A WINTER OF MEMORIES
"_Feeling is deep and still, and the word that floats on the surface
Is as the tossing buoy, that betrays where the anchor is hidden._"
--LONGFELLOW.
Mr. Forster made his notorious attack upon Mr. Parnell in February,
1883, accusing him of encouraging and conniving at murder, outrage,
and treachery. On his return home Parnell showed, as he would not
deign to show in the House, a fierce joy in the false move of his
enemies and the scorn and contempt of the lack of control which could
lead a politician of Forster's experience into such a _faux pas_ as
this personal attack on him. Here, then, he had what he wanted; in
this attack was the repudiation of those charges, made by the
"extremists" in Ireland and America, of pandering to the
Government--made by them ever since he left Kilmainham on the
Treaty--here was another cord to bind the Nationalist forces together
without in any way repudiating that Treaty. Here was a fresh weapon
given into his hand by an ex-Government official who could not govern
his personal spleen by political intelligence.
"No," he said to me, when I asked him if he did not mean to answer
Forster at all, "I shall not answer. I shall let him hang himself
with his own rope."
But the Party would not have this, and urged him so strongly that he
did--not answer--but show his contempt of the whole thing and of the
English politicians who had played their hand so badly. He said to
me before he started {220} for the House: "By the judgment of the
Irish people only do I, and will I, stand or fall," and this he
repeated in the House.
The astonishment of the House was unbounded. It had been prepared
for anything but this scornful repudiation of the right of the
English to judge him--for a downright denial of the charges made, for
a skilful fencing with the arguments. The speech of Parnell was a
challenge to war. Impassive as ever, betraying no slightest sign of
emotion, he tore up the accusations and threw them scornfully in the
face of his accuser.[1]
Some time afterwards, in an interview I had with him, Mr. Gladstone
referred to this declaration of Parnell's--that he would stand or
fall only by the judgment of the Irish people.
He said: "You know Mr. Parnell's inmost feelings better than others;
does this truly represent his mind, Mrs. O'Shea?"
I answered, as I could truly do: "Yes, Mr. Gladstone, that is his
only and absolute ideal. I may say Ireland's is the only voice he
regards as having any authority over him in the whole world."
"Yet Mr. Parnell is so much an Englishman in his coldness and
reserve?"
"He is a paradox, Mr. Gladstone, the enigma of genius herself, a
volcano capped with snow. Englishman himself, at least he is
descended from Englishmen, he hates England and the English and does
not understand them; he loves Ireland and her people through and
through, {221} understands them absolutely, and is in nature as apart
and aloof from the Irish nature as you are yourself."
The hard, flint-like eyes softened a little in the eagle face as the
G.O.M. answered with a little sigh: "I have much sympathy with his
ambitions for Ireland, Mrs. O'Shea. His is a curious personality;
you are right, I think--yes, a paradox indeed, but a wonderful man!"
At the end of June, 1883, Parnell went over to conduct Mr. Healy's
election at Monaghan (an Ulster stronghold), for which division he
was returned a month after he had quitted Richmond Prison.
He immediately afterwards (on July 4) attended the Cork banquet given
in his honour. He wrote the following letter to me to allay the
fears I had expressed in regard to certain political actions which he
here repudiates and which had reached my ears from other sources:--
MORRISON'S HOTEL, DUBLIN,
_Tuesday night._
When I received your note I at once determined to go over to you
to-morrow morning and to give up my engagement to speak at the
Cork banquet to-morrow night, as I knew my own was very much
troubled about something, and felt sure that I could comfort and
reassure her. I have since been besieged the whole evening by
entreaties and threats not to throw over Cork, and it has been
represented to me, and with truth, that half the result of the
Monaghan victory will be lost if I leave Cork to the Whigs and my
enemies. I have been very much perplexed and dragged in
different ways, but have at this hour (2 a.m.) made up my mind to
ask my own Wifie to suspend her judgment for another twenty-four
hours about whatever is tormenting her, to place some little
confidence in her husband's honour and fidelity for that short
time, and to believe that he now swears to her, and that he will
repeat the same oath to her on Thursday evening, that whatever
statement has been made about him which is calculated to {222}
lower him in his wife's opinion in the slightest degree is a foul
lie.
I feel that I can ask this of my own Wifie, and that she will not
withdraw her confidence and love from her own husband until he
can return and defend himself.
I shall leave for Cork by to-morrow morning's train at nine
o'clock, speak at banquet, and return by night mail the same day
to Dublin, and be in time to leave Dublin by mail train for
London on Thursday morning. Let me know at Palace Chambers where
I shall see you on Thursday evening.
Trust your husband, and do not credit any slander of him.
AVONDALE, RATHDRUM,
2 _a.m., July_ 4, 1883.
MY DEAR MRS. O'SHEA,--I seize a vacant moment to write you a few
words, as it does not look as if Irish affairs would permit me to
see you for some time longer. Perhaps even a week or ten days
may pass by before I can see Eltham again. I also wish you to
forward enclosed to Captain O'Shea, as I have not got his address.
I have had several conversations with Fr. White, who is a very
superior man, and has impressed me very much.
I intend to make it my first business to look up West Clare, and
trust that Captain O'Shea may be able to meet me there.--With
best regards, yours always sincerely,
C. S. PARNELL.
MORRISON'S HOTEL, DUBLIN,
_Tuesday._
MY DEAREST WIFIE,--Your letters received, and always give me the
greatest happiness to read.
Please continue writing. I will make arrangements to have them
kept out of sight here.
Shall see him[2] Wednesday evening or Thursday morning, and do
what I can. I fear his position in Clare is irretrievable.--With
best love, YOUR HUSBAND.
{223}
AVONDALE,
_Sunday._
MY DEAR MRS. O'SHEA,--Will you kindly direct, enclose, and post
enclosed.
Many thanks for your letter, also for two from Captain O'Shea, which
I will reply to shortly.--Believe me, in haste, yours very truly,
CHAS. S. PARNELL.
Just before Christmas in 1883 I took a furnished house in Brighton
for three months for my children. I had arranged to go into a house
in Second Avenue, which both Parnell and I liked, but Willie came
down and insisted on my taking one facing the sea in Medina Terrace;
so I (with difficulty) got out of my former agreement, and certainly
the house Willie chose was very much pleasanter, owing to its close
proximity to the sea.
Willie undertook to stay here to be with the children while I went
back to my aunt (coming myself to Brighton for one or two days in the
week).
Willie asked Parnell to come and stay. He did so, and Willie and he
discussed the Local Government Bill at all hours, as Parnell wished
to find out what the views of Mr. Chamberlain and the Tories
were--better ascertainable by Willie than others.
I went back to my aunt for Christmas Eve. It was bitterly cold, and
as the old lady never cared for festivities, she was soon glad to
shut herself up in her warm house and "forget in slumber the foolish
junketings I permit in my domestics, my love."
There was snow that Christmas, very deep at Eltham; and Parnell, who
had joined me there, walked round the snowy paths of my aunt's place
with me in the moonlight. Now and then he moved with me into the
shadow of the trees as a few lads and men, with the inevitable cornet
and {224} trombone of a village "band," plunged through the drifts on
their short cut to the old house. There they sang Christmas carols
to their hearts' content, knowing they were earning their yearly
bonus, to be presented with a polite message of her "distaste" for
carol singing by "Mrs. Ben's" (as she was affectionately called in
the village) man-servant the next morning.
Parnell and I enjoyed that pacing up and down the wide terrace in the
snowy moonlight. The snow had drifted up against the old urns and
the long, low balustrade that divided the north and south lawns; and
the great shadows of the beech trees looked unfamiliar and
mysterious--pierced here and there, where the blanket covering of
snow had dropped off, by the cold glitter of moonlight on the
whiteness.
Right away to the south lay the "Chase," leading away to Chislehurst,
wide, cold, and lonely in the moonlight, and I told Parnell that the
cloud shadows that flitted over the glistening whiteness were the
phantoms of the hunters of King John's time, who used to hunt over
this ground, renewing their sport in the moonlight.
Parnell loved to hear these little imaginations, and I loved to tell
them to him for the sake of seeing the grave smile come, and of
hearing the naïve "Is that so?" of his appreciation.
We walked up and down in the moonlight till the carols died away, and
we heard the church clocks strike twelve. Then we stood together to
listen to the Christmas bells sound clear and sharp from many
villages on the frosty air, while Parnell again spoke to me of his
belief that the soul after death resumed life in the planet under
whose influence it was born. He spoke of his belief in a personal
destiny and fate, against which it was useless {225} for mortals to
contend or fight, and how he believed that certain souls had to meet
and become one, till in death the second planet life parted them
until the sheer longing for one another brought them together again
in after ages.[3]
I said, "But it seems so lonely like that!" and he answered, "It is
lonely; that is why I am so afraid always of death, and why I hope
with every bit of me that we shall die together."
The next day I went to Brighton to see the children for Christmas,
and in the New Year Willie went to Ireland, returning to Brighton to
stay with the children for a short time before they came home in
February and he went to Lisbon.
The following telegrams and letters show the development of affairs
during the course of this year:--
(Telegrams.)
_Feb._ 29, 1884.
(Handed in at the House of Commons Office.)
_From_ PARNELL.
_To_ MRS. O'SHEA, ELTHAM, KENT.
Thanks. Happy to accept your invitation to dinner this evening
for seven o'clock.
_May_ 30, 1884.
_From_ PARNELL, AVONDALE.
_To_ MRS. O'SHEA, ELTHAM.
Captain and I arrived safely.
(Willie went to stay at Avondale for a couple of days.--K. P.)
{226}
_May_ 31, 1884.
(Rathdrum Office.)
_From_ PARNELL.
_To_ MRS. O'SHEA, ELTHAM.
Captain leaves here to-morrow (Sunday) morning, and leaves
Kingstown to-morrow evening.
DUBLIN,
_Sept._ 10.
Willie is looking very well indeed, in fact much better than I
have ever seen him before.
I hope soon to be through pressing business here and in country,
and to be able to leave on Saturday.--Yours, C. S. P.
_Friday, Oct._ 28, 1884.
MY DEAR MRS. O'SHEA,--I shall be at Dover for a few days longer,
and afterwards propose visiting the Netherlands and returning
through Paris. If I thought that Captain O'Shea would soon be in
England I should wait for him, but if not should take my chance
of meeting him in Paris on my return.
My stay in the Netherlands will not exceed three days, but I
shall remain in Paris for at least a similar period. I say "the
Netherlands" because I don't yet know whether I shall have to go
to Holland or Belgium or both. Kindly let me have a line or wire
to former address.--Always yours,
CHAS. S. PARNELL.
I was ill at the time the following letters were written, and Captain
O'Shea was coming to Eltham a good deal.
ELTHAM, 1884.
Should have come sooner, but could not get away. There was an
explosion of a bomb at the Home Office just before I left; it
blew down a large piece of the front wall and did a great deal of
damage, they say.
I will not go near the hotel to-night if I see a crowd there,
{227} and will leave early in the morning and come down here to
breakfast.
ELTHAM,
_Friday,_ 4 p.m.
I came down here late last night and was immensely relieved to
hear that you were better.
I slept very comfortably here last night, and had an excellent
breakfast this morning, which Phyllis brought me.
Am now going up to London to settle the report of Labourers'
Committee, which had not time to attend to yesterday, and hope to
be back about eleven o'clock.--Yours, C. S. P.
ELTHAM.
Do you think I had best wait here or go up to London and wait for
a telegram from you?
We finished our committee yesterday, so if he[4] goes early I
could return perhaps early enough to see you this evening for a
few minutes.
I felt very much relieved by your letter last night. However, it
is evident you must take great care.
If you think I had best not wait, will you telegraph? Otherwise
see me later, when I will wait.--Yours.
ELTHAM.
Many thanks for kind note.
I am going to London now, and hope to return reasonably early, as
the debate is not likely to last long. I do not feel the cold at
all.
There ought to be no difficulty in my seeing you to-morrow, and I
will manage it.
I do not like your having a headache, and you must really take
care of yourself and not get up too soon.--Yours always.
I am obliged to go up early to attend Labourers' Committee, which
meets at eleven to-day to consider its final report.
Please send me telegram to House if you can, as I ought to be
able to return early this evening.
Phyllis is looking after me first rate.--Yours.
{228}
Parnell was always unselfish and most considerate when I was ill, and
once when I was very weak after an illness of some duration he
returned home to Eltham in broad daylight in a hansom cab,
triumphantly supporting one end of a large couch, the other end of
which spread its upholstered length over the roof. This invalid's
chair he with the help of my maids, arranged in my sitting-room,
adjusting its complicated "rests" with earnest abstraction, after
which he led the procession up to my room, and in spite of my amused
protests carried me down and placed me on the couch amid cushions and
shawls, and spent a happy evening in "watching me" as I lay
comfortably on my new possession.
In 1884 we ran down to Hastings for a few days in the middle of the
Session, when my aunt's old friend came to stay with her and gave me
freedom. Parnell delighted in these sudden "run-away" visits to the
sea when the House was in full swing of business, and said they
braced and freshened him up more than anything else could do. We
stayed at the Queen's Hotel, and Parnell revelled in the sudden
freedom from politics--casting all thought and care from him as we
walked by the sea and gave ourselves up to the enjoyment of the fresh
salt air.
He was hugely pleased, on going into a shop in Robertson Street for
notepaper, to find some embossed with the monogram "K.P." in blue and
gold. He declared it was a good omen, and bought me more boxes of it
than I could use for many years. He also bought me a little red
diary, after long and earnest efforts in selection. Red he did not
like much, as he said it was the sanguinary hue of English
oppression; but diaries can apparently only be bound in red, green,
or purple, and purple was the {229} colour of sorrow, and green the
most painful expression of all ill-luck!
This diary was to make up to me for my natural indignation at,
nearly, his first act on returning to me from some absence. He had
gone over to the fire and caught sight of my diary, bound in green,
that I had inadvertently left on the mantelpiece. With an
exclamation of horror he had thrown it straight into the fire,
holding me back from the rescue I struggled to attempt, and only
replying to my indignant protests that he was sorry if the contents
were really so valuable as I said, but anything between green covers
was better burnt!
In these short visits to the seaside we always looked about for a
house that Parnell could buy later on, but as he always kept a
regretful eye upon Brighton, where it was inexpedient that we should
be seen much together, we never really settled on one for purchase,
though he rented one in Eastbourne with that idea, only to discover
that a brother of his was living there. When we had a few hours to
spare we had very happy times hunting round Sussex in the
neighbourhood of Brighton (Brighton air did him so much good), hoping
to find a suitable country house, but the train service was always a
difficulty, except in the town itself.
[1] "The time will come," said Parnell in this speech, "when this
House and the people of this country will admit that they have been
deceived, and that they have been cheered by those who ought to be
ashamed of themselves, that they have been led astray as to the right
mode of governing a noble, a brave, a generous and an impulsive
people."
[2] Captain O'Shea.
[3] On the day of Parnell's death, October 6, 1891, a new planet was
discovered.
[4] Captain O'Shea.
{230}