THE COLLAPSE OF RICHARD PIGOTT
Sir Charles Russell's cross-examination of Pigott on the fifty-fourth
and fifty-fifth days of the Commission's sittings is generally
considered to be one of the finest things of the kind, from a
technical point of view, ever heard. A friend who was much with him
at that time relates that, on the day the cross-examination
commenced, he was irritable and depressed and unable to eat, and that
he could not have been more nervous had he been a junior with his
first brief instead of the most formidable advocate at the Bar. But,
as he stood facing the forger, his whole appearance changed. He was
a picture of calmness, self-possession, and strength, there was no
sign of impatience or irritability, not a trace of anxiety or
care.[1] In the profound silence that had fallen upon the court he
began, in tones of great courtesy:
Mr. Pigott, would you be good enough, with my Lord's permission, to
write some words on that sheet of paper for me. Perhaps you will sit
down in order to do it. [He gave him the sheet of paper he had in
his hand.] Would you like to sit down?
_Pigott_. Oh no, thanks.
_The President_. Well, but I think that it is better that you should
sit down. Here is a table upon which you can write in the ordinary
way, the course you always pursue.
_Sir Charles Russell_. Will you write the word "livelihood"? {392}
Just leave a space. Will you write the word "likelihood"? Will you
write your own name, leaving a space between each? Will you write
the word "proselytism," and finally, I think I will not trouble you
any more at present, "Patrick Egan" and "P. Egan" underneath
it--"Patrick Egan" first and "P. Egan" underneath it? There is one
word more I had forgotten. Lower down, please, leaving spaces, write
the word "hesitancy" with a small "h."
Pigott, after he had written what he was told, handed back the sheet
of paper, and, as soon as Sir Charles Russell had glanced at it, he
knew that he had scored a great point for Mr. Parnell. The word that
he had told Pigott to write last, and with a small "h," as if that
were the significant part of the experiment, was the word which
Pigott had misspelt in one of the letters supposed to be from Parnell
to Egan which the Attorney-General had produced at the O'Donnell _v._
Walter trial. Pigott had again spelt it wrong. Hesitancy on the
piece of paper which he handed back to Sir Charles Russell was spelt
"hesitency."
The cross-examination of Pigott occupied the rest of that day, and
before the end of it the wretched man had fallen into hopeless
confusion. The production of some of his correspondence with the
Archbishop of Dublin (Dr. Walsh), in which he offered, for a
consideration of course, to avert the possibility of a blow which was
about to fall upon the Nationalist party (presumably the publication
of the facsimile letter), almost finished his brazen self-command.
The day's sitting ended in a roar of laughter, for Pigott's silly,
aimless reflections, elicited by the advocate's remorseless,
persistent questions, were ludicrous, and it was easy to see what the
climax of the affair would be. The next day things went worse and
worse for Pigott. A correspondence which he had with Egan in 1881
was produced, in which he had misspelt the word "hesitancy" as he had
done the day before in court. Egan's answers to Pigott were not
forthcoming, for reasons which the forger made known later on, but
the {393} drafts of these answers, produced by Mr. Lewis (who had got
them direct from Mr. Egan through Mr. Labouchere), bearing a
remarkable similarity to the Egan letters produced by the _Times_,
were read by Sir Charles Russell. Copies of letters written by Mr.
Parnell to Pigott in 1881 were also read out, coinciding word for
word in parts with the "facsimile letter" and the others put in by
the accusers of the Nationalist party. Then Pigott was made to
acknowledge how he had blackmailed Mr. Forster, and Mr. Wemyss Reid
produced the Pigott-Forster correspondence in court. Before the
reading of this correspondence was finished, the densely packed
audience in the court, according to the _Daily News_ reporter, was
wrought up to the highest pitch of amusement and excitement. The
court usher had long since ceased to cry out "Silence!" The
merriment was almost continuous. The judges themselves were unable
to repress their feelings. A loud ringing roar of laughter broke
forth as Sir Charles Russell read one letter containing Pigott's
application for £200 to enable him to proceed to Sydney, and some
hints as to the pressure which was brought to bear upon him to
publish the Forster letters. Mr. Justice Day, bending forward,
reddened and shook with laughter. In this letter Pigott wrote: "I
feel this is my last chance, and if that fails only the workhouse and
the grave remains." Poor Pigott looked as if he would prefer even
the grave to the witness-box. He changed colour; the helpless,
foolish smile flickered about the weak heavy mouth; his hands moved
about restlessly, nervously. Then came the climax--Pigott's letter
to Mr. Forster, saying that he felt tempted to reveal to the world
how he had been bribed by Mr. Forster to write against the interests
of Ireland. The notion of Pigott's appearing in the character of
injured innocence sent the audience off once more into a fit of
laughter. It was now four o'clock, and, in the uproar and confusion,
Pigott descended from the box, smiling foolishly.[2] That he had
forged {394} the letters no one now doubted for a moment. The way he
had actually done it was not yet absolutely clear, but the ingenuous
Pigott was not going to leave any mysteries unsolved. The court was
adjourned until the following Tuesday.
The story of how the court met on February 26, and when Pigott was
called upon to enter the witness-box there was no answer, and how it
was subsequently elicited that he had disappeared from his hotel on
the previous afternoon and not been seen again, has been graphically
told by more than one writer. Who had given him the money to bolt,
and who had assisted him to evade the constables who were supposed to
be watching him, has never been positively revealed, but the fact
remained--there was no Pigott there to tell the end of his squalid
tale. The court adjourned for some thirty minutes, and then Sir
Charles Russell made the startling announcement that Pigott, without
an invitation from any one, had called upon Mr. Labouchere in
Grosvenor Gardens on the previous Saturday, the day after his
disastrous cross-examination, and had then and there dictated to him
a full confession. This confession had been signed by Pigott and
witnessed by Mr. George Augustus Sala. Mr. George Lewis, to whom Mr.
Labouchere had communicated the confession, had refused to have
anything to do with the document, and sent it back to Pigott with the
following letter:
ELY PLACE, HOLBORN, Feb. 25, 1889.
SIR,--Mr. Labouchere has informed me that on Saturday you called at
his house and expressed a desire to make a statement in writing, and
he has handed to us the confession you have made, that you are the
forger of the whole of the letters given in evidence by the _Times_
purporting to be written respectively by Mr. Parnell, Mr. Egan, Mr.
Davitt, and Mr. O'Kelly, and that, in addition, you committed perjury
in support of the case of the _Times_. Mr. Parnell has instructed us
to inform you that he declines to hold any communication directly or
indirectly with you, and he further {395} instructs us to return you
the written confession which we enclose, and which for safety sake we
send by hand.--We are, sir, yours obediently,
LEWIS & LEWIS.
Richard Pigott, Esq.
On the following day Sir Richard Webster made the announcement to the
court that a letter had been received in Pigott's handwriting, posted
in Paris, addressed to Mr. Shannon, the Dublin solicitor, who had
been assisting Mr. Soames. The letter had not been opened, and he
handed it to the President of the Commission, who passed it down to
Mr. Cunynghame, and asked him to open and read its contents. It was
Pigott's confession made to Mr. Labouchere and Mr. Lewis's letter to
Pigott quoted above. The envelope contained also a note from the
irrepressible Pigott as follows:
HÔTEL DE DEUX MONDES,
AVENUE DE L'OPERA, PARIS, Tuesday.
DEAR SIR,--Just before I left enclosed was handed to me. It had been
left while I was out. Will write again soon.--Yours truly,
R. PIGOTT.
The confession, as far as the letters were concerned, ran as follows:
The circumstances connected with the obtaining of the letters, as I
gave in evidence, are not true. No one save myself was concerned in
the transaction. I told Houston that I had discovered the letters in
Paris, but I grieve to have to confess that I simply myself
fabricated them, using genuine letters of Messrs. Parnell and Egan in
copying certain words, phrases, and general character of the
handwriting. I traced some words and phrases by putting the genuine
letter against the window, and placing on it the sheet of which
copies have been read in court, and four or five letters of Mr. Egan,
which were also read in court. I destroyed these letters after using
them. Some of the {396} signatures I traced in this manner, and some
I wrote. I then wrote to Houston telling him to come to Paris for
the documents. I told him that they had been placed in a black bag
with some old accounts, scraps of paper, and old newspapers. On his
arrival I produced to him the letters, accounts, and scraps of paper.
After a brief inspection he handed me a cheque on Cook for £500, the
price that I told him I had agreed to pay for them. At the same time
he gave me £105 in bank-notes as my own commission. The accounts put
in were leaves torn from an old account book of my own, which
contained details of the expenditure of Fenian money entrusted to me
from time to time, which is mainly in the handwriting of David
Murphy, my cashier. The scraps I found in the bottom of an old
writing-desk. I do not recollect in whose writing they are.
The second batch of letters was also written by me. Mr. Parnell's
signature was imitated from that published in the _Times_ facsimile
letter. I do not now remember where I got the Egan letter from which
I copied the signature.
I had no specimen of Campbell's handwriting beyond the two letters of
Mr. Parnell to me, which I presumed might be in Mr. Campbell's
handwriting. I wrote to Mr. Houston that this second batch was for
sale in Paris, having been brought there from America. He wrote
asking to see them. I forwarded them accordingly, and after keeping
them three or four days, he sent me a cheque on Cook for the price
demanded for them, £550. The third batch consisted of a letter
imitated by me from a letter written in pencil to me by Mr. Davitt
when he was in prison, and of another letter copied by me from a
letter of a very early date, which I received from James O'Kelly when
he was writing on my newspapers, and of a third letter ascribed to
Egan, the writing of which, and some of the words, I copied from an
old bill of exchange in Mr. Egan's handwriting. £200 was the price
paid to me by Mr. Houston for these three letters. It was paid in
bank-notes. I have stated that for the first batch I received £105
for myself, for the second batch I got £50, for the third batch I was
supposed to receive nothing.
I did not see Breslin in America. This was part of the deception.
With respect to my interview with Messrs. Parnell, Labouchere, {397}
and Lewis, my sworn statement is in the main correct. I am now,
however, of opinion that the offer to me by Mr. Labouchere of £1000
was not for giving evidence but for any documents in Mr. Egan's or
Mr. Parnell's handwriting that I might happen to have. My statement
only referred to the first interviews with these gentlemen. I had a
further interview with Mr. Labouchere, on which occasion I made him
acquainted with further circumstances not previously mentioned by me
at the preceding interviews.
There was a pause after Mr. Cunynghame finished reading the
extraordinary document. It was an awkward moment for the
Attorney-General, but, in an extremely dignified speech, he informed
the court that, on behalf of his clients, he asked permission to
withdraw from the consideration of the Commission the question of the
genuineness of the letters which had been submitted to them. On that
day Mr. Parnell appeared for the first time in the witness-box, and
in answer to Sir Charles Russell's questions swore to the forgery of
his signature on all the letters in question. There was no attempt
to cross-examine on the part of Sir Richard Webster. Mr. Labouchere
entered the witness-box on March 3. He gave his evidence very slowly
and realistically, rather in the style perhaps of what Lord Randolph
Churchill described as newspaper paragraphs, but there was no lack of
connection in his descriptions of his various interviews with Pigott.
When it came to the final interview on the preceding Saturday the
questions of the great advocate became very close.
_Sir Charles Russell_. He came to your house?
_Mr. Labouchere_. He did.
_Sir Charles Russell_. Did you expect him?
_Mr. Labouchere_. No.
_Sir Charles Russell_. Had he given you any warning he was coming?
_Mr. Labouchere_. No.
_Sir Charles Russell_. Or had you asked him to come?
{398}
_Mr. Labouchere_. No.
_Sir Charles Russell_. Now tell us what took place on the occasion.
_Mr. Labouchere_. He came in. I did not catch the name when the
servant introduced him. I was writing at the table, and looked up,
and saw him standing before me, and he said to me, "I suppose you are
surprised at seeing me here?" And I said, "Oh! not at all. Pray
take a seat."
_Sir Charles Russell_. I said what----?
_Mr. Labouchere_. "Not at all." Nothing would surprise me about Mr.
Pigott. He sat down. He then said that he had come over to confess
everything; that he supposed he should have to go to prison, and he
was just as well there as anywhere else. I said that he must
thoroughly understand if he did confess, the confession would be
handed to Mr. Lewis, and that I must have a witness.
Of the historic interview in Mr. Labouchere's study in Grosvenor
Gardens there has been no more graphic an account written than the
one by its only witness, the veteran journalist, George Augustus Sala:
In February 1889 [he wrote] I was the occupant of a fiat in Victoria
Street, Westminster, and one Saturday, between one and two P.M., a
knock came at my study door, and I was handed a letter which had been
brought in hot haste by a servant who was instructed to wait for an
answer. The missive was of the briefest possible kind, and was from
my near neighbour Mr. Henry Labouchere, M.P., whose house was then at
24 Grosvenor Gardens. The note ran thus: "Can you leave everything
and come here at once? Most important business.--H.L." I told the
servant that I would be in Grosvenor Gardens within a quarter of an
hour, and, ere that time had expired, I was ushered into a large
library on the ground floor, where I found the senior member for
Northampton smoking his sempiternal cigarette, but with an unusual
and curious expression of animation on his normally passive
countenance.
He was not alone. Ensconced in a roomy fauteuil, a few paces from
Mr. Labouchere's writing-table, there was a somewhat {399} burly
individual of middle stature and more than middle age. He looked
fully sixty, although I have been given to understand that his age
did not exceed fifty-five; but his elderly aspect was enhanced by his
baldness, which revealed a large amount of oval _os frontis_ fringed
by grey locks. The individual had an eyeglass screwed into one eye,
and he was using this optical aid most assiduously; for he was poring
over a copy of that morning's issue of the _Times_, going right down
one column and apparently up it again; then taking column after
column in succession; then harking back as though he had omitted some
choice paragraph; and then resuming the sequence of his lecture, ever
and anon tapping that ovoid frontal bone of his, as though to evoke
memories of the past, with a little silver pencil-case. I noted his
somewhat shabby genteel attire, and, in particular, I observed that
the hand which held the copy of the _Times_ never ceased to shake.
Mr. Labouchere, in his most courteous manner and his blandest tone,
said, "Allow me to introduce you to a gentleman of whom you must have
heard a great deal, Mr.----." I replied, "There is not the slightest
necessity for naming him. I know him well enough. That's Mr.
Pigott."
The individual in the capacious fauteuil wriggled from behind the
_Times_ an uneasy acknowledgment of my recognition; but if anything
could be conducive to putting completely at his ease a gentleman who,
from some cause or another, was troubled in his mind, it would have
been the dulcet voice in which Mr. Labouchere continued: "The fact is
that Mr. Pigott has come here, quite unsolicited, to make a full
confession. I told him that I would listen to nothing he had to say,
save in the presence of a witness, and, remembering that you lived
close by, I thought that you would not mind coming here and listening
to what Mr. Pigott has to confess, which will be taken down, word by
word, from his dictation in writing." It has been my lot during a
long and diversified career to have to listen to a large number of
very queer statements from very queer people; and, by dint of
experience, you reach at last a stage of stoicism when little, if
anything, that is imparted to you excites surprise. Mr. Pigott,
although he had screwed his courage to the sticking place of saying
that he was going to confess, manifested considerable tardiness in
orally "owning up." Conscience, we were justified in assuming, had
{400} gnawed to an extent sufficient to make him disposed to relieve
his soul from a dreadful burden; but conscience, to all seeming, had
to gnaw a little longer and a little more sharply ere he absolutely
gave tongue. So we let him be for about ten minutes. Mr. Labouchere
kindled another cigarette. I lighted a cigar.
At length Mr. Pigott stood up and came forward into the light, by the
side of Mr. Labouchere's writing-table. He did not change colour; he
did not blench; but when--out of the fulness of his heart, no
doubt--his mouth spake, it was in a low, half-musing tone, more at
first as though he were talking to himself than to any auditors. By
degrees, however, his voice rose, his diction became more fluent. It
is only necessary that, in this place, I should say that, in
substance, Pigott confessed that he had forged the letters alleged to
have been written by Mr. Parnell; and he minutely described the
manner in which he, and he alone, had executed the forgeries in
question. Whether the man with the bald head and the eyeglass in the
library at Grosvenor Gardens was telling the truth or was uttering
another batch of infernal lies it is not for me to determine. No
pressure was put upon him, no leading questions were asked him, and
he went on quietly and continuously to the end of a story which I
should have thought amazing had I not had occasion to hear many more
tales even more astounding. He was not voluble, but he was
collected, clear, and coherent; nor, although he repeatedly confessed
to forgery, fraud, deception, and misrepresentation, did he seem
overcome with anything approaching active shame. His little
peccadilloes were plainly owned, but he appeared to treat them more
as incidental weakness than as extraordinary acts of wickedness.
When he had come to the end of his statement Mr. Labouchere left the
library for a few minutes to obtain a little refreshment. It was a
great relief to me when he came back, for, when Pigott and I were
left together, there came over me a vague dread that he might
disclose his complicity with the Rye House Plot, or that he would
admit that he had been the executioner of King Charles I. The
situation was rather embarrasing; the time might have been tided over
by whistling, but unfortunately I never learnt to whistle. It would
have been rude to read a book; and besides, to do so would have
necessitated my taking my eyes off {401} Mr. Pigott, and I never took
them off him. We did get into conversation, but our talk was curt
and trite. He remarked, first taking up that so-often-conned
_Times_, that the London papers were inconveniently large. This,
being a self-evident proposition, met with no response from me, but
on his proceeding to say, in quite a friendly manner, that I must
have found the afternoon's interview rather stupid work, I replied
that, on the contrary, so far as I was concerned, I had found it
equally amusing and instructive. Then the frugal Mr. Labouchere
coming back with his mouth full, we went to business again. The
whole of Pigott's confession, beginning with the declaration that he
had made it uninvited and without any pecuniary consideration, was
read over to him line by line and word by word. He made no
correction or alteration whatsoever. The confession covered several
sheets of paper, and to each sheet he affixed his initials. Finally,
at the bottom of the completed document he signed his name beneath
which I wrote mine as a witness.[3]
The history of the Commission subsequent to Pigott's disappearance
does not belong to this biography. It is enough to say that it
terminated its business on November 20, 1889, after having sat no
less than 126 times.
On the 8th of March, eight days after his last appearance in the
witness-box, the news of Pigott's suicide reached London. It
appeared that after his interview with Mr. Labouchere and Mr. Sala,
he treated himself to an evening's amusement at the Alhambra Music
Hall. He left on Monday morning for Paris, whence he posted the
envelope containing his confession and other enclosures to Mr.
Shannon. He reached Madrid on Thursday, where he put up at the Hotel
des Ambassadeurs, and spent the afternoon and following morning in
visiting the churches and picture galleries. He would not have been
tracked so quickly by the detectives if he had not sent a wire to Mr.
Shannon--the Dublin solicitor who had assisted Mr. Soames--asking for
the money "you promised me," which gave the clue to his {402}
whereabouts. On the following afternoon, when he was informed by the
hotel interpreter that a police officer wanted him, he retired to his
bedroom and shot himself through the brain.[4]
Richard Pigott had one redeeming feature in his character--unless his
complete lack of self-consciousness in evil doing be counted as
another--an intense love for his motherless children. There were
four of these. Mr. Labouchere's compassion for the wretched man had
early been aroused in connection with the really pathetic state of
his domestic affairs, and, although his "underground" relations with
Pigott prevented him from being able to promise definitely to give
him any assistance for his children in the event of the _Times_ or
Parnell prosecuting him as a consequence of his confession, it is
easily to be imagined that Pigott would have perceived during his
visits to Grosvenor Gardens the extraordinary tenderness of feeling
that Mr. Labouchere could never conceal where there was a question of
any suffering to be saved to a child. In his examination by Sir
Charles Russell Mr. Labouchere had said: "Pigott said to me, 'I shall
go to prison, but perhaps I am better there than anywhere else; the
only thing I regret is the position of my children, who will starve.'
I said: 'Well, I think they won't starve, or anything of that sort,
but if you want me to make any terms about your children, you must
not expect it from me.'" Poor puzzled Pigott! He had done
everything he could to please every one round him, and yet he could
get no one at this crisis to do the one thing that would have set his
fluttering mind at ease. No one would promise to befriend the four
little boys at Kingstown. Truly, as he had told Mr. Labouchere, he
was in a terrible mess.
But as soon as the poor fellow was dead, and his motives could no
longer be impugned by the vigilant Tories, Mr. Labouchere set himself
with energy to see that the children were cared for. He sent a
friend to Kingstown to report to {403} him on the condition of the
orphans, and she wrote to him as follows: "I had a long chat with the
housekeeper who is to my mind an excellent woman. A more
self-forgetful creature I never saw, and nobody ever wrapped truths
in softer garments. She pitied her master. She says that Pigott
adored these children, and that it was his desire to give them
comforts and education which drove him into such crimes. I do hope
that something will be done for these poor friendless children, to
whom the father was a most indulgent parent. I saw lying in the room
little toy yachts and tricycles, bearing evidence that there was
softness as well as weakness in the character of the dead man. The
only relative that the housekeeper knows of is an uncle, who holds a
good position under the Government. She wrote to him and got no
reply." A fund was started for the benefit of the children, and in
the pages of _Truth_ Mr. Labouchere pleaded their cause with
eloquence. In May Archbishop Walsh wrote to him as follows:
4 RUTLAND SQUARE,
DUBLIN, May 23, 1889.
DEAR MR. LABOUCHERE,--There are two ways in which effect can be given
to your charitable purpose. The trust can be executed direct through
me, or I can arrange to have the matter carried out by the parish
priests of the place where Pigott lived--Glasthule close by
Kingstown, Dublin. I may say to you that two generous offers were
made to me immediately after the suicide. One was a proposal to take
charge of the two elder boys with a view to their emigration to the
U.S. or Canada, where something would be done to give them a fair
start. The other was an offer to take one of the younger children
and practically to provide for this little fellow by an informal
adoption.
In both cases I pointed out that there is, I fear, a serious
difficulty in the way of my interfering in any prominent way in the
case, and indeed in the interference of anyone who is an active
sympathizer (as was the case in the two offers) with Home Rule, etc.
{404}
The Liberal Unionists of Dublin who brought the unfortunate father
into temptation have a heavy responsibility towards the poor
children. It is worse than mean of them to shirk it. But they not
only shirk it, they try to throw the responsibility on to the other
side. The insinuation made by many of them is that Pigott was got
out of the country by sympathizers with Mr. Parnell, and that the
suicide even may have been managed for a consideration.
A very serious question then arises as to what can be prudently done
in the case of the children. Of course they must not be neglected.
But, so far as I can see, there is no present danger on that score.
The two elder boys are at school at Clongowes, a high-class school
for lay pupils, conducted by the Jesuit Fathers. Their schoolfellows
have, throughout the whole case, shown a splendid spirit towards
them. The two younger boys are safely placed in charge of the former
housekeeper in a place where they are not known, not far from Dublin.
My advice would be to let matters lie until the school holiday time
comes on, about the beginning of July.
In the meantime I shall communicate with the persons who made the
offers of which I have told you.
When the case comes to be dealt with, I should suggest that the best
way to act would be through Canon Harold, the parish priest.
Meanwhile should not something be done through the newspapers to work
up the call, which can be most legitimately made, on the Irish
Liberal Unionists to do at all events something really substantial in
the case?--I remain, dear Mr. Labouchere, faithfully yours,
WILLIAM WALSH, Archbishop of Dublin.
The statement of Dr. Walsh that there were people in Dublin who
insinuated that Pigott had been got out of the country by the friends
of the Nationalists seems almost incredible, but it is a fact that,
even in England, in country places, lectures were given, under the
auspices of the Primrose League, to persuade rural voters, who might
have been reading the newspapers, that the forgery of the Pigott
letters {405} had never been proved, and even more ridiculous
statements were made in some places. Mr. Labouchere wrote in _Truth_
on March 7:
I feel it my duty solemnly to affirm that (incredible as it may
appear to Primrose Dames) I did not bribe Pigott to commit suicide by
promising him an annuity. It is somewhat fortunate for me that I can
prove an alibi; otherwise I make no doubt that I should have been
accused of having been concealed in Pigott's room at Madrid, and
having shot him. Well, well, I suppose that allowance must be made
for the crew of idiots who have gone about vowing that the _Times_
forgeries were genuine letters, and who are now grovelling in the
mire that they have prepared for themselves.
Nothing can exceed my sorrow that we were not privileged to hear in
court the evidence of the expert in handwriting, Inglis. So great,
indeed, is my regret that I will willingly (if the _Times_ is in want
of money) pay the sum of £20 for his "proof." I have always regarded
these experts as the most dreary of humbugs, and in this view I am
now confirmed. I myself subjected the photographs of the _Times_
forgeries to the limelight in a magic-lantern, and I soon discovered
that there were signs of tracing. In some of the words--and
particularly in the signatures--there is a small white line, where
the ink had not taken over the tracing. If Inglis had done the same,
he would not probably have made so ridiculous a fool of himself.
It must be owned that Mr. Labouchere made himself exceedingly
annoying in the pages of _Truth_ on the subject of the forged
letters. His taunts and scathing witticisms at the expense of the
prosecuting side and Messrs. Soames, Houston & Co. were almost past
enduring, and more than one apology was furiously demanded of him, to
which he usually replied by heaping more ridicule on the unfortunate,
writhing victim. Some abortive attempts were made to hoax him and
make a fool of him as he succeeded so frequently in doing of others.
In the winter of 1889 a somewhat unpleasant case was brought before
the Central Criminal {406} Court, the only event of public interest
connected with which was the departure from England of a well-known
nobleman on the very eve of the day that the warrant was issued for
his arrest, and it was in connection with this affair that someone
tried to put salt on Labby's tail. Whoever the joker was he must
have felt rather sold when he read the following paragraph in the
next issue of Labby's journal;
I have received through the post the following letter and enclosure.
Evidently someone is attempting to Pigott me. I do not hesitate to
say that the letters are not from those by whom they profess to be
written. It is really shameful that two such good men and true as
Lord Salisbury and Mr. Houston should be selected for this
reprehensible hoax.
PRIMROSE LEAGUE CENTRAL OFFICES,
VICTORIA STREET.
SIR, I enclose you an autograph letter of Lord Salisbury. I obtained
it from a man of the name of Hammond, whom I promised to reward if he
could get me any letters likely to injure the character of Tory
leaders. He tells me that a client of his in Cleveland Street called
upon him and produced it from a black bag. I have already offered
the letter to Lord Hartington and to the Editor of the _Pall Mall
Gazette_, but they have both declined to have anything to do with it.
If you use it I must request you to send me a cheque for £1000, and
you must pledge yourself never to give up the name of Hammond. He is
a very worthy man, and he fears that if it were known that he had
given me the letter some Tory would shoot him.--Your obedient servant,
E. C. HOUSTON.
(_Enclosure_)
HATFIELD HOUSE, Oct., 17.
MY DEAR LORD***,--There is a good deal of evidence against you,
although the Lord Chancellor and the Attorney-General have decided
that the evidence of identity is not sufficient, but I hear a rumour
that more evidence can be obtained. I can count upon the Chancellor
standing to his guns, but I am not quite so sure of Webster. He, you
know, will have to answer that {407} scoundrel Labouchere in the
House of Commons, when he brings on the subject and he is getting
shaky. Perhaps he will be forced to issue a warrant.--Yours very
truly,
SALISBURY.
Another hoax practised on Mr. Labouchere came off, and a considerable
time elapsed before the perpetrator of it was discovered. He
eventually turned out to be a member of one of the most staid and
respectable clubs in London. Here is the story of the hoax, as Mr.
Labouchere related it in _Truth_:
During the last few weeks I have received a number of anonymous
letters, all in the same handwriting, couched in terms the reverse of
complimentary. Some of them were on the paper of the East India
United Service Club, St. James's Square. This did not trouble me, as
I receive so many of such letters that I am accustomed to them. On
Thursday last, however, my anonymous friend sent orders signed in my
name to a number of tradesmen desiring them to send me goods. He
ordered two hearses each with two mourning coaches, and requested a
representative of the cremation company to call and arrange for my
cremation. He also ordered a marriage cake of Messrs. Buzzard, a bed
of Messrs. Shoolbred furniture of Messrs. Maple, Messrs. Druce, and
Messrs. Barker & Co.; coal of Messrs. Whiteley, Ricketts, Herbert
Clarke & Co.; Cockerell & Lee; a coat of Mr. Cording, caps of Messrs.
Lincoln & Bennett, a billiard table of Messrs. Thurston, prints of
Messrs. Clifford, carpets of Messrs. Swan & Edgar, beer, spirits, and
wine from several firms, some of which was delivered, and a vast
number of other goods from West End houses, including an umbilical
belt for hernia from a city firm. He also sent letters to various
physicians in my name, and they have favoured me in reply with
prescriptions for divers diseases. He further engaged cabins for me
to India and to the United States. Not content with this he ordered
a salmon to be sent in my name to Mr. Gladstone, a Stilton cheese to
Sir William Harcourt, a travelling bag to Mr. Asquith, and a haunch
of venison to Sir George Trevelyan. And he supplemented these
liberal orders {408} by issuing invitations in the name of a mythical
niece to a party at Twickenham and a dinner at my London house. All
this is far more annoying to the tradesmen than it is to me, and I
would therefore suggest to my friend to revert to his old plan of
anonymous letters. Neither of the hearses came, owing to
representatives of the firms having called to know how many men would
be required to carry my corpse downstairs. Had the hearse arrived it
would have been curious, as the mutes would probably have disputed in
which I was to be moved off, and would have had to appeal to me
eating my marriage cake and arrayed in my umbilical belt to decide to
which I would give my preference.
[1] Barry O'Brien, _Life of Lord Russell of Killowen._
[2] Macdonald, _Diary of the Parnell Commission._
[3] _Life of Sala_, written by himself, vol. ii.
[4] Macdonald, _Diary of the Parnell Commission._
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