"papel y tinta y poca justicia."
("paper, ink, and a little justice.")
—old spanish proverb.
in november, 1890, parnell was served with a copy of the petition in the divorce case, o'shea v. o'shea and parnell, by wontner at messrs. lewis and lewis's. i was served with the petition in the same month at 10, walsingham terrace, brighton. mr. george lewis and his confidential clerk came down, and took some evidence for the case from me, but parnell declined to instruct any solicitor from the first to last. he, however, accompanied me when i went to town to consult sir frank lockwood, my counsel, a junior counsel being also present.
"the consultation broke up in peals of laughter," said one of the less important of the evening papers of the time. this was quite true, but it had no bearing on the case at all, for the laughter was caused by the extremely funny stories told us, in his own inimitable way, by sir frank lockwood. the two or three times i saw him stand out in my memory as hours of brilliant wit and nonsense, that cheered and invigorated us far more than the advice we did not ask for could have done. parnell would not fight the case, and i could not fight it without him. the last time i saw sir frank lockwood, the day before the case came on, he begged me to get parnell to let him fight it. i was suffering acutely from neuralgic headache at the {281} time, but i did my best to get parnell to defend the case, though to no purpose.
we left sir frank lockwood with a promise to telegraph to him by eight o'clock the next morning if we would go up and appear in court at all, as he had to be there by ten o'clock.
we had to return to brighton in the pullman car, as we could not get a carriage to ourselves. it was crowded, and parnell was known; it was therefore very difficult to talk without being overheard. parnell appeared absolutely unconscious of the eyes furtively watching him from behind every newspaper, or, indeed, openly in the carriage, and he had the power of putting himself absolutely beyond and above self-consciousness. this is what rendered him so completely impervious to criticism. but to me, with a splitting headache, the gleam of so many eyes, seen through a mist of pain, had the most uncanny effect. they seemed like animals watching from their lair. parnell gave me a cheerful little smile now and then, and directly we got home he insisted upon my going to bed. there he fed me himself with the tiny amount i forced myself to take to please him, and held the glass to my lips while i sipped the sparkling moselle i had been ordered to take for the bad attacks of neuralgia.
after he had had his own dinner he came up and smoked by my bedside. i tried to persuade him to go up with me in the morning to the court and make some fight in the case, but he said:
"no, queenie. what's the use? we want the divorce, and, divorce or not, i shall always come where you are. i shall always come to my home every night whatever happens. now i'm going to read you to sleep."
he was always the most gentle and tender of nurses, {282} and would sit by my side for hours without moving when i was ill, reading or thinking. after a short sleep i lay awake wondering what it would be best to say to lockwood in the morning. i had told him that anyhow i would go up; but, as my lover said, what would be the use of it? and whatever i could make of captain o'shea's desertion—or practical desertion—of me, i knew absolutely nothing of his private life, and cared less. our position would be worse if we were not enabled to marry, for we were inseparable while life lasted.
then, after going over the pros and cons till my brain felt on fire, i said irritably, "i don't believe you are listening to what i say!" he replied, "i am not, beloved; here is the telegram all written out for you while you slept. we have been longing for this freedom all these years, and now you are afraid!"
i broke down and cried, because i feared for him and for his work, and he soothed me as one would a child as he told me that his life-work was ireland's always, but that his heart and his soul were mine to keep for ever—since first he looked into my eyes that summer morning, ten years before.
"queenie," he went on, "put away all fear and regret for my public life. i have given, and will give, ireland what is in me to give. that i have vowed to her, but my private life shall never belong to any country, but to one woman. there will be a howl, but it will be the howl of hypocrites; not altogether, for some of these irish fools are genuine in their belief that forms and creeds can govern life and men; perhaps they are right so far as they can experience life. but i am not as they, for they are among the world's children. i am a man, and i have told these children what they want, and they clamour for it. {283} if they will let me, i will get it for them. but if they turn from me, my queen, it matters not at all in the end. what the ultimate government of ireland will be is settled, and it will be so, and what my share in the work has been and is to be, also. i do wish you would stop fretting about me. we know nothing of how or why, but only that we love one another, and that through all the ages is the one fact that cannot be forgotten nor put aside by us."
he spoke slowly, with many silences between sentence and sentence, and presently i said: "but perhaps i have hurt your work."
"no, you have not. i sometimes think that is why you came to me, for i was very ill then and you kept the life in me and the will to go on when i was very weary of it all; you have stood to me for comfort and strength and my very life. i have never been able to feel in the least sorry for having come into your life. it had to be, and the bad times i have caused you and the stones that have been flung and that will be flung at you are all no matter, because to us there is no one else in all the world that matters at all—when you get to the bottom of things."
late next morning i awoke from the deep sleep of exhaustion to find him sitting by me superintending the arrangement of "letters, tea and toast," and to my anxious query as to the time i was answered by his quiet laugh, and "i've done you this time, queenie; i sent the telegram long ago, and they must be enjoying themselves in court by now!"
that was saturday, november 15th, and on monday, the 17th, my brighton solicitor brought me down a copy of the "decree nisi." we were very happy that evening, and parnell declared he would have the "decree" framed. we made many plans for the future that evening of where {284} we should go when the six months had passed and the decree made absolute. i even ventured to suggest that he might marry someone else once i was set completely free, but my lover was not amused and scolded me for suggesting such disgusting ideas.
sir frank lockwood was terribly distressed about us and his inability to "save parnell for his country," but he was very kind to me, and did all he could to help me in certain legal matters.
on november 26th there was a meeting of the irish party, which my king attended. the meeting was adjourned until december 1st. when my lover came home to me that evening i would not let him speak till he had changed his cold boots and socks; then he came over to me, and took me into his arms, saying, "i think we shall have to fight, queenie. can you bear it? i'm afraid it is going to be tough work."
i said, "yes, if you can." but i must confess that when i looked at the frail figure and white face that was so painfully delicate, whose only vitality seemed to lie in the deep, burning eyes, my heart misgave me for i very much doubted if his health would stand any prolonged strain.
i burst out passionately, "why does it matter more now? they have all known for years," and his rare, low laugh came out with genuine amusement as he replied, "my sweetheart, they are afraid of shocking mr. gladstone."
"but gladstone——" i began, bewildered.
"just so, but we are public reprobates now, it just makes the difference. he is a 'devout christian,' they tell me."
while parnell sat down at work at his manifesto i {285} deliberated for hours as to whether i ought to let him go on. should i urge him to come abroad with me? i knew he would come if i said i could not bear the public fight. i looked at him as he sat now absolutely absorbed in what he was writing, and now looking across at me when he had something ready to be pinned together. he did not speak, only the smoulder in his eyes grew deeper as he wrote.
i loved him so much, and i did so long to take him away from all the ingratitude and trouble—to some sunny land where we could forget the world and be forgotten. but then i knew that he would not forget; that he would come at my bidding, but that his desertion of ireland would lie at his heart; that if he was to be happy he must fight to the end. i knew him too well to dare to take him away from the cause he had made his life-work; that even if it killed him i must let him fight—fight to the end—it was himself—the great self that i loved, and that i would not spoil even through my love, though it might bring the end in death.
i looked up feeling that he was watching me, and met the burning fire-flame of his eyes steadily, through my tears, as he said, closing his hand over mine, "i am feeling very ill, queenie, but i think i shall win through. i shall never give in unless you make me, and i want you to promise me that you will never make me less than the man you have known." i promised it.
he was feeling very ill. november was always a bad month for his health, and the cold and damp gave him rheumatism. his left arm pained him almost continuously all this winter. i used to rub it and his shoulder with firwood oil, in which he had great belief, and pack his arm in wool, which seemed to be some relief.
{286}
on saturday morning, november 29th, his manifesto appeared in all the papers.[2]
war was now declared, and the first battle was fought in committee room 15, where all the miserable treachery of parnell's followers—and others—was exposed. the grand old man had spoken, and his mandate must be obeyed. ever swift to take advantage of a political opportunity, he struck at the right moment, remorselessly, for he knew that without giving away the whole of his policy parnell could not point to the hypocrisy of a religious scruple so suddenly afflicting a great statesman at the eleventh hour. for ten years gladstone had known of the relations between parnell and myself, and had taken full advantage of the facility this intimacy offered him in keeping in touch with the irish leader. for ten years. but that was a private knowledge. now it was a public knowledge, and an english statesman must always appear on the side of the angels.
so mr. gladstone found his religion could at last be useful to his country. parnell felt no resentment towards gladstone. he merely said to me, with his grave smile: "that old spider has nearly all my flies in his web," and, to my indignation against gladstone he replied: "you don't make allowances for statecraft. he has the non-conformist conscience to consider, and you know as well {287} as i do that he always loathed me. but these fools, who throw me over at his bidding, make me a little sad." and i thought of that old eagle face, with the cruel eyes that always belied the smile he gave me, and wondered no longer at the premonition of disaster that i had so often felt in his presence.
for the irish party i have never felt anything but pity—pity that they were not worthy of the man and the opportunity, and, seeing the punishment that the years have brought upon ireland, that their craven hearts could not be loyal to her greatest son. i have wondered at the blindness of her mistress, england; wondered that england should still hold out the reward of home rule to ireland, whose sons can fight even, it is said, their brothers, but who fight as children, unknowing and unmeaning, without the knowledge of a cause and without idea of loyalty.
how long the irish party had known of the relations between parnell and myself need not be here discussed. some years before certain members of the party opened one of my letters to parnell. i make no comment.
parnell very seldom mentioned them. his outlook was so much wider than is generally understood and his comment on members of the party was always, both before and after the split, calm, considerate, and as being impersonal to himself.
he regarded the catholic church's attitude towards him as being the logical outcome of her profession. he was not, even in the last months, when the priests' veto to their people turned the fight against him in ireland, bitter against them, even though i was. his strongest comment was:—"they have to obey their bishops, and they rome—and that's why the whole system of their interference in politics is so infernal!"
{288}
mr. gladstone sent the following letter to mr. morley on november 24th:—
... while clinging to the hope of communication from mr. parnell to whomsoever addressed, i thought it necessary, viewing the arrangements for the commencement of the session to-morrow, to acquaint mr. mccarthy with the conclusion at which, after using all the means of observation and reflection in my power, i had myself arrived. it was that, notwithstanding the splendid services rendered by mr. parnell to his country, his continuance at the present moment in the leadership would be productive of consequences disastrous in the highest degree to the cause of ireland.
i think i may be warranted in asking you so far to expand the conclusion i have given above as to add that the continuance i speak of would not only place many hearty and effective friends of the irish cause in a position of great embarrassment, but would render my retention of the leadership of the liberal party, based as it has been mainly upon the presentation of the irish cause, almost a nullity.
thus mr. gladstone signed the death-warrant of home rule for ireland.
on november 18th, 1890, there was a meeting of the national league in dublin. on the same day the following paragraph appeared in the london letter of the freeman's journal:—
"i have direct authority for stating that mr. parnell has not the remotest intention of abandoning either permanently or temporarily his position or his duties as leader of the irish parliamentary party. this may be implicitly accepted as mr. parnell's firm resolution, and perhaps by learning it in time the pigottist press may be spared the humiliation of indulging in a prolonged outburst of useless vilification. in arriving at this determination, i need not say that mr. parnell is actuated exclusively by a sense of his responsibility to the irish people, by whose suffrages he holds his public position, {289} and who alone have the power or the right to influence his public action. the wild, unscrupulous, and insincere shriekings of the pigottists on the platform and in the press can and will do nothing to alter mr. parnell's resolve."
parnell wrote to me from london after the meeting in committee room 15.
my own darling wifie,—i have received your letter through phyllis, and hope to return to brighton to-night per last train and tell you all the news. meanwhile i may say that i am exceedingly well, having had twelve hours' sleep last night.
the meeting adjourned to-day till to-morrow at 12 or 1 to consider an amendment moved by one of my side that gladstone, harcourt, and morley's views should be obtained as to their action on certain points in my manifesto.
your own king.
december 3, 1890.
the following letters speak for themselves:—
parnell to mr. william redmond.
my dear willie,—thanks very much for your kind letter, which is most consoling and encouraging. it did not require this fresh proof of your friendship to convince me that i have always justly relied upon you as one of the most single-minded and attached of my colleagues.—yours very sincerely,
chas. s. parnell.
parnell to dr. kenny.
morrison's hotel, dublin,
saturday.
my dear doctor,—i shall be very much obliged if you can call over to see me this afternoon, as i am not feeling very well, and oblige, yours very truly,
charles s. parnell.
don't mention that i am unwell to anybody, lest it should get into the newspapers.—-c. s. p.
to all his brothers and sisters, and, most of all, to his mother, parnell was most generous and affectionate, {290} and of that generosity and affectionate regard i have abundant proof.
one of the last letters he wrote was to his mother:—
i am weary, dear mother, of these troubles, weary unto death; but it is all in a good cause. with health and the assistance of my friends i am confident of the result. the statements my enemies have so often made regarding my relations with you are on a par with the endless calumnies they shoot upon me from behind every bush. let them pass. they will die of their own venom. it would indeed be dignifying them to notice their existence!
—————————
note.—mrs. parnell preserved a long series of letters from captain o'shea, dating from 1882 to 1891. the earlier ones are mainly concerned with tactical political movements, the most important of which are the conversations between o'shea and chamberlain, noted on page 197. those of the 1885 period deal chiefly with o'shea's grievance against parnell in connexion with the clare election. in one he complains of the "absolute baseness" of parnell's conduct. to all who spoke to him of it he says, "i replied, 'poor devil, he is obliged to allow himself to be kicked to the right or the left and look pleasant. but he has the consolation of having been well paid for the pain—￡40,000, the tribute of the priests and people of ireland!'" the reference was to the great irish subscription, headed by the archbishop of cashel, made in order to enable parnell to clear his estates from the mortgages which oppressed them.
the later letters, from the end of 1886 onwards, reveal the violent strain in the relations of captain and mrs. o'shea. beginning with a private letter to mr. stead, objecting to a statement in the pall mall gazette that parnell was staying on a visit with him, o'shea went on to write to his wife's solicitor, mr. h. pym, suggesting that she should, for her children's sake, "declare her renunciation of communication with" parnell, and then consulted chamberlain on his difficulties.
finally, as a catholic, he turned to cardinal manning for advice. his first interview with the head of the roman catholic {291} church in england was on october 19th, 1889, when the question of separation as against divorce was discussed. a long correspondence followed. manning was reluctant to agree to the proceedings for divorce, and delayed his decision till december 4th, when he laid down the course to be pursued, viz., (1) to collect all evidence in writing; (2) to lay it before the bishop of the diocese and ask for trial; (3) the latter would appoint a day for hearing; (4) judgment having been given, the case would go to rome with a full report of the proceedings. o'shea had already become impatient, and when, in another interview, manning described to him the constitution of the ecclesiastical court which would report to rome, he declared that he hesitated to approach a tribunal not having the right to administer the oath, and respectfully intimated his intention to take the case into the english divorce court.
the letters close in 1891 with a correspondence between captain o shea and the primate of ireland in which the former repudiates a suggestion made by the bishop of galway (dr. maccormack) in february of that year that "in 1886 after having failed to foist captain o'shea upon a neighbouring county, the then leader had the effrontery of prostituting the galway city constituency as a hush gift to o'shea." describing this as a "grotesquely false" libel, captain o'shea details the course of events before the election, his refusal to take the nationalist pledge, and his support by the then bishop of galway (dr. carr) and his clergy.
mr. healy, in a speech at kilkenny, had made an attack on captain o'shea on the same lines. o'shea was defended by lord stalbridge (formerly lord richard grosvenor) and also by chamberlain. the former related the part he played in the promotion of o'shea's candidature at liverpool as a supporter of mr. gladstone and the latter quoted a letter in which on january 22, 1896, he had urged o'shea to "get mr. parnell's exequatur for one of the vacant seats" in ireland, as "it is really the least he can do for you after all you have done for him." "surely," wrote chamberlain, "it must be to the interest of the irish party to keep open channels of communication with the liberal leaders." the point was clinched by a letter addressed by mr. timothy harrington to the freeman's {292} journal, stating that "mr. parnell, during the galway election in 1886, explained to his followers that he had only adopted captain o'shea as candidate for galway at the special request of mr. chamberlain.... the strongest confirmation was given to it immediately after the election, when captain o'shea followed mr. chamberlain out of the house of commons, and refused to vote on the home rule bill." on this aspect of the question, o'shea himself says, in his letter to the primate: "if i were such a man as dr. maccormack insinuates—a man who would buy a seat in parliament at the price of his honour—i need only have given a silent vote for mr. gladstone's home rule bill and my seat was as safe as any in ireland."
