Charles Stewart Parnell

“ He belonged to the family of Parnell the poet, the friend of Swift and Pope, and he afterwards became the first Lord Congleton, taking his title from that part of Cheshire where the poet and his ancestors had lived. In years, much later years, that belonged to our own times another member of the Parnell family made for himself a conspicuous place in the House of Commons and in Imperial politics, the late Charles Stewart Parnell, the famous leader of the Irish National party. Sir Henry {111} Parnell carried his motion by a majority of twenty-nine in the House of Commons. ”

“ Oft times were his enemies gibing and jeering,
But ’twas all one to Bill, their groaning or cheering;
For praise or for blame he but little did care,
So long as he filled the Prime Minister’s chair.
And yet, but to see how strangely things happen!
As he chopped away, bowing and smiling as well,
He was ply’d by an Irishman, caught by his blarney,
One known by the name of Charles Stewart Parnell.
And would this Parnell but keep him in power,
He’d banish the clouds that o’er Erin did lower,
Defying old Salisbury, and “Randy” so glib,
E’en though it would cost him full many a fib.
Truth. July 15. ”

“ Parnell's political life was one single-minded ambition for the good of his country. He was no place or popularity hunter. Stung to the quick in early manhood by the awful suffering of the Irish peasantry and by the callous indifference of the English Government, he, with all the pure chivalry of youth, vowed himself to their service, and, so far as in him lay, to the forcing of the governing country to a better fulfilment of her responsibilities. In the course of years the gaining of Home Rule for Ireland became for him the only solution of the problem. ”

“ In the early morning half-light, when the day was just beginning to break, we loved to watch drowsy London rubbing the sleep from her eyes, hastening her labouring sons upon their way to ease the later waking of their luxurious brothers. Parnell was always interested in manual labourers; he loved to watch them at work, and he liked to talk to them of their work and of their homes. A man with a hammer or a pick-axe was almost an irresistible attraction to him, and he would often get me to stand and watch the men engaged on a road or harbour work. ”

“ My lover was the leader of a nation in revolt, and, as I could, I helped him as "King's Messenger" to the Government in office. It has been erroneously said by some of the Irish Party that I "inspired" certain measures of his, and biased him in various ways politically. Those who have said so did not know the man, for Parnell was before all a statesman; absolutely convinced of his policy and of his ability to carry that policy to its logical conclusion. Self-reliant and far-seeing, the master of his own mind. ”

“ Parnell is so much an Englishman in his coldness and reserve?"
"He is a paradox, Mr. Gladstone, the enigma of genius herself, a volcano capped with snow. Englishman himself, at least he is descended from Englishmen, he hates England and the English and does not understand them; he loves Ireland and her people through and through, {221} understands them absolutely, and is in nature as apart and aloof from the Irish nature as you are yourself." ”

“ We had a long talk about Parnell and about politics—chiefly, of course, as referring to Ireland. He was extremely agreeable and courteous, and I remember very well the great charm of manner he possessed, a charm that struck me afresh at each subsequent meeting. A natural charm and, no doubt, a natural insincerity, but one which is such an immense asset in the career of a great man: that of making others believe—or wish to believe—that they are on the same plane of intellect and diplomacy as himself! ”

“ Parnell at liberty was a disturbing force, and the culminating embarrassment of English government in Ireland, but Parnell in prison had become merely a concentrated embarrassment in that there was now no governmental possibility of dealing with the reactionary spirit he had let loose in Ireland—a spirit that was at least better controllable as a weapon in Parnell's hand than as the scattered and absolutely irresponsible fulminations, unreasoning and motiveless, of lawless desperadoes. ”

“ Parnell had a great love of sea-storms, and when there {240} was a gale blowing from the west, and rough weather assured, he loved to get me out to Birling Gap to listen to the roar of the sea and the screaming of the wind as it blew around us, nearly carrying us off our feet. He would tie his coat about me, and hold me firmly against the wind as it tore about us, and while we gazed out at the raging waves he would exclaim: "Isn't this glorious, my Queen? Isn't it alive?" ”

“ So I made him agree to my staying in my sitting-room, where from the open window I could hear for miles the regular trotting of the cab-horse bringing him home.
He only stipulated that I should not go out along the roads to meet him at night. In March, 1887, I thought my King was looking tired and worried. There had been various annoying happenings owing to new reports of his life at Eltham having been put about. I had had unpleasant letters from Willie, and the latter and I were not now on speaking terms. With this and his hard work Parnell was looking fagged and worn. ”

“ Parnell wrote to me, and again we asked him to dinner, letting him name his own date. We thought he would like a quiet dinner, and invited only my sister, Mrs. Steele, my nephew, Sir Matthew Wood, Mr. Justin McCarthy, and a couple of others whose names I forget. On receiving his reply accepting the invitation for the following Friday, we engaged a box at the Gaiety Theatre—where Marion Hood was acting (for whom I had a great admiration) —as we thought it would be a relief to the "Leader" to get away from politics for once. ”

“ Parnell rented some stables fairly near my house for his horses, and took much interest in their welfare. He was not a man who had very much knowledge of horses, but he was a fine horseman, and on his hunter President, a beautiful horse of sixteen hands and a weight-carrier, {232} he looked remarkably well. He took a scientific interest in the shoeing of the horses and, to the great annoyance of his grooms, would constantly try new methods of shoeing in order to deaden the "jar" of the contact of the road. ”

“ So I had to keep a constantly blooming company of white roses in my conservatory to provide a buttonhole of ceremony on his speech days, or on other occasions when I wished him to look particularly well. Sometimes we would drive out miles into the country. Keston Common was a favourite resort of ours, and, as we rarely took a servant with us, we would either put up the horse I drove (Dictator, given to me by Mr. Parnell) at some inn, or tie him to a tree while we wandered about or sat under the trees talking. ”

“ Mr. Parnell had been feeling low and depressed all through the summer of this year, and towards the autumn I became very much worried about his lassitude and general feeling of illness. I tried different diets without effect, and, thinking it might be better for him to go straight to bed after "the House," I took a house in London for him and settled him there, but he could not bear the loneliness and came back to Eltham as usual after a few nights. In November he became worse, and I insisted {245} upon his consulting a doctor, suggesting Sir Henry Thompson, as I had heard he was very clever. ”

“ We cannot avoid speculating what would have happened had he gone to Ireland. He had taken a leading part in the release of Parnell; would that have saved him—since the Phoenix Park murderers did not intend to kill Lord Frederick? And if Mr. Chamberlain had been killed in May, 1882, what other course might British politics have taken? Would Tariff Reform ever have been a Tory election cry? Would there have been no Boer War? Would the Tories not have enjoyed that long term of office which for years kept the question of Home Rule in abeyance? ”

“ The hard, flint-like eyes softened a little in the eagle face as the G.O.M. answered with a little sigh: "I have much sympathy with his ambitions for Ireland, Mrs. O'Shea. His is a curious personality; you are right, I think—yes, a paradox indeed, but a wonderful man!"
At the end of June, 1883, Parnell went over to conduct Mr. Healy's election at Monaghan (an Ulster stronghold) , for which division he was returned a month after he had quitted Richmond Prison.
He immediately afterwards (on July 4) attended the Cork banquet given in his honour. ”

“ He could look as fierce as an old eagle on occasion, however, and had fought, in his day, more duels than he could remember. A fine specimen of the old type of Irishman.
When he came down to Eltham to see us, Willie and I took him over to Greenwich and gave him a fish dinner. We sat late into the night talking of Irish affairs, and The O'Gorman Mahon said to me, "If you meet Parnell, Mrs. O'Shea, be good to him. His begging expedition to America has about finished him, and I don't believe he'll last the session out." ”

“ No one could flatter Parnell, neither could anyone humiliate him. "What I am, I am, what I am not I cannot be," was his summing up of his own and of every other man's personality.
His cold, scientific way of sorting out and labelling his own Party at first made me hesitatingly complain, "But, after all, they are human beings!" and his characteristic answer was "In politics, as in war, there are no men, only weapons." ”

“ Parnell undoubtedly put it before certain members of the Irish Party instead of one drafted by his own hand. He told me afterwards that they looked "absolutely ill" when they saw my handwriting, so he would not withdraw it in favour of his own—till later.
I was sitting on the doorstep of our new house one day, idly watching Parnell build a bank that was to be turfed over to keep us from prying eyes, when he stopped suddenly and, leaning on his spade, said: "I am a poet! And descended from the poet, Thomas Parnell."
"Not a poet," I answered gently, "even though descended from one." ”

“ Parnell had his hand crushed in some machinery at his Arklow quarries, she dressed the injured fingers with cobwebs from the cellar walls. To my astonishment he asked for cobwebs at Eltham once, when he had cut his finger, to "wrap it in." My children, with delighted interest, produced cobwebs (and spiders) from the cellar, and I had the greatest difficulty in preventing a "cure" so likely to produce blood-poisoning. He accepted the peasant lore of Ireland with the simplicity of a child, and I still remember his doubtful "Is that so?" ”

“ His code of honour forbade him to bring up a wrong of private life against a public man, and he had the subtle love of truth that dares to use it as the shield of expediency.
Physically Parnell was so much afraid of pain and ill-health that he suffered in every little indisposition and hurt far more than others of less highly strung and sensitive temperament. He had such a horror of death that it was only by the exercise of the greatest self-control that he could endure the knowledge or sight of it ”

“ No one man could deal charitably with all these poor people and live, and as time went on Mr. Parnell's visits became necessarily shorter, for the demands were so many, and the poverty so great, that he could not carry the burden and continue the political life necessary to their alleviation. He told me that he despaired of ever having a penny in his pocket when he took me there, as he always hoped to do.
He was very fond of the old woman he kept at {210} Avondale in charge of the house, and who attended to his few needs when he was there ”

“ Parnell met Mr. and Mrs. Gladstone at Mrs. Sydney Buxton's [5] "at home." {266} Almost the only comment, when he got home was: "That's over; thank goodness!"
On May 28th, 1889, Sir Charles and Lady Russell gave a reception in honour of the hero of the fight. Parnell hated these affairs, but, as I pointed out to him, it would be very sad if all those people assembled to meet him and he was not there. ”

“ Parnell that he was introducing lawlessness into my household. He answered, "Leave it to me," and when Mary appeared again he said gently to her, "Mary, that is a magnificent locket, and I see you are kind enough to wear my portrait in it. Mrs. O'Shea tells me that Ellen has bought one also, but I just want you and Ellen not to wear them outside like that, for Mrs. O'Shea lets me come down here for a rest, and if people know I'm here I shall be worried to death with politics and people calling." ”

“ I had urged my children and his work; but he answered me: "For good or ill, I am your husband, your lover, your children, your all. And I will give my life to Ireland, but to you I give my love, whether it be your heaven or your hell. It is destiny. When I first looked into your eyes I knew."
When Willie arrived so suddenly at Eltham Mr. Parnell was not there, but Willie went into his room, and finding his portmanteau, sent it to London, and left my house, declaring he would challenge Parnell to fight a duel and would shoot him. ”

“ On that day I did not give Parnell the Times opened as usual for his glance over the political reports while he breakfasted. He asked for it, but I wanted him to finish his breakfast first, and replied: "The Times is unusually stodgy; do eat your breakfast first."
He said he must finish a bit of assaying he had left over-night before going to London, and would not have time for papers afterwards, so I told him of the letters, and propped the Times against the teapot as usual. ”