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PADDY AT HOME.
* * * * * *
[Illustration: ORIGINAL AND ONLY GENUINE.
COUGHS, COLDS, ASTHMA, BRONCHITIS.]
DR. J. COLLIS BROWNE’S CHLORODYNE IS THE GREAT SPECIFIC FOR CHOLERA
DIARRHŒA, DYSENTERY.
Dr. J. COLLIS BROWNE’S CHLORODYNE.--Dr. J. C. BROWNE (late Army
Medical Staff) DISCOVERED a REMEDY to denote which he coined the word
CHLORODYNE. Dr. Browne is the SOLE INVENTOR, and, as the composition
of Chlorodyne cannot possibly be discovered by Analysis (organic
substances defying elimination), and since the formula has never been
published, it is evident that any statement to the effect that a
compound is identical with Dr. Browne’s Chlorodyne _must be false_.
This Caution is necessary, as many persons deceive purchasers by false
representations.
DR. J. COLLIS BROWNE’S CHLORODYNE.--Vice Chancellor Sir W. PAGE WOOD
stated publicly in Court that Dr. J. COLLIS BROWNE was UNDOUBTEDLY the
INVENTOR of CHLORODYNE, that the whole story of the defendant Freeman
was deliberately untrue, and he regretted to say it had been sworn
to.--See _The Times_, July 13th, 1864.
GENERAL BOARD of HEALTH, London, REPORT that it ACTS as a CHARM, one
dose generally sufficient.
Dr. GIBBON, Army Medical Staff, Calcutta, states: “2 DOSES
COMPLETELY CURED ME of DIARRHŒA.”
_From_ SYMES & CO., Pharmaceutical Chemists, Simla. _Jan. 5, 1880._
_To_ J. T. DAVENPORT, London.
DEAR SIR,--We congratulate you upon the widespread reputation
this justly-esteemed medicine has earned for itself all over the
East. As a remedy of general utility, we much question whether a
better is imported, and we shall be glad to hear of its finding a
place in every Anglo-Indian home. The other brands, we are happy
to say, are now relegated to the native bazaars, and, judging from
their sale, we fancy their sojourn there will be but evanescent.
We could multiply instances _ad infinitum_ of the extraordinary
efficacy of DR. COLLIS BROWNE’S CHLORODYNE in Diarrhœa and
Dysentery, Spasms, Cramps, Neuralgia the Vomiting of Pregnancy,
and as a general sedative, that have occurred under our personal
observation during many years. In Choleraic Diarrhœa, and even in
the more terrible forms of Cholera itself, we have witnessed its
surprisingly controlling power.
We have never used any other form of this medicine than Collis
Browne’s, from a firm conviction that it is decidedly the best,
and also from a sense of duty we owe to the profession and the
public, as we are of opinion that the substitution of any other
than Collis Browne’s is a deliberate breach of faith on the part
of the chemist to prescriber and patient alike.--We are, Sir,
faithfully yours, SYMES & CO., _Members of the Pharm. Society of
Great Britain, His Excellency the Viceroy’s Chemists_.
DR. J. COLLIS BROWNE’S CHLORODYNE is the TRUE PALLIATIVE in NEURALGIA,
GOUT, CANCER, TOOTHACHE, RHEUMATISM.
DR. J. COLLIS BROWNE’S CHLORODYNE is a liquid medicine which assuages
PAIN of EVERY KIND, affords a calm, refreshing sleep WITHOUT HEADACHE,
and INVIGORATES the nervous system when exhausted.
DR. J. COLLIS BROWNE’S CHLORODYNE rapidly cuts short all attacks of
EPILEPSY, SPASMS, COLIC, PALPITATION, HYSTERIA.
IMPORTANT CAUTION.--The IMMENSE SALE of this REMEDY has given rise to
many UNSCRUPULOUS IMITATIONS. Be careful to observe Trade Mark. Of all
Chemists. 1s. 1½d., 2s. 9d., and 4s. 6d.
SOLE MANUFACTURER,
J. T. DAVENPORT, 33 Gt. Russell St., W.C.
_Dr. BROWNE coined the word CHLORODYNE to designate his discovery,
therefore to apply the word to other preparations is dishonest._
* * * * * *
PADDY AT HOME.
(“Chez Paddy.”)
by
THE BARON E. DE MANDAT-GRANCEY.
Translated by Alice Pullein Morton.
Fourth Edition, Revised._
London:
Chapman and Hall, Limited,
11, Henrietta Street, Covent Garden.
1888.
Richard Clay and Sons,
London and Bungay.
DEDICATION.
H.R.H. THE COUNTESS OF FLANDERS HAS DEIGNED TO
ACCEPT THE DEDICATION OF THIS BOOK.
PREFACE TO THE ENGLISH EDITION.
Agriculture has been subjected for some years past in all parts of
Europe, and particularly in France, to a crisis so intense and terrible
as only to be compared to that which Italy passed through at the time
when, by the extinction of piracy in the Mediterranean, the transport
of grain from Egypt and Algeria to Rome became possible. The effect
of that measure was to ruin the agriculture of the peninsula, and to
compel the rural population to exile themselves from their country; but
it must be admitted that the result in the end was to benefit all the
nations of the Mediterranean coast by enabling them to participate in
the advantages of civilisation, which until then had been the appanage
of a very small number. This economic revolution, disastrous as it was
to the Roman Empire, proved beneficial to humanity.
I am absolutely convinced that the application of the discovery
of steam, to diminish the spaces which separate us from the
thinly-populated continents of America and Australia, must bring about
an analogous revolution--that is to say, a more equal division of
wealth, and a more logical distribution of the human race upon the
surface of the globe. I understand very well that those who can set the
love of humanity before the love of country will rejoice at this--but I
am not one of them.
I believe that for certain countries success in the contest of
competition is impossible. In those countries a large emigration is
the only remedy. With us in France it is different. I believe we can
compete, and compete successfully, when aided by protection, and I am
glad to recognise the fact that most of the continental nations adopt
this policy, for it is the only one which, in my opinion, will preserve
to the Caucasian race and to European civilisation the position which
they hold at the head of mankind.
I have been to seek in Ireland the confirmation of these theories. I
believe I have found it there. I know how repugnant such ideas will be
to some, and that possibly they may call forth but little sympathy from
the mass of English readers; I have therefore been desirous of offering
these few words of explanation in order that they may understand the
spirit in which this book has been conceived and written as it is--by a
Frenchman for Frenchmen.
“_Traduttori! tradittori!_” says an Italian proverb, and this I had
so forcibly in my mind that I had some hesitation when Mr. Chapman
did me the honour to offer to publish an English translation of my
book. I know well the difficulty of translating a book of this style,
however intimate the translator may be with the two languages; and
I should never have thought it possible for any one to succeed so
completely in rendering even the slightest thoughts of the author, as
has been accomplished by Mrs. Morton, who has so kindly served me by
interpreting me to the English public. I may perhaps be permitted to
offer to her here some expressions of my gratitude and of my admiration
for her literary talent, which I have felt so strongly while reading
the proof sheets.
EDMOND DE MANDAT-GRANCEY.
_17th July, 1887._
PREFACE.
Ireland and France are still united by so many sympathetic memories
that we have watched all the incidents of the struggle undertaken
by the unfortunate Irish against England with the keenest interest.
This struggle has now lasted nearly three hundred years, but the
Irish have never despaired. They have always preserved their faith
and their nationality unsullied. England has tried every means for
their subjection. First--extreme repression. We may say that until
the commencement of this century, the brutality and perfidy she has
displayed, surpass all that one could imagine. How, for instance, can
we allude calmly to the Bill (2 Anne, C. VI. § 3) which provided that
if in a Catholic family the eldest son became a Protestant, he might,
through that alone, lay claim to the property of all his relations who
remained Catholic; the latter only retaining the usufruct, and being
then obliged to remit a portion of the rents to him. This law has
been repealed; but it was not until 1829 that a Catholic member could
sit in Parliament. These measures were quite inadequate to advance
matters one single step. The two races always refused to assimilate.
England herself has been conquered, and the Norman invaders were not
too merciful towards the Saxons. However, the fusion took place so
rapidly that at the end of one or two centuries there was no longer any
distinction between the two peoples.
But it appears as though the Norman race in blending with the Saxon,
had lost all its powers of assimilation. From that time England has
made many conquests. Nearly everywhere she has scrupulously respected
the customs, the religion, and even the prejudices of the vanquished.
And yet neither in Canada, in India, nor anywhere else has she ever
been able to assimilate the conquered race, in spite of the material
progress that she often brings them, whilst the Spaniards or the
Portuguese, who used the most abominable means to conquer their
colonies, who did nothing for them, who exhausted them in every
possible way, still managed to completely modify the nationality of the
races with whom they were dealing, so that after they regained their
freedom these colonies remained Spanish or Portuguese in language,
customs, and religion.
It therefore seems as though modern Englishmen have an absolute
inaptitude for the assimilation of foreign races. From 1829 they have
done all in their power to win submission from Ireland by kindness,
since they could not conquer it by violence. Everything that we hear
about the state of this unhappy country shows us that these attempts
have not been more successful than the former ones.
Now Mr. Gladstone wishes to try a third experiment. He says that
unquestionably the union between Ireland and England has, until now,
been a most unhappy one. We have only to look at the map to see that
they must live under the same political legislation. A divorce is
impossible. Let something like a judicial separation be tried; each
one would regain liberty to a certain extent, and there would only be
left those details under the old dual regulations which it would be
absolutely impossible to deal with separately. This is the programme
now laid before the English people. Has it any chance of being accepted
by the parties interested? And then if it is adopted, what influence
would it have over the future of the two countries?
I have often asked myself these questions, sympathising with one side
when reading the excited debates in the House of Commons, with the
other when hearing of the lamentable state of Ireland. But I seem to
catch a glimpse of one view of the question that no one has yet alluded
to. The Irish attribute their misery to England’s tyranny; the English,
indignant at the accusation, reply that the laws which rule Ireland
are the same which render the English people rich and prosperous; they
assert that the Irish have only themselves to blame for their misery.
In this discussion each starts with a fixed idea--that the misery
of Ireland must have some social, religious, or political cause. May
it not quite simply result from economical causes? The facility of
transport is tending to level the value of land and population all
over the world; and consequently it is ruining agriculture in Europe.
This evolution is only commencing amongst us, whilst the accumulation
of capital and the fertility of the soil have until now singularly
mitigated its effects. But in Ireland, where no capital exists, and
where the soil is very poor, this evolution commenced a long time ago,
and its consequences must be more terrible than anywhere else. Is it
not here that we must look for the real origin of the Irish crisis?
And if this is so, may not the events now taking place in that unhappy
country be reproduced amongst us sooner or later, if we do not guard
against them?
It was in order to verify this theory that I determined last year to go
and pass some weeks in Ireland, where I have many friends. The notes
which I now ask you to read have been collected from day to day. As far
as possible, I have named the persons who have given me information,
and designated by their right names the localities through which I
passed. But I have been forced to break this rule three or four times,
in order not to expose my hosts to personal danger.
GRANCEY, _April, 1887_.
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER I.
PAGE
THE STORY OF A MINISTER, HIS SECRETARY, AND A PAIR OF
SATIN SHOES--MR. R----’S THEORIES--LONDON--ENGLISH
SOLDIERS--THE CHANNEL TUNNEL--HYDE
PARK--HOLYHEAD--DUBLIN--THE JAUNTING CARS--_The
United Ireland_ AND MR. O’BRIEN--_The Freeman’s
Journal_ AND MR. DWYER GRAY 1
CHAPTER II.
THE LAND LEAGUE--AN IRISH CONFESSOR--CAPTAIN BOYCOTT--A
CONSPIRATOR’S CAVE--MR. HARRINGTON--MR.
BIGGAR--THE OBSTRUCTION CAMPAIGN--MR. SULLIVAN
LORD MAYOR, POET, PATRIOT, STATESMAN, AND DIVER--A
ROUGH ELECTION MEETING--MR. SHACKLETON--A
CANDIDATE’S PROFESSION OF FAITH--PEMBROKE HOUSE 29
CHAPTER III.
ADVICE TO TOURISTS ON THE ART OF KISSING ENGLISH
WOMEN--AN IRISH INN--CASTLE CONNELL--THE
DEATH OF THE LAST OF THE O’BRIENS--BALLINACOURTY--CAPTAIN
MOONLIGHT--THE SHANNON--SIR CROKER
BARRINGTON--MR. CARDEN--LORD CLONCURRY AND HIS
TENANTS--A LAND LEAGUE HUT--MR. PATRICK HOGAN’S
OPINION OF THE LANDLORDS 79
CHAPTER IV.
LIMERICK--ADMIRABLE SELF-DEVOTION OF THE IRISH PIGS--THE
AGENTS--MALLOW--KILLARNEY--HOW WE TRAVEL
IN KERRY--MUCKROSS ABBEY--AN IRISH CABIN--DERRYGARIFF--THE
ORIGINAL HISTORY OF AN ESTATE--THE
DRAMA OF GLENVEIGH--A DINNER IN KERRY 117
CHAPTER V.
AN AGENT’S MORNING--HOW A DAIRY WAS FOUNDED--MR.
O’LEARY’S CASE--MINISTER AND ARCHDEACON--CATHOLIC
ORGANISATION IN IRELAND--THE DISTRESS OF THE TAX-PAYERS
AT KENMARE--AN INDIGNATION MEETING--THE
IRISH CONSTABULARY 160
CHAPTER VI.
DEPARTURE FROM KENMARE--A BAILIFF UNDER PROTECTION--HOW
PLAIN DAUGHTERS CAN BE ADVANTAGEOUSLY
DISPOSED OF--BLARNEY CASTLE--TRALEE--BARON
DOWSE’S SPEECH--AN IRISH MARKET--THE GRAND JURY
AND ITS PRESIDENT--MEDITATIONS 205
CHAPTER VII.
IN SEARCH OF AN AUTHENTIC CASE OF BOYCOTTING--ANGLERS
ON THE SHANNON--THE CONSTITUTIONAL--ENGLISH
EDUCATION--DEPARTURE FOR SHAUNGANEEN--MR.
THOMPSON--THE CORK DEFENCE UNION--SEVERELY
BOYCOTTED--PRETTY MISS M’CARTHY AND HER LEG OF
MUTTON--ENSILAGE IN THE OPEN AIR--THE RETURN
FROM CAHIRMEE--THE CONNECTION BETWEEN ENGLISHWOMEN’S
VIRTUE AND THE RAISING OF THOROUGHBRED
HORSES--THE ORIGIN OF HARICOT MUTTON--CHRISTMAS
NIGHT 1880 AT SHAUNGANEEN 228
CHAPTER VIII.
CONCLUSION 279
PADDY AT HOME.
CHAPTER I.
THE STORY OF A MINISTER, HIS SECRETARY, AND A PAIR OF SATIN
SHOES--MR. R----’S THEORIES--LONDON--ENGLISH SOLDIERS--THE CHANNEL
TUNNEL--HYDE PARK--HOLYHEAD--DUBLIN--THE JAUNTING CARS--_United
Ireland_ AND MR. O’BRIEN--_The Freeman’s Journal_ AND MR. DWYER
GRAY.
_July 1st, 1886._--At twenty past eight this morning I left the _Gare
du Nord_ and arrived at Charing Cross at half-past five. When we
reached Dover at three o’clock the English Custom House officers had
closely examined all the luggage carried in the hand. Others now waited
for us in London, who searched our trunks quite as minutely. They made
me unscrew the little boxes in my dressing-bag, apparently to ascertain
that they did not contain dynamite; for at the present time dynamite
causes great preoccupation, not only to the English police, but also to
a great many of Queen Victoria’s faithful subjects. I can prove this by
a story which is only a few months old, and which was related to me a
day or two ago.
It happened at the time when O’Donovan Rossa, at New York, daily
announced in his newspaper that the week would not close before all
the public buildings in London were destroyed by the exertions of
pupils who had just left the special school which he had founded at
Brooklyn for the study of the use of dynamite; and since these threats
have been corroborated by the explosions at the Tower of London and at
the War Office, public excitement had reached its highest point. One
morning when a very high official reached his office he saw a small,
strangely-shaped parcel, which Had been placed on his writing-table.
“What is that?” demanded the official, addressing his secretary.
“I do not know,” replied the other; “it was there when I came in, and
no one can tell me who put it there.”
“Oh, oh!” said the official. “I am obliged to go out for a few minutes;
be kind enough to open it and see what it is,” and the great man
precipitately left the room.
The secretary advanced to open it, but changed his mind.
“Mr. Jones,” said he to one of the chief clerks who was reading in the
next room, “the chief has sent me to the city. Will you kindly open
the small parcel you will find on the writing-table?” and he ran down
stairs.
Half an hour later when the chief returned he found the man who cleans
the office examining with an astonished face a pair of satin shoes that
the minister’s wife, who was then in the country, had sent to her lord
and master in order that they might be returned to the shoemaker.
However, for the moment dynamite seems to have become a matter of
secondary interest. Every one is thinking of the elections and of the
events passing in Ulster.
You must know that of the population of this Irish province about
fifty-five per cent. are Protestants, nearly all of Scottish origin.
For two hundred years, thanks to English supremacy, they have not
neglected a single opportunity of tormenting their Catholic neighbours,
and they say that if Mr. Gladstone’s Bill should render Ireland
independent, the positions will be reversed, and the Catholics will
lose no time in returning their persecutions with interest. Their
exasperation has therefore assumed alarming dimensions. It must also be
acknowledged their arguments are very specious.
“We have,” say they, “been brought here by the English to consolidate
their conquest. In all the southern revolts we have formed the vanguard
of the English troops. It is just because we are loyal subjects of
the Queen that we are hated by the Irish; and now England talks of
abandoning us, bound hand and foot, to our enemies.
“We maintain that in doing this she will exceed her rights. No
Government is allowed to cut the bonds that unite the different parts
of the kingdom. English we are, and English we mean to remain; and if
they intend to separate us, in spite of ourselves, we will resist,
if necessary, even in arms. And we shall soon see whether the Queen
will send her soldiers against us merely because we wish to remain her
subjects.”
With this subscriptions were organised, not only in Ulster, but in most
of the colonies; rifles were bought, volunteers were enlisted, and the
party newspapers loudly announced that an army of 75,000 men was only
waiting until Mr. Gladstone’s Bill passed before taking the field.
No doubt there was a great deal of exaggeration in all this. However,
that the movement existed cannot be denied, and from its nature it must
create very great difficulties for Mr. Gladstone if he succeeded in
passing his Bill, for he will be forced to send an English army against
Englishmen only because they wish to remain English subjects. Would
the army go? Would the soldiers accept such an odious commission? We
may well inquire, for the other day at Aldershot some drunken soldiers
invaded a Gladstonian election meeting. They beat the persons present,
treating them as rebels, and when the guard were called in they did not
conceal their sympathy for their comrades.
I also read in the _Morning Post_ a fact which appears to me very
significant. The officer who commanded the detachment which reached
Khartoum some hours too late to save Gordon--Lord Charles Beresford,
captain in the navy--is now candidate for the section of Marylebone,
in London, which he represented in the last Parliament. A rumour had
spread that he, General Lord Wolseley, and several other superior
officers who are Protestants but of Irish origin, had promised in case
of a conflict, to take the command of the Ulster volunteers. He was
questioned on this point, and this was his answer:
“They have grossly distorted my words,” said he. “I am an officer, and
I can never join men who fight against Her Majesty the Queen; but if I
were ordered to serve against my fellow-countrymen I would resign my
commission.”
It is therefore not impossible that the least skirmish in Ulster would
end, always supposing that the Bill passed, in mutiny in the English
army. The situation is consequently very serious. At least this appears
to be the general opinion. I had the good fortune to dine with several
political men this evening. Our host, a very fine old man, occupies an
important position in the magistracy. He is also a distinguished author
who has exercised considerable influence in the Liberal movement of the
last fifty years; he was the intimate friend of de Tocqueville and his
assiduous correspondent.
Mr. R----, who honoured me with a long conversation before dinner,
appeared to me deeply moved by current events. The crisis provoked by
Mr. Gladstone seemed to him so serious, that, although an old Liberal
who had belonged to the Whigs all his life, and although for some years
he had not engaged in active politics, he had not hesitated to re-enter
the arena and to take the field against his friends in favour of the
Conservatives. Naturally, his attitude produced a great impression, and
the other day he was invited to make a speech at a meeting over which
Lord Malmesbury was to preside.
The newspapers published and commented upon his speech. I told him how
much the reports given of it had interested me, and he was kind enough
to condense into a few words the thesis that he had supported.
His estimate of the situation threw such a vivid light upon the
question that I cannot do better than reproduce his words.
“What Mr. Gladstone really proposes to us,” said he, “is a
dismemberment of England. He wishes that with our free consent and
without any struggle we should submit to the loss of one of our
provinces, just as after a disastrous war, you lost Alsace.
“The wound thus inflicted upon the country would perhaps be even more
dangerous than the one that France has suffered from, because, for many
reasons, the scar would always remain open. And to whom in fact do they
propose to surrender Ireland? To a Parliament elected by herself! But
they know who the members of that Parliament would be. It would be Mr.
Parnell and his partisans, the Irish members of the present Parliament,
or rather Mr. Parnell and his followers, for no one denies the
well-known fact that the Irish Nationalists, before their nomination,
were obliged to sign an agreement which bound them to the most absolute
obedience to Mr. Parnell’s orders.
“We should therefore surrender Ireland to Mr. Parnell, and to the
National League of which he is president. Now the National League
is a society organised in America under the patronage of Irish
revolutionists and their accomplices whom they can find amongst us,
whose avowed aim is to substitute their authority for that of the
Queen. And they have so far succeeded that this irresponsible power
has been able to establish in Ireland all the elements and all the
machinery of regular authority. It raises taxes, promulgates laws, and
has tribunals which simulate justice in the application of these laws,
which are scrupulously obeyed because, whilst the enforcement of our
law is hampered by the thousand formalities which always accompany the
administration of regular justice, they use the dagger and pistol to
ensure the execution of their decrees. Hundreds of innocent lives have
already been sacrificed in this way. Their power is so great that they
have found means to render life intolerable to all who show the least
inclination to free themselves; for their spies penetrate everywhere,
and the country is so terrorised that the victims themselves dare not
complain. And now they propose that we should surrender Ireland into
the hands of these men!
“But this is not all. Is there, at least, any chance that so
dishonourable an abdication, so painful a sacrifice, would secure
peace? We assert that it would not do so. The Irish Nationalists have
no definite aspirations. They use each concession that is made to them
as an argument and basis for claiming a second. They are no longer
content to demand that Ireland should have the right of framing her
own laws; theoretically, this would still be admissible; they now wish
that she should no longer submit to the laws of the English Parliament.
As though two parts of the same nation can be ruled by different
legislatures, by two codes so entirely different, and inspired by
opposing principles. The experiment has already been tried in 1782,
and it was then so clearly proved that this combination was absolutely
impracticable, that Mr. Pitt won eternal honour by re-establishing, in
1800, that union which is so indispensable to a nation, yet which they
now dare to ask us to repeal.
“I now approach another side of the question. I have the most
profound respect for those of our fellow-citizens who profess the
Catholic religion. But, as you know, the eighty-six present members
of Parliament who have attached themselves to Mr. Parnell, owe their
election to the influence of the Catholic clergy. They are completely
and absolutely devoted to the prelates of that Church. It is therefore
these prelates who would rule Ireland. They would have the direction
of the public education. But then, what would be the fate of the
Protestant population, which is still loyal to England, whose cause
they have defended for two hundred and fifty years? You would abandon
them to their worst enemies. Would the Catholics at once proceed to
massacre them as they did in 1641? Perhaps not. Still I feel convinced,
that should troubles arise, the lives of the Protestants would be
endangered, but, in any case, you may be sure that the Catholics would
know how to render life intolerable to them.
“There is another consideration not less important than the former.
From the day that Ireland possesses Home Rule, not a single Englishman
will remain there, it would immediately be followed by a great
emigration of the richer classes. Some would go to the colonies, but
the others, in greater number, would come to England. Some of the
linen manufacturers in Belfast are already making arrangements for the
transfer of their business to the Isle of Man.
“Work, which is already scarce in Ireland, would then completely
disappear. After the masters’ emigration we should see that of the
workmen, and their influx upon the labour market in England, which is
already overcrowded, would necessarily lead to a serious fall in wages.
“You now see the probable results of separation from both the social
and economic aspects. Its consequences, from all political and military
considerations, would be still more fatal. In case of war unity is
indispensable in a great empire. It was through unity that in our
generation Italy has attained independence; it is through unity
Germany governs Europe. And it is at this moment, when every nation is
realising the necessity of strengthening the links that unite their
different parts, that the proposal is made that we should create on our
own coasts an independent, if not hostile, power....”
It appears to me that this speech, of which I can only give an epitome,
faithfully reproduces the objections which Englishmen raise against the
Gladstonian Bill. The first effect of the Bill was to throw the Liberal
Party into absolute confusion. A lady whom I met to-day said to me:
“Really, everything is upside down! My husband was in the House of
Lords; my eldest son is now a member of it; his two brothers sat in the
last House of Commons; my family has always been Liberal. During the
fifty years that I have lived in the political world I have always been
accustomed to see the Tories considered our enemies. And now, thanks to
Mr. Gladstone, we are forced to acknowledge that, for the moment, only
the Tories can save England; and all my sons have entered the field on
behalf of their former adversaries.”
It is evident that every one whom I have seen is much alarmed.
People are greatly exasperated against Mr. Gladstone, who, in order
to succeed, will not hesitate to provoke a war of classes. The
dissentients who have abandoned him have shown great loyalty to their
new allies, for, in many instances several of them have withdrawn from
the contest, leaving the field open for the Conservatives.
What will be the result of this struggle? In the general opinion of
all who were present at the dinner the elections would not throw
any light upon the situation. The Conservatives would gain a great
deal, but would not have a majority without the support of some of
the dissentients. Now the latter will vote for them and against Mr.
Gladstone on the question of Home Rule, but they will vote for Mr.
Gladstone and against the Conservatives on every other subject. It will
therefore, if these predictions should be realised, become necessary to
have a third election before long. These are some of the circumstances
in which we admire a parliamentary government.
Here I leave the English side of the question. To-morrow I start for
Ireland. I am going to live in the country governed by the Land League;
I shall see the principal heads of the Nationalist movement; in their
turn they will explain the situation to me from the Irish side; and
after hearing the _pros_ and _cons_ of the question I will endeavour to
form an opinion.
_July 3rd._--I really do not know why London should be described as a
frightful city; but it is the English who speak of it in those terms.
The French are contented to believe the report, and, as a rule, take
care not to go there. For my part I have only visited it two or three
times in my life, and have never remained more than four days at a
time, but I own that I think London is charming. I only find fault with
the distances.
In Paris one can get anywhere in twenty minutes; here the shortest
drive takes at least half an hour or forty minutes, and yet the cabs
travel faster than our _fiacres_. But what animation in the streets,
which are nearly all filled with two and sometimes four rows of
carriages following each other uninterruptedly. And, besides, I have a
weakness for the small English houses, which, without any architectural
pretensions, all look so clean and comfortable. Still, the absence of
porches for carriages (_portes cochères_) must be very inconvenient,
particularly for women. What state must their satin shoes be in when
they are obliged to cross a muddy pavement on a wet evening? We are,
perhaps, a little inclined to exaggerate English comfort. But, really,
when we have seen M. Boulanger’s untidy, bearded army, it is quite
refreshing to look at the fine English soldiers, who walk about the
streets holding a small cane in the hand. We may, perhaps, find fault
with them for looking a little too much like fashion-plates, with their
well-pomatumed hair and their small forage caps stuck over the right
ear, in utter defiance of the most elementary laws of equilibrium;
but it is always advisable that a soldier should take pride in his
appearance. Still, some of them a little exaggerate the effect. But the
Scotchmen--the Highlanders--are my delight. They exhibit their ruddy
calves, and the long plaids that hang from their shoulders, with such
amusing pride. But one should see them in India. A few years ago I was
at Singapore at the same time as a Scotch regiment. We never missed
going to see them parade and drill every evening. There was the officer
passing in front of his troops, stiff, formal, handsome as a god. The
men stood perfectly still, but their grimacing, convulsed features
indicated the revolt of the flesh against discipline; as soon as the
officer had passed the flesh asserted its right; the bayonets waved
like corn shaken by the wind. In defiance of breaking the line all
hastily bent down and furiously rubbed their legs, which resembled
zebra’s stripes from mosquito bites. It was a splendid sight.
I was staying at the Alexandra Hotel. From my windows I could see the
fine trees and green lawns of Hyde Park. I occupied the same room
four years ago. But then we formed quite a party, M. de Lesseps, the
Duc de F----, and several others. I can never help laughing at the
recollection of the disaster that awaited us. The promoters of the
Channel Tunnel had invited us to come and see the works, which were
being actively pressed forward, a little, I believe, in the hope of
forcing the hand of the English Government, which did not seem very
enthusiastic about it. At Dover they had invited us to a grand dinner
at the Lord Warden Hotel; and on the following day a special train
conveyed us to the entrance of the tunnel, at the foot of the long
white cliffs by which the railway runs--the “white cliffs of Old
England!” Everybody was in the most delightful humour, except, however,
M. Hervé Mangon, since Minister of the French Republic, who would not
unbend, but threatened a diplomatic representation because he had lost
his portmanteau.
Small trucks drawn by workmen took us to the end of the long gallery
already excavated. They had reached 1,600 metres from the shore.
Colonel Beaumont’s perforating machine bit heartily into the white
chalk, scarcely firmer than cheese, through which they daily advanced
three or four yards. We emptied a respectable number of champagne
bottles to the success of the enterprise, which to us all seemed so
certain that we treated those who hinted that it could not be opened
under two years as lukewarm partisans.
A magnificent luncheon, served in a tent, awaited us when we came
out. We recommenced drinking the finest champagne. Every one thought
of making his little speech, when suddenly we saw a gentleman arrive,
who handed to the president, Sir Edward Watkin, a paper resembling an
official document. He hastened to open it, and commenced reading it
aloud. It was an order from the Board of Trade, I believe, commanding
that the works should be stopped at once.
The particulars of this order are amusing. The collection of English
laws is voluminous, for none of them are ever annulled. However, they
had the greatest trouble in the world to find a law that applied to
our case. They were obliged to content themselves with a statute
dating from the Saxon Heptarchy, which “forbade the establishment of
communications with foreign lands.” The punishment threatened by this
statute was not a very agreeable prospect, but one could be sure that
after the sentence was executed the condemned would not protest against
it. For it was clearly explained that first his head would be cut off,
then his body divided into thirteen pieces; and one piece would be sent
to each of the thirteen chief cities in the country, to ornament its
principal gate.
I remember that when Sir Edward, who did not appear to take all these
details very seriously, reached this point he interrupted his reading,
and piously raising his eyes towards heaven, he exclaimed:
“I hope that her most gracious majesty, taking into consideration the
small size of her humble subject, will deign to make an exception in my
favour, and allow the number of pieces to be reduced. I fear that some
of the cities would be deprived of their share of me, but at least the
others would haw a reasonably-sized piece!”
This reflection provoked peals of laughter from the honourable company,
in which the official who had brought the order joined. He was invited
to sit down, and he also began to drink champagne with marvellous
good will. Sir Edward was not cut in pieces, but the Channel works
were effectively stopped, and God knows whether they will ever be
recommenced. I always think of this story when I see the English
struggling with any difficulties. No one knows how to harmonise their
principles and their interest better than they do. The real reason of
their opposition to this unfortunate tunnel is that they foresee that
its construction would deal a severe blow to their coasting trade.
But since, after two hundred years of close protection, they have now
constituted themselves the apostles of free trade, they cannot possibly
own that these considerations affect them. Others might have been
embarrassed by this affair. They at once discovered the famous old
Saxon law. It is the same thing with American cattle. They begin to
see that agriculture will become impossible in England if cattle are
imported too freely. So they have discovered an admirable method of
arranging matters. Instead of stopping the imports by a Custom House
officer, they employ a veterinary surgeon. The cattle are allowed
to disembark, but as soon as they are landed the sanitary inspector
examines them, declares that they are diseased, and has them killed on
the spot. I feel sure that the English will evade the Irish difficulty
by some duplicity of the same nature.
After passing my day in driving about, towards six o’clock I went and
sat in Hyde Park to watch the carriages and riders passing by. The
latter are much less well cared for than we are in Paris. That dear
Allée des Poteaux is replaced by a straight avenue, about a mile long,
bounded by rails. On each side there is a footpath, and beyond that a
road for the carriages.
I think that the equipages are much less brilliant than formerly. The
number of imposing, fat, red-faced coachmen, with silk stockings and
powdered wigs, has certainly diminished. However, one still sees a good
many of those fantastic liveries in which Englishmen delight. There are
some in shot-colours; I saw one of pale green, with cuffs, facings, and
collar of red, braided with gold. I fancy, too, that the horses--at
least the carriage horses--are strikingly inferior to the former
standard.
This is all easily explained. Here, as with us, if not the largest
fortunes, at all events the secondary incomes are seriously reduced.
Commerce is weakened, industry is declining, and agriculture is utterly
ruined. There are no English landowners who have not been obliged
to grant a reduction of 15, 25, and sometimes 50 per cent. to their
farmers; and it appears that in Ireland things are still worse. It is
quite natural that luxury should suffer from this state of things. I
hear that it must even be more affected by and by, and that if there is
still so much outward appearance of wealth, it is because people are
getting into debt. It is the same amongst us.
Women leave their carriages, and walk on the paths, or pause in groups,
chatting with the riders as they pass. But if the horses have greatly
deteriorated I think that the dresses have considerably improved. Some
of them are charming. Æstheticism has disappeared, or nearly so. My
friend Mr. Burnand has very effectually caricatured its eccentricities
in _Punch_. But, since action always involves reaction, the fashion,
after going to an excess of poetry, is now inclined to fall into the
opposite extreme. Lady Harberton has invented what she calls a divided
skirt; it practically consists of Zouaves’ trousers. Another lady
proposes a Greek costume; not that of Venus, but the arrangement worn
by those antique statues that are really draped. A third suggests yet
another, which perhaps has more chance of being adopted by a certain
class, to whom it might be useful. There is but one button to unfasten,
and it falls off. It appears that all these ladies preach by example,
and have already a fair number of disciples. But I only quote what I am
told, for I have not been fortunate enough to have an opportunity of
judging the effect produced _de visu_.
At seven I tore myself away from the contemplation of so much beauty,
and drove to Euston Station to catch the Dublin mail, which leaves
London at 8.20. Towards two in the morning we reached Holyhead, a
small island separated from the mainland by a narrow channel, which is
crossed by a fine bridge. The railway has been brought here because it
is the nearest point to Ireland, and also because this little island
contains a superb port, where vessels find excellent shelter from the
heavy seas of St. George’s Channel. I have rarely seen such fine ships
as the steamers which carry the royal mails. They should be taken as
models when it is decided to replace the tub-like boats still used
between Calais and Dover. The one that brought me over three days ago,
_The Maid of Kent_, was two hours crossing, although we had splendid
weather. The distance is twenty-one miles. This brings the speed up to
ten and a half knots an hour. The Holyhead packet reached Ireland from
England in three hours and a half, although it is sixty-three miles.
We therefore made sixteen or seventeen knots per hour--the speed of a
torpedo boat.
Whenever I chance to be on a ship, I amuse myself with noticing the
changes that have taken place in maritime customs since the time--alas!
already far distant--since I first embarked. I can remember when
the old customs and bluff phraseology were still retained even in
the imperial navy. Commissioned officers scattered a number of very
picturesque expressions amongst their orders, which, although in all
probability religiously handed down from squadron to squadron since
the time of the Bailli of Suffren, would have made a grammarian
shudder at their formation. A hundred times I have heard midshipmen or
lieutenants shout to the men, “_Bande de soldats, vas-tu haler sur le
bras de misaine?_” Or conversations of this kind: “_Combien es-tu dans
la grand-hunc?_” “_Je suis cinq_,” replied a voice from above. “_Eh,
bien, reste deux et descends trois._” In moments of great excitement
it frequently happened that a middy, and often even an officer, lent
his aid in hauling in a rope, or to assist in a manœuvre, sending at
the same time a backhander across the face of some Parisian novice, who
pretended to haul and really did nothing.
Then came the reaction. Old officers were accused of being too free and
easy. A new school replaced them who were stiff and formal in their
deportment; giving their orders in measured tones so that the boatswain
had to repeat them before they could be heard. At first this was
called _chic Anglais_, and some enthusiasts went so far as to command
in English. I knew at least two navy lieutenants, two brothers, who
would have fancied themselves lost had they shouted “_Amarrez_.” They
always said “_Belay_,” which is the English translation.
But the English school triumphed. I am ready to acknowledge its
superiority even whilst I regret the picturesqueness of old times.
Our captain of the Holyhead steamer is a worthy representative of the
former. This morning he managed to get off without a single word, a
perfect triumph of its kind.
It was only half past two, yet the dawn spread over the waters and
daylight appeared. We are five degrees farther north than Paris, and
this accounts for the short nights. The morning is splendid. In the
distance the horizon is clear, but behind us the English coast is lost
in a thick mist; its outline is only indicated by a succession of
lights that still shine against the sky. On the port side one of them
burns with marvellous brilliancy.
The entrance to the harbour of Kingstown is extremely picturesque. I
only speak from hearsay. I had made the acquaintance of two or three
pleasant fellow passengers, and we had agreed to remain on the bridge
during the crossing, but at the first movement of the vessel one of
them left us; the two others held up for a little time but at last
they also disappeared. In ten minutes I was left alone, and preferring
to avoid the contemplation of the shapeless forms writhing on deck I
went to bed and enjoyed the sleep of innocence until a steward came
and warned me that we had reached the quay. I went on dock and found
most of the passengers already leaving the steamer. A short, extremely
ragged man was threading his way between the groups of passengers, he
wore long fair hair falling to his shoulders. I found that he was a
well-known character. He is a vendor of nationalist papers. Nothing
can be more amusing than the air of triumph with which he pushes the
_Freeman’s Journal_ or the _United Ireland_ in an Englishman’s face
shouting, “Buy the last speech of the Grand Old Man.” For over here
Mr. Gladstone is the “Grand Old Man” only. The _United Ireland_ is to
_Freeman’s_ what the _Intransigeant_ is to the _Temps_, or rather since
they are both very Catholic, what the _Univers_ is to the _Gazette de
France_. But even then the comparison is a little incorrect, for the
_Univers_, even in M. Veuillot’s day, never approached the violent
style of _United Ireland_. One of its writers indulged in a significant
freak the other day. Mr. Parnell advised the Land League not to make
itself conspicuous for a short time. For some reason they were anxious
to appease England a little. The _United Ireland_ published this advice
in the following words:--
“THE CLOSE SEASON.”
“ART. 1ST.--It is forbidden to shoot landlords.”
This was in the early days of the League, and its agents displayed the
zeal of all neophytes. I remember getting an idea of the state of this
country by hearing a conversation repeated that had taken place between
two Irish children who had come to Paris with their parents. They had
been brought to play with some children belonging to one of my friends.
As they reached the garden, the little boy--aged six--said to the
little girl of seven:
“Wait a minute! I’ll show you a capital game. We’ll play at landlord
and tenant. You shall be landlord and I’ll kill you with my gun.”
These were the ideas which a small Irish boy had imbibed from his
surroundings in the year of Grace, 1882, upon the normal relations
between landlord and tenant.
It only takes half an hour to go from Kingstown to Dublin. When I
reached the station I had the pleasure of making acquaintance with the
jaunting car, the favourite carriage with the Irish, who often refer to
it in their novels.
The jaunting car is certainly the strangest vehicle that an insane mind
ever conceived. The hansom, with its seat placed like a box behind the
hood, is sufficiently original, but when one has seen a jaunting car,
one begins to think that the cab is a rational conveyance.
Evidently the first idea of the jaunting car suggested itself to an
ingenious man who found himself the owner of an old packsaddle and the
frame of a cart. To utilise these articles he put the saddle on the two
wheels and Erin was dowered with a jaunting car, the only one of her
institutions that the Saxon conquest has respected.
The coachman seats himself on one side of the rolling saddle. In my
own case he placed my trunk next to him, I installed myself on the
other seat with my feet on a thin plank, which, in case of collision,
protects the wheels at the expense of the traveller’s legs, and we
started at a very good pace to my great satisfaction.
I must own that I am delighted with this style of locomotion, which
resembles nothing found elsewhere. The Swiss carriages with side seats,
which were used a few years ago, are the only things I can compare
them to, and it was in one of those vehicles that the legendary
Englishman drove for three days round the Lake of Geneva, and then
inquired where the lake was; he had not seen it, for he was sitting on
the wrong side and his back was turned to it.
My first drive in a jaunting car also proved to me that mechanical
laws are the same everywhere. The sentinel who guarded the gates of
the Louvre could not free our kings from their consequences, and in
spite of its power the Land League has no perceptible effect in this
direction. On this occasion at every corner I was seized by an almost
irresistible force, which, taking as its fulcrum the spot a little
below the loins, where Dr. Liouville places the centre of gravity in
the human body, threatened to throw me out upon the pavement. Thanks
to the studies of my youth I recognised in this impulse the force
which learned men call centrifugal, and defying its insidious attacks
I clung to the car with both hands, quite ignoring the fact that I was
outraging all sense of local etiquette. It appears that one must no
more cling to a car in turning corners than hold on by the mane of a
runaway horse.
The first thing that strikes the attention of a stranger arriving at
Dublin is the tattered state of its inhabitants. When, owing to the
social and economical condition of a country, the majority of its
citizens are unable to afford themselves the luxury of even mending
their clothes, custom really ought to allow them to dispense with
garments entirely, at least in summer. It would be an act of charity
and every one would profit by it. On one hand the eye would not be
offended by the lamentable spectacle of an urchin who has but two
hands with which to hold the tattered fragments of stuff that once
formed a pair of trousers; on the other, the said urchin, freed
from his absorbing occupation, might perhaps do some work, which is
manifestly impossible now. I venture humbly to suggest this idea to
those conscientious philanthropists who seek every means of relieving
suffering humanity. But it is not only the street arabs that are
clothed in this way. The art of mending seems absolutely unknown here.
I am sure that I have not seen one person in ten whose garments are not
torn. My driver’s sleeve only holds on to the jacket by a miracle of
good nature, and his trousers are slit from the knee to the ankle.
At every corner of the street one sees groups of women, their hair
falling round the face, their dresses, full of holes, only reach the
knees, leaving their incredibly dirty feet and legs visible below
their rags. In hot countries poverty matters little. At Cadiz, Naples,
and Cairo we see numbers of people who are certainly quite as poor as
these. But they do not look miserable. The sun supplies nearly all they
need. If it does not feed it comforts them. A Neapolitan _lazzarone_
may only have eaten a slice of water-melon, but he looks satisfied.
Here, under the cold grey skies, in the muddy streets, these poor
creatures fill one with pity. The drawn faces, the hollow, brilliant
eyes, have a hungry look which makes my heart ache.
I went and dressed at Shelburne House, the best hotel in Dublin, which
looks over Stephen’s Green, the Hyde Park of the Irish capital. I
then took another jaunting car and drove to the office of the _United
Ireland_. Most of the heads of the Irish movement are absent from
Dublin just now through the elections, but the newspaper editors are
naturally at their posts and I wish to make the acquaintance of the two
most important of them--Mr. O’Brien, editor of the _United Ireland_,
and Mr. Dwyer Gray, editor and owner of the _Freeman’s Journal_, to
both of whom I have letters of introduction.
To-day the elections commence. I say commence, because in England
things are not managed in the same way that they are at home. When an
election is about to take place the Queen issues an official notice,
a writ, to each electoral division by a special officer. Committees
are then formed and each candidate must be nominated to the sheriff
within a given time by a specified number of the electors. At the same
time money for the purposes of the election must be placed in his
hands--such as placards, notices, &c. &c. Of course this sum varies,
with the number of voters, but it seldom exceeds more than 120_l._ or
160_l._
If at the expiration of the fixed term only one candidate has been
nominated there is no need to take a ballot. The candidate is declared
elected and the business is settled. If, on the other hand, and
naturally this occurs the most frequently, two or three candidates
have presented themselves in time, the sheriff fixes a date for the
election, which takes place by secret voting, in the same way as with
us, only in a polling booth.
These formalities are all essential. The omission of a single detail
would render the election void. A certificate bearing the name of a
candidate who has not formerly deposited his nomination is of no legal
value and, the most singular thing is, that a member, whose election
was invalid, is at once replaced by his opponent. I must add that in
case of appeal, the cause is heard, not by Parliament, but in the
ordinary law courts.
This legislation seems to me infinitely more reasonable than our own,
except in a few details. In the first place, it prevents the scandalous
invalidations which we see in France, and which are sure to occur when
they are pronounced by men who are both judges and partisans. The
idea of declaring a candidate elected because he has no opponent also
strikes me as a good one. It may not often happen in France, but it
sometimes occurs, and then what is the use of disturbing a hundred or
a hundred and fifty thousand voters, since the result is a foregone
conclusion and cannot injure any one’s interests? For if a minority
wishes to reckon its strength by rallying round a name, there is no
reason it should not announce its intention by a settled date.
But these arrangements have only existed a few years. They put an
end to the formidable and legendary abuses of English elections.
They were also effectual in reducing the candidate’s expenses to an
enormous extent. An election amongst our neighbours is now far less
onerous than with us. When the last elections took place in France, the
conservatives spent about one franc upon every registered voter, and
in many departments the republicans far exceeded this amount, thanks
to the enormous sums placed at their disposal by the Government, sums
probably raised from the Tonquin grants. In England the authorised
expenses amount, according to the figures which have been given to me,
to fifty or sixty centimes (5_d._ or 6_d._) per voter. Now the electors
are less numerous than with us, for universal suffrage does not yet
exist, and it appears that these expenses are very little exceeded.
I had the good luck to find Mr. O’Brien in his office with another
member of Parliament, who had also been elected without opposition.
Mr. William O’Brien was born at Mallow, in 1852. His career has been
very eventful. After leaving the small college of Cloyne, where he had
completed his studies, he threw himself headlong into Fenianism, whilst
his brother, with a Captain Mackay, won a great reputation in the south
of Ireland by the audacity they displayed in attacking several police
stations, with the object of procuring arms for the insurgents. At
last they were arrested. This Mr. O’Brien died in prison of a chest
complaint, his death being hastened, so they say, by the governor’s
neglect. His father died on the same day--a singular co-incidence.
William O’Brien then suddenly found himself at the head of a family,
but without any resources. A pamphlet that he published by Captain
Mackay’s advice, won him an appointment to the _Cork Daily Herald_, one
of the best papers in the south. In 1876 he came to Dublin, and was
attached to the editor’s staff of the _Freeman’s Journal_. There Mr.
Parnell found him in 1881, and placed him at the head of the _United
Ireland_, which was just being started as the Land League’s official
newspaper.
Since this time Mr. O’Brien has waged perpetual war against England,
a war which has doubtless endeared him to his fellow-citizens, for
having succeeded, in 1882, in wresting, by 161 votes against 89, the
seat of Mallow from a Conservative; he has since that date always been
re-elected without opposition.
No one can pass through a career like Mr. O’Brien’s without making
many enemies; but he must possess very fine qualities, for even his
bitterest opponents acknowledge the perfect respectability of his
life. In every one’s opinion he is a sincerely pious and exceedingly
charitable man. Nearly all the money he earns, and he earns a great
deal, is spent in good works. Last year, at the end of a political
lawsuit, his opponent was sentenced to pay him 1,000_l._ damages
and interest. With one stroke of the pen he gave it all to charity.
Physically he is rather a small, dark man, who looks older than he
is, in spite of the brightness of his eyes which shine through his
spectacles. He has all the appearance of an enthusiast, and I believe
that he is absolutely convinced of the justice of the cause that he
serves without a mental reservation and with the most absolute devotion.
I will not record our conversation here, because it differed very
little from the conversations that I had with other chiefs of the Land
League. I prefer to discuss them all together and then sum up the
information that I have collected. If I do not make this rule I shall
repeat myself. When I left the office of the _United Ireland_, I was
driven to that of the _Freeman’s Journal_, where I saw Mr. Dwyer Gray.
Mr. E. Dwyer Gray is the son of a man who has played an important part
in the political history of contemporary Ireland, Sir John Gray was
the owner of the _Freeman’s_, which, even in his time, brought in, so
they say, 200,000 francs, 8,000_l._, per annum. When I remember the
trouble our papers have to pay their expenses I cannot understand the
financial prosperity of English and American journals. The _Freeman’s_,
which, after all, is only a small provincial newspaper, prints forty
thousand copies; its size almost equals the _Times_; it keeps a staff
of seven shorthand writers in London, who telegraph daily by a special
wire the debates in the House; it publishes very well written foreign
correspondence, yet it brings in a great deal more since it has been
in Mr. Dwyer Gray’s hands than formerly. He opened his political life
as a member of the Dublin corporation, then he became lord mayor,
and afterwards county Carlow returned him to Parliament where, as
a business speaker, he has won a good reputation amongst Parnell’s
colleagues. A converted Protestant, he represents a relatively moderate
element in politics as well as in religion. A few incidents in his
career deserve notice. In his relations with the Municipality he had
an opportunity of discovering the embezzlements of the infamous Carey,
afterwards so sadly notorious through first founding and then betraying
the Invincible Society which assassinated Lord Frederick Cavendish and
Mr. Burke in Phœnix Park, by stabs with a knife. Although Carey was
in the main a co-religionist, he did not hesitate to unmask him, and
even pursued him so energetically that, later on, during the trial of
the Invincibles, it was proved that they had once thought of ridding
themselves of him (Mr. Gray) by murder in order to avenge their chief.
Unfortunately, just then the _Freeman’s_ was engaged in a particularly
violent series of articles against the Government, and on the
evening that preceded the tragedy, the paper contained an unlucky
phrase:--“There are rats in the Castle, which must soon be dislodged!”
In ordinary times no one would have noticed this; but political
passions intervened, and this phrase was at once connected with the
murders that followed it so closely, and the, at all events, moral
responsibility of the author was carefully pointed out. Is it
necessary to add that not one serious man ever attached the least
importance to these insinuations?
I had spent some time in the office of the _United Ireland_, but I only
remained in the _Freeman’s_ a few minutes, for Mr. Gray, who was very
busy during the day, kindly invited me to spend the evening with him. I
had just seen the organs of what, in the secret government that Ireland
now obeys, corresponds with the legislative power; for the only laws
respected by the country are concocted in these two newspaper offices.
I have now to become acquainted with the executive power, _i.e._, the
ministers of the Land League; but I should first like to say a few
words about them.