THE PARNELL COMMISSION
"_For none on earth so lone as he
Whose way of thought is high and free,
Beyond the mist, beyond the cloud,
Beyond the clamour of the crowd._"
I had long since had a high paling put round my garden to screen it
from the inquisitive eyes of persons who had, until this was done,
the impertinence to lean over the short stone wall and railings to
watch Parnell as he went in and out. This new paling was seven feet
high. On the carriage gates there was bronze ornamental work, thick
and heavy. Once this was cut through by someone unknown and fell,
the next time the gate was opened, upon the head of the groom, as he
stooped to unbolt it.
This little "accident" was no doubt intended for Mr. Parnell's or for
my benefit, and the fact that the young man's arm was pushed against
the gate, above his head, as he stooped to ease the bolt, doubtless
saved him from a cracked skull. As it was, he was badly bruised and
cut, some fifty pounds of bronze work falling partly upon him. After
this he examined the work on the other gate, and, finding that this
also had been cut through, with the help of the gardener lifted it
off before further damage was done. This pointless and malignant
spite might easily have had far more serious consequences, since my
children were going out by these gates driving their ponies, and it
was quite by chance that they had called {257} the groom to open the
gates for them, for one or other of them generally played at being
the "footman" on these occasions. The police could not trace the
perpetrators of the little pleasantry.
I then made a beautiful, thick rose-hedge at one side of this garden,
and the roses grew and flourished to such an extent that it proved an
effectual screen from the too-pressing attention of persons, who had
not, I suppose, very many interests of their own.
On the morning that the (so-called) Parnell letters appeared in the
_Times_ (March 7, 1887), they were cut out and pasted on the gate by
a person or persons unknown; and here also the perspicacity of our
local police failed to find the merrymaker.
On that day I did not give Parnell the _Times_ opened as usual for
his glance over the political reports while he breakfasted. He asked
for it, but I wanted him to finish his breakfast first, and replied:
"The _Times_ is unusually stodgy; do eat your breakfast first."
He said he must finish a bit of assaying he had left over-night
before going to London, and would not have time for papers
afterwards, so I told him of the letters, and propped the _Times_
against the teapot as usual.
He read the whole thing; meditatively buttering and eating his toast
the while. I supplied him with marmalade, and turned over the folded
paper for him so that he could read more easily.
He made no remark at all till he had finished breakfast, and
carefully clipped the end off his cigar; then, with a smile, he
tossed the paper at me, saying, "Now for that assaying I didn't
finish! Wouldn't you hide your head with shame if your King were so
stupid as that, my Queen?"
{258}
I helped him to set his chemicals right, urging on him that the thing
was very serious, and that he must attend to it; but he only replied:
"You think about it for me while I am finishing this. Now don't
spoil this for me. It will do presently!" and I subsided with the
_Times_ while he worked at his crucibles, and jotted down
results--absolutely absorbed for more than two hours, and only
brought back to politics by my call of "You absolutely must start
now."
He had a wonderful little machine--a balance that gave the weight of
almost infinitesimal parts of a grain--and this might be touched by
no one but himself. He now reluctantly covered it with its glass
case and lovingly padded it round with a cloth, lest a rough movement
in the room should put it out of balance.
I said, "Now, my King, you must attend to the _Times_. You must take
an action against them."
"No. Why should I?" struggling into his coat as I held it for him.
"I have never taken any notice of any newspapers, nor of anyone. Why
should I now?"
However, he promised me he would consult the "Party" about the
letters, and left assuring me that the English _Times_ was a paper of
no particular importance, after all.
He got home before I did that evening, and I found him on my return
weighing the infinitesimal specks of his morning's extraction of gold
with the utmost accuracy. He gave me a smile and the fire-flame of
his welcoming eyes as usual, but murmured, "Don't speak for one
moment; I'll tell you the moment I have finished this," and I had to
sit with as much patience as I could muster while he finished his
calculations. Then, coming over to me in triumph, he informed my for
once uninterested ears {259} that he had now completed the extraction
of something or other of a grain of the gold for my wedding ring.
On my firmly recalling his attention to the matter of the letters he
said wearily--all the interest and buoyancy gone--"They want me to
fight it, but it will be a terrible nuisance, my Queenie; I have seen
Lewis, and he is going to see Russell--Sir Charles, you know--and
then I am to see him again."
He was very undecided about the necessity of taking the action
against the _Times_, and more than once pointed out to me that the
opinion of that paper and its readers did not really interest him;
but, on my refusing to accept this at all, and urging that Ireland
required that he should defend himself in this, and that my view was
that of the Irish Party, he promised to take the matter seriously,
merely remarking with an amused cynicism that if Ireland wanted him
to cudgel a clean bill of health out of England she would find work
for all the blackthorns she grew.
Soon my absorbed study of the forged letters caught Parnell's
interest, he shook off his apathy, and joined my study of his
handwriting of many years, and those of the various possible (and
impossible) imitators. Once he became interested he threw himself
into it as wholeheartedly as he did into any other hobby. We spent
hours in this study of calligraphy, and made some interesting and
amusing discoveries.
After a couple of interviews with Mr. Lewis and Sir Charles Russell,
Parnell one evening asked me if I would mind seeing Lewis, as he had
expressed a wish to see me. I went therefore to Ely Place, and had
an interview with Mr. (Sir George) Lewis. After we had talked over
the situation he gave me tea, and made an appointment for another
interview in a few days' time. I put before {260} him my various
conclusions as to handwritings, one of which he considered might be
useful.
We had frequent consultations after this, and, as the time of the
trial drew near, Lewis's offices and the passages leading to it, with
the waiting rooms, were filled with the witnesses from Ireland
concerned in the trial. The case did not worry Parnell much--except
that it took up so much of our all too little leisure time, which was
so precious to us.
The following letters, written from Avondale during the anxious time
preceding the trial, will serve to show how little the matter
affected his ordinary interests.
_August_ 30, 1887.
MY OWN WIFIE,--I have been exceedingly anxious about you ever
since I left. You seemed so very ill that it has been haunting
me ever since that I ought to have stayed in London. My own
darling may write to me whenever she pleases. I was so longing
for a telegram all day yesterday, but not getting one came to the
conclusion that you had not been able to go to London.
I have been round the place here, everything going on well. The
new mine is improving, so I have been tempted to continue it for
a short while longer.
It will not be necessary for me to remain here longer than a few
days, so that whenever you are ready for me I can return.
YOUR OWN LOVING HUSBAND.
I am very well indeed.
_January_ 4, 1888.
I finished will before going to bed on Monday, and will execute
it and send it north to-morrow. Am pretty sure to be able to
return next Monday or Tuesday at latest.
MY OWN DARLING QUEENIE,--I got off all right yesterday morning,
forgetting the lamp, however, until I was in train, when I
decided upon telegraphing them from Chester to send it on at
once, which I did. I am having the carpenter to fix {261} a
strong hook in the ceiling joist for it to hang upon, and it will
be a great improvement on the present state of affairs, as the
consumption of candles is enormous, while giving very little
light. They are undoubtedly the best and safest lamps out; in
fact, absolutely safe.
One of the little lamps here was broken since, so I have
suspended the other one also, as it was no use by itself.
The room will be very nice for a large suspended lamp; it is
about 13½ feet high, by 24 feet by 20 feet.
I had only half an hour to wait at Kingstown for the train, which
I spent in the waiting-room, and a quarter of an hour at Bray.
The sea was rather rough, but not too rough for me. I studied
the swinging of a lamp minutely during the passage, and derived
valuable lessons for the new ship.[1]
Am going to Arklow in the morning. Everything going on here very
well, notwithstanding which I have been advising and admonishing
K.[2] all day.
E.[3] is here all by herself, mother being expected to-night.
Miss B. B. was very old, very ugly, and very vulgar; in fact, E.
says the worst sponge that ever got hold of my mother. She drank
nothing but whisky, and took it to bed with her.
There was dancing after theatricals till six in the morning.[4]
I am very anxious about my own love, and so glad to get telegram
to-day; expect letter to-morrow. Raining torrents all day. YOUR
OWN HUSBAND.
A couple of weeks before the action came on Parnell came home in
great amusement. Lewis had written asking him most particularly to
call, as he had had a consultation with Sir Charles Russell and
wished to report the result to Parnell. On Parnell's calling,
thinking some {262} new phase of the case had been evolved, Mr. Lewis
had "hoped he would not be annoyed," but Sir Charles and he were
rather worried about his (Parnell's) clothes, and would he very much
mind having a new frock-coat from Poole's for the trial! Parnell had
great fun with me over that Poole coat, and when it came home we
tried it on with great ceremony, Parnell stroking its silk facings
with pride, and insisting upon a back view of it in the long mirror
in my room.
Mr. Lewis inspired me with the greatest confidence, and his
charmingly deferential manner fascinated me, while the keen brown
eyes seemed to read the hidden secrets of the soul. He was always
exquisitely dressed, and, when I made some playful remark about
Parnell's new coat, he told me in confidence that Parnell's Irish
homespuns were a great trial to him--this with such earnestness that
I tried to suppress my laughter, as I explained to him what a
pleasure it was to me to be possessed of a man who was above clothes;
not below them in slovenliness, but above them and unconscious of his
coverings.
Very many years after this, long after my husband's death, this
acquaintance with Sir George Lewis served me in good stead.
Circumstances arose which rendered me very doubtful and uneasy in
regard to the probity of my trustee and solicitor, who had charge of
my whole income and the capital thereof. I had had no communication
with Sir George Lewis for very many years; but then the happy thought
struck me that he would advise me privately and disinterestedly. My
son went to him on my behalf, and it is entirely owing to the prompt
action taken by Sir George that any part of my little income was
saved to me.
{263}
My trustee had been speculating wildly, and, among that of other
clients, every penny of my small fortune had been misappropriated.
Sir George compelled the repayment of what was possible by the
discredited and ruined man, and thus saved me by his kind and
energetic intervention from absolute destitution. Apart from the
very serious loss it entailed upon me, the downfall of my trustee,
clever, good-looking and altogether charming, was a great blow to us
all. He had been so much a friend, and I and my son and daughters
had trusted him so completely.
The result of the Parnell Commission is well known. I continued to
see Mr. Lewis regularly before the case came on, and on one occasion
he asked me if I would mind going to Wood's Hotel, close by Ely
Place, to meet him on a matter that had to do with the case. This I
did, and, being early, awaited him in the coffee room. When he came
we had a long business talk about the case, and he assured me that
the issue was now completely secured. People were passing in and out
as we talked, and several I noticed passed very close to us, and
stared curiously at me before going out.
Suddenly, on observing this, I asked Mr. Lewis why he had arranged
our interview in this place instead of at his office as usual. He
made some evasive reply about a client of his who occupied a very
distinguished position--and he mentioned this personage by
name--having an appointment at the office, and disliking the fact of
any other person being received during the same hour of his visit.
I pointed out to Mr. Lewis that he was surely speaking at random, as
the person he mentioned could not be left about at his office like a
nobody while he talked to {264} me at an hotel. At this he laughed,
and asked that I should be satisfied with his reply until he saw me
again, and with this I had to be content, though I was somewhat
ruffled at his not offering a sufficient explanation of his odd place
of appointment, and I curtly refused to make another at the office
for the following week.
Our interview had ostensibly been for the purpose of discussing
certain letters I had given into his care at a former interview, but,
as he afterwards told me, he had asked those persons, who had, I
thought, stared at me in the hotel, if they could identify me with
someone who had been impersonating me with the hope of better
entangling Parnell, and of preventing him from publicly protecting
his honour for fear of dragging me into the case. The "gentlemen
from Ireland" who had had so good a look at me were forced to admit
that they had never seen me before in their lives.
Shortly before the case came on I asked Mr. Lewis if he would mind my
going to see Mr. Soames (solicitor for the _Times_). He answered, "I
do not see why you should not do so if you wish it," and to Parnell,
who had just come in, "It will be quite safe for her to see Soames."
"Yes, of course, she knows best," answered Parnell, and off I went,
pursued by Mr. Lewis's "You must come straight back here, Mrs.
O'Shea," as he put me into the waiting cab.
My waiting cab was always an acute irritation to Lewis. Alter his
first greeting of me he invariably asked me if my cab was waiting.
"Yes, of course, how else should get home?" "You are not going to
drive home!" with horror. "No, but to the station." "Pay him off,
my dear lady, and I'll send for another when I have given you some
tea," encouragingly. "But I _like_ this horse, he {265} has such
good legs." Then dear Mr. Lewis used to get intensely irritated, and
send someone flying to pay my cab to go away at once. I never dared
at this stage to tell him that I always made a compact with the
cabman that "waiting did not count."
On my arrival at Mr. Soames's office he saw me at once without any
pretence of being "too busy." In fact his office appeared almost
deserted, and he welcomed me as his "cousin." He took some time in
arranging the exact collateral degree of our relationship, but beyond
this our interview behind his closely shut glass-panelled door led to
nothing. I was desirous of finding out which way his suspicions
tended--as obviously he did not really think that Parnell had written
the letters; he, on his part, was trying to find out why I had come.
On the 1st of March, 1889, Pigott shot himself in Madrid. It was a
painful affair, and Parnell was sorry for the poor creature.
When Parnell attended the House for the first time after the result
of the Parnell Commission was made known, I was not well, and could
not get to the Ladies' Gallery, as I had hoped to do, but long before
he came I had had reports of the tremendous ovation he received; how
every section of the House--Ministers, Opposition--all rose at his
entry as one man, cheering themselves hoarse and shouting his name.
I asked him afterwards if he had not felt very proud and happy then,
but he only smiled, and answered, "They would all be at my throat in
a week if they could!" I thought of that speech a little later on.
Soon after the death of Pigott Mr. Parnell met Mr. and Mrs. Gladstone
at Mrs. Sydney Buxton's[5] "at home." {266} Almost the only comment,
when he got home was: "That's over; thank goodness!"
On May 28th, 1889, Sir Charles and Lady Russell gave a reception in
honour of the hero of the fight. Parnell hated these affairs, but,
as I pointed out to him, it would be very sad if all those people
assembled to meet him and he was not there. The reception was a time
of adulation for him from first to last, I afterwards heard, but when
Parnell came home and told me all about it he remarked, "It was all
very kind and just as troublesome as usual--or would have been had I
not discovered a pretty little brown head with friendly eyes that
looked as shy as I felt."
I answered, "Dear me, who was this charming lady? I should like to
know!"
"That is just what she was, a charming little lady, an Irishwoman.
You know, Queenie, you are the only Englishwoman I can bear! This
was Katharine Tynan; you read some of her things to me," and he went
on to speak of others at the reception, afterwards reverting to the
pleasure he had felt in meeting Katharine Tynan, who he believed
genuinely felt what all "those others" were saying.
Presumably "those others" were perfectly sincere in their
appreciation of him, but Parnell, so English in his own nature, had a
constitutional distrust of English people, and, curiously enough, he
did not understand them well, while the Irish character was an open
book to him. At a reception like this where the guests were, of
course, mostly English, Parnell would retire behind his coldest, most
aloof bulwark of exquisite courtesy, and, to use his own simile about
Katharine Tynan, "I felt as though a little friendly bird had made a
song for me in {267} an unfriendly land." We often afterwards spoke
of the "little friendly bird," and, should Mrs. Hinkson (Katharine
Tynan) ever see this book, she will know that the "Chief" appreciated
both her loyalty and her song.
Directly the result of the Parnell Commission was made known Mr.
Parnell was elected a life member of the National Liberal Club; an
election which afforded him a certain grave amusement at the time and
a query later on, when the "National Liberals" wished to depose him,
as to whether a "life member" can dare be so illogical as to continue
life without the membership.
On the 8th March, 1889, he was entertained for the second time at the
Eighty Club, and, a few days later, at a great meeting at St. James's
Hall. At both meetings the enthusiasm was so great that the whole
body of people present rose en masse as he entered, cheering, waving
handkerchiefs, and shouting his name for some time before they
allowed him to sit down.
Naturally these ovations of my hero gave me the greatest pride and
joy, but he would never allow me to say much about them.
"You see, my dear, these people are not really pleased with me," he
would say. "They thought I had written those letters, and now they
are extolling their own sense of justice in cheering me because I did
not write them. I might as wisely shout myself hoarse if a court of
law decided that Gladstone had not told somebody to rob a bank!" And
I would reply: "Well, I love to hear and read about your being
properly appreciated," only to get a reproving "You are an illogical
woman. These people do not appreciate me, they only howl with joy
because I have been found within the law. The English make a law and
bow down and worship it till they find it {268} obsolete--long after
this is obvious to other nations--then they bravely make another, and
start afresh in the opposite direction. That's why I am glad Ireland
has a religion; there is so little hope for a nation that worships
laws."
And when I persisted, "But don't you feel a little excited and proud
when they all cheer you, really you?" and the little flames showed in
his eyes as he said, "Yes, when it is really me, when I am in the
midst of a peasant crowd in Ireland. Then I feel a little as I do
when I see you smile across the street at me before we meet, but for
these others it is then I know how I hate the English, and it is
then, if I begin to feel a little bit elated, I remember the howling
of the mob I once saw chasing a man to lynch him years ago. Don't be
too pleased with the clapping of these law-lovers, Queenie. I have a
presentiment that you will hear them another way before long, and I
am exactly the same, either way!"
At the National Liberal Club, at which Sir Frank Lockwood presided,
Mr. Parnell and Lord Spencer shook hands for the first time. When
Parnell rose to speak he received a perfect ovation. He said:
"There is only one way in which you can govern Ireland within the
Constitution, and that is by allowing her to govern herself in all
those matters which cannot interfere with the greatness and
well-being of the Empire of which she forms a part. I admit there is
another way. That is a way that has not been tried yet.... There is
a way in which you might obtain at all events some present success in
the government of Ireland. It is not Mr. Balfour's bastard plan of a
semi-constitutional, a semi-coercive method. You might find among
yourselves some great Englishman or Scotsman, who would go over to
Ireland--her Parliamentary representation having been taken away
{269} from her--and would do justice to her people notwithstanding
the complaints of Irish landlordism. Such a man might be found who,
on the other hand, would oppose a stern front to the inciters of
revolution or outrage, and on the other hand would check the
exorbitant demands of the governing classes in that country, and
perhaps the result might be successful. But it would have to be a
method outside the Constitution both on the one side and on the
other. Your Irish Governor would have to have full power to check
the evil-doer; whether the evil-doer were a lord or a peasant,
whether the malefactor hailed from Westminster or New York, the power
should be equally exercised and constantly maintained. In that way,
perhaps, as I have said, you might govern Ireland for a season.
That, in my judgment, from the first time when I entered political
life, appeared to me to be the only alternative to the concession to
Ireland of full power over her own domestic interests, and her
future. In one way only, I also saw, could the power and influence
of a constitutional party be banded together within the limits of the
law; by acting on those principles laid down by Lucas and Gavan Duffy
in 1852, that they should hold themselves aloof from all English
political parties and combinations, that they should refuse place and
office for themselves or for their friends or their relations, and
that the Irish constituencies should refuse to return any member who
was a traitor to those pledges."
In July Parnell was presented with the freedom of the City of
Edinburgh. In his speech of acknowledgment he said:
"In what way could Ireland, supposing she wished to injure you, be
more powerful to effect injury to your Imperial interests than she is
at present? If you concede {270} to her people the power to work out
their own future, to make themselves happy and prosperous, how do you
make yourselves weaker to withstand wrongdoing against yourselves?
Will not your physical capacity be the same as it is now? Will you
not still have your troops in the country? Will you not still have
all the power of the Empire? ... In what way do we make you weaker?
In what way shall we be stronger to injure you? What soldiers shall
we have? What armed policemen shall we have? What cannons shall we
have? What single means shall we have, beyond the constitution, that
we have not now, to work you injury?"[6]
[1] He studied the balance of the lamp for the "new ship" he was
inventing--the one he was always trying at Brighton. (See p. 277.)
[2] Kerr, Mr. Parnell's agent and bailiff.
[3] Emily Dickinson, Parnell's sister.
[4] Mrs. Delia Parnell was giving the theatricals and dance in the
great new cattle-shed he had had built from his own plans, modelled
on the plan of the new station at Brighton.
[5] Now Viscountess Buxton.
[6] A letter of this period from Parnell to Cecil Rhodes, dealing
with the Imperial aspect of Home Rule, is unfortunately the only
important document left of the correspondence between the two, the
rest having been accidentally destroyed. Parnell had been greatly
interested in the political tactics of Rhodes in South Africa. When
in London Rhodes sought an interview, which took place at the
Westminster Palace Hotel. In the letter of June 23, 1888, Parnell
expresses his gladness at knowing that Rhodes considers that the
measure of Home Rule to be granted to Ireland should be
"thoroughgoing," and adds: "I cordially agree with your opinion that
there should be effective safeguards for the maintenance of Imperial
unity." The two men had been discussing the question of the
exclusion or inclusion of Irish representation at Westminster.
Parnell judged exclusion to have been a defect of the Bill of 1886,
and shared Rhodes's view that inclusion would facilitate the larger
measure of Imperial federation.
Parnell returned to this point in 1891 in the course of his
correspondence with Dillon and O'Brien on the question of the
leadership of the Nationalist Party. He asserted in a letter to
Gill, one of the intermediaries in these discussions, that he could
prove "by documentary evidence" that the second reading of the 1886
Bill was lost "because the Liberal leaders declined till too late to
agree to the retention of any Irish Members in any shape or for any
purpose."
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