In 1229, following common English practice, the Anglo-Norman
rulers of Dublin established a bicameral representative body
called the Corporation for governing the city. The lower
house, the "sheriffs and commons," contained seats for 96
representatives of tradesmen's craft guilds and 48 seats for
"sheriff's peers." The upper house seated 24 "aldermen," from
the Old English ealdorman (elder man), a title which
had been used in England for nobles who presided over shires.
The aldermen elected a mayor from their ranks, making him
answerable to them rather than to the populace at large.
In 1665, during the Restoration reign of King Charles II, the
mayor was made into a more glorified "Lord Mayor," but his
role remained limited largely to presiding over meetings and
representing the Corporation on ceremonial occasions. Circe
captures the splendor of the modern mayor's regalia
in the person of "Timothy Harrington, late
thrice Lord Mayor of Dublin, imposing in mayoral scarlet,
gold chain and white silk tie." The 22-carat "golden
chain," mentioned also in Wandering Rocks, was
given to the city of Dublin by King
William III in 1698 and is worn on many ceremonial
occasions (though rumor has it that the one publicly worn
these days is often a fake, to guard against theft). In Nausicaa
Cissey Caffrey makes a children's game of the "gingerbread
carriage" that since the 1750s has carried the mayor to
particularly showy events. But the splendid shows mask a
shortage of real power in the office.
The cartoon accompanying this note captures the boredom that
must often accompany the fancy displays. It depicts the man
who, as Circe notes, was serving in the office on 16
June 1904, "the Right Honourable Joseph Hutchinson, lord
mayor of Dublin." In Wandering Rocks James
Henry, the assistant town clerk, complains about Hutchinson
being out of the country at Llandudno, in Wales, and the city
council being in disarray: "Where was the marshal, he wanted
to know, to keep order in the council chamber. And old Barlow
the macebearer laid up with asthma, no mace on the table,
nothing in order, no quorum even, and Hutchinson, the lord
mayor, in Llandudno and little Lorcan Sherlock doing locum
tenens for him." Lorcan Sherlock was
Secretary to the Corporation—"in effect, deputy lord mayor,"
Gifford notes, and thus locum tenens, holding
Hutchinson's place. He became Lord Mayor in 1912.
Timothy Harrington, mentioned above, was another actual
Dublin mayor. He served three one-year terms in the years
before Hutchinson. The novel mentions at least four other
mayors from the two decades before and after 1904. In Lestrygonians,
Wandering Rocks, Nausicaa, and Penelope,
"Val Dillon" comes up in memories of an 1894
fundraising dinner. Ithaca notices "Dan Tallon,"
who closed out the 19th century, and "Thomas Pile," who
ushered in the 20th. Aeolus and Cyclops observe
that "Nannetti" is running to become the next mayor.
The list is remarkably close to comprehensive:
Valentine Blake Dillon (1894-1895)
Daniel Tallon (1898-1900)
Thomas Devereux Pile (1900-1901)
Timothy Harrington (1901-1904)
Joseph Hutchinson (1904-1906)
Joseph Patrick Nannetti (1906-1908)
Lorcan Sherlock (1912-1915)
To these historical personages the novel adds one purely
fantastical mayor, Bloom himself. In Circe he becomes
"Leopold! Lord mayor of Dublin!" Wearing an "alderman's
gown and chain," he pushes the pet idea that he
had voiced in Hades, that the Corporation should run a tramline from the
parkgate to the quays. By including this fantasy, Joyce
was perhaps responding to the common saying that Dublin would
never have a Jewish Lord Mayor (personal communication from
Vincent Altman O'Connor). This tidbit of urban mythology
started when a Jew named Lewis Wormser Harris was elected
mayor in 1877 and died one day before he was to assume office.
The canard was proved false when Robert Briscoe became Lord
Mayor in 1956.
In 1840 the old bicameral structure of commoners and aldermen
had been altered by a piece of parliamentary legislation
called the Municipal Corporations Act (Ireland). The Dublin
Corporation became something more nearly like a modern,
unicameral city council, but the distinction between two types
of representatives was retained. The name Dublin City Council
was applied collectively to mere "councillors," while
higher-ranking "aldermen" continued to hold privileged
positions of administrative and judicial authority. It was not
until 2002 that the hierarchical title of alderman was
abolished and the name Dublin City Council was applied to the
entire representative structure, closing the final chapter of
the antiquated Corporation. It remains to be seen if Dublin
will ever create a more powerful mayoral office.
The two kinds of representatives appear in Wandering
Rocks: "On the steps of the City hall Councillor
Nannetti, descending, hailed Alderman Cowley and Councillor
Abraham Lyon ascending." Gifford and Slote note that
Abraham Lyon was an actual councillor, but that there is no
record of an alderman named Cowley. Nannetti plays a fairly
significant role in the novel. He was a master printer who
ascended to the mayoralty from the Council, reflecting the
modern dissolution of the old hierarchy of tradesmen and
nobles. Alderman Robert O'Reilly, mentioned in Lestrygonians,
was a man of less stature. Gifford identifies him as "A
merchant tailor by trade" (another indication of the vanished
distinction between tradesmen and aldermen), and "a small-time
Dublin politician, listed as an alderman on the markets
committee in the 1890s." Bloom has unflattering memories of
O'Reilly at the 1894 fundraising dinner, "emptying the port
into his soup before the flag fell. Bobbob lapping it for
the inner alderman. Couldn't hear what the band played."
A significant number of Corporation members served
simultaneously as Members of Parliament in Westminster. That
was the case with Harrington and Nannetti and also with John
Hooper, an alderman who figures in Hades and Ithaca
when Bloom thinks of "the wedding present alderman Hooper
gave us," a stuffed owl. All three of these men
supported the nationalist agenda of Parnell's Irish
Parliamentary Party. It may seem odd that politicians who had
attained the stature and influence of MPs would bother
themselves with the humdrum work of a mere city council, but
the body carried symbolic as well as practical importance.
After the abolition of the Irish Parliament by the Act of Union in 1800, the
Dublin Corporation was the largest elected body in Ireland and
perhaps the only one that could embody hopes of national
independence. Daniel O'Connell
attached such importance to it that, after his long struggle
to become a Member of Parliament (first elected in 1828, he
finally was seated in 1830), he ran for election to the
Corporation in the 1830s. In 1841 he became the first Catholic
Lord Mayor since the reign of James
II.
The "city hall" mentioned twice in the novel is a
stately neoclassical building from the 1770s. Designed by
architect Thomas Cooley and constructed of England's Portland
limestone, it was originally built to house the Royal
Exchange, a place where Dublin businessmen, and also merchants
from overseas, could meet and trade. The Corporation purchased
it and renamed it City Hall in 1852. The name and function
remain today.
Joyce's interest in the city government of Dublin continued
into Finnegans Wake. Thanks to the work of Roland
McHugh it can be seen that the section in which HCE takes the
stand to defend himself (532-54), often called the "Haveth
Childers Everywhere" episode, alludes to at least 72 different
Lord Mayors of Dublin, as well as to the original Mayor,
Thomas Cusack—joining with other clusters of allusions to
rival the hundreds of the world's rivers evoked in the Anna
Livia Plurabelle chapter. Elsewhere, the book plays not only
with the figure of the Lord Mayor (307, 568) and his chain of
office (494, 568), but with the three castles featured in the
city's coat of arms (seen in two of the images accompanying
this note), and with its official motto: Obedientia civium
urbis felicitas, "The happiness of the city consists in
the obedience of its citizens" (23, 76).
There are probably many other such allusions in the Wake.
In an article titled "Some Irish and Anglo-Irish Allusions in
Finnegans Wake," JJQ 11.3 (1974): 266-78, John
Garvin notes that "'Up Murphy, Henson, and O'Dwyer, the
Warchester Warders!' (FW 446) refers to Murphy, Hernon,
and O'Dwyer, the Dublin City Commissioners who administered
the affairs of the Dublin Corporation, 1924-30, while the
members of the City Council were removed from office" (277).