by Simon Heffer
He visited Cork and Belfast too, canvassing all shades of opinion, but making few public appearances and briefing the press minimally on his private talks. Maxwell told Asquith on his arrival that, apart from two already scheduled and announced, there need be no further executions. He told his wife that with the exception of the Sheehy-Skeffington case ‘there have been fewer bad blunders than one might have expected with the soldiery for a whole week in exclusive charge.’86 But he added: ‘I am in despair for a Chief Secretary. If only Simon were available.’87 He told Samuel that while he had been surprised by how well matters were, ‘the giving in of arms, especially in Cork and some parts of the South, is not satisfactory.’88 On his return he visited his Oxfordshire near-neighbours, the Morrells, at Garsington, and told Lady Ottoline that ‘the poverty in Dublin was awful, and that this was the cause of much of the revolutionary feeling, more so he thought than the Sinn Féin movement, which he felt was more poetical than revolutionary.’89 Despite his time in Ireland, and his normal perceptiveness and intelligence, Asquith underestimated the appeal of the republicans – though saw the necessity of implementing Home Rule as swiftly as possible.
On the eve of Asquith’s departure for Dublin the Home Office announced the establishment of a Royal Commission into the causes of the Rising, chaired by Lord Hardinge of Penshurst. It held nine sessions, five in London and four in Dublin, and apart from when taking evidence about German sympathisers or police information, it met in public. Birrell was examined on 19 May, and did himself few favours, other than disclosing that a month before the Rising he had made an unsuccessful application to the War Office to send more soldiers to Dublin – something the War Office rapidly denied, albeit in a mealy-mouthed fashion. But Birrell’s remoteness from the crisis seemed confirmed by his ‘reading, at times in a somewhat rasping and dogmatic tone, and at others in his most detached mood, as though he were discussing something in another planet, a long type-written statement’ in which he analysed Sinn Féin as having started as a literary movement. He also felt that Carson’s entry into the coalition had signalled to the Irish that the prospects of Home Rule had gone.90 Even if he was mistaken about that, he had nonetheless allowed the belief to shape his conduct of policy.
On most days that Parliament sat immediately after the Rising, Irish members raised stories of Army atrocities, some of which had grains of truth – some more than a grain – and others that were fabricated, notably to do with troops being marched into peaceful areas and making wholesale arrests. Ginnell was one of the most persistent questioners: and put on the record on 24 May details of one of the Rising’s most damaging incidents. He asked the government about:
the number and nature of the wounds which James Connolly when he surrendered was found to have sustained; whether the military authorities first decided that he should not be tried until his wounds were healed; whether on the surgeon reporting that Mr Connolly was dying of his wounds they tried him; whether, being too ill to walk to or stand for his execution, he had to be carried on a stretcher to the place of execution, propped up in a chair there, and shot in that condition; and if he will give the date and place of any precedent for the summary execution of a military prisoner dying of his wounds?91
Tennant, the under-secretary, could not answer. Ginnell alleged that Mac Diarmada had been left in his cell at night, including before his execution, without a bed or a pillow, and had had to wrap a boot in one of his two thin blankets, to rest his head upon: and had been denied a priest. Tennant could not answer that either. The next day Asquith, whom Nationalist leaders had found stricken with indecision, made what Scott called a ‘halting’ Commons statement about the restoration of civil government in Ireland.92 He said that ‘martial law is continued as a precautionary measure. We hope that its disappearance will be speedy and complete.’93 His only purpose in visiting Ireland had been to determine the truth. He had not, though, grasped the speed at which public opinion there was moving against Britain: he spoke of ‘the strength and depth, and I might almost say I think without exaggeration the universality, of the feeling in Ireland that we have now a unique opportunity for a new departure for the settlement of outstanding problems, and for a joint and combined effort to obtain agreement as to the way in which the government of Ireland is for the future to be carried on.’94
He announced that Lloyd George, ‘at the unanimous request of his colleagues’, would mediate between Carson and Redmond or, rather, their supporters.95 Although Lloyd George had not wished to be chief secretary, an ad hoc role such as this, acquired by acclaim, was just the sort of thing to appeal to his sense of himself, his vanity and his showmanship. Asquith pleaded with MPs to stop discussing Ireland, so damaging was the effect of rumours and so harmful were they to the chances of a settlement. Redmond called silence a ‘severe test’, but in the interests of unity said he would abide by it. Carson agreed, reminding the House there was also ‘a War going on, in which your country is involved.’96 Some Nationalists believed Asquith was afraid to confront Carson, and that Redmond was reluctant to persuade him to do so. Dillon, increasingly regarded as more influential than Redmond, was impressed that Asquith had visited Ireland, where he had ‘run a real risk of his life’.97 Unlike Lloyd George, who would retreat to Walton Heath for fear of air raids, physical courage was not a quality Asquith lacked.
VI
Gwynne saw Lloyd George on 30 May and told him that ‘no Unionist, Irish or British, would accept Home Rule during the war.’ The same day, Ginnell attacked Tennant again about Connolly’s execution. Tennant hardly improved matters by saying Connolly had been wounded ‘just above the instep’ and, although he could not walk, there were no grounds to delay his execution. He accused Ginnell of ‘inaccuracy and exaggeration’.98 Two days later, when news from Jutland suggested a British naval defeat, Sinn Féin supporters marched through Cork in exultation. But in Ulster, a renewed prospect of Home Rule was regarded as a deep betrayal of Ulstermen at the front, who were not in Ireland to defend their interests. Worse, the slowness and secrecy with which the negotiation entrusted to Lloyd George proceeded, the more a society riven by rumour-mongering was destabilised. Lloyd George would routinely exceed his powers, starting with a letter to Carson on 29 May saying ‘we must make it clear that at the end of the provisional period Ulster does not, whether she wills it or not, merge in the rest of Ireland.’99 Carson took that to mean a promise to make Ulster’s exclusion permanent: it is hard to see how else to interpret it, even though in August 1914, when the Home Rule Act was put into suspension, Asquith had been clear that any exclusion would be reviewed. Lloyd George had allowed himself to become over-mighty with arrogance, and with Asquith unable to rein him in any more, accidents such as this would happen.
Dillon warned Asquith on 1 June about how much and how quickly matters had changed in Ireland:
Remember this: It is quite a common thing for one brother to be in this Sinn Féin movement and for all the other members of the family to be strong supporters of the hon and learned Member for Waterford [Redmond] … Families are divided, and I have come across several cases myself where one young man in a family has gone over to the Sinn Féin Volunteers much against the will of all the rest of the family … by holding these men in prison, and by other methods to which I will not allude, [you are] manufacturing Sinn Féiners, or, at all events, enemies of the Government, by the thousand.100
Similarly, T. P. O’Connor told Scott on 7 June that ‘before the executions 99 per cent of nationalist Ireland was Redmondite; since the executions 99 per cent is Sinn Féin.’101 That was an exaggeration: because Redmond and his party had supported the war, and the war had become increasingly unpopular in Ireland, the Nationalists’ popularity was falling before the Rising. However, the executions and martial law would make it far harder to get the Nationalist community to accept the deal Carson and Redmond (to each of whom Lloyd George had told different things) were trying to sell. The press was briefed that Nationalist sentiment was th
e main obstacle.
For most Nationalists Home Rule had to be for the whole of Ireland, not just twenty-six counties: though O’Connor saw that a deal for all but six Ulster counties would be one the rest of Ireland should accept, and Redmond agreed. The press published details of Lloyd George’s proposals on 12 June: the Home Rule Act would come into immediate operation; but after an Amending Act it would apply only for the duration of the war and briefly after it; all Irish MPs would sit at Westminster for that period; six Ulster counties would be governed from London during that period; an Imperial Conference including all Dominions would convene after the war to discuss the future governance of the Empire, including Ireland; after which a permanent settlement would be made.
Lloyd George told Riddell that Asquith had returned from Ireland with ‘no plan and he funked the task of endeavouring to make a settlement’.102 However, it would become a moot point whether having no plan, but intending after great consideration to devise one, was worse than having a plan that risked being deemed unworkable. Carson was happy with Lloyd George’s idea, not just because of Ulster’s exclusion, but also because he saw no obligation to include the six counties in a Home Rule state after the war. Law, while disliking Home Rule, saw its inevitability. Lansdowne, though, refused to accept the scheme, having told Long on 11 June that it was ‘morally wrong and wrong politically’ – sentiments Long passed on to Lloyd George.103 On 22 June eighty Unionist MPs demanded ‘insurance of sufficient protection for southern Unionists; guarantees that Home Rule would not endanger the war effort, and the permanent exclusion of the designated counties.’104 Redmond had to struggle for the support of his grass roots, for the Catholic Church would not forgive the Nationalists for the isolation they threatened to impose on northern Catholics, which became an important factor in its growing support for republicanism. Nonetheless, a meeting of Nationalists in Ulster agreed by a majority of two to one on 23 June to accept exclusion as suggested by Lloyd George.
The Earl of Selborne, the minister of agriculture, took exception to the absence of cabinet consultation: he told Long that ‘there can be no possible justification of the Prime Minister’s conduct to us.’105 He saw Lloyd George acting as a plenipotentiary, formulating policy as he went along, rather than as a representative. Two cabinet meetings took place on 24 June, with continued disagreement between a small number of hard-core Unionists and Liberals, to such a degree that Lansdowne thought the government would break up. He was, however, very much in a minority: Law, Balfour and even Carson all favoured an immediate deal, as did the Unionist press, apart from the Morning Post. The conversion of Balfour – ‘Bloody Balfour’ of the 1880s – to the cause of Home Rule shocked even some Unionist colleagues used to his taking the line of least resistance. Lloyd George told O’Connor that Balfour had fought for the plan to grant immediate Home Rule ‘as if he had been a home ruler all his life.’106 The Tory grandee had been convinced by what he had heard about the helpful effect on American opinion if Home Rule were granted. Asquith resorted to what would become a typical device in the last phase of his leadership, and appointed a cabinet subcommittee to discuss the problem. Lansdowne, for his part, feared he would have to resign. Also on 24 June a paper from Maxwell was circulated to the cabinet, warning ministers that although most rebel leaders were dead the cult of their memory was intense, and that ‘the moment new leaders are found it will become dangerous … there is no doubt there is a great recrudescence of Sinn Féinism.’107
Selborne resigned on 25 June. He had not imagined Home Rule for twenty-six counties would be offered immediately; he believed that possibility had been put in abeyance in August 1914, and that the discussion would be resumed after the war. On that basis he had participated in the act of collective responsibility that led to Lloyd George’s mission; but when he heard Lloyd George had intimated that implementation would be immediate, he not only told Asquith he was resigning, but emphasised to both sides in the negotiations that he dissented from the cabinet line. He claimed two days later in the Lords that he and those who thought like him had been duped. ‘Mr Birrell never informed us that the condition of affairs in Ireland had grown worse, nor did private information reach us from other sources. Therefore we knew nothing about the drilling and manœuvring, and all those matters which were known to other people, and consequently the rebellion took us by surprise.’108
He added: ‘Ireland is in a gravely disturbed condition, and in my judgment, to inaugurate a constitutional change of such magnitude during the war would be more perilous than any other course open to us.’109 Yet on 26 June, as Casement’s trial began in the High Court – he had eventually found lawyers to defend him after several turned the case down – the Nationalists of the rest of Ireland joined Ulster’s in assenting to the proposals, just as a deputation of Unionists from the three excluded Ulster counties and the other three provinces met Asquith and Lloyd George and urged them to reflect that the proposed settlement would cause ‘the Sinn Féin movement themselves [to] usurp the power of government in Ireland.’110
The lack of transparency about what was actually being negotiated caused huge irritation. The cabinet’s Unionists were especially annoyed by the secrecy around the negotiations, so when a meeting scheduled for 28 June to discuss Ireland was postponed until the following week, ostensibly so that Asquith could give further consideration to the situation and Law could consult more widely, frustration deepened. The failure of the cabinet to unite gave further ammunition to those who wanted the decision-making body for the war drastically reduced in size. On 29 June the Marquess of Salisbury, agitated by what Selborne had said in his resignation statement, demanded in the Lords that the government publish details of the proposals, and the report of Hardinge’s inquiry. He was vexed that two versions of the proposals were in circulation – one leaked to the press, and another that Redmond had described to his colleagues on 12 June. The press had been told that the six mainly Protestant counties in Ulster could opt in or out of Home Rule as they pleased; Redmond, however, had said that any opt-out would merely be for the duration of the war. This was not Carson’s interpretation: he believed the plan allowed permanent exclusion of the six Ulster counties.
Salisbury asked on what authority Lloyd George had made the proposals: because both sets suggested immediate implementation of the 1914 Act with some form of amendment, contrary to what Selborne said had been agreed in cabinet. He quoted Redmond saying that Lloyd George had acted ‘on his own responsibility’.111 Redmond, though, assumed these were government proposals: but were they, given what Selborne had said? Salisbury noted there had been no repression in Ireland since August 1914, and the rebellion had come ‘like a thunderclap’.112 He was outraged that a new form of Irish government should be contemplated while the report of the inquiry into the rebellion had still not been published – even though it was known to be complete – and when the country was still in such turmoil.
Salisbury asserted that:
every day since that rebellion was suppressed things have grown worse there. We want to know – and, after all, the public has a right to know – how much worse they have grown. What is the state of opinion in Ireland? We know that the few misguided men whom it was necessary to execute as leaders of the rebellion – extraordinarily few compared to the number of innocent persons on the other side who were shot – have excited an enormous amount of sympathy in Ireland. They have been styled martyrs, not merely by the ordinary people, but, I believe in more than one case, by the Roman Catholic hierarchy, men who have an enormous influence on public opinion in Ireland.113
Shrewdly, Salisbury remarked that in three-quarters of Ireland Sinn Féin now predominated, and its adherents were unhappy with the proposals ‘whichever edition of them is correct’, and had become ‘enemies’ of Britain; any elections to form a government for Ireland would return more members friendly to Germany than to Britain.
Crewe told Salisbury there was ‘no public advantage’ in disclosing the details he wish
ed.114 He skated over the question of Lloyd George’s acting on his own initiative by claiming that whatever proposals were made they had been designed ‘with and through’ Carson and Redmond.115 He promised Hardinge’s report would be published, and that nothing would happen until Parliament had voted on it. Crewe refused to say how bad matters were in Connaught, Munster and Leinster: ‘It has never been the custom to publish the confidential reports received from the Police authorities in different parts of Ireland, and I cannot imagine that any departure from that practice, which has proved in the past to be salutary, is likely to be engaged in now.’116
As the argument continued in the Lords the jury in the Casement trial, after retiring for eighty-three minutes, returned a verdict of guilty on the charge of treason. Before sentence, Casement delivered a long speech – having rejected a draft written for him by George Bernard Shaw – that argued the philosophy behind the idea of treason had changed greatly since the statute of 1351: he rejected the notion that ‘that constitutional phantom, “the King”, can still dig up from the dungeons and torture chambers of the Dark Ages a law that takes a man’s life and limb for an exercise of conscience.’117 He claimed this relic of ‘the brutality of the 14th century’ could not apply to Ireland; that he had been tried in a foreign court, not by a jury of his peers; and would accept only a verdict reached by Irishmen in an Irish court. And he remarked that Sir F. E. Smith, KC, MP, prosecuting him as Attorney General, had supported those in Ulster who opposed the policy of the government and of Parliament to the point of backing armed rebels, and yet had not been put on trial himself. ‘The difference between us,’ he said, ‘was that the Unionist champions chose a path they felt would lead to the Woolsack, while I went a road I knew must lead to the dock.’