though not so demonstrative as the “mountainy men,” can still, as ever, be relied upon to stand as firm as Slieve Donard itself for creed and country.

CHAPTER IV.

O’CONNELL IN LIVERPOOL—­TERENCE BELLEW MACMANUS AND THE REPEAL HALL—­THE GREAT IRISH FAMINE.

O’Connell, when passing through Liverpool on his way to Parliament, always made the Adelphi Hotel his headquarters, and used to hear Mass not far off at the Church of St. Nicholas, or, as it was more generally called, “Copperas Hill Chapel,” where I used to serve as an altar boy.  I must have been a very small boy at the time when I first remember the Liberator coming to Mass at our Church, for, on one occasion, on stretching up to the altar to remove the Missal it was so difficult for me to reach that I let it fall over my head.

Without being by any means what is termed a “votheen,” O’Connell was a faithful and devout son of the Catholic Church.  During the many years when he was passing through Liverpool, going to and returning from Parliament, and on other occasions when he came to Irish gatherings in the town, he attended Mass daily whenever possible, and frequently approached Holy Communion.

O’Connell spoke several times from the balcony of the Adelphi Hotel.  From my earliest days I was an earnest politician, and one of my most cherished remembrances is of having been brought by my father to one of these gatherings.  The Liberator addressed a great multitude, who filled the whole square in front, and overflowed into the adjoining streets.  My recollection of him on this occasion is that of a big man, in a long cloak, wearing what appeared to me some kind of a cap with a gold band on it.  This must have been the famous “Repeal Cap” designed by the Irish sculptor, Hogan, who, when investing O’Connell with it at the great gathering at Mullaghmast, said:  “Sir, I only regret this cap is not of gold.”

As in our later Irish movements, we frequently had meetings in one or other of the Liverpool theatres.  O’Connell was, as often as his attendance could be secured, the central figure, and drew enormous gatherings.  At one of these meetings at the Royal Amphitheatre there was an attempt by an armed body of Orangemen to storm the platform, on which were all our leading Irishmen.  Among the most active of these was Terence Bellew MacManus, who had all his lifetime been a devoted follower and admirer of O’Connell.  On this particular night, which was long before the unfortunate split into “Old Ireland” and “Young Ireland,” he had a fine opportunity of displaying his “physical force” proclivities in defence of the “moral force” leader.