The Victorian splendour of the House of Lords dining room. A further recollection from an active literary life
A most memorable day in my life as a writer was my visit to the Palace of Westminster, the home of the British Parliament.
This was occasioned by the publication in 1973 of my book Listowel and its Vicinity, which included an account of the Hare family, later ennobled as the Lords Listowel, who at one time were the proprietors of 30,000 acres of North Kerry.
Before setting out to write about the Hare Listowel family I had contacted the chief of the family at that time, its most distinguished and talented member to date.
The Right Honourable William Francis Hare, 5th Earl of Listowel, was born on September 28, 1906. After Eton, he went to Oxford and later to Cambridge where, becoming a convinced socialist, he joined the Labour Party and on inheriting the title in 1931, announced that, disapproving of titles, he wished in future to be known as Mr Hare.
Graduating from Cambridge, he took a PhD at London. A formidable philosopher, he published the Values of Life in 1931 and A Critical History of Modern Aesthetics in 1933.
In 1937 he entered public life as a county councillor for London. Having kept his seat in the Upper House, he was Lord Chairman of committees and deputy speaker of the House of Lords from 1965 onwards.
Not only because of his undoubted ability, but also because he was one of the few socialist hereditary peers, he filled an extraordinary number of responsible positions.
Lord Listowel’s response to my letter was most encouraging. He expressed his interest in the forthcoming history and promised to assist me. He was true to his word, pointing me to important sources and reading and commenting on a number of the early drafts. He was so enamoured of the finished book that he presented copies to the House of Lords Library and to the London Library.
His letter to me after he later read the book indicates his enthusiasm for the project:
“Dear Fr Gaughan,
I have read your book about Listowel with very great interest and pleasure, and I would like to thank you for this valuable contribution to Irish local history. I was fascinated by your account of the people of Listowel. Their appetite for knowledge overcame their poverty in the days of the native schools, and now they have produced many talented writers and poets. I hope one day to travel to Ireland to make your acquaintance, unless you can be persuaded to come to London.”
I did not need a second invitation to go to London to meet him. A day was arranged. I took an early morning flight to London.
At the entrance to the Palace of Westminster I was met and escorted to Listowel’s large office at the heart of the administrative, bureaucratic and legislative behemoth that is ‘Westminster’.
Listowel introduced me to his office staff. He then took me on a guided tour of the House of Lords and the House of Commons. His commentary indicated his pride in the contribution which those institutions had made to the spread of democracy throughout the world.
We stopped at a number of the statues of legendary figures who had major roles in the Houses of Parliament. Here his commentary was not always complimentary.
As we strolled through the House of Lords we met two of its distinguished members. On a staircase we met Baron George Brown. It was clear that he and Listowel were close friends. Brown was a handsome man and over six feet tall. He had been deputy prime minister in the Harold Wilson Labour government and had also been in charge of the huge department of economic affairs. Listowel introduced me to Brown.
When he heard I had written a book about Kerry he exclaimed that he was a Cork man and in the banter that followed showed that he was aware that at times there could be tension between Cork men and Kerry men.
Further on we met a smiling Captain Terence O’Neill, former prime minister of Northern Ireland, then Lord O’Neill of the Maine. It was clear that he and Listowel were also valued friends. He introduced me to Lord O’Neill. The contrast between O’Neill and Brown was palpable: the one so stilted, the other so relaxed. As we walked on from O’Neill, Listowel surprised me saying: “A charming man, but not very able”!
Tea-break
At the end of the tour Listowel took me out to the veranda between the palace and the Thames. There were groups of people enjoying a tea-break under sun-canopies.
Listowel led me to one of them. At the centre of it was Mrs Pandit Nehru, sister of Nehru, prime minister of India. She was then retired from public life, but formerly had been the representative of India to the UK and later was first woman to be president of the UN. Listowel introduced me to her and I clumsily attempted to imitate the polite gesture she made to me.
Listowel then told me we would be having lunch in the members dining-room. He also told me we would be joined by his then wife – a distinguished person in her own right – as she was also keen to meet me. She was from Northern Ireland and was pleasant and chatty.
During the lunch Listowel had a member of the staff fetch my book from the ‘Lord’s library’. It arrived without the dust-jacket. Listowel pointed to it and said he wished to show me the excellent binding which the in-house book-binders had put on my book. In fact, the binding on it was the binding which had left the hands of Tommy Duffy and his staff at the North Strand in Dublin. However, I had not the courage to appraise Listowel of this.
During my return flight I struggled to place in context the wonderful kindness I received and the remarkable experiences I had had, and I fully realised that I would never again have a day such as I had at the palace of Westminster.