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.
We will first describe the origin of the Land League. To fully
understand the subject, we must first trace back Irish history to
the year 1847. At that time the population, which in 1845 numbered
8,175,124, had certainly attained, if not exceeded 9,000,000. Then
as now, we may say that no manufactures existed in the country. The
population lived on the direct produce of the land. The repeal of
protection on corn had caused the almost entire disappearance of
cereals, for which the soil, and above all the climate, were always
unfavourable, and consequently, only two possible industries were
left--stock raising (and this was chiefly pig raising), and the
cultivation of potatoes. The sale of pigs sufficed to pay the taxes,
the landlord, and the few necessaries bought by the people. The
potatoes were reserved for food.
Suddenly the potato disease broke out. In a few days, of a harvest
which promised abundance, absolutely nothing was left, and by one
blow nine millions of people were left without anything to eat. This
is the simple history of the famine in 1847. And this history must
inevitably be repeated in every country that transforms its agriculture
into raising stock, and which yet aspires to support the same number
of inhabitants; for it is quite evident that a stock-raising country
cannot feed as many people as an agricultural one.
This phenomenon had already happened in Scotland at the end of the last
century. The difficulty was solved by the emigration of large numbers
of the Highlanders from several counties. The same thing is now visible
in France; and if we have not yet encountered the same consequences,
it is because our peasants are living, and for some time can still
live, on their capital. In Ireland the people had no reserve fund. The
misery was therefore awful. One can hardly believe that such things can
happen in our century; but it is undeniable that thousands of miserable
people died of starvation in the midst of their fields, just as they
might have done on a wreck in the middle of the ocean. The official
statistics registered 6,058 deaths simply caused by hunger! And the
famine preceded, and was followed by an epidemic of typhus, which
killed thirty or forty thousand persons.
It has been widely stated that the landowners behaved badly under the
circumstances; they are particularly reproached for having claimed
their rents in spite of their tenants’ terrible misery. But these
accusations have never been proved. The rents had been collected before
the famine began and at a time when no one could have anticipated
its occurrence. But here I will quote Mr. Sullivan, one of the most
advanced members of the Nationalist party, who says in reference to
this subject:--
“The majority of resident landlords really did all in their power. When
the famine appeared many landowners found themselves on the verge of
ruin. They had inherited property that was already heavily mortgaged.
The money paid for rent did not remain in their hands but went to pay
their creditors. The loss of a year’s rent brought them fatally near
seizure and bankruptcy. They knew this and yet it must be acknowledged
that a great many of them who might have escaped disaster by harshness
towards their tenants, preferred their own ruin.”
The Government on its side was far from inactive. Works were opened
in all directions for the construction of roads, with the idea of
providing employment for the population, and so many were made that
they cannot be maintained, and yet at the present time I doubt whether
another country exists where roads are more numerous than in Ireland.
I believe, therefore, it would be just to own that under the sad
circumstances, every one loyally tried to do his duty. It may be said
that the measures taken were insufficient or not cleverly managed, but
it must be remembered that the difficulties were immense, and there is
no proof that any other Government would have been more successful.
However, the memory of this terrible episode has left ineffaceable
hatred in many minds. Still it did not explode at the time. From 1852
to 1876, we may affirm that there was a very perceptible and continued
increase in the national prosperity of the country. One point should be
carefully noted, viz., that this increased prosperity coincided with an
enormous diminution of the population. We have seen that in 1845 it
numbered 8,175,124; it is estimated that in 1848 it would have reached
nine millions; in 1851 it was only 6,552,385; and in 1881, 5,173,836;
it should now be under five millions. In thirty years, emigration has
reduced the number from nine millions to five, that is by four millions
in round figures. This prosperity was rudely interrupted in 1877, and
once more the misfortune was due to a bad potato harvest.
If Ireland had still contained nine millions of inhabitants, we should
certainly have seen a renewal of the scenes of 1847; but since she had
only five millions there was no famine, in the real sense of the word,
although the misery was very great; the farmers lost eight hundred
thousand pounds, and those who paid their rent could only do so by
borrowing the money.
The harvest in 1878 was nearly as bad as the preceding one. The deficit
amounted to five hundred thousand pounds; the situation became more
strained. All the tenants were in debt, for in the preceding years
a number of banks had been established and had given them enormous
credit, and now this credit became more restricted. Many found
themselves on the verge of succumbing, and each one felt that if the
next harvest were not exceptionally good no one could escape ruin.
Anxiety was therefore at its height. And at this critical moment, in
April, 1879, the farmers in county Mayo were summoned to attend a
meeting that ought to have been held in Irishtown. The order of the day
only disclosed that its object was to study the situation. The notices
were signed by Mr. Michael Davitt.
Mr. Michael Davitt was not quite unknown in the country: his father had
been a farmer there. Being unsuccessful in business, he was forced
to abandon his farm, and to go and live in England, where he only
vegetated. At eleven years old his son was already working in a cotton
factory; there one of his arms was cut off by some of the machinery. At
seventeen he had joined the Fenian conspiracy. In 1870 he was arrested.
The Fenians had blown up a prison wall to enable some of their number
to escape. Young Davitt, implicated in this affair through receiving
explosives, was sentenced to fifteen years’ penal servitude.
However, he only remained in prison for seven years. In 1878 he
received what the English call a _ticket-of-leave_. The individual who
receives this ticket is set at liberty, but conditionally; he is still
under police supervision, and the Government has the right to imprison
him again without further trial until the end of his sentence. Mr.
Davitt’s case had been widely known. On the day that he returned to
Dublin with one of his fellow prisoners, liberated with him, 300,000
persons waited for them at the station, and the impression produced was
rendered deeper and more lasting by this man falling dead through the
rupture of an aneurism as he entered the hotel where Mr. Parnell was
waiting for them.
At this meeting at Irishtown the theory of the Land League was first
explained. Curiously enough, Mr. Davitt first thought of the idea,
but he did not make the first speech--he had missed the train, so
others opened the subject instead of him. In such a centre it could
not fail to receive an enthusiastic welcome. Thanks to an active
method of propaganda, it spread through the country so rapidly and so
successfully that a few months later Mr. Parnell summoned in Dublin a
meeting of delegates from all parts of Ireland, who were charged with
drawing up the statutes of the Association, which, under the name of
the IRISH NATIONAL LAND LEAGUE, was established on the 21st October,
1879.
The general principles which were to guide the Association, are stated
in the following declaration:--The objects of the League are--
I. To obtain a reduction of rack-rents.
II. To facilitate the acquisition of the land by those who
cultivate it.
III. To attain these ends the League will undertake--
1st. To create an organisation which will bind all the tenants
together.
2nd. To defend all those who may be threatened by the landlords
with eviction from their farms, through refusing to pay
rack-rents.
3rd.
4th. Lastly, to neglect no opportunities of forcing Government
to pass laws allowing the tenant to become the owner of the
soil he cultivates, by means of the payment of an annuity, and
under the most favourable conditions possible.
The document was signed by Parnell, President; Patrick Egan, Treasurer;
Michael Davitt and Thomas Brennan, Secretaries.
Scarcely launched, it required very little to make the League collapse.
Numerous meetings were assembled in all parts of Ireland for recruiting
adherents. Several orators, who were heard there, expressed such
advanced Socialistic opinions, that the clergy, who until then had
watched the proceedings without interfering on either side, now took
fright and protested loudly; one might have thought at one time that
war would break out. If the clergy had persevered in that attitude,
the League would probably have foundered; they would have conquered,
but the people’s minds were already so excited by the struggle that
the clergy must have compromised the preponderating influence that
they always possessed. Besides, the heads of the League hastened to
disown the imprudent words their representatives had uttered. But at
last the name of the Bishop of Cashel appeared one day in the list of
subscribers. All the prelates followed his example, and from that time
the success of the League was insured.
The clergy have been much criticised for the position they then
accepted. I believe that on the whole it was politic, and has been
productive of good results. It may be considered extraordinary that the
clerical influence should be employed in the service of an association
which furthers its designs by the use of such violent measures; but we
must add, that the League would probably have been a thousand times
more violent had not the influence of the clergy been exercised over it.
But we must not think that the Irish clergy were constrained and forced
by passing events to enter the Land League. Many of its members had
little difficulty in bringing themselves to join it. Amongst us the
clergy are chiefly recruited from the masses; but whilst on one hand
the Government pays their stipends, on the other they derive their
chief support from the upper classes. Being obliged to conciliate
so many interests or frequently opposing sentiments, they are quite
inclined to be extremely moderate. But in Ireland the position is
very different. The clergy are also nearly entirely recruited from
amongst the peasants and small farmers; but, since the upper classes
are Protestant there is no connection between them; nor even between
the priests and the Government, for the latter can do little either
for or against them. The priests have, therefore, all the instincts
of the people from whom they spring, and with whose destiny they
feel their own fate closely bound up. In the conditions of existence
under which they live no preponderating element can exist. Under the
French system there is a very moderate, but at the same time admirably
disciplined, clergy, because everything comes from those above them.
But these advantages are often gained at the expense of their influence
over the people, from whom they are too much separated. Under the
Irish system the clergy have, on the contrary, enormous influence,
and by which their incomes are affected, and they quickly realise
whether there is any danger of this influence being compromised. Only
it frequently happens, when the passions are greatly excited, that
instead of teaching the people the priests are obliged to follow them,
and discipline not having the material authority that it has with us,
these eager temperaments are only restrained by the hands of canonical
obedience, though at the same time these are usually sufficiently
powerful.
We must not, then, be surprised if the parochial clergy, living in
the midst of a population that was unquestionably suffering great
hardships, and having no connection with the classes whom they consider
responsible for these sufferings, have thrown themselves into the
struggle with frequently exaggerated ardour, or what at all events
seems so to the French, who are accustomed to much more reserved
manners in our priests. Some of them allow their enthusiasm to attain
extraordinary dimensions. I was dining, quite recently, with one of
my relations; eight or ten persons were present, and one of them, an
Irish parish priest, was telling us something about the present state
of his country. Very intelligent and full of racy humour, he related
a number of anecdotes illustrative of the prevalent state of feeling,
each droller than the last, and above all full of local colour. He
particularly impressed upon us the sympathy of the clergy for the Land
League.
“The other day,” said he, “one of my colleagues was playing billiards
with his vicar, when a message was brought to him that a man wanted to
confess to him in the vestry. He immediately went, took his place in
the confessional, and the man commenced the enumeration of his sins.
“‘My father,’ said he, ‘I confess that three months ago I shot a man
and killed him.’
“‘Oh, oh!’ thought the priest, ‘this is a serious matter.’
“He still held the billiard chalk in his hand, and with it made a mark
on his left sleeve.
“‘Go on, my son,’ he said aloud.
“‘That is not all,’ stammered the man. ‘Two days later I shot Paddy
Ryan.... But I only wounded him.’
“The priest made a second mark on his sleeve, and repeated with a sigh:
“‘Go on, my son.’
“‘Since that I have shot at Corney O’Sullivan, and then at Tim
O’Flaherty, and then again at Timothy O’Hagan.’
“The priest sprung up in his arm-chair.
“‘Good heavens, my son! but what had all these men done to you that you
wished to hurry them into eternity? Who were they?’
“‘Oh, my father! they were all bailiffs or tax-collectors.’
“‘Idiot!’ growled the priest, furiously rubbing his sleeve. ‘Why didn’t
you say so before, instead of letting me spoil my best cassock?’”
This story was much relished by the lay guests at dinner. It was less
appreciated by the ecclesiastics present. It is, however, unnecessary
to add that it was related as a good joke; but at the same time, we
quite understood that the joke was intended to give the key to the
present state of feeling amongst many of the Irish priests, and the
narrator added that he was himself the President of the League in his
district.
When the League was once founded, it was forced to assert its power. It
was rendered particularly popular amongst the tenants, because it had
promised them, if not the abolition, at least the reduction of a great
portion of their rents. Now, the surest method of attaining this result
would be the suppression of competition, so that the landowners, once
convinced that if they withdrew the farms from their present tenants
they would have them left on their hands, should be forced to accept
all the terms their tenants liked to impose upon them. In a speech
spoken at Ennis on the 19th September, 1880, Mr. Parnell undertook to
point out by what means these results could be obtained. Here are his
words, which have since been frequently quoted by those who wish to
make him responsible for the storm they let loose.
“Now, you will ask me, what must be done to a tenant who takes a farm
from which another man has been sent away?”
_Several voices in the crowd_--“SHOOT HIM.”
_Mr. Parnell_--“I think that some of you answer, ‘Shoot him!’ Now, I
will point out to you another method, which is much more certain, and
which has the advantage of being more Christian and more charitable,
for it gives the sinner time to repent. When a man has taken a farm
from which another has been unjustly driven out, you must, by your
conduct, wherever you meet him, by the isolation in which you will
force him to live, by treating him as formerly lepers were treated--you
must, I repeat, by all these measures, show him the hatred and contempt
you feel for his crime.”
Historians relate that one day Harlequin gave his three sons two drums,
one large and one small one, and a pair of cymbals, telling them to
amuse themselves with their new playthings, but to be careful not to
make a noise. They add that, in spite of his instructions, his quiet
was rather disturbed.
Mr. Parnell has unfortunately seen his counsel produce the same result
as those given by Harlequin. He exhorted the crowd by advising them
not to employ any but moral, charitable, and Christian measures.
The crowd obeyed his words, but his instructions were soon left far
behind. At that time, an ex-officer, Captain Boycott, after leaving the
service had settled in Ireland, near Lough Mask. He made agriculture
his business, and also managed estates. He had some difficulty with a
tenant, who would not pay his rent, and he wished to evict him. The
local committee of the Land League in his village, intimated to him
that if he did, it was at his own risk and peril. Naturally he ignored
this hint, and war was declared.
The whole of Ireland watched this affair, with the greatest attention,
for they felt that the future of the Land League depended upon the way
in which it was settled. But every precaution was carefully taken,
every one of Captain Boycott’s servants left him the same day; he went
to the tradesmen in the small neighbouring town who usually supplied
the house, they all refused to serve him. He could not buy either bread
or meat at any price, and for some days he lived on potatoes that he
dug himself, whilst Mrs. Boycott milked the cows.
The Land League had won the first battle. Public excitement was
intense. Threats having been uttered the Government sent a garrison to
the Captain, and he no longer ventured out without the protection of
four men armed to the teeth. Reporters from every Irish and English
newspaper followed him perpetually. Every morning the public learnt
that on the preceding evening the Captain, guarded by six constables
and accompanied by twelve reporters, had dug two dozen potatoes for
his breakfast. Then they were much interested in a field of beetroot
which ought to be taken up. In Ulster an association was formed, which
sent twenty-five Protestant labourers to his aid; the Government sent a
company of infantry to guard them, not only during their sojourn on the
estate, but also on their journey there and back.
The beetroots were taken in, but the situation became more strained
every day. One fine morning it was found that all the cows’ tails had
been cut off during the night. The following week two or three bullets
whistled round the ears of the Captain and his escort Then, when they
wished to sell the famous tailless cows, no butcher in the country
would buy them. It was resolved to send them to the English market. But
the railway and steamboat companies were informed that they too would
be laid under an interdict, if they carried them, so they refused to
take them. However, the cows went, but a special boat, chartered by the
Belfast Association, was sent to fetch them. But it is really neither
pleasant nor lucrative to cultivate a farm under these circumstances.
The struggle assumed Homeric proportions. It had lasted for a month or
two when the landlords committed a great error. If they had combined
and subscribed eight or ten thousand pounds to enable the Captain to
carry on the war, they might have gained the upper hand, and the League
would never have recovered from the check; but they did not do it.
The Captain, who had shown marvellous courage, and who only wished to
continue his resistance, was abandoned to his own resources and was
forced to yield. At the same stroke the Land League triumphed, and the
English language was enriched by a new word. The verb ‘to boycott,’
which expressed the action of interdicting any one, as Captain Boycott
had been interdicted, is now quite admissible. It is commonly used, not
only in conversation but also in judicial and parliamentary language.
For the Land League it was a party triumph. Questionable before this
event, it had now asserted its power so effectually that friends
and enemies were both forced to bend before it. From that day it is
incontestable that the Land League has been the _de facto_ government
in Ireland; at any rate it is the only one whose orders have never been
disputed.
Like all truly great things, it has a very simple organisation. Every
parish has a committee elected by the unanimous suffrage of all its
adherents; that is to say, of everybody in it, for, in nine-tenths of
Ireland, there is not one man, above all in the country districts, who
dares to refuse joining the Land League, or who neglects to pay his
subscription regularly, although this is never less than one shilling
per month. The parochial committee elects a president, who is often the
parish priest, or even one of the vicars, if the priest is considered
too lukewarm. A county committee is in constant communication, on one
side with the presidents of the parish, and on the other with the
central committee, which meets twice a week at the central office of
the League at Dublin. No one exactly knows how much money is at the
disposal of this committee; but it must amount to a considerable sum.
On one hand the subscriptions are paid very regularly; on the other,
there is not an American city that has not its Irish committee or who
does not send subsidies. I do not know how much the subscriptions
amount to, but some one, whose information is thoroughly reliable, told
me that they had never received less than 4,000 dollars per week.
But all these funds are used. The League is generous, and it pays well
for the services it receives. One day, three years ago, the Bishop of
Cashel proposed to offer a substantial testimonial to Mr. Parnell as a
token of their public appreciation of his work. A special subscription
was opened, which in a few days brought in 40,000_l._
The League first pays a number of agents, who constantly scour the
country to keep up the agitation; it subsidises a mass of newspapers,
and distributes a quantity of pamphlets. In the country, it has
recourse, above all, as a means of propaganda, to allegorical coloured
pictures. The _United Ireland_ has just published one which is already
seen everywhere, and which depicts Mr. Gladstone armed with an enormous
sabre, on which “Home Rule” is engraved, with which he is evidently
about to reduce to mincemeat a three-headed hydra, of which each
head has a strong likeness to either Mr. Chamberlain, Lord Randolph
Churchill, or Lord Salisbury.
We must, however, mention that these funds are never used for election
expenses. The latter are covered by the production of a special
subscription. The _Parliamentary Fund_, which has already been able, in
the last few days, to send 1,000 dollars (200_l._) to every candidate
who includes Home Rule in his programme. I now approach a burning
question. For more than six years the League has governed Ireland.
Since Captain Boycott, many others have been boycotted, and these
interdictions, decreed by the Land League, have led to innumerable
agrarian crimes--that is to say, that a considerable number of men and
women have been assassinated for having infringed the orders of the
League. Sometimes it has been proved that between the murderer and his
victim some private hatred existed; but more often the assassin did not
even know him; the victim was pointed out, and he was paid to commit
the crime. Where did the money come from, and what part has the Land
League played in these sad cases?
To answer these questions, we must first observe that agrarian crimes
have always been common in Ireland. It is a tradition amongst the
peasants that when tenants have to complain of the landlord, or of one
of his agents, they should subscribe a sum to offer to one of their
number, who undertakes to deal the blow, and is sure of his escape to
America. These peasant customs were honoured for a long time before
the Land League existed. It would therefore be unjust to say that it
created them.
It is, however, very difficult not to accuse it of a large share of
responsibility for many of the crimes committed. Mr. Parnell, its
President, first invented and recommended boycotting. Now, boycotting
cannot exist unless it is effective, and it cannot be effective unless
all those who are charged with carrying it out are placed under strict
discipline. A rich man who is boycotted would evidently try to induce
the butcher or the baker to furnish him with provisions. He would, if
possible, offer them large sums to tempt them to yield. In order that
this butcher or baker should resist their offers, they must know that
their disobedience will expose them to serious danger.
Boycotting, therefore, entails absolute discipline, and since there
can be no discipline without authority, it ends in intimidation. Now,
from intimidation to murder there is only one step. The facts prove it.
Mr. Parnell often repeats that the only day that he despaired of the
future, and was on the point of renouncing the struggle, was when he
received the news of the murders at Phœnix Park. This is very possible;
but still, Mr. Parnell cannot deny that his system could not work two
days if murders had not been committed. He blames the assassins, but
profits by their deeds.
We must, however, acknowledge that the question can be looked at from
another side. It is certain that the Irish people are in a state
of war or of rebellion, whichever you like, against England. This
is incontestable. The war is carried on by extraordinary means, but
still it is war. Mr. Parnell is therefore the chief of a belligerent
army. He has regular troops: namely, the official agents of the Land
League; and then he has irregular troops, composed of men who all aim
at the same thing, but who will not submit to any discipline, and who
advance towards their end by whichever road they fancy will lead them
the most directly. In Italy, the Turcos committed some atrocities;
they willingly collected the ears of the Croates left dead or merely
wounded on the field of battle. These atrocities served to found the
legend which rendered them so formidable, and this legend in some
degree assisted to win the battle of Magenta. Marshal MacMahon was
absolutely incapable of cutting off an enemy’s ears whether he were
dead or wounded. He never gave any Turco the order to commit these
abominations; he would certainly have punished any man who did it in
his presence; but who can tell the influence these ears had upon the
battle of Magenta where the general found a field-marshal’s baton and a
coronet?
But it is certain that side by side with the Land League there
are several secret societies existing, which have usually their
head-quarters in America. They are or were under the direction of
the notorious O’Donovan Rossa, and it is almost proved that these
societies instigate many of the crimes which are committed. But, even
whilst admitting, what I believe to be true, that the Land League never
directly recommends attempts at manslaughter or attacks on the person,
it can be reproached because it has hitherto expressed so very little
censure of such crimes after they have occurred. With the enormous and
varied resources at its disposal, it would be very easy for the League
to bring the guilty to justice, and by so doing it would completely
silence its accusers; but this it has never yet attempted.
The office of the Land League is at 43, Upper O’Connell Street. Here I
must again make an observation: this street, one of the most important
in Dublin, is in reality Sackville Street. One day, on its self-created
authority, I do not know for what reason, unless it was simply to
assert its omnipotence, the League decided that it should bear the
name of the great Irish agitator. Since that event there is not a car
driver who does not pretend that he does not understand where you
mean when you ask for Sackville Street. I have been told this quite
seriously, but I have not been able to verify it as a fact; so that I
only mention it as a statement made to me. When I enter the office I
seem to be in a ministerial department. I was shown into a room where
five or six people were writing; one of them took my card, and asking
me to wait for his return, carried it to Mr. Harrington, the general
secretary. Busy men passed to and fro, with papers they had brought
for signature; an elderly white-haired man danced attendance with me.
We began to talk. He was an Australian doctor, who had brought funds
from a committee at Melbourne; I was at once filled with respect for
an establishment, where they even kept a man waiting who brought them
money.
At last I was informed that Mr. Harrington could see me. I found him
in a large lofty hall ornamented with allegorical pictures; three or
four secretaries were seated round a table covered with a green cloth,
opening letters and coming forward every moment to ask for instructions
or to bring piles of telegrams, which arrive from all quarters. I
own that all this made me feel thunderstruck. Here is an Association
that openly conspires against the established Government, and that
everywhere declaims against its odious tyranny. And yet the offices
occupy a whole house within two steps of the Viceroy’s palace; it has
a badge over the door so that no one could mistake it, and a policeman
walks up and down the pavement to keep the carriages in their ranks.
What a difference between this imposing establishment and the dark
cave where all classical conspiracies are formed! And yet some people
deny that we are progressing! Unfortunately it appears to me that this
fact alone suffices for the undeniable condemnation of the English
Government. It asserts that these people are rebels and assassins.
How then can it allow itself to be defied by them in this way? The
first duty of every government is to carry out the law and to protect
peaceful citizens. When it does neither of these things it must be
nearly at its end, and it is even right to wish that its end may come
as soon as possible, in order to make room for another administration
which will better realise its duties.
Mr. Harrington was born at Bantry, in the south of Ireland; four years
ago he superintended a local publication named the _Kerry Sentinel_,
and which naturally waged perpetual war against the English Government.
From time to time the Administration has spasms of severity which
are disastrous, because just as this severity is likely to become
efficacious it is abandoned for a return to gentler measures.
One day it thought it desirable to prosecute Mr. Harrington, who had
not said one word more nor less than two or three thousand others had
said. He was sentenced to two months imprisonment and confined in
Mullingar gaol. Whilst working out his punishment he had an altercation
with the governor and was condemned to six days in the cells. This
caused some excitement. At the same time the member for Mullingar was
obliged to resign his seat, though I do not know for what reason, and
Mr. Harrington was thereupon elected in his place.
I have had something to do with French conspirators, though as little
as possible, but still I have had some intercourse with them. They are
nearly all, physically as well as morally, rough and unwashed, clinging
to their principles as though they were stilts; in fact, insufferable.
There are a few amiable sceptics who shave and wash themselves
sometimes, but they do it with such visible affectation, that after all
when one meets them one begins to regret they are not like the others.
The conspirators in this country appear to me a hundred degrees above
ours. They never shave, but that I believe is a professional necessity.
I have read in many classic works that the conspirators of former
ages had the habit of forging swords out of their chains. Since in
the present century chains are no longer used, they apparently forge
them out of the steel of their razors. You therefore never see a stage
conspirator without a formidable beard. All the Land Leaguers that I
have yet seen wear them; but their beards are well kept, and their
owners are as amiable and gracious as possible.
Mr. Harrington is far from being an exception to this rule. When I
told him that I expected to visit first the south of Ireland, his
own county, he hastened in the kindest way to place himself at my
service, and offered to give me all the letters of introduction that
I could possibly require; he particularly promised me one for the
local president of the Land League, at Castle-Connell, a letter, which
could, if necessary, be used as an introduction to all the others. He
at once dictated what was requisite to one of the secretaries, who a
few minutes later brought the letter for his signature. It was written
on magnificent crested paper with quite an official appearance. At our
Admiralty, the chief of the staff always conducted his business in a
similar style. I certainly am in a minister’s office.
From time to time some political notoriety came in to inquire what
was going on, and I was fortunate enough to be introduced to two of
them--men of whom I had often heard.
The first was a small deformed man with sparkling eyes. This was Mr.
Biggar, formerly a bacon factor in Belfast, who, having launched
into politics, has become the _fidus Achates_ of Mr. Parnell and
his friends, and one of the creators of the well-known “sore” (I
cannot find any more suitable expression) that is usually called the
Obstruction campaign.
In 1881, the Government, seized with one of those paroxysms of firmness
to which I have already referred, and wishing to re-establish a little
order in Ireland, demanded from Parliament, not the proclamation of
a state of siege, but simply powers which would enable them to act
rather more rapidly than the ordinary form of procedure would allow
of. This is what is meant by the _Coercion Bill_. Mr. Parnell and his
friends, whom it was really intended to affect, were naturally anxious
that this bill should not pass; but, being only a very small minority,
they had no regular means of checking or preventing its progress. They
therefore had recourse to tactics, which they had already used on
different occasions, but in a less complete way. In the absence of any
written rules, the English Parliament only obeys traditional customs.
One of these customs is, that when a member is speaking he can continue
as long as he likes, and an adjournment cannot be moved before all
the members have spoken who have in writing given notices of their
intention to move amendments.
At this time there were eighteen Nationalist members in the House.
It was arranged that each of them should propose an amendment on
every clause, and that each of them should not only support his own
amendment, but also the motions of the other seventeen, each member
speaking as long as his strength would allow. They had already tried
this little game in 1877, and they had succeeded in making one sitting
last twenty-four hours consecutively.
But they were determined to do better next time, and they kept their
word. They commenced by protesting against the mere idea, that the
state of Ireland justified the adoption of special measures; they
asserted that far from getting worse, the situation was visibly
improving; every one must know that in December, 1880, there were
867 agrarian crimes; but in January, 1881, there were not more than
448. And what crimes! In the first fortnight of the year, there was
not a single murder. It was true that four houses had been attacked;
two men had been shot at, but they were not hurt; only one person
had been rather seriously beaten, but it was not even suggested that
his life was in danger! It must be remembered that all this was said
quite seriously. I have copied these details from a book that Mr.
Gray recommended to me for its veracity, and which was written by Mr.
O’Connor, one of his parliamentary colleagues, the title of the book
is _The Parnell Movement_. The discussion thus commenced was continued
in the same tone; an Irish member rose and proposed an amendment,
no matter what it was, then he commenced to speak on no matter what
subject. One of them recited some verses, another commenced to read
an old collection of laws. In England Parliament sits in the evening;
a sitting commenced on Monday evening was prolonged through the whole
of Tuesday and far into Wednesday night. The two parties had organised
relays; on each side of the House only twelve members were left lying
on the benches, and the sole interruptions they offered to the orator,
was the sounds of their snoring; one old member being rather delicate,
brought a blanket for the second night.
Irish eloquence still flowed on. At a quarter to five on Wednesday
morning, Mr. Sexton began to speak, and continued his speech until
twenty minutes to eight o’clock. Mr. Leamy replaced Mr. Sexton; then
followed Mr. Biggar, who had been home to bed and had just come back.
He commenced his speech by saying, with a pleasant smile: “Perhaps I’m
trespassing on the patience of the House.”
Some one, who had just awakened, replied as he stretched himself:
“No, no!”
And, encouraged by these friendly words, Mr. Biggar continued.
But at nine o’clock A.M. the Speaker entered. During the night a
meeting of principal members of the Tory Opposition had been convened
by the Government. They all agreed that it was high time to end the
scandal, and having arranged the course to be pursued, the members were
hastily summoned by the Whips, and re-entered in crowds.
Mr. Biggar still went on; but the Speaker, without apparently noticing
that he was speaking, suggested that the House should adjourn.
Mr. Biggar uttered cries of “Shame,” “Order,” &c., but the Nationalists
were not then present in force. Mr. Parnell himself was absent. The
adjournment was moved amidst the hurrahs of the whole House, and Mr.
Biggar was forced to content himself with calling upon the people to
witness the abominable tyranny of which he was the victim.
The eighteen endeavoured to re-commence that evening; but at the first
words pronounced by one of them, the House rose in a body and voted for
their expulsion.
All this is certainly very droll; but what can be gained by these
childish tricks? The Irish demand the establishment of a National
Parliament at Dublin. What will they do if the Protestant members
from Ulster use towards the majority the same tactics they--the
minority--have so constantly employed in London? Many of them dream
of the establishment of a Republic. They need only cross over to
France to see how Republican assemblies treat the representatives of a
minority. Under the first Republic they guillotined them purely and
simply. In our days, they have invented special bye-laws for their
benefit. Perhaps in a few months Mr. Biggar will preside over an Irish
House of Commons. It will be curious to see how he will deal with
obstructionists.
The other politician to whom I had the honour of being introduced
during a visit to the offices of the Land League is Mr. Sullivan, the
Lord Mayor of Dublin. Mr. Sullivan, a tall, thin, elderly man, with a
proud intelligent face, is an author. It is said that he has published
a volume of poetry, which was a great success. Unfortunately, I have
not read it.
How different public customs are in this country from our own! A
morning paper related that yesterday the Lord Mayor, accompanied by
the Town Clerk and a deputation of eight members of the Corporation,
went to open some public baths that the Town Council have just built
in Tara Street. The inauguration was thus completed:--His Lordship
having considered it was part of his duty, took a header into the
bath; Mr. Beveridge, the Town Clerk, did the same; then these two
gentlemen challenged each other, and the enthusiastic crowd watched
a most interesting swimming race. Was the Town Clerk only a base
flatterer? I cannot say. But, at all events, the Lord Mayor won by a
length. The _Freeman’s_, which complacently reported this exploit, has
unfortunately omitted some of the details we should like to have known.
Did the Lord Mayor take off his curled wig? Did he wear drawers of
the national colour? And was there a white harp to relieve the green
foundation? Why did not the mace-bearers follow their chiefs? This
would all be interesting information, which he should have given; yet
the writer of the article has neglected to mention these details.
I had a long conversation with one of these diving magistrates.
Unluckily I could not congratulate him upon his aquatic success, for I
did not hear of it until after our interview. From him, too, I asked
for an explanation about the real grievances of Ireland against the
present government by England; I say _present_, because I quite admit
the validity of old complaints. I am absolutely convinced that in the
last and even in the commencement of this century, England treated
Ireland abominably. The stories of confiscation do not touch me at all;
they happened from four to eight hundred years ago. If it is still
maintained that a title of four hundred years is not sufficient to
constitute a right of ownership, it would become necessary to search
for the titles of the people who were then dispossessed, and this might
take us some time. Had I lived in the time of the French Republic, or
even of the Empire, it would have been my pleasure and my duty to send
a bullet through the head of the man who had bought my family property
from the nation; but I can now look at their descendants without any
rancour, because everything ends in this world.
But to return to Ireland. I ask every one what are the actual
grievances, and in what way can _Home Rule_ ameliorate the situation?
Here are the exact words in which the Lord Mayor answered this question:
“For a long time Mr. Gladstone, the grand old man, has felt what we
needed in Ireland. And this is why the Tories (who hate us) are so
indignant with him, that if to-morrow a tiger were to escape from a
menagerie and to devour him; there is not one Tory who would not
exclaim ‘Thank God!’
“At last he has found courage to say aloud that which he has always
really thought--we require _Home Rule_; and now, thank God, we shall
get it!
“You say: But why should it be to England’s interest to see Ireland
unprosperous? That is true. But would you like to be governed by
Prussians? God never intended that one nation should submit to another!
This is so true that a conquering nation, merely from the fact that it
has conquered, is powerless to do good!
“But we certainly do not anticipate that Ireland will attain prosperity
in one day, solely because it is governed by Irishmen. England has
killed all our industries; we require time before they can be revived.
We may perhaps make some mistakes. But whilst waiting for prosperity we
shall bear our sufferings and our poverty more cheerfully, knowing that
the amelioration of our fate only depends upon our own exertions.
“And besides this, the mere fact of the proclamation of Home Rule would
have considerable influence over our material prosperity. You Frenchmen
have no idea of the cavilling fiscal spirit which animates the English
administration. All our towns are in a state of tutelage; our smallest
expenses must be authorised; a special law is required before a loan
can be raised, and the charges for the formalities that must be gone
through before these laws can be obtained, are so high, that the cost
is at once augmented to a disastrous extent.
“I can quote a recent instance of this. A short time ago we wished to
lay water on to the town. The estimate was for 21,000_l._ Before we
could obtain the necessary Act we had to spend 9,000_l._ in London.
“Even whilst admitting that quite as much might have had to be paid
in any other country, at least the money would have remained in the
country, whilst now, this 9,000_l._ only enriched the London barristers
and lawyers, and was quite lost to Ireland.”
I trust that Mr. Sullivan will forgive me for saying that his first
sentences reminded me of Victor Hugo’s style. The others contain an
objection that may be well grounded up to a certain point.
Yet I am struck with two things. In the first place, I never heard
the English administration blamed for excessive centralisation before
to-day. I always thought that, on the contrary, its chief failures were
due to excessive decentralisation. But in return I quite believe it to
be, if not venal, at all events very expensive. In England everything
is made an excuse for a fee, a word which means emolument, but which
also slightly conveys the sense of “_tip_.” Amongst us, officials are
absolutely prohibited from accepting anything whatever from the public.
In England it is quite understood that, besides their salaries--which
are very handsome--it is even legal that officials should claim
remuneration for services, which, according to our notions, should be
quite gratuitous.
This remark even applies to officers! Some years ago I saw the captain
of an English merchant vessel come on board a French man-of-war, and
ask permission to compare their chronometers with ours. The officer in
charge of the watch hastened to render him this small service, and was
quite astonished when, after the examination was over, the Englishman
gravely handed him a sovereign, whilst the Englishman appeared still
more surprised when the Frenchman refused the money rather hastily.
It seems that English officers consider gratuities are perfectly
legitimate.
Another instance happened at Shanghai. The Taïping army menaced the
city. The bankers fearing a night attack asked the French and English
captains to take charge of their cash on board in order that it might
be safe; a favour that was at once granted. Only, when after some days
all danger was past and the bankers sent for their money, those who had
confided it to the English men-of-war were quite surprised to receive
with it a rather heavy bill.
There is neither robbery nor even indelicacy in all this, for it is
quite openly done. Still a French officer who acted in this way would
be boycotted by his comrades and brought before a court-martial by his
minister. I only quote these incidents to show how much the English
views upon many points differ from our own, and to explain how with
such a well-established system of fees the smallest step may become
onerous.
However, to return to the Lord Mayor’s business; it seems to me
preposterous that 9,000_l._ should have to be expended before
permission to spend another 21,000_l._ can be obtained. With us, this
permission would be only too easily granted gratuitously, particularly
if it referred to the formation of an Academic group. It is certain,
that if the Irish must give 9,000_l._ to barristers, it would be
better, for the welfare of their country, that this substantial
windfall should fill Irish pockets instead of benefiting English
counsel as it now does; and the Irish expect to attain this result
by having a Parliament of their own at Dublin. But why should it be
necessary to spend 9,000_l._? It seems to me, that by changing the
method of procedure, by making it resemble ours, for instance, economy
could be easily secured. The Lord Mayor’s argument proves that there
are reforms to be made, and this no one denies; but they do not prove
that in order to make these reforms it is indispensable to go as far as
separation.
“Ce n’était pas la peine,
Non, pas la peine assurément,
De changer de gouvernement,”
says worthy Madame Angot, who was certainly no fool.
Whilst making these reflections _in petto_, I took leave of his
lordship, who is more perfect than good King Henry himself, for,
according to the old song, he had only three accomplishments, whilst
the _Freeman’s Journal_ unhesitatingly attributes four to Mr. Sullivan,
since in the article I alluded to just now his position as a “diver”
is established, and he is also called the “poet,” “patriot,” and
“statesman” several times. He looks a thoroughly honest man, and yet
the information that he gave has not explained Home Rule to me.
The remainder of my day was spent in several other calls, which I
will mention in their proper place. They gave me an opportunity of
exploring the city, which seems immense. In reality it has 249,000
inhabitants. The streets are superb and relatively clean; there are
several fine monuments, and one or two charming parks; but the city
is spoilt by the miserable expression worn by every one I meet. When
I ended my conversations with the chiefs of the Land League, I felt
almost converted to English doctrines; but the sight of these miserable
faces drew me back to the Land League. It is really impossible to
leave things as they are. When, during the day, I saw people who had
evidently neither breakfasted that morning nor dined the day before,
and who had absolutely no reason for supposing that they would be
more fortunate to-morrow, it seemed incredible, and I could not help
remembering the contemptuous air which Englishmen assume when they
allude to what passes in view on the Continent.
Mr. Gladstone’s first political action was a letter in which he
denounced King Ferdinand of Naples to all Europe. This document said
that he deserved to lose his crown because he did not know how to
govern his people. I do not see that Mr. Gladstone has succeeded much
better. It is not enough to blame others; one must do better oneself.
I have seen all the worst parts of Naples; I have seen the _ghetto_
at Rome; both are, or rather were, charming localities if we compare
them to a part of Dublin that I passed through to-day, called the
“Liberties.” The only liberty that seems left to the inhabitants is the
liberty of remaining unwashed and of dying by starvation. This district
was peopled by a colony of French Huguenots, who introduced the poplin
industry, which has now almost disappeared, but which at one time
employed four thousand workmen. If these unfortunate people whom I saw
this morning are really the descendants of our fellow-countrymen, I can
only advise them to try a second emigration. I quite understand that
the results of the first may not encourage them to attempt a second,
but they have nothing to lose by a change now.
Here we see the great misfortune of this country. No industry that has
been established here has been able to last: there is neither coal nor
iron. How can they compete with England under these circumstances?
When I say that all industries have collapsed I am mistaken. One of
them is a great success. It belongs to Mr. Guinness, a brewer, whose
establishment now occupies nearly one district in the west of the
city, on the banks of the river, with which it communicates by means
of a tunnel made under the quay, which serves for the delivery of the
barrels of beer on to the barges anchored in the muddy bed of the
Liffey.
What an illusion the Liffey is! From the treacherous words of the Irish
poets I had expected to find a superb river. I only saw a filthy ditch.
Mr. Guinness’s industry only prospers because everything that these
unfortunate people earn is spent in drink. The Catholic priests, in
spite of all their influence, cannot eradicate the vice of drunkenness,
which is so deeply rooted in all northern populations. To-day,
whilst passing through a fairly important street, I noticed a house
with _Temperance Hall_ painted in large letters above the door. In
the window were hanging publications and pictures antagonistic to
insobriety. But on the steps lay an old woman who had fallen there
quite tipsy. Her grey hair fell over her stupefied face. One could see
her skeleton legs through the holes in her dress. A younger woman,
probably her daughter, a little more sober, but still scarcely able
to stand, tried to persuade her to continue on her way. The old woman
would not listen, but rolled helplessly on the pavement. At last the
woman staggered off. What an eloquent commentary upon the sermons
placed in the shop-window!
Two election meetings are announced for to-day. Mr. Gray is to speak at
the first, which will be held in the city: but as I had told him that I
should be delighted to see an election where a little noise was made,
he advised me not to attend his, but to go instead to the one that
would be held in the Town Hall at Rathmines, a large borough in the
outskirts of Dublin, where they expect rather a tumult. Yesterday there
was a very stormy meeting at the University, which returns two members.
The Nationalist candidate, who, it is admitted, has not the shadow of
a chance, was very badly treated by the students. They threw at him a
dead cat, seventeen rotten eggs, one of which broke in the face of a
courageous lady who had accompanied him on to the platform, and such
a number of cabbage stalks that the most conscientious reporters were
forced to give up the attempt to count them. At last he was forced to
beat a retreat.
Now, it appears that the students, proud of their success yesterday,
intend trying to disperse the meeting at Rathmines, or, at least, to
make a disturbance there. Everything, therefore, points to an evening
full of incident. It will be rendered doubly interesting because it is
organised by the “Protestant Home Rule Association,” that is to say,
by the few Protestants in the country who have joined Mr. Parnell--by
the way, he is a Protestant himself--and who have now entered on the
campaign in favour of Home Rule. They declare that, far from being
alarmed, as the English often assert that they are, at the idea of
being abandoned to the Catholics without some protection, some of the
Irish Protestants are so convinced of the sentiments of justice and
benevolence, or at least of tolerance, which animate the majority of
their fellow countrymen, that they are among the most eager to demand
separation.
A jaunting-car conveyed me in less than half an hour to the door of a
very simple building, which is the Town Hall of Rathmines. If England’s
tutelage, complained of by the Lord Mayor, has only the effect of
recalling to the minds of the municipal architects the simplicity of
style they so frequently lose sight of at home, this tutelage can
scarcely be considered absolutely injurious. The street is already
blocked by the crowd. Apparently the police are under the impression
that there will be some work for them, for a hundred policemen are
grouped in one corner, ready to interfere when necessary, but content
to look on for the present. Some strong young men wearing a green
badge, act as stewards and guard the doors. Every one desiring to
enter must show a personal invitation. These cards have been sent out
during the day. I have only an envelope signed by Mr. Gray. At first,
therefore, I encountered some difficulties, because the signature was
almost illegible; but as soon as it was recognised, one of the stewards
gave me a formidable slap on the shoulder, exclaiming: “Bedad, sorr,
with that name there isn’t any door in Ireland that wouldn’t be open to
you!”
I explained to him that for the moment my sole ambition was to find a
place where I could see well, and above all hear well. My friend at
once told me to follow him; pushing through the crowd like a boar,
hustling every one that stood in his way, and in five minutes I find
myself on the platform, two steps from the president, and quite close
to a window; a very advantageous position, because, first of all, I
could get a little air, and secondly, if the tumult became too serious,
a small jump of seven or eight feet would enable me to gain a small
side lane; and this I determined to do, if necessary, without the
least hesitation, for it would be too stupid to allow myself to be
knocked down by a Nationalist, wounded by a student, or simply led off
to the station by a policeman, all for the honour of “Ould Ireland,”
although my martyrdom could not help her in any way.
When I had once formed my plan of campaign, I began to look about me.
There was evidently electricity in the air. The hall could hold about
three or four hundred people; a hundred-and-fifty or two hundred were
crowded in a small gallery above the door, yet formidable pressure
still took place from time to time, and on each occasion a fresh stream
of people penetrated into the hall, and the new arrivals pushed forward
against those who had entered before them. It was intensely hot, and
already a good many present had taken off their coats. In order to
pass the time they yelled out a patriotic song, commencing with _God
Save Ireland_, which was accompanied from the street by an orchestra
composed of five or six fifes and as many drums.
A few minutes later, a grey-haired gentleman rose quite near to me and
advanced to the front of the platform, where he was joined by a short,
deformed man with long hair. I don’t know where he came from. Instantly
there was a great silence, and the former bowed to the assembly.
“Gentlemen,” said he, “seconded by my friend, Mr. Shackleton,”--Mr.
Shackleton--that was the little hunchback--bowed, in his turn, so
low that his hump appeared higher than his head. The applause was
enthusiastic. Evidently this is an important personage. He is the
second hunchback I have seen in the Land League. Mr. Biggar, like
Æsop, had only one hump; this man has two, like Punch. The tall speaker
is called Mr. Alfred Webb. He continued:
“Seconded by my friend Abraham Shackleton, and in the name of the
_Protestant Home Rule Association_ I wish to ask your support for our
candidate, Sir Thomas Esmonde, Baronet, who already represents the
electoral division of South Dublin.”
This declaration was received with a tremendous noise. Every one stood
up, hats flew into the air, or were waved at the end of enormous
blackthorn sticks that are here called shillalahs, mouths opened like
ovens, and gave vent to hurrahs that made the hall shake. The voters
in the gallery thumped with all their force on the wooden balustrade,
making it resound like a drum. My eyes were fixed on a short man,
standing in front of me; he shouted and gesticulated so violently that
I expected he would be seized with an epileptic fit. After a moment he
evidently broke something in his throat, for with a despairing gesture
he indicated that his voice would not come again, and, red as a tomato,
he sank upon a bench to recover his strength.
The same accident probably happened to several others, for comparative
silence ensued. Unfortunately, some one took advantage of it to cry:
“Boys! Three cheers for the Grand Old Man!”
The “Grand Old Man” is Mr. Gladstone. Some years ago they called him
“the old scoundrel.” Now he is called the “Grand Old Man” but the usual
pronunciation is not sufficiently emphatic. It must be pronounced very
slowly: g-r-r-r-r-and, with four or five r’s, ôld with three circumflex
accents on the ô, and two on mân. Any other pronunciation lacks
respect.
The quite novel idea of cheering “the Grand Old Man” made every one
recover his strength. One gentleman in the gallery gave the signal by
attempting to demolish the balustrade with his shillalah and the nine
hurrahs broke out like a peal of thunder. Their enthusiasm was so great
that when it ended one voice cried, “Once more,” and they recommenced.
But human strength has its limits, and I saw with pleasure that they
were nearly exhausted. The second volley of hurrahs is not so hearty as
the first. At last their throats could only utter inarticulate sounds;
in spite of the efforts betrayed by their distorted features aphony was
rapidly approaching.
The orators grouped near to me on the platform evidently awaited this
result. One of them rose and began to speak. He first alluded to the
meddling of the Court with the elections. He had scarcely launched into
his subject before a young man suddenly rose at the back of the hall.
“Long live the Queen! Down with the rebels!” he cried in a clear voice.
Two or three other voices responded. It was the students who had just
entered, but their arrangements were badly planned. Their adversaries
had taken every precaution, and very few students had succeeded in
slipping into the room.
The tempest was unchained, a forest of cudgels waved overhead. The
students made an heroic defence, but in less than a minute they were
overpowered, picked up and thrust out amidst growls resembling those of
wild beasts.
However, the affair was not yet over. In the streets their friends
attempted a diversion. The music which had recommenced ended in a
despairing scream. A heavy blow had broken one musician’s instrument
in his face and the others took to flight. Some curious fights took
place under my window; the combatants, so far as I could judge, seemed
to display very serious and profound knowledge of the principles of
the noble art of boxing, for in the twinkling of an eye I saw two
or three noses broken. “A very illigant foight! Is it not, sorr?”
said one of my neighbours, addressing me; he evidently considered it
would be a personal favour if I declared myself anti-nationalist so
that he might have the opportunity of commencing an equally “illigant
foight” with me. I took care not to give him this satisfaction; on
the contrary, I declared that I thought the fight most “illigant.” I
begin to understand Irish very well, and even to speak it a little;
it suffices to change most of the e’s into i’s and all the i’s into
oi’s--for instance one must never say Ireland but “Oirrlande.” With
these precautions progress is very rapid.
The students are decidedly not in force. In less than five minutes
the incident is over, every one returns to his place, and the orators
peacefully continue their speeches.
Most of them say very little; they are only the supernumeraries, the
important topics are reserved for a little later on. The appearance of
the hall is the interesting and instructive spectacle. The meeting is
evidently composed of men belonging to the lower middle class; they are
shopkeepers or clerks. There are a few torn jackets, but very few; in
such an assembly one ought to find comparative moderation, but on the
contrary, all these men seem really and unquestionably exasperated.
When, just now, the students shouted “Long live the Queen,” and when
since that an orator has pronounced her name, hisses and groans were
heard on all sides. I consider this is one of the most serious aspects
of the situation. Mr. Gladstone, once a constitutional minister, has
assumed a revolutionary attitude; he has stripped the throne of its
“divinity,” the name of the Queen is now treated with more contempt
than the names of her ministers. The speakers, to do them justice,
make no effort to excite this feeling; they constantly refer to _Home
Rule_, but when they allude to the idea of absolute separation, or
to a republic, they do so in terms which indicate that they will not
even honour the question by discussing it. Do orders, resulting from
political calculation, produce this state of things, or does it proceed
from real conviction? I cannot tell, I can only state the fact; but
I must also own that their contemptuous words were not echoed by the
crowd. At last the candidate rose. Sir Thomas Esmonde is quite a young
man, it appears that he is twenty-three, but he does not look more than
eighteen or twenty. It is said that his fortune is very much reduced,
and his family, which is far from adopting the same political views,
and which now refuses to meet him, explains that it is with the hope of
recovering his position that he has thrown himself into the arms of the
League with so much enthusiasm.
This is another sign of the times. Formerly in England political
opinions had no influence over social relations. It is said that a few
years ago when Mr. Labouchere, widely known as the editor of _Truth_,
was presented to the Prince of Wales, he, with an amiable smile said,
“No doubt your Royal Highness is aware that I am a red republican.”
This is quite possible in a country where the theories of social
distinction not only have never been practised, but even seem never
to have any chance of being applied. In an English drawing-room one
may come into pleasant intercourse with a gentleman who explains that
the landowners should be deprived of their property and that their
throats should be cut on the altar of the country; because in England
this has never happened, and until lately no one saw that there was any
possibility of it happening. In France for a long time these encounters
have been most disagreeable, and in Ireland I am led to believe that
the people begin to avoid them. I am told that Sir Thomas Esmonde is
“cut” by the society that he frequented before he entered political
life.
However, they have not yet reached the odious personalities which too
often dishonour our election struggles; and, I notice with pleasure,
that the candidate’s first phrases are devoted to saying in a few words
that he considers his opponent, Mr. Todhunter Pym, a perfectly honest
man, and that he delights in recalling the services rendered by his
father. I always acted in this way in our election meetings, and I
can recollect the stupefied expressions of our adversaries’ partisans
and the alarmed faces of our own when they heard me break through old
traditions in such a fashion.
Otherwise I am bound to say that the shadow of the illustrious Grattan
does not seem to inspire his descendant. If the truth must be owned,
the honourable candidate stutters a little and consults some papers,
which contain his improvisation, a little unreasonably. This is perhaps
excusable because his speech bristles with figures. Beyond this it
contained nothing very new.
Ireland has always been oppressed. All its industries have been
successively sacrificed to the Machiavellian calculations of the
English; first the silk manufactures, then the cotton have disappeared.
Only agriculture remains. Now agriculture itself is threatened; it is
dying of anæmia. Every year it pays nearly seventeen million pounds in
rent, of which six millions are spent abroad by landowners who never
visit Ireland. The country is therefore impoverished every year to the
extent of six million pounds. How can it resist such a drainage!
“It is said that emigration is the only cure for the misfortunes of
Ireland. On the contrary, emigration is killing her. In the first
place, it is not true that she is too populated. Italy has 239
inhabitants per square mile”--(Oh! Sir Thomas! how wrong it is to
juggle with figures in that fashion! You are quoting the statistics
of Milan and Lombardy. If you took those of the Pontine Marshes or of
Calabria, I think your argument would fall to pieces)--“Germany has
201; Holland, 181; France, 180; and Ireland only 169. And yet Ireland
is much more fertile than England, or than most other countries.” (Oh,
Sir Thomas!)
And then he added, “We suffer from a want of capital. Now at least
four million Irishmen have emigrated in the last thirty years. Each
man has spent at least 6_l._ on his voyage, this therefore amounts to
twenty-four million pounds sterling, which Ireland has lost through
emigration.” (Really, Sir Thomas, you are making fun of your audience!
For one Irishman who has gone straight to America, ten have gone to
England first, in search of fortune. Now whilst admitting that the
emigrants to America have each spent 6_l._ on their journey, and this
is far from true, for the ship companies take a whole family for
6_l._, a great many of them have simply spent four or five shillings in
reaching the English coast. I think that if you reduced your numbers by
seven-eighths you would perhaps be a little nearer the truth.) “Now if
Ireland had retained this twenty-four millions, her agriculture would
be flourishing and prosperous.”
The last few sentences particularly called forth immense enthusiasm.
“Gentlemen,” said he, “it is a solemn hour. This is the last time that
I shall solicit your votes to send me to London. In a few months you
will be called upon to vote again, and this time to return me as your
representative to our national Parliament in Dublin. My election is not
doubtful; but it is important that the large majority you gave me last
time should be increased now, to prove to England that there is but an
infinite minority of Irishmen who are not determined to acquire Home
Rule!”
Sir Thomas Esmonde was followed by a ferocious looking doctor, who
handled the English in general, but Lord Randolph Churchill in
particular, very roughly; he appeared to cherish a special animosity
against the latter. What had he done to him? I do not know. But if I
were Lord Randolph I would avoid that doctor if I were ill.
I hoped for some compensation when Mr. Abraham Shackleton began to
speak. I had heard that he was a Quaker. The only thing that I ever
understood about the religion of that sect was that its members never
wore buttons to their coats, always kept on their hats, and thee’d and
thou’d everybody. Now his waistcoat was buttoned, his head was only
covered with badly-combed hair, and I heard him say to the Lord Mayor,
who came in; “How do you do?” This immediately put me on my guard,
for I have a horror of renegades. I therefore only waited to hear him
declare that he would rather be oppressed by a Catholic like his friend
the Lord Mayor than protected by a Protestant like Mr. Chamberlain;
then I slipped out, only too happy to breathe the fresh air once more.
Mr. Gray had invited me to smoke a cigar with him at Pembroke House
after the meeting. It was already nearly eleven; however, I took
advantage of his kind invitation. I was conducted to a magnificent
library by a neat little maid who did not appear to have suffered
much from Ireland’s misfortunes, nor particularly from famine, for
she is quite plump. The master of the house had returned already; he
was relating to Mrs. Gray all the incidents of his meeting, which had
been very successful. From time to time a small bell recalled him to
a telephone placed in the middle of the table. The special wire for
the newspaper began to transmit the results of the English elections
and the news was immediately forwarded to him. They were not brilliant
for the Liberals. From all sides came tidings of the Conservative
successes. Mr. Gray’s features expressed great annoyance.
“Bah!” said he at last, “we are beaten! Well, the English will have it
hot! There must be new elections before six months are over!”
Apparently this means that there are a few good nights of obstruction
reserved for the members of the House of Commons. How strange Mr.
Gray’s position is! For in fact, however they may try to dissimulate
it, the Irish claims if they do not yet amount to communism as their
avowed object--and they may still retain a few illusions upon that
point--still it is quite certain that the methods employed by the Land
League would not be disowned by the most advanced Communists. No one
can proclaim the principle of permanent State intervention in a bargain
regulating the value of the land without being a Communist.
Now amongst us there is no lack of rich Communists; but they are
only men who are outcasts from their own class, and who have thrown
themselves into the party through hatred of the society which they
feel is closed against them; for they all lead irregular lives, or
else have a blot on their past. Mr. Gray’s case is quite different. He
belongs to an excellent family, his perfect respectability has never
been questioned, even by his worst enemies. He leads the most regular
life; has a large fortune, and yet places all these advantages, and
his undoubted abilities, at the service of Communism. Either he shows
admirable disinterestedness, or else the race of people, who, mounted
on a tree, cut on the side nearest the trunk the branch that supports
them, is not yet extinct.
I must now sum up the conversations I have had with these gentlemen
during the day. First, I must affirm, that they all declare in the most
positive way, that in asking for Home Rule they have no after-thoughts;
they do not dream of complete separation. They wish to have autonomy,
and power to regulate their own affairs, but they are all ready to
contribute to the common expenses. They do not think of independence,
still less of a republic. They are quite decided on this point. Besides
they also explain, very clearly, that the separation, which would be
a wound and a menace for England, would be death for their country.
Irish productions are exclusively agricultural, and England is the only
market that geography allows them. England can buy whatever cattle or
pigs she requires from other places; Ireland can only sell hers in
England. Suppose that a lucky rebellion drove every Englishman out of
the island; to bring Ireland to her feet, England need not blockade the
Irish ports, she has only to close her own against Irish productions.
Under these circumstances separation would evidently be suicide.
This once understood, they willingly say when they are asked about
the agrarian laws, that they quite acknowledge how much danger State
intervention in the relations between the farmers and the landlords
involves, and how much the principle of that intervention is opposed to
the most elementary laws of economy. “But,” they add, “necessity has no
law. With us emigration is a last resource that every man endeavours to
avoid.” (This quite upset all my theories; I fancied that Irishmen were
much inclined to emigrate.)
“An Irishman never emigrates except through compulsion or force. A
ruined man will take a farm at any price, knowing perfectly well that
it will be impossible for him to pay for it, but also knowing that the
landlord will give him credit for the first year or two’s rent, and
that he will thus postpone the day when he must seek work in England or
America as long as possible.
“Under these circumstances the law of supply and demand is evidently
vitiated, and it is by looking at the question from this point, that we
can maintain that the work of the Land League has done good. Without
our intervention the landlords would have depopulated one-half of
Ireland, for agriculture is in such a distressed state that it is
naturally impossible for farmers to pay their rent in the present state
of the division of land; the only remedy for this situation is the
formation of small holdings, which have so much enriched France.”
Here I stopped them. “But,” said I, “the agricultural crisis is not
confined to your country. It exists all over Europe. We, Frenchmen, are
suffering so much from it that in my department of the Aisne, one of
the richest in France, one-tenth of the land is abandoned, because it
is found that at present prices the sale of produce does not cover the
expenses of cultivation. The peasant proprietors of whom you speak are
absolutely ruined now, because their land has lost all its value. Now,
allow me to say, without offending you, that our land and our climate
are far better than yours.
“This state of things, which prevails all over Europe and which is
the result of facility of transport, can only have two solutions:
emigration or protection. Up till now you have had recourse to
emigration, and you have managed comparatively well since the failure
in the potato harvest, which led to the famine in 1847, when you had
nine million inhabitants. In 1877 it only caused less misery because
there were four or five million less mouths. It appears that now you do
not wish for any further emigration, unluckily, protection is almost
impossible. We can apply it at home. We have already done so, and shall
do it again. It is possible because we are a very homogeneous people,
where all industries work side by side. When we ask the blacksmith
to pay a little more for his bread in order that his neighbour, the
farmer, may live, he easily understands that if the farmer is ruined
he will no longer have horses to be shod. Besides, the farmer is his
neighbour, perhaps his relation. With you everything is different. You
only produce meat and butter, and only English workmen can possibly
buy them. You require their custom, _they do not need yours_, and,
more than this, you loudly proclaim that you do not belong to the same
race, that between you and them there is war to the knife, that you
wish to be as completely separated as possible, compatible with your
own interests without paying the least attention to theirs. How can you
hope to succeed when you act in this way?”
In my opinion these gentlemen have not answered my objections in a
satisfactory manner. They do not appear to know that the agricultural
crisis exists anywhere but here. In principle they would be partisans
of the protective system, but they recognise that they cannot hope to
obtain it from England, at least for a long time.
What form of government do they intend giving to autonomic Ireland? As
a rule these men evade giving any decided information on the subject,
and this is very natural. Give us the principle, they say, the first
Irish Parliament will regulate all matters of detail. However, before
giving the principle, it is natural enough that England should wish
to know what the consequences will be. An article in the _Nineteenth
Century_, from the pen of Mr. Barry O’Brien, has recently dealt with
this question.
According to him, there are five men who, in public opinion, so
completely personify the cause of Ireland that their ideas would
prevail whenever it became a question of giving definite form to the
Nationalist aspirations. These five men are Messrs. Parnell, Davitt,
Healy, Archbishop Croke, and Archbishop Walsh. Now, according to
what we know of their opinions, we may form an exact idea of the
combination they would uphold. It would consist in:
The creation of an Irish Parliament, sitting at Dublin, and invested
with the most extended legislative powers on all local subjects;
it would consequently make all the laws relating to questions
of property, justice, police, and commerce. But the Imperial
Government will preserve an absolute authority upon all the following
questions:--Foreign relations--especially the right of declaring
war--the army, navy, coinage, posts, and customs. All the Imperial
expenses would be covered by means of a tax, collected before any other
levy, from the Irish revenue, and the payment of this tax would be
received by crown officials.
Would the Irish Parliament admit of an Upper House? Yes; in all
probability. Mr. Dwyer Gray is a great partisan of this idea. Only he
states, with deep regret, that all the Irish peers, having up to the
present time shown themselves absolutely hostile to any project of Home
Rule, and besides having lost any kind of political influence, it would
probably be difficult to have recourse to them to form the Upper House.
But he does not say who would replace them.
A second question arises: Would Ireland return members to the Imperial
Parliament as Mr. Gladstone proposes? This idea alone exasperates the
English considerably, for they say that if separation is forced upon
them, they will at least be spared the insult of seeing the Irish
continue to take part in the elaboration of laws, to which they will
themselves be subject no longer. Many Irishmen renounce this privilege.
It is, however, known that the Archbishops greatly desire it, because
they consider that in the regulation of religious questions, the
influence of Irish Catholics might often be useful to the interests of
their English co-religionists. Mr. Parnell also shares their views.
Such in its main lines is the programme desired by the Land League. It
includes very onerous and very dangerous sacrifices for England. And
then as Mr. R---- said, we may ask, whether when once these sacrifices
are made, the Irish encouraged by their success, will not take them as
a starting-point for new claims. Unfortunately the history of popular
revolutions shows, that once entered on the pathway of concessions, it
is very difficult for a government to stop.
However, it appears to me that in this respect the Irish revolution
will offer some guarantees, of which the others were quite destitute.
In this country there exist very powerful elements of social
preservation. In the first place, religion has an enormous influence,
that later events have only augmented. Then the war of classes is
certainly not carried to its highest point, nor has it at all the same
character as with us. The peasant’s hatred is not roused against the
landlord because he is noble and rich, but because he is Protestant,
and represents in his eyes the invader. The Irish who return from
America bring with them ultra democratic ideas, which are, perhaps,
propagated; but up to now, the bulk of the nation does not hold them.
With us, in the eyes of all good democrats, it is an irremediable blot
to belong nearly or distantly to the nobility. The Marquis de Songeon
could not obtain a nomination to the Municipal Council of Paris,
although he was atheist and radical to the last degree, unless he
called himself M. Songeon. Here, in every case, where a man can attach
himself to a noble family, he never fails to do it, and as soon as a
political man begins to attain notoriety, every newspaper belonging to
his party asserts that he is a direct descendant from the Irish kings.
Verily there must have been a great many of them!
In London, in Mr. R----’s drawing-room, I heard the Land League and
Home Rule discussed from the English point of view; Messrs. Harrington,
Gray, Biggar, and O’Sullivan have spoken to me about it from the Irish
side. I am therefore well acquainted with the theoretical view of the
question. Now I wish to see the Land League at work. In this respect,
Ireland is divided into two very distinct parts, which are very unequal
in size. In the first, which includes Ulster, and is much the smaller,
the population is nearly equally divided between the two religions.
In this province the Land League has been unable to establish its
authority in an absolute way; it is always in the militant stage. In
the south, on the contrary, the Protestant element, we may say, is
non-existent, or at least is only represented by a few landowners. The
Land League was able to establish itself there without any struggle.
Its authority is unquestioned. Consequently everything that happens
there is the application of its doctrines. I must therefore study them
in the south. With this object I leave to-morrow for Limerick, where
Colonel M---- has kindly invited me to stay with him. From there I
shall branch off into Kerry and Clare, and I fancy that it is in that
direction that I shall have the best opportunity of examining the work
of this formidable machine which, for the last four years, has held all
the powers of the English Government in check.