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I'm obsessed by the story of a man who died 150 years ago and whose legacy spans three continents including Australia.
He was an Irishman with the grand name of Thomas Francis Meagher. Americans who saw him at close hand had trouble with that surname which they pronounced "meagre".
Nothing is less accurate than describing Meagher (pronounced 'marr') as meagre as he lived an astonishing life.
He was an Irish revolutionary, a Tasmanian convict, an escapee to America, a leader of Irish-Americans, a public speaker, a newspaper publisher, an editor, a lawyer, an American Civil War union general before becoming acting governor of Montana. His death, aged 43, mirrored his operatic life, mysteriously drowning off a steamboat into the Missouri River and his body was never found.
He also introduced the tricolour flag to Ireland.
Among his sweethearts was Irish poet Jane Elgee and when Meagher launched a boat in Tasmania's Lake Sorell he called it "Speranza" (Italian for hope) which was Elgee's pen-name. Meagher's own hopes were in vain. Elgee married surgeon William Wilde and later gave birth to an even more famous Irishman - Oscar Wilde.
Wild barely begins to describe Meagher's own journey.
He came from my home town Waterford, but only in the last 12 months was I drawn into his amazing story which features prominently in Thomas Keneally's monumental work about the Irish in 19th century Australia, "The Great Shame".
Meagher emerged during the tragedy of the Irish Famine to be a leader of a botched 1848 revolution against Britain. For his sins he was sentenced to death before it was commuted to transportation to Van Diemen's Land (as Tasmania was known until 1856). Meagher got a ticket-of-leave and settled in Ross where in the absence of "Speranza" he married the daughter of an Irish convict.
Meagher loved the beauty of Tasmania but he lacked purpose there.
In 1852 Irish American contacts helped me make a daring escape by ship to America after an anxious 11 days hiding on Tasmania's north-western Waterhouse Island.
When he arrived in New York he was feted by a city where a quarter of the population was Irish.
Meagher mania was so great they played the "TF Meagher Polka" in his honour nightly at music halls.
Meagher charmed everyone in New York, even fearsome Archbishop John "Dagger" Hughes (nicknamed for the holy cross on his autograph as well as his unholy aggressive personality).
Like all Irish Americans, Meagher and Hughes were pro-Union Democrats but anti-abolition of slavery (the Irish were worried freed slaves would take their jobs).
But the issue was tearing America apart and the 1860 election of anti-slavery Republican president Abraham Lincoln was the last straw for the south.
Meagher signed up for the North in the civil war and raised the famed Irish Brigade to fight the Rebels, which earned him Lincoln's enduring respect.
The Irish Brigade fought valiantly in bloody battles such as Antietam, Fredericksburg and Gettysburg. Its reputation for valour put it always front of the firing line. Thousands died.
By 1863 Meagher had seen enough carnage and left his position in protest.
But he courageously supported Lincoln's war effort to the end despite losing the love of his fellow Irish after the president's Emancipation Declaration of the slaves.
For his war service Meagher was appointed secretary of the new territory of Montana in 1865 and went out to the wild west to find the governor leaving his position by the next stagecoach, making him immediate "acting" governor.
Montana was no place for the timid. Its then capital Virginia City had America's richest gold boom and nearly every third cabin in the town of 10,000 was a saloon.
Gamblers fleeced miners of most of their money and Madame Mustache's dancing girls took the rest, amid fights, quarrels and murders.
Vigilantes ran the territory, conducting hangings without a trial.
They hated this upstart Irish governor who wanted to impose law and order and warned the "Acting One" would be next to be strung up.
Meagher ignored them and tried to pacify the Blackfeet Native Americans in rebellion in Montana's east.
In August 1867 Meagher boarded a steamboat to collect rifles at Fort Benton on the uppermost navigable reach of the mighty Missouri river.
That night he fell off the boat and disappeared into the murky waters below. His body was never found.
Was he drunk, was it an accident, did he suicide, was he murdered? The jury remains out on Meagher's fate. The only certainty is all the key eye witnesses lied after the fact.
If this sounds like the plot of a book, well, yes, that is my intention. The 200th anniversary of his birth is August 3, 2023, so there's my deadline.
Now if you'll excuse me, there's the mid 19th century history of three continents I need to master.
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