Kevin O’Higgins was an important figure in the history of the Irish Free State, holding the positions of vice-president and first justice minister. His death was a violent one, as he was assassinated on 10th July 1927 while he was on his way to Mass from his residence in Booterstown, Dublin. In 2012, 85 years post his death, a small memorial plaque was mounted on the wall at the site of his murder, which soon became victim to defacement and vandalism, reflecting the contentious and polarising views about O’Higgins. His existence on this earth lasted for 37 years. There were those who cast him in the role of executor of up to 88 anti-treaty activists due to his support of the Anglo-Irish Treaty that brought forth the Irish State, an inaccurate portrayal. His live was snuffed out by random chance, when his path crossed with three IRA men out to watch a GAA match in a stolen car. He left behind a wife and two daughters. His life and death have sparked a number of works including biographies by Terence de Vere White in 1948 and John P McCarthy in 2006, charting his journey from being a Sinn Féin organiser to the vice-president. Arthur Mathews further added to the narrative, providing context to O’Higgins’s role within an exceptional generation that battled for the establishment of an Irish State. His life and death is a story of allegiances and double-cross, love and detestation, principles and scheming, involving figures from Collins to de Valera.
The author’s unique perspective of authenticity is heavily based on his family story, particularly his grandfathers, Arthur Mathews and another who was part of the Royal Irish Constabulary. Arthur was involved in the 1916 uprising, worked for the IRA as an intelligence officer, and also represented Meath as a Cumann na nGaedheal TD. The book doesn’t excuse the execution strategies of the early State government, nor criticises those who decided to fight against it following Éamon de Valera. It clearly and fairly presents the moral debate. Those against the Treaty refused to validate the Dáil’s ratification decision, arguing that just because the majority agreed didn’t make it right. Supporters, on the other hand, advocated for democracy despite any potential heavy casualty count, as pressed by WT Cosgrave.
Although Arthur died before the author’s birth, Mathews deftly interconnects his generation with descendants of those who took contrasting positions to his grandfather. He warmly recounts the visits of Sister Nancy Hilliard, a Medical Missionary of Mary from Drogheda, to his mother’s home in Navan, where they would fondly recall “the good old days over a cup of tea and some biscuits.” Sister Nancy’s father, Michael Hilliard, was against the treaty, served as a Fianna Fáil minister, and executed a presumed informant when he was just 17. Michael was regarded as O’Higgins arch-enemy, according to Mathews.
Despite the author’s non-academic historian status (he is a co-writer for Father Ted), he utilises his family history to explore and reassess Ireland’s turbulent freedom struggle and determine the moral dilemmas the involved parties faced. Unlike academic historians, he doesn’t have to meticulously reference each statement. It’s rare to find children or grandchildren of the generation that moulded contemporary Ireland doing what the author has accomplished in this work.
Mathews’ topic isn’t a “no-plaster-saint”, a term O’Higgins himself employed when characterising the Free State’s Oriel House CID shooters. However, he displays principles, bravery, nationalism, and fervently believes that the democratic decisions of the Irish folk ought to be affirmed. Mathews admires a man who, despite his human flaws, remains a hero.