"amid all the forms of life that surround us, not one, excepting the dog, has made an alliance with us."—maurice maeterlinck.
in 1885 i had a new room built on to my house at eltham, adjoining my sitting-room and leading into the greenhouse, and thence to the garden. parnell and i took the greatest interest in the building of this room; he superintended every detail, saw that the cement was laid to the proper depth under the flooring, and sent to avondale for sufficient sweet-chestnut wood to have the room panelled half-way up and to make beautiful, heavy double-doors, window settings and the mantelpiece and fittings. it was a very comfortable and warm room when finished, and, to celebrate its completion—it was to be parnell's own study and workroom—i photographed him in it, sitting in his own special easy chair, surrounded by his assaying paraphernalia and holding his pestle and mortar. this photograph was published years ago without permission or acknowledgment by one or other of two persons to whom i had given it, after my husband's death, as a very private and special memento of him. it hurt me much when i first knew of it—but people do these things.
early in 1885 parnell bought a new horse in ireland which he arranged to bring to england, and subsequently brought others over. the two letters which follow refer to these matters, and were written to me in case the horses {231} should be noticed arriving in eltham and the fact reported to captain o'shea.
avondale,
january 14, 1885.
my own queenie,—a word to say that your promised letter has not yet reached me, and i suppose it may turn up to-morrow. the parcel came safely to dublin, and the hamper here. mary and i unpacked it with fear and trembling, lest there should have been no tea and sugar, as i had forgotten to say anything to you about them; but they were all right.
the new horse is very quiet and a very fine one; strong and short legs, with plenty of bone, a splendid fore-quarter, and a good turn of speed. i suppose i may bring him back with me. the telegram i sent you on day of convention was found late at night posted in a letter box, and was returned to bearer, who never said anything to me about it, otherwise you would have heard result about six o'clock.—with best love to my little wife, your king.
morrison's hotel, dublin.
february 3, 1885.
my dear mrs. o'shea,—i have sent two horses to london to-day (euston) and should feel very much obliged if you would allow them to stand in your stables for a few days, until i can make other arrangements.
they will reach euston about 1 p.m. to-morrow. could you find two careful men to meet them? one saddle is gone with the horses, so another saddle would be necessary. they should be walked carefully through london, as one of them specially is very shy and unused to town.
i am going over to liverpool to-night. i enclose order for the horses.—-yours very truly, chas. s. parnell.
parnell rented some stables fairly near my house for his horses, and took much interest in their welfare. he was not a man who had very much knowledge of horses, but he was a fine horseman, and on his hunter president, a beautiful horse of sixteen hands and a weight-carrier, {232} he looked remarkably well. he took a scientific interest in the shoeing of the horses and, to the great annoyance of his grooms, would constantly try new methods of shoeing in order to deaden the "jar" of the contact of the road. this trial of new methods proved a boon to my horse dictator—given me by parnell—for the tenderness of his feet was completely cured when parnell, dead against the conservative ideas of my stableman, insisted on his having leathers inserted between dictator's foot and shoe.
this horse dictator was a great pleasure to us, though he pulled rather badly. he was very fast and extraordinarily sure-footed, keeping his feet in the worst frost, even when driven on the slippery london paving in hard night frosts. he would trot away to london in much less time than parnell could get there by any other means. parnell did not drive well, leaving the reins slack upon the horse's back, so that he had no control over it in any emergency. my nervousness in this was so great that he very good-naturedly left all the driving to me, saying: "well, that's how the jarveys drive in ireland!" in answer to my plaintive "i've never seen anyone drive like that."
president was a very solid horse, in mind as well as in body, and once when parnell had ridden him up to new cross in a frost president sat down violently and was so impressed with the safety of his position that he refused to get up again until parnell—who was of immense muscular strength—with the help of a couple of stalwart policemen, literally lifted him to his feet.
parnell then went into an adjacent saddler's shop to buy a "rubber" to give president a rub down and, finding a rather original make of pocket-book on the counter, with beautifully-sewn leather covers, became so immersed in the selection of one for me that at length an irate policeman {233} looked in to order him to remove his horse at once, as it was causing "an obstruction!" parnell, recalled to the problem of how to get president and himself to westminster bridge, where his servant was waiting to take the horse, proceeded to rub him down while considering the matter, thereby delighting the crowd of onlookers.
the policeman besought him to "get on the 'orse, sir, and ride hoff," before the whole street got "'eld hup," but parnell gently declined, as he knew that president had now no chance of keeping his feet on the ice-coated pavement. after fully considering the matter he found the chief thing was to get himself out of the crowd as quickly as possible, and, slipping a little comfort into the constable's hand, he ordered him to put the horse up at the nearest stables and drove off, ignoring all queries and protests.
he sent me a telegram from the house to assure me of his safe arrival, but forgot all about his waiting servant, who, after some hours, not daring to return home, telegraphed to me to know what he was to do, as his master had not arrived. the whole thing amused parnell intensely, but unfortunately he had given the policeman the name of prescott, and, in absence of mind, sent his groom the next day to find and bring back the horse of "mr. stewart." it was a most expensive trial of president's utility. the pocket-book i still use daily, and prize very highly; it is as perfect, though much worn, as when he bought it, some twenty-six years ago.
after my old collie elfie died, parnell offered to get me another dog, and, as i wanted an irish wolf-hound, he and i went to see one that was advertised for sale. it was a magnificent animal, but we had much doubt as to {234} its true breed, and decided that mr. parnell should not buy it.
he then suggested bringing me an irish setter the next time he went to ireland, and, as the idea pleased me, he brought a half-grown setter given him by mr. corbett, m.p., who said this dog, grouse, was the very best he had ever had. grouse became at once the constant companion and pleasure of his master and myself. he was a beautiful dog, and most faithful and affectionate. mr. parnell would tease him by pretending to be jealous when grouse lay at my feet with his head on my foot, and when the dog rose with the dignity that always characterized him, and went over to parnell, resting his head on his knee and assuring him of his absolute devotion, i would in my turn despair at having no dog to love me.
after a few moments of this game poor grouse would sit exactly between us, looking from one to the other, and whining at the impossibility of pleasing us both at once. then parnell would move to my side on the sofa so that grouse could rest his chin on our clasped hands, to his great contentment. the dog always slept in parnell's room, and, in his last illness, when the doctors wished to have grouse removed, parnell would not allow it.
mr. corbett was very sad when he heard that grouse had become a lady's pet, as the old sportsman considered it a sin to "spoil" a gun dog; but i think that if he had known the pleasure grouse gave "the chief" he would have been glad that the dog should have exchanged the wicklow mountains for the hated saxon's home. parnell took grouse over for the grouse-shooting one season and telegraphed to me that he had done very well, but he soon brought him back to me.
another dog that parnell brought home to me from {235} ireland was a mongrel irish terrier that he had found wandering in the streets of killaloe. he had been dreadfully starved and ill-used, and was quite savage when handed over to me at brighton with muzzle and chain on, but with kindness and good feeding he soon became as devoted to us as grouse was, and with him used thoroughly to enjoy following parnell when he rode over the downs for his daily exercise.
after we went to brighton parnell would give the dogs a swim in the sea every day, and grouse's strong swimming was a great delight to his master. pincher, the terrier, was the cause of much anxiety, as he used to swim right out to sea—so far that we lost sight of the little dark head—and parnell had very often to get a boat out and fetch the exhausted little beast back. this little dog lived for many years after his master's death (grouse only two years), but he would never allow another man to touch him without trying to bite him. he was fond of parnell, but always on guard with other men, though quite good-tempered with women. parnell used to say that pincher must have been so badly treated by some man that he had learned distrust of all males. many a time he came home from his rides with rueful amusement at the exaggerated value placed upon their legs by shepherds or labourers he had met on the downs who had been bitten by pincher with a careless indiscrimination that at last earned him a muzzle.
parnell also brought to eltham a very old setter, ranger. he had been a splendid dog, and now his limbs were too feeble to follow his faithful heart in his master's sport. so mr. parnell took pity on him, and asked mr. corbett to let him have the dog for a lady who would care for his old age, and ranger came to us, spending the {236} evening of his life in basking on the sunny lawn at eltham, wagging a dignified tail of appreciation and greeting to those of us he met on his stiff walks about the place or dreaming his doggie dreams of the sport of the past, happy and cared for till he died.
* * * * * *
the following letter was sent to united ireland on april 11, 1885, in regard to the proposed visit of the prince of wales to ireland:—
you ask for my views regarding the visit of the prince of wales. in reply, i desire to say that if the usages of the constitution existed in ireland as they do in england there would, to my judgment, be no inconsistency in those who believe in the limited monarchy as the best form of government taking a suitable part in the reception of the prince. but in view of the fact that the constitution has never been administered in ireland according to its spirit and precedents, that the power of the crown as wielded by earl spencer and other viceroys is despotic and unlimited to the last degree, and that in the present instance the royal personage is to be used by the two english political parties in ireland for the purpose of injuring and insulting the irish nationalist party, and of impeding, if possible, their work, i fail to see upon what ground it can be claimed from any lover of constitutional government under a limited monarchy that the prince is entitled to a reception from the independent and patriotic people of ireland, or to any recognition save from the garrison of officials and landowners and place-hunters who fatten upon the poverty and misfortunes of the country. let me suggest a parallel. would it be tolerated in england for a moment if the government, for their own party purposes, on the eve of a general election, were to use the prince of wales as an electioneering agent in any section of the country, and were to send him upon a royal progress in order to embarrass their political opponents? the breach of constitutional privilege becomes still graver when we consider that it is the march of {237} a nation which is now sought to be impeded—the fruition of a long struggle and of many sacrifices which the adventitious aid of this royal visit is enlisted to injure. i have, however, every confidence that our people, having been suitably forewarned, will not allow their hospitable nature and cordial disposition to carry them into any attitude which might be taken as one of condonation for the past or satisfaction with the present state of affairs.
charles s. parnell.
this letter was written at eltham, and there was a laughing battle between us over the writing of it. i threatened to make him hang out "union jacks" from every window of avondale if he made things unpleasant in ireland for the prince, and he, in pretended horror, wrote the above, and tossed it to me for the alterations (which i, of course, did not make) that my "english prejudices" demanded. but he seriously believed that this visit of the prince to ireland was timed by the advisers of his royal highness with singular and malicious advertence to the state of the political situation, and he commented most strongly upon the poverty of imagination and chivalry of a great country such as england who could find no better use for her prince than that of an electioneering agent.
