Chapter II (2)

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.