"If I must speake the schoole-master's language, I will confess that character comes of the infinite moode [Greek: charázo], which signifieth to ingrave or make a deep impression."—(CHARACTERS) OVERBURY.
When I first met Mr. Parnell in 1880 he was unusually tall and very thin. His features were delicate with that pallid pearly tint of skin that was always peculiarly his. The shadows under his deep sombre eyes made them appear larger than they were, and the eyes themselves were the most striking feature of his cold, handsome face. They were a deep brown, with no apparent unusualness about them except an odd compulsion and insistence in their direct gaze that, while giving the impression that he was looking through and beyond them, bent men unconsciously to his will. But when moved by strong feeling a thousand little fires seemed to burn and flicker in the sombre depths, and his cold, inscrutable expression gave way to a storm of feeling that held one spellbound by its utter unexpectedness.
His hair was very dark brown, with a bronze glint on it in sunlight, and grew very thickly on the back of the shapely head, thinning about the high forehead. His beard, moustache and eyebrows were a lighter brown. His features were very delicate, especially about the fine-cut nostrils; and the upper lip short, though the mouth was not particularly well shaped. His was a very {302} handsome, aristocratic face, very cold, proud and reserved; almost all the photographs of him render the face too heavy, and thicken the features.
He had an old-world courtliness of manner when speaking to women, a very quiet, very grave charm of consideration that appealed to them at once in its silent tribute to the delicacy of womanhood. I always thought his manner to women, whether equals or dependents, was perfect. In general society he was gracious without being familiar, courteous but reserved, interested yet aloof, and of such an unconscious dignity that no one, man or woman, ever took a liberty with him.
In the society of men his characteristic reserve and "aloofness" were much more strongly marked, and even in the true friendship he had with at least two men he could more easily have died than have lifted the veil of reserve that hid his inmost feeling. I do not now allude to his feeling for myself, but to any strong motive of his heart—his love for Ireland and of her peasantry, his admiration that was almost worship of the great forces of nature—the seas and the winds, the wonders of the planet worlds and the marvels of science.
Yet I have known him expand and be thoroughly happy, and even boyish, in the society of men he trusted. Immensely, even arrogantly proud, he was still keenly sensitive and shy, and he was never gratuitously offensive to anyone. In debate his thrusts were ever within the irony permitted to gentlemen at war, even if beyond that which could be congenial to the Speaker of the House or to a chairman of committee.
He was never petty in battle, and all the abuse, hatred and execration showered upon him in public and in private, whether by the opponents of his political life or by the {303} (self-elected) judges of his private life, caused no deviation in the policy that was his or on the path that he meant to tread. His policy was the outcome of long, silent deliberation, with every probable issue considered, every possible contingency allowed for, and then followed up with quiet, unwearying persistency and determination. When he succeeded in forcing his will upon the House it was well, but he was not elated, passing on to the next point to be gained. When he failed, he had done his best; but "the fates" willed otherwise than he, and again he passed on to the next thing without perturbation. 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."
In regard to "Nationalization," he declared that, while there must be growth, there could be no change, and when I would point out in friendly malice that his "nationalism" of one year need not necessarily be that of another, and could very easily be less comprehensive, he would answer with smiling scorn, "That only means that lack of judgment is righted by growth in understanding!"
Parnell went into nothing half-heartedly, and was never content till he had grasped every detail of his subject. For this reason he gave up the study of astronomy, which had become of engrossing interest to him, for he said that astronomy is so enormous a subject that it would have demanded his whole time and energy to satisfy him. He {304} was constitutionally lazy, and absolutely loathed beginning anything, his delicate health having, no doubt, much to do with this inertia, of which he was very well aware. He always made me promise to "worry" him into making a start on any important political work, meeting or appointment, when the proper time came, and often I found this a very sad duty, for he was so absolutely happy when working at one of his many hobbies, or sitting quietly in his chair "watching" me, and talking or keeping silent as the mood possessed him, that it was misery to me to disturb him and send him off to do something that was not interesting to him. He used to comfort me by assuring me that it was only the "beginnings" he hated, and that he was all right when he was "once started."
He was extraordinarily modest about his own intellectual ability, and decidedly underrated the wonderful powers of his mind, while he had the utmost admiration for "brain," whether of friend or foe. Frequently he would say that that "Grand Old Spider" (his private name for Mr. Gladstone) was worth fighting because he was so amazingly clever. His own followers he picked with careful consideration of their usefulness to his policy, and appreciated to the full the occasionally brilliant ability some of them showed. His mind, in politics at least, was analytical, and he would sift, and sort, and mentally docket each member of the Irish Party, in company with the more prominent of the Liberal Party, till the whole assumed to him the aspect of an immense game, in which he could watch and direct most of the more important moves. The policy of the Conservatives he considered to be too obvious to require study.
In character Parnell was curiously complex. Just, {305} tender and considerate, he was nevertheless incapable of forgiving an injury, and most certainly he never forgot one. 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; but his self-control was so perfect that never by word or deed did he betray the intense effort and real loathing he suffered when obliged to attend a funeral, or to be in any way brought into contact with death or the thought thereof. Whenever we passed, in our drive, a churchyard or cemetery he would turn his head away, or even ask me to take another road. The only exception to this very real horror of his was the little grave of our baby girl at Chislehurst, which he loved; but then he always said she did not die, "she only went to sleep."
Oppression of the weak and helpless, or any act of cruelty, filled him with the deep hatred and indignation that had first led him to make the cause of his hapless country his own, and he would spend hours in silent, concentrated thought, altogether oblivious of his surroundings, working out some point or way to lift a little of the burden of the wronged.
Parnell was very fond of animals, and was their very good friend always, taking every care himself to see that his horses and dogs were properly looked after. During one of the last meetings he attended in Ireland he jumped {306} off his car in the midst of a hostile crowd to rescue a terrier that was being kicked and run over by the mob.
His will was autocratic, and once he had made up his mind to any course he would brook no interference, nor suffer anything to stand in his way. Yet, in his home life, he would come to no decision without seeking my approval, and was absolutely unselfish and considerate. I have known him deadly white, with the still, cold passion that any deliberate thwarting of his will produced in him, sweep aside out of "the Party" and out of all further recognition in any capacity a man who had done useful work, and who, thus thrown out, might have been—and was—dangerous to Parnell's political policy in many ways. He had gone against Parnell's explicit instructions in a certain matter. I ventured to point out that this man might be dangerous as an enemy, and h............