Enigma

by Paul Bew

  The action of the Fenians in joining ‘the constitutional movement’ was quite honest . . . and they had no arrière pensée of any sort.

  PARNELL, AT THE SPECIAL COMMISSION, 1889 (SPEC. COMM. PROC., VII, 88)

  1

  The Irish political scene in the mid-1870s was dominated by Isaac Butt’s Home Rule League, which had been formed in 1873. Butt and the majority of his followers devoted their energies to an unfailingly polite and almost totally ineffective parliamentary campaign to advance the Irish case for a moderate degree of self-government. Whatever his reservations about this line of action, Parnell, on deciding to enter politics in the nationalist interest, had little choice but to attempt to become a Home Rule MP. As we have seen, his initial attempt to enter parliament ended in failure; in 1875, however, he won a seat for Meath, filling the vacancy created by the death of John Martin, brother-in-law of the militant nationalist polemicist John Mitchel. This connection with the radical wing of Young Ireland was to be of some significance in Parnell’s career.

  Parnell clearly felt it was necessary to appeal to separatist opinion which had found expression when the former Young Irelander, John Mitchel, was twice elected for Tipperary on the eve of his death earlier in the year. Mitchel was undeniably an extremist who preached that British policy during the Famine had been deliberate genocide and that Britain would never grant any genuine concessions towards to Ireland. But in spite of this and of his many anti-modernist passions such as support for slavery, many nationalists, not all of them physical-force supporters, felt Mitchel represented an entirely admirable purity of principle and voiced in the most uncompromising terms the widely felt resentment of the majority of the Irish population towards the existing regime. Sensibly enough, in view of his perception, Parnell earlier in the year had publicly sent a cheque of £25 towards Mitchel’s election expenses. Indeed, Parnell’s own selection for Meath was aided by the fact that Mitchel’s brother-in-law, John Martin, his predecessor as Meath MP, liked the young Wicklow squire and ‘took steps so that, when he died in 1875, Parnell succeeded him as member for County Meath’.1

  Another of Parnell’s intermediaries in obtaining the blessings of the committee which selected him as candidate for Meath was Patrick Egan, a figure who later acquired an extremist and even sinister reputation. Egan had been a Fenian since the 1860s and was to be linked with political violence in the 1880s. Egan, like many other Fenians, was willing to give the Home Rule movement a serious and honest try. His convictions on this point are clear. It would be difficult to overstress the umbrella nature of the movement Isaac Butt led. Furthermore, Egan performed services not only for Parnell but also for many other Home Rule figures, including Colonel King-Harman, later a Conservative Under-Secretary for Ireland, for whom he wrote election addresses.2 Not too much should therefore be made of the ‘extreme’ nature of Parnell’s early sponsorship.

  Parnell was also able to rely on the Catholic clergy of Meath. Despite the strong advocacy of his local priest, Parnell did not, in fact, have initial clerical support for the Meath seat. Both the experienced curate, Father Michael Tormey, and his parish priest, Father Peter O’Reilly, had intended to support Charles Gavan Duffy. Tormey had a strong political record going back to the Tenant League era, when Duffy had been active before his emigration to Australia in 1855. Confronted with the popular enthusiasm for Parnell, including banners in Navan proclaiming the ‘Conquering hero . . . welcome Parnell’, the priests decided to change their minds. Until his retirement in 1884 Tormey remained an outspoken supporter of Parnell. Parnell’s ability to mobilise and gather up new elements of support was thus evident from an early stage.3 In all these campaigns great emphasis was laid on the family’s patriotic record. The local newspaper noted: ‘Mr Parnell had all the Roman Catholic clergy at his back and they publicly were the chief agents in his election.’4

  However, Parnell’s references to nationalism were more decisive than in his earlier Dublin campaign. He spoke airily of England’s weakness some day becoming Ireland’s opportunity. This may well have been partly due to the fact that his two unsuccessful opponents, J. T. Hinds and J. L. Napper, subscribed to some form of national autonomy for Ireland. As the local anti-Home Rule paper, the Meath Herald, commented sadly: ‘A Conservative has no chance whatever of polling a majority in Meath, seeing that the county is every day becoming more and more intensely national. We believe the most outspoken candidate of the Mitchellite type will be elected.’5 Parnell’s relationship to the Mitchel tradition in Irish politics—convinced as it was that no good could come to Ireland from Westminster—was to be one of the most interesting features of his career.

  Parnell’s election for Meath was not perceived at the time as a significant landmark. His opponents dismissed him as either a naïve young man of basically loyalist principles or as an unprincipled opportunist. In this spirit one Conservative paper commented:

  Mr Parnell is one of those gentlemen, not few in number, who of later years have had their eyes suddenly opened to the paramount and pressing necessity for Home Rule and whose convictions in this direction by a curious coincidence have been awakened simultaneously with a vacancy in the parliamentary representation of some place.6

  Nationalist sources tended rather to emphasise the canvassing energy shown by Parnell and his agent: ‘Had the other candidates followed the same course their figures might be more, but Mr Parnell worked energetically all through.’7 But they were rather vague about the precise nature of his views. His address to the electors was conventional enough. Parnell made it clear that he supported the extension of Ulster tenant right to the rest of Ireland as a means of stabilising the position of the tenantry.8 At this point the question of Parnell’s future political development was an absolutely open one. This situation was not, however, to last very long.

  Interestingly, John Bright, then considered to be a great friend of Ireland, was sitting nearby when Parnell took the parliamentary oath and assumed his seat. Bright was so struck ‘by his look, that had so much of craft and so little of timeserving in it’ that he turned and muttered to a colleague: ‘He has the eye of a madman.’9

  Parnell’s first speech in parliament on 26 April is of considerable interest. He referred to Professor Richard Smyth, the Liberal MP for Londonderry County, who had argued that the further land reform would bind Ireland closer to England:

  The Hon. Member for Derry had told the House that the Irish tenant-farmers of the north were convinced that some remedial measures were necessary for the restoration of tranquillity in that part of their country, and had said that, if a promise of a Land Bill was held out, whereby small holders would be secured in their holdings, Ireland, instead of being a source of weakness, would be a source of strength to England. He (Mr Parnell) did not profess to speak on behalf of the Irish tenant-farmers, but he did not believe that Irish tenant-farmers, even those living in the Black North, were so locked up in self-interest as to be inclined to give up the interest of their country to serve that of their class. When the proper time came, perhaps it would be found that he was as true a friend to the tenant-farmer as even the Hon. Member for Derry, and he said this, knowing well the importance of securing the tenant in his holding, but knowing also that in the neglect of the principles of self-government lay the root of all Irish trouble.10

  There is a rather remarkable postscript to this speech. The purist republican Patrick Tynan, who believed that the early Parnell was a sincere patriot, entirely misread the meaning. Tynan understood Parnell to say of the Irish tenantry that ‘they were so locked up in their own self-interest, as to be inclined to give up the interest of their country, to serve that of their class’. Such a view existed among those many Fenians who had felt betrayed by the visible lack of farming support in 1867. In particular, Tynan was critical of the strong farmers: ‘The farmers of Ireland who come under the denomination respectable, or well to do, are the most unpatriotic portion of the Irish community.’11 In fact, of course, as Hansard make
s clear, Parnell had said the exact opposite. It was a telling moment—revealing of how radical republicans projected their own beliefs on the emergent parliamentary politician. The Parnell of 1875, like the Parnell of 1880 or 1890, did not believe that a good measure of land reform would reduce the strength of nationalism: indeed, he was rather inclined to believe it would strengthen the ‘patriotic’ cause.

  But if purist republicans misread the drift of Parnell’s first speech in parliament, they hardly did so with his next major effort. Here their pleasure was entirely legitimate and well founded. On 8 July 1875 Parnell decided to support the moderate Home Ruler Mitchell Henry’s motion on the treatment of political prisoners. It was a deliberate attempt to hit a metropolitan raw nerve. Mr Gladstone had denounced the treatment of political prisoners in Italy, but what of Britain’s own record in Ireland? Parnell spoke immediately after Henry in graphic and effective terms:

  Mr Parnell said that the Irish people objected to the treatment of the Irish political prisoners. He referred to the case of Daniel Reddin, who, at the close of the Fenian troubles, was sentenced to five years’ penal servitude. In consequence of the hardships inflicted upon the man, he was seized with paralysis, and the prison officials, acting upon the assumption that was malingering, applied strong electric batteries to him twice a day, blistered him, and thrust sharp instruments into the muscles of his legs (laughter). It was no laughing matter, as he (Mr Parnell) was only stating facts. In addition to this, they, in the winter time, put him naked into a cell; and when he was physically unable to take exercise in the prison yard, caused him to be dragged to and fro, first by convicts and afterwards by warders. Finally, he fell from a height when endeavouring to shield a fellow convict who had done for him work which he was unable to accomplish, and was then discharged from prison. He afterwards took steps to obtain redress in a Court of Law; but on the medical officers making affidavits to the effect that they had simply applied to the man the tests usual in cases where it was suspected that paralysis was assumed and not real, the Judge of the Court stopped the proceedings, and the man altogether failed to obtain the redress he sought. This was a gross case, and he hoped that if Parliament did not take up the case, English opinion would be clearly expressed concerning it.12

  In August 1875 a significant incident revealed much about the balance of forces in Irish politics. The Lord Mayor of Dublin, Peter Paul McSwiney, attempted to exploit the celebrations of the O’Connell centenary to the exclusive advantage of those who favoured a revival of the alliance of Liberals and Catholic Church in Ireland. This new venture—‘Faith and Fatherland’, as McSwiney called it—was crushed by huge crowds mobilised by the Home Rulers and Fenians. The newly elected MP for Meath had had nothing to do with all this; he did not even attend the O’Connell centenary in any capacity. However, he quickly got involved with the Lord Mayor in a row over the distribution of the centenary committee’s funds. It was rather an undignified squabble and of itself can hardly have done Parnell much good: as one irritated nationalist newspaper editor commented, ‘There is scarcely one man in Ireland . . . who is not sick of these wretched disputes.’13 But the affair did make even more clear the militant nationalist drift of his views. It also showed a certain determination to catch the public eye. Parnell denounced somewhat vaguely the government’s obsession with Ribbon conspiracies in Meath as an assault on the civil liberties of his constituents. He presented himself as a Butt loyalist who supported his leader’s agrarian policy. ‘He thought when the Liberals got into office, they would be able to get a tenant right bill for the north, and fixity of tenure at fair rents for the south.’14

  His speeches were at first noted more for passion than for coherence; his actual words often went unrecorded. A typical report of a speech at Liverpool in early 1876 runs: ‘Mr Parnell was warmly applauded during a brief but animated address.’15 A few days after this Liverpool speech Parnell attended a meeting to unveil a monument to Grattan in Dublin. Despite the Parnell family’s obvious historical connections with Grattan, the new MP was not invited to speak.16

  When Parnell first returned home to report to his constituents in Navan, he stressed his diligence: there had been thirty-four divisions in the new session and he had voted on every one of them. His voting record was to lose some of its lustre by the end of the year: he was to be absent for twenty-four divisions, as against Joe Ronayne of Cork, who was absent only for eleven, and Richard Power of Waterford, absent also only for eleven.17

  Parnell did not immediately attempt a policy of obstruction at Westminster. The Cork MP Joe Ronayne, who had become his friend, urged it on him—but, Parnell admitted, it was not until after Ronayne’s death in May 1876 that he gave the idea serious consideration.

  2

  Barry O’Brien recorded: ‘Parnell remained chiefly a calm spectator of the proceedings of the House of Commons, watching, learning, biding his time.’18 In early 1876 he did, however, again come before the public eye. In a famous interruption of the Chief Secretary, he claimed that the Fenians who had accidentally killed a policeman in Manchester in 1867 while attempting to rescue two of their comrades had committed no murder. (Three of them, the ‘Manchester Martyrs’ had been executed for murder, so Parnell was implying their executions were unjustified.) Despite the ensuing English uproar, Parnell pressed on with his chosen course of action. In particular, he made it his business to cultivate Fenian sentiment, not only in Ireland, but also, and even more assiduously, in England and Scotland. The Home Rule Confederation of Great Britain was largely composed of sotto voce republicans, and Parnell did his best to become their favourite.

  It was in association with these elements that Parnell, in the autumn of 1876, launched himself on a trip to the United States. The purpose was to convey a congratulatory address to the President on the centenary of the American Declaration of Independence. The address on behalf of the ‘Irish people’—in reality Irish republicans—was refused, but Parnell did gain useful public attention.

  On his return, he spoke once more in Liverpool. He was no more coherent than he had been at the beginning of 1876. ‘He was a bad speaker then—had a bad halting delivery. In fact, it was painful to listen.’ Nevertheless, he was now regarded with some seriousness. ‘He shook nervously until the word he wanted came . . . Parnell’s word was always the right word and expressed exactly the idea in his head.’19 More precisely, he expressed exactly the idea in the collective head of his audience.

  Increasingly Parnell was willing to challenge the more moderate leadership of his own party. On 1 May 1877, in a debate on the Irish land question, Isaac Butt told the House of Commons:

  The great bulk of the Irish tenants wished undoubtedly for fixity of tenure; but for some unexplained reason they would almost rather pay rent—a small rent—provided they were perfectly secure in their possessions, than become the absolute owners of their holdings. It might be from want of education, or perhaps it might be owing to the traditions of an older system, or to the want of independence resulting from years of oppression, but the fact remained, which admitted with regret, that the people of Ireland took no manly pride in becoming their own landlords. He regretted this the more because nothing could be of more value to the country than the existence of a large body of independent yeomanry.20

  Butt was immediately challenged by his colleagues J. G. Biggar and Parnell. Biggar said the doctrine which had been laid down that tenants in Ireland had no wish to become owners of their holdings was one to which he could not subscribe, nor could he allow it to be made without a challenge. Parnell also attacked Butt. He disagreed with Butt’s view that ‘the tenant farmers did not desire to become owners; on the contrary, he thought that if a fair opportunity of purchasing their farms was presented to them, they would embrace it with the utmost eagerness’. He concluded: ‘The question would never be settled on any other basis than that of giving to the Irish people the right and liberty of living on their own farms as owners.’21

  It was a remark
able moment. Butt was a former university professor and the author of scholarly and widely respected work on the Irish land question. He was the more experienced politician. Yet here he was being challenged by two relatively inexperienced members of his own party with no special expertise in the area. More significantly, Parnell’s analysis was to be proved to be more accurate and certainly the more politically effective.

  From this point on, we can watch Parnell steadily build up his rapport with militant Irish nationalist sentiment in England and Scotland. In Glasgow at the end of May 1877 he told his audience: ‘The appeals that had been made in parliament on behalf of Ireland had been made in a whining tone.’22 He insisted that nothing was to be gained by conciliating England:

  Why was some measure of protection given to the Irish tenant? Why was the English Church [sic] disendowed and disestablished?

  A VOICE: The Fenians did that; it was not the Home Rulers.

  MR PARNELL: No, the gentleman is right. It was not the Home Rulers. He was afraid that the Irish members could go on for a long time at their present gait before they ever do anything for Ireland. These things were obtained because there was an explosion at Clerkenwell, and an attack upon the police van at Manchester.23

  In the parliamentary session of 1877 Parnell threw himself into the project known as ‘obstruction’. In itself there was nothing particularly original about the idea of delaying parliamentary business by prolonged and irrelevant speech-making during debates. Even Isaac Butt, the moderate Home Rule leader, had condoned the practice in 1875 on the occasion of an Irish coercion bill. However, despite Butt’s reproofs, Parnell and his allies, the graceless Belfast pork merchant Joseph Gillis Biggar and the pockmarked ‘workhouse boy’ John O’Connor Power (both of whom were under sentence of expulsion from the Irish Republican Brotherhood at this time for their participation in constitutional politics), did not restrict themselves to blocking Irish legislation but widened the scope of the tactic to cover imperial concerns. This defiant activity reached its high point in July 1877 with a twenty-six hours’ sitting on the South Africa Bill.