"born in a stable" | PARKS AND GARDENS

PHOENIX PARK OCTOBER 2024

The Wellington Monument in Phoenix Park, a towering obelisk marking the Dublin skyline, stands as a somewhat ironic tribute to Arthur Wellesley, the Duke of Wellington. While intended to celebrate his victory at Waterloo and Irish roots, the project was met with lukewarm public support and beset by delays and funding issues. This lack of enthusiasm stemmed from Wellington’s waning popularity in Ireland due to his political stance against Catholic Emancipation, alongside funding difficulties and the monument’s relocation to a less central location.

Ironically, the monument is associated with two contrasting anecdotes that capture the complex relationship between Wellington and his homeland. The first, often recounted with a chuckle, involves a stable built on site to house the horse for the planned equestrian statue. When funds ran dry, leaving the stable empty, Wellington quipped, “If they cannot afford the horse, they can afford the stable.” This story, though popular in Dublin, highlights the financial woes that plagued the monument’s construction and the eventual abandonment of the statue.

Far more widely known, however, is the biting remark by Daniel O’Connell, a leading figure in the fight for Catholic Emancipation: “The poor old duke, what shall I say of him? To be sure he was born in Ireland, but being born in a stable does not make a man a horse.” O’Connell, a champion of Catholic Emancipation and a towering figure in Irish history, crafted a retort that resonated deeply with those who felt betrayed by Wellington’s political stance. This quote, deeply ingrained in Irish historical memory, underscores the complexities of Wellington’s legacy in Ireland, where admiration for his military achievements is often tempered by his political actions.

In contrast to the Dublin monument, the Wellington Monument in Trim, County Meath, enjoyed significant local support. This stemmed from Wellington’s strong personal ties to the town, where he spent his formative years and served as a member of Parliament. Funded and championed by the local community, the Trim monument, a more modest bronze statue atop a column, reflects a sense of local pride and ownership absent in the Dublin project.

The contrasting stories associated with the Dublin monument, one humorous and the other pointedly critical, offer a glimpse into the complexities of commemorating historical figures whose legacies are intertwined with political and social tensions. These contrasting narratives, alongside the differing receptions of the Dublin and Trim monuments, paint a nuanced picture of Wellington’s legacy in Ireland, one marked by both admiration and resentment.