Parnell Dies at Brighton (1891)

Chapter XXVIII*

Parnell dies at Brighton *(1891)

Parnell’s campaign against the Party lasted ten months. His marriage repelled his followers, some of whom had believed him guiltless. Tales of desertion constantly reached the ex-leader. The last and saddest letter he got before his death was from James O’Kelly, M.P., announcing that he could no longer stand by him. Henry Campbell told me this.

Parnell died on Tuesday, 6th October, 1891, at Brighton, ten months after his deposition. He had spoken at Creggs, Co. Roscommon, on the 27th September, on the previous Sunday week. He devoted his last address to an attack on Messrs. Dillon and O’Brien, who had tried to save him from himself.

We were all sad when he passed away. Yet in Grattan’s phrase, “the unbribed intellect of Ireland was against him.”

Parnell feared Fridays, and dreaded Octobers. His personality has been often limned. The mischief he wrought after the Split cannot dim admiration for his powers. During the debates in Room 15 he tried twice to be a patriot, and promised to reconsider his position. Then he retreated to Brighton, and returned to Westminster after a night there, adamant in his determination to hold fast. A steely gaze shone from his eyes, but till the last day of the debates, when rough epithets were hurtling, one could always (as the French say) “discern the gentleman at a league.” His old skill, energy, unscrupulousness and resource reburned in his frame. Genius shone like the upcast flame from an expiring candle.

In conflict with his Party he achieved his earlier stature, and displayed an astuteness, resolution and courage greater than he had ever shown against the British.

His funeral was a great affair. The crowd looked so resolute that Sir Garnet Wolseley (the Irish Commander-in-Chief) declared it was “the only crowd he was ever afraid of.”

The emotion caused by Parnell’s death was deep. The invention that his last words were, “Give my love to my colleagues and the Irish people,” was mere “propaganda.” Irish-Americans subscribed to erect a statue in Dublin to him.

He had long before his death ceased to be an effective force, and during the debates on his deposition every expedient was exhausted by opponents to retain him as a figure-head.

Handsome, dignified, and emotionless, he never unduly pressed his view against that of his colleagues. I travelled with him in America, and afterwards worked beside him in Parliament for 10 years. Nothing in his personal dealings savoured of arrogance.

His range of knowledge - outside engineering and, perhaps, astronomy - was small. He knew no history, and no theology. He confided to me, as we walked after a late sitting past the Seven Dials, in 1878, that his religious views trended towards those of an uncle who was a “Plymouth Brother.” Ignorant as I was of the tenets of that creed, I asked him to enlighten me, but he could not do so. He said *Paley’s Evidences of Christianity *upset his faith.

His superstitions were ingrained. These he derived from his mother. T. D. Sullivan told me that when he, as Lord Mayor, escorted that lady to Harcourt Street railway station, Dublin, to catch a train for Rathdrum, she, seeing the number of the carriage was 39, sprang out, crying, “I won’t go in this!

“What’s wrong, Mrs. Parnell? ” Mr. Sullivan asked.

“The number! It’s unlucky.”

T.D. protested he never heard that 39 was unlucky. She pontificated, “Thirteen or any multiple of it.” There was no other first-class carriage on the train, so she travelled third-class.

Logarithms would be needed to defeat the “13” spell.

Until shortly before the Galway election of 1886 my relations with Parnell were friendly.

On the birth of my first child, he called at the office of *United Ireland *to ask William O’Brien how my writings were paid for. Being told £2 a week, he blazed out, “That’s not enough! It should be doubled.” Parnell had been presented with a cheque for £40,000 the day before.

O’Brien, who worked on starvation pay, and took the risks of jail besides, as “bonus,” thought my “wad” stout enough. Yet he obediently and cheerily cashed out to me an extra pound a week.

After Parnell’s death, a reporter of the *Freeman *published a story that during the Kilkenny election I confided to him my intention to “drive Parnell to his grave, or to a lunatic asylum.” I did not contradict the lie, and of this he publicly complained. A bomb was laid and exploded in the office of the *National Press *soon after the funeral,

I wrote my brother:

Dublin,

29*th October, *1891.

“The dynamite outrage on the *National Press *makes me regret the temper the attempt displays.

Naturally, I feel sorry that people should exhibit political misjudgment, but they have been deceived, and I am unable to feel bitterness towards the dupes.

If they got a chance it would go hard with me, but “threatened men live long.” I have had a policeman near my house for a long time - a testimonial to the sagacity of Dublin patriotism!

I never return home late at night alone. In a few months feeling will abate, and we must live through it or die in it, as the case may be, according to arrangements.

I have nothing to reproach myself with in politics, either since or before this crisis, and while appreciating the situation, I am not perturbed. If the Cork election goes well, as I believe it will, that must let out a lot of inflammation.”

Davitt made this unexpected comment on the bomb explosion:

Ballybrack,***

**28th October, *1891.

“Dear Mr. Healy, -

“I am very glad you were not harmed by the Boland bomb. In my opinion it was this Dublin edition of Red Jim MacDermott who planned, if he did not carry out, the devilish design.”

Yours very truly,

Michael Davitt.

Secret Service funds were responsible for the outrage.

Boland had previously come to the office of the *National Press *on a Sunday night with P. N. Fitzgerald to threaten me with revolvers after a meeting which Parnell addressed in the Phoenix Park. When Boland died, friends asked me to persuade the late Archbishop of Dublin to place his sons in an orphanage. This was done, and the late Harry Boland, killed at Skerries in 1922, may have been one of them.

The *Freeman *treated the explosion jestingly and said it was due to an escape of gas, but I was not afterwards allowed by the police to go home at night without a cohort of protectors. The escort caused some inconvenience, but I consoled myself with a story which Sam Hussey, late agent of Lord Kenmare, related.

Going on a Sunday to church in Kerry with some English friends, Sam complained to the serjeant that his *posse *kept too close, as they could hear the conversation. The serjeant’s reply was, “Oh, sir, it’s easy for you to complain, but if you were shot I’d be disrated.”

No hint of Parnell’s illness had been allowed to leak out, and the news of his death caused a world-wide shock. The *Freeman *immediately turned round and changed its tone, but the fierce spirit it had aroused in Ireland could not be abated by a commercial conversion.”

I wrote Maurice:

Dublin,

31st October, 1891.

“Young Gray has been telling the priests that he is coming round on “conscientious grounds.” Sexton got a promise that the *Freeman *would be less blackguardly from to-day. Yet its evening sheet has two bits of abuse.

Sexton did his best in a weak way for us, but if he had strongly stood by us, and said we would not consent at any price to what was proposed, we should have carried our point.

Munroe’s Paris Bank has refused without a legal decision to let us have the money, and I shall have to return to France shortly.”

To quell my father’s fears I wrote:

Dublin,

14th November, 1891.”

There is no need to be apprehensive about me. If lying and threats could harm me I should be decomposed long since. My will is made, and life is not so pleasant that I hold it dearly. At the same time I run no risks needlessly, and don’t intend to run any. A police inspector called on Wednesday to know what the Force could do for my comfort! I have always spoken well in Parliament (as they deserved) of the D.M.P., and they are well inclined, and watch my house *day and night. *Also T.D.S.’s, O’Brien’s and Dillon’s. It is, as we used to say long ago, “the fun of Cork” to see us so carefully protected. I never go home at night by myself, but even when with others at 2 or 3 a.m. we have a squad of police at our heels all the way. I have given up going in to the *Press *office at night, and remain in the bosom of my family. In a few months the thing will pass away, as all scares pass away, and it may be that those who have informed the police of our danger are merely “stuffing” them to earn the Saxon shilling. Erina [my wife] is not uneasy. Someone hissed her the other day in O’Connell Street, of which she was quite proud.

My chief anxiety is the effect of outrages on English electors, but the victory in Devon to-day raises my spirits. If Dorset goes right our minds may be easy. T.D.S. is working away there. For myself, I never had an uneasy feeling or a reproach of mind that I acted otherwise than rightly. I would not be on the other side for the amount of the National Debt.

I may have to go to Paris soon, as Munroe won’t pay without a legal decision, and we must commence a suit.”

In spite of the undiscerning attitude of the Dublin populace, we had strong friends everywhere throughout the country. I informed Maurice:

Dublin,

18th November, 1891.

“I have a letter from the Bishop of Kilmore [Cavan], blaming whoever allowed the *Freeman *to get the publication of the lists of subscriptions for the Pope, and saying he would be no party to the collection if this was again tolerated.

We had a battle-royal in the Committee of the Party on Friday, and had reluctantly to accept a compromise whereby the *Freeman *should get the heads of the subscription, and that the details should be published in the *National Press. *Dillon and O’Brien will yet kill the *National Press, *although they declare that if they could be convinced that this would be the result of their proceedings they would not take the *Freeman *side.

The majority of the Party are not disposed to elect Dillon chairman, so McCarthy will not be disturbed.

A police-inspector called on me last week and warned me I was in danger of attack. Boland (one of Jenkinson’s spies) has returned from New York, and attacked Davitt yesterday.

He is a brother of the Dubliner who wrote me and visited the *National Press *with P. N. Fitzgerald to threaten me with a revolver. Parnell sent him (after his Phoenix Park meeting) to try to intimidate me.

A few weeks after Parnell’s death I went to Paris to block Mrs. O’Shea’s claim to the funds there. John Barry and Reynolds (M.P. ‘s) came with me.

To my wife I wrote:

Hotel Binda, Paris,

29*th November, *1891.

“I spent yesterday with Munroe’s lawyers, morning and evening, and Munroe would apparently like us to have his counsel as ours. I suspect something in this idea. To-day I breakfasted with the Raffalovitchs, and they say that having made inquiries, they think that the house is a respectable one, and that there is no fear of the funds with them. I will to-morrow instruct the lawyers whom the Raffalovitchs recommend, and if I can get settled with them, and they can launch the process on Tuesday, I would not remain here. It is tiresome all these interviews without result except the improvement of my French. I am now able to understand everything that is said in the conversations, and follow them without difficulty, and if I had a week of this kind I could give orders like Napoleon. I have seen little of Barry and Reynolds, and to-morrow at 9.30 a.m. I must be out to see my new avocat. I may later be able to lecture on French jurisprudence!

The Raffalovitchs are of opinion that it would be better to compromise matters with the Parnellites. The old man said that, if we had to give them £5,000, it would be better than a suit in the French courts, and that in no case could we get the money sooner than in two or three years if the business was formally contested.

I doubt that Kitty will find funds for this purpose, although she has instructed a lawyer here, and I saw a further letter from her to Munroe.”

Mrs. O’Shea’s book on Parnell, published in 1914, alleges no grounds for her claim to the Paris funds. After her death, letters to her from Gladstone were offered to the *Evening Standard *for a thousand pounds, but the offer was declined. She visited Gladstone occasionally, and there was no concealment of the fact. Her book contains a telegram to her from Captain O’Shea of the 2nd March, 1885: “If you see Gladstone to-day,” etc. (page 205); and another of the 1st May, 1885: “If you had not been to see Mr. G. to-day” (page 209), etc. when Gladstone wrote her from Hawarden, the envelopes were not in his writing (lest the local postmaster should know from whom they came), whereas those from London were addressed by himself.

I wonder whether, if I had not taken trouble to prevent the lady annexing the money, harm to Ireland would have arisen. What became of it has not been made known in the 35 years which have flown. Others garnered where they had not sown, but it all went, I doubt not, towards legitimate political or agrarian purposes under John Dillon’s direction.

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