A true son of Clare and proud son of Ireland

AFTER the first volley of shots rang out above the graveside, the momentary silence was broken by the sound of empty shell cases falling back to the ground like a trickle of rain.

The second round then pierced the brilliant spring sunshine enveloping the final resting place of Patrick Hillery before the third and final volley died away to be replaced by the mournful lament of The Last Post echoing through the sycamore trees as Ireland said goodbye to a fondly remembered son.

The firing party from the 2nd Infantry was intended to herald the blessed trinity, however the overtones could also have symbolised Dr Hillery’s trenchant defence of constitutional republicanism as the north slipped into bloody chaos and Fianna Fáil wrestled with its own soul as the turmoil of the arms trial spilled out onto the floor of the 1971 ard fheis. The sloping swathe of green that is St Fintan’s cemetery, Sutton, has an unusual lushness to it as it gently dips from beneath the brow of Howth summit to the glistening waters of Dublin Bay, and amid the majestic pomp of the state occasion unfolding within its sumptuous grounds stood the small, dignified figure of Dr Hillery’s widow Maeve emphasising that above all else this was a moment for family reflection.

The languid tones of The Last Rose of Summer filled the air as the late president’s coffin was brought to rest before being lowered into the same grave as his daughter Vivienne, who the Hillerys lost to leukaemia at the age of 17. As with all state occasions, an undercurrent flowed just beneath the surface waters.

At the previous state funeral the subtext was an attempt to reclaim Charles Haughey’s legacy before the final, damning judgment of the Moriarty Tribunal emerged.

Dr Hillery’s funeral showcased Bertie Ahern’s fading from the political stage as Brian Cowen walked confidently into the limelight.

The Taoiseach looked like just another face in the crowd, almost hidden by Martin McAleese, as taoiseach-designate Brian Cowen moved past him to give the graveside ovation.

His voiced boomed out across the assembled mourners as he spoke warmly of the late president’s self-effacing character being formed in the Clare town of Milltown Malbay. “It is a special place where the sea air mixes with the beauty of the unique west of Ireland nature and countryside. His family home in Spanish Point and the surrounding environment were the source, the rhythm, of the riches of the man who emerged to play such a central role in Irish public life for almost four decades,” Mr Cowen told the crowd of about 400 in a well-crafted speech that interwove Dr Hillery’s service to the state with his abilities to live beyond politics.

Speaking in fluent Irish, Mr Cowen, who had a strong personal connection with the man he was eulogising, remembered the joy etched on Dr Hillery’s face when Clare beat the Tánaiste’s native Offaly in the 1995 All-Ireland hurling final.

And how, when he was still president, Dr Hillery would come to Mr Cowen’s home town of Clara and talk to the people “in their own language” without the formality of office being allowed to create unnecessary barriers.

The former president’s keen political abilities were not forgotten either as Mr Cowen spoke of the “critical role” Dr Hillery played in defending the ideals of the republic when the troubles first cast their long shadow over the south.

“At the very start of Northern Ireland’s descent into darkness, Paddy Hillery was our minister for foreign affairs. His support for the embattled nationalist community was unflinching. So too was his support for our constitution. He believed that Fianna Fáil’s mission was to achieve republican objectives solely by peaceful means,” said the Tánaiste.

A light breeze brushed the three simple wreaths of white roses resting above the grave as the pageantry came to a close and mourners respectfully moved forward and embraced the bereaved family one by one.

For someone like Dr Hillery, who chose his bodyguards on their ability to match him with a nine iron on the links, and who loved to surf the waves as they crashed against the western shores, Sutton, nestling between a golf course and the Irish Sea, would seem an idyllic spot.

As the sound of gunfire and The Last Post drifted away, bird song regained its hold on this tranquil place where a president and family man — a true son of Clare and proud son of Ireland — was laid to rest as the nation afforded him the dignity in death that he had brought to Áras an Uachtarán in life.